The Young Americans

BY: ANGELA CRAVENS

Few artists capture the imagination quite like filmmakers. Perhaps it’s the immediacy of the medium, but these men and women seem to have an uncanny ability to map the spirit of the times. As we enter the new decade, it’s an odd moment for movies. On one end of the spectrum, record-breaking crowds flock to blockbusters based on marketing campaigns (thanks, Michael Bay). On the other, your friend’s cousin is cutting his first flick at home on his laptop right now, and it could very well be a massive hit. Even in a saturated market, though, there will always be personalities who rise above the fray. Revealing a dedication to the authentic, an unwavering eye, and a willingness to get a little dirty along the way, the filmmakers profiled here are all paving the road for the next new wave.


ALEX HOLDRIDGE
Alex’s In Search of a Midnight Kiss received the John Cassavetes Award honoring films budgeted at less than $500,000 at the 2009 Independent Spirit Awards


Photography: David Black

What is this moment in time like for you?
In Search of a Midnight Kiss was a dream come true. I’d made two other independent films and when they all kind of fell apart, I was in the midst of utter depression. Just literally not a dime to my name, nothing but credit card debt and going through a breakup. I was having these deep questions of, ‘Do I have the will to start over and do this again?’ Because every [film] kills you just a little bit. You feel guilty asking so much of the people [you’re working with]. On Midnight, people were very kind and generous because we’ve worked together over the past decade. I was determined to do one [more film] before I gave up on LA.

Filmmaking is such a shared medium, though it starts with your personal vision. What has your experience of that been?
Taking something that’s personal and — even though it has evolved — exposing it to the world, is strange. When I watch Midnight Kiss, even though I’ve seen it a million times, I still cry because those are real things [on the screen]. I hear the actors’ voices but I hear my lovers’ voices. Even though I know those actors so well — I feel like the characters are real people.

What does it mean to you to be independent?
Having the power to make a film outside of the studio system… Movies right now are very conservative and it’s only gotten worse over the past two years. [The industry] is ripe for an attitude change. Our generation needs a hardcore shakeup.

Our relationship with screens is changing so much in the Internet age. Has that affected your work?
I think that in the end it will be good but in the interim it’s really hard because if you’re going to make something that’s a little ambitious, it’s difficult to sell it right now. So I feel like this generation needs to step up and make some more aesthetically ambitious films. It’s not like in the early ‘90s when there was a real resurgence of these films like Slacker, Rushmore, Clerks, Do the Right Thing . . . I don’t even know how those films [would] get made now.

Tell me about the first time you screened your feature.
It was awful! . . .It took me four years to make [my first film Wrong Numbers]. I was waiting tables, so I’d shoot one night a week and edit in my room — this went on and on for years. I was really embarrassed by the whole movie because I thought, ‘People are expecting me to make Titanic.’ Finally, about a week before [the premiere] I had a big falling out with my parents. Now they’re really helpful to me but at the time they were really opposed to the whole thing. They went into my bag when they were visiting and they watched the movie. They literally didn’t laugh, at all. It was a nightmare. My dad sat me down afterwards and told me, ‘It’s time to start getting serious about your life.’ Utter devastation — he just completely dismissed all my work!
At the premiere, I walked into the small little theater and just slunk in the back thinking, ‘What an embarrassment this is going to be. Four years of Alex Holdridge’s work. Let’s all laugh at what an idiot he is.’ And it just went over like you wouldn’t believe. People busting up laughing, clapping in the middle of it. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it! It was like the dream situation. I walked home, and every studio had called.


ANNA BODEN & RYAN FLECK
Anna and Ryan’s first feature Half Nelson was nominated for an Academy Award. They are currently in post-production on their third film, It’s Kind of a Funny Story


Photography: Flora Hanitijo

What is this moment in time like for you?
AB: We’re just starting the editing process [on It’s Kind of a Funny Story] today. It’s our first studio movie so in some ways that’s a lot different . . . I don’t know exactly what it’s going to be, which is really exciting. Last night I couldn’t fall asleep because I had that first day of school feeling. RF: There’s always kind of a terror entering into post-production. Not that we don’t have confidence in [the movie], but there’s always this nervousness because you really don’t know what it’s going to be.

How does your personality or personal life feed into your work?
RF: Anna has lots of calendars and schedules and I’m much more ‘figure it out as we go,’ but I think those compliment each other because I’d be lost in the wilderness if she didn’t have the plan.

Filmmaking is such a shared medium, though it starts with your personal vision. What has your experience of that been?
AB: I don’t think we enjoyed how much people appreciated Half Nelson until we were separated enough from it and it was on video. RF: Then one day we were having lunch and it was like, ‘Hey you remember when Half Nelson got an Oscar nomination? How fucking weird was that?’ [laughing.] We didn’t even really think about it at the time because it was just this long ride.

Is it a difficult time to be an independent filmmaker?
AB: It’s a difficult time to be anything!

What is inspiring you at the moment?
AB: We just came off set and I was very inspired by our actors. I felt like I learned so much about how different minds work and how people tick. RF: To shoot something that leans more towards comedy was inspiring for us too. We had dramatic actors mixed with comedic actors and they were coming up with stuff that we never would have dreamed of writing on the page, but I was crying from laughter. AB: Literally, he ruined takes!

Tell me about the first time you screened your feature.
RF: It was at Sundance. Half Nelson is strange on a first viewing. A lot of people don’t quite know what to think — am I supposed to be happy? Am I supposed to be sad? Maybe it could be both? — so I think people sat with it for a few seconds and then there was an eruption of applause. AB: I remember that really late-night screening when Broken Social Scene [who created original music for the film] played a concert. That was one of the best nights of my life, because we’re such huge Broken Social Scene fans.


BARRY JENKINS
Barry’s Medicine for Melancholy received a Best First Feature nomination at the 2008 Independent Spirit Awards. He is currently working on his second film


Photography: McNair Evans

What is this moment in time like for you?
I get e-mails from people all the time who say ‘I saw your film and I was so inspired’ — and not just black kids who want to ride skateboards (I get a lot of that too, which is enriching in another way) — but people who are so inspired by the fact that we just went out and made the film. I hope to always be at that place where I just had to make the film and I wasn’t worried about getting an agent or a deal.

How does your personality or personal life feed into your work?
My personal life is always the secret to my work and it’s always been romantic liaisons that have driven me to work. Going forward, I’m actively doing things that aren’t literally derivative of my personal life, because I want to grow and so do the people who liked Medicine for Melancholy.

Filmmaking is such a shared medium, though it starts with your personal vision. What has your experience of that been?
With making Medicine, I didn’t realize how many people wanted to see their story told . . . The film that exists in the public consciousness right now is very different from the film I sat down to write. I think that’s how it should be — the film was one thing for me, and it’s a completely different thing for the audience.

Is it a difficult time to be an independent filmmaker?
I’m someone who made a film that premiered at a major film festival, screened at a premier international film festival, was sold to a distributor and released. And here I am talking to you, and I have no money. So yes, it’s a tough time to be an American independent filmmaker.

What is your take on American cinema at the moment?
I think American cinema is awesome right now.[Technology] has almost eliminated a premium on talent. Really, it democratized the tools that are needed to make film. So many of the barriers to [filmmakers] teaching themselves how to make films have been erased. If you have an iPod right now, you can more or less go out and make a short film. You can make the same short four weekends in a row, and learn how to make it better each weekend. So we’re bringing up a generation of filmmakers who have more skill and experience than we had when we were their age.

Tell me about the first time you screened your feature.
We opened the film at South By Southwest. Our first two screenings were sold out, but a friend who is a filmmaker said, ‘Until somebody who is from the press sees your film, no one has seen your film.’ So we went back to the hotel, and we just started calling everyone of interest from the SXSW registry. At our last screening, a programmer from the Toronto International Film Festival called us back to say she couldn’t make the screening. My producer said, ‘Well, we’ll come and pick you up.’ So this woman came and saw the screening but she didn’t make any commitment. I remember about six weeks later, I was doing an interview for the San Francisco International Film Festival, and as I’m walking into the interview I get the call that the Toronto International Film Festival was going to program Medicine. So for a guy who was working at Banana Republic when he got dumped by a girl, and then wrote a script and made it with five friends in 15 days with no money, that was just . . . ridiculous!


CARY FUKUNAGA
Cary’s first feature Sin Nombre won the Dramatic Directing Award at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival. He’s preparing his next film, a remake of Jane Eyre starring Michael Fassbender and Mia Wasikowska


Photography: Justin Hollar

What is this moment in time like for you?
I have no shortage of ideas and I live a pretty cheap lifestyle, so I don’t have to work for a while, but I’m happy when I’m in that chaos on-set. This last year, because I was doing so much promotion, I feel like I didn’t really accomplish anything. That’s a weird feeling to spend an entire year of your life just traveling, promoting something.I’ve been aware since before Sin Nombre that my most important film was going to be the one that followed it. I started writing a musical but Jane Eyre came along and the script was so strong, it made sense to do it. As I’m looking down the line at the kind of films I want to do next, it felt like this was maybe the perfect film to do right now. Hopefully ten years from now, I’ll have tried a lot of different things and I won’t be pigeonholed into doing one kind of film . . . Right after Sin Nombre came out, all I was being sent was Pablo Escobar [themed material]. Doing something so far away from my first film was a strategic choice but ironically it’s not too far away from my experience. I was a history major and period films are closer to my sensibility than gangs and gritty social drama.

How does your personality or personal life feed into your work?
I’m not an immigrant from Honduras, I’m not a gang member, but there are themes in Sin Nombre that interest me, like family, for example. Similar to [my next film] Jane Eyre, it’s all about exploring human relationships, which are still a mystery to me.

Filmmaking is such a shared medium, though it starts with your personal vision. What has your experience of that been?
One thing about going to film school is you quickly learn that people will give you advice, but basically they’re telling you how they’d do something. You want your version of the story to be the one that comes through . . . In the end the film should hopefully be you, your style.

Is it a difficult time to be an independent filmmaker?
Yeah, definitely. I don’t think that Sin Nombre would be financed now. Given the climate, I think it’s a film that would have been [considered] too risky, too expensive.

Tell me about the first time you screened your feature.
We screened it at Sundance at Eccles Theater, which seats 1,300, and we had a full house. I had to introduce the film, and I was less nervous about how people would take the film than I was about having to talk in front of 1,300 people.


DEREK CIANFRANCE
Derek’s Blue Valentine, starring Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, debuted at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival


Photography: Graeme Mitchell

What is this moment in time like for you?
It took me 12 years to make the film, but we made it without any compromises. The work is extremely personal, and when you open something like that up to other people’s opinions, it’s a vulnerable place to put yourself in, but you believe in it despite what anyone else might think.
So many people — from film lovers to just regular everyday people — have told me how much the film meant to them, and I’m just happy. You never know what people are going to respond to. All you can do is make something that’s honest to you and from your heart.

Filmmaking is such a shared medium, though it starts with your personal vision. What has your experience of that been?
Making movies is my social life. I have kids and I don’t really talk to people unless I’m working. That’s what I love about making movies — it’s through that community, and those conversations where we get to the truth.

Is it a difficult time to be an independent filmmaker?
No. For some reason I couldn’t get my movie made for 12 years and then the financial system collapsed and all of a sudden I got my money. I’m not quite sure why that happened. Maybe it’s something with the Zeitgeist, because finally my story made sense to people.

What does it mean to you to be independent?
I’m a dependent filmmaker. As a collaborator, I have to depend on other people and I have to trust other people all the time.

What is your take on American cinema at the moment?
There’s something happening with cameras getting smaller and people being able to shoot whole movies on SLR cameras. There’s a great intimacy coming from that. Our generation of filmmakers can topple this machine of filmmaking. There’s so much waste and expense to this kind of pomp and circumstance of the traditional Hollywood way to make a film and the new generation doesn’t need any of that. There is an immediacy, and an urgency to what’s being made that allows people to just go out there and work.

Tell me about the first time you screened your feature.
The first time I screened was in Edinburgh, Scotland in 1997. I was so overwhelmed by the power of the audience — because making that film [Brother Tied] was so private to me for so long — that I just escaped to the projection booth. I couldn’t hear the sound, all I could hear was the projector, and I stayed up in that projection booth the whole time and let the projector kind of lull me into a calm and peaceful place. Then I went downstairs to face the audience and they were cool with the film, so the next time I saw the film I sat in the front row.
It’s a great feeling to put your film out there and to walk away from it. You have to trust it, like a child. When I was out at Sundance we set my son up with skiing lessons. It’s a very hard thing as a parent to watch your child airlift by himself, but you also have to trust your kid. And he did great, he loved it. Same thing with the film, you put all your work into it and you have to let it have its own life. It represents itself now.


RAMIN BAHRANI
Ramin’s previous features include Man Push Cart, Chop Shop, and Goodbye Solo. He recently premiered his new short film Plastic Bag, and is currently working on his fourth feature film, a period western


Photography: Ryan Pfluger

What is this moment in time like for you?
Each film is brand-new. Every time you sit down it’s as if you don’t know anything. On the other hand, I’ve done three films now so it’s easier to find partners for my projects. What I like about the western is it has a real chance at failure and that excites me. It’s dealing with [subject matter] I haven’t done, and that’s important.

Filmmaking is such a shared medium, though it starts with your personal vision. What has your experience of that been?
When you’re lucky, you find people who can help you make your film better. My cinematographer Michael Simmonds shot all three of my films. He’s a close collaborator who understands what I want, who challenges when he disagrees but he also understands he has to make the film that’s in my mind. My best collaborators help make my films better, which is a blessing.

Our relationship with screens is changing so much in the Internet age. Has that affected your work?
Anyone can make a film. We can make it right now with this phone… If we go to the mom and pop coffee store, there’s going to be someone from the neighborhood’s paintings hanging on the wall for sale. Moviemaking is not that dissimilar anymore. Does that mean it’s good or bad? I don’t think it’s either, that’s just the way it is now. If you can make a film for $200 that really impacts people, great. I don’t think it’s that easy.
Whenever I encounter young people — I’m very young myself — but whenever I do a talk or seminar, there’s someone young in the audience who asks ‘How do I make my first film?’ There’s no mystery behind it; making a film is really easy. But making a good one is really hard. I don’t know how to make a good film yet — that’s why I want to make another one.

What does it mean to you to be independent?
Independent of vision. Not to be censored by an economy or fear.

What is inspiring you at the moment?
Inspiration is not a word I’m really keen on. Picasso said ‘I don’t know if inspiration exists but it always finds me working.’ So, I don’t know. I just sit down and do work.

Tell me about the first time you screened your feature.
We premiered Man Push Cart in Venice. Obviously no smoking is allowed in the cinema, but the lead actor [Ahmad Razvi] was in the back of the cinema, chain-smoking. By the time the film ended there were about fifteen empty seats in the corner because they fled the smoke. I was sitting in the back row, horrified!
My films have all premiered in either Venice or Cannes, so I watch them once in Europe and once in America. Oftentimes the reactions are different. Goodbye Solo [received an] incredible reaction in Venice. They gave us the FIPRESCI critic’s prize for best film, but there wasn’t a lot of laughter. In America, there was a lot of laughter.