Over the last year I’ve moved to make my production company, Green Dragon Productions, an actual legal entity rather than just a name I slap on my films. It’s now registered (as of early 2024) and I’m working with some fine folks to try to get a feature film going. Wish us luck, and visit our website here: http://greendragonproductions.ca

I recently attended the Caribbean Tales 2011 Film Festival / Symposium in Barbados and took part in their Content Incubator, developing a television series called “Welcome to Trinidad”. It was a fantastic opportunity and experience.

The trip didn’t start well though. The plane Tamara and I was on from Montreal to Barbados was halfway through the flight when we noticed it turning and descending. Moments later, the captain got on the p.a. and told us that because of a “small crack” in the windshield we were being forced to land early for safety. Not to worry though, it’s just a small crack, everything is fine, we’re all fine, don’t panic. We didn’t, and within half an hour or so, we had landed in Bermuda (of course famous for mysterious vortex-triangle).

t-shirt in Bermuda

When we walked out of the plane I got a glimpse of the crack on the windshield and it seemed as though the small crack had become a giant spider web covering the entire pane of glass to the front of our airplane. I was immediately not perturbed at Air Canada for the early landing that had ruined my schedule.

We waited for about ten hours before we were able to get onto another plane and finally fly to Barbados, and sadly weren’t even allowed to go through customs and enjoy Bermuda; the very sight of the beaches and sun beyond walls of the airport mocked us. But we did get to our destination, and once there had a beautiful time, working hard, but also getting invigorated by the positive and enthusiastic energy that seemed to permeate through all the participants of the Incubator and festival.

Television and Film Production as an industry is somewhat new to the Caribbean, so there isn’t a lot of support in the form of tax credits or production funds there. Given the amount of talent, some raw and some very polished I saw at the festival though, they should be aggressively pursuing this as a valuable sector in their growing economies. I fall somewhere in between the raw and polished filmmaker categories, and I was able to get here thanks to organizations like SODEC, the Quebec Arts Council, and the Canada Council for the Arts who have supported my development and films. It’s been a long road, but now my work plays in festivals internationally, and I am moving toward making fiction features and television (knocking on wood). Governments in the Caribbean should take note: artists aren’t grown overnight, they take a long time and investment to nurture. But the rewards reaped culturally and economically are well worth it.

With help from the mentors at the Incubator my television series is getting to a place where I feel comfortable pitching it (and myself) to anyone who wants to lend an ear. The idea itself was fairly new when I got there but since then I have already written a new draft to the pilot, focused more clearly on the conflict, and developed my characters’ personalities. Moreso, some keen insights from Michelle Materre and other mentors about marketing have made me rethink how I am going to be presenting my newly completed short film Mr. Crab to the world.

Other highlights: A masterclass by Neema Barnette that focused my ideas about long form filmmaking, and how I want to approach both the series, and my feature, Path of Light. Screenings for great local Caribbean films A Hand Full of Dirt, and The Skin. An impromptu birthday party for Tamara with all our new friends, drinks in the hotel courtyard discussing the business of art, basking in the warm sunshine, and morning swims in the sea with bathing racehorses.

This voyage to the Caribbean was magical for me and I am sure will help my career move forward. I’ve already been invited to attend a festival in Trinidad & Tobago, and a couple of producers have asked me to come and DP their work later this year. I definitely have a feeling I will be spending a lot more time in warm waters soon. Which again all goes to show that even though it may be a long and hard trip getting there, the destination is well worth the trouble.

Animation by Eva Cvijanovic for "Little Girl"

Generally the films I make or am a part of take a long time, a great deal of pre-production, and a lot of loving and caring in post. Things don’t always work out that way, case in point, the music video I produced for UrbanHanded Works last month. James Hoffman directed yet another video clip for the United Steel Workers of Montreal, this one funded by FACTOR, and not from the band’s pockets which was nice for a change. The song’s name is “Little Girl” off the album Three on the Tree. Our budget was still quite tight, and we had to call in a few favours, but I have hope that this signals a new stage for the band so next time we can pay our great volunteer crew.

We went from greenlight to production in about three weeks, and James edited the piece in less than 3 days. Our reasons for being rushed were complicated, but basically we had a deadline to send back to FACTOR we didn’t want to try to extend further. It all worked out, and we got the project in on time, which I am very happy about. Deadlines are great because they push us to finally call something “finished” even if we could probably work on it for another few weeks, if not months.

My own short film, Mr. Crab, has taken a long time to produce because I waited for crew to become available and the summer to arrive to shoot. Then in post because I took my time with the picture edit, and gave my musical composer Jawad Chabaan and sound editor Emory Murchison a great deal of breathing room so they could fit in a few other projects. That and festival application season wasn’t upon us. And then… it was.

The result? Rushing at the end. I haven’t worked on a film where we weren’t rushing at the end yet, and I don’t think I ever will. Perhaps it is human nature. We need deadlines to give us a reason to move onto the next project. When you’re an independent artist it can be too easy to work on that project you’ve been nurturing forever, for – well, forever. But there is a bell curve to the benefit that extra time will positively affect the project. Some would argue too much tweaking can hurt a film, and I tend to agree. But where is the healthy balance? I say, make a realistic deadline, and stick to it.

Unless you have to break it, so you can slightly change that shot that has been bothering you for a while. Trust me, I’ve been there.

I’ve spent a lot of the last month working – not on my film editing, but on the job that pays the bills.  It’s a necessary evil most of us independent filmmakers have to deal with, and I try to keep my consumption level low so my expenses are not too bad from month to month.  That way I can live on a part time income, and spend more hours working on what’s important.

The argument can be made the other way of course.  I could spend a lot more time working a really good job, and save to make my films.  Instead of spending time writing proposals and looking for (mostly) government funding for my work, I could use that time pursuing an alternate career.  The fact of the matter is often I would be getting the same kind of funding either way.  But time to me is more valuable, even leisure time.

I’ve been very fortunate in Quebec for funding.  My Cultural Divide got money for both pre production and post from CALQ, and my first professional short fiction Useless Things was funded by SODEC primarily, and then also the NFB and the CBC (who purchased a broadcast license).  It also got the English award from the Writers Guild of Canada during the Cours écrire ton court! competition.   I consider myself very lucky, and even more so for getting another grant from CALQ for Mr. Crab.  Still, these grants pay for the films, and like any other kind of freelance work, if you don’t have a backup plan you might be setting yourself up for financial disaster.

Often, the backup plan is the credit card.  Certainly the worst idea possible, but I don’t fault people too much because I have been there.  I don’t believe in funding a film with a credit card, but I definitely think they can come in useful in emergencies when no work can be found.   Again, yes, I’ve done it, and when I say it’s a bad thing that can take you down a dark financial path, I speak from experience.  It’s something I vow never to do again.

Well, until the next time I absolutely have to make a movie I don’t have money to make, I guess.

There are filmmakers out there who are able to make really amazing works, and sometimes really popular works, on a shoestring budget.  Feature films for under $100,000.00.  Under $50,000.00.  Under 10,000.00… and some for basically no money invested at all.  Usually a lot of favours and indirect investment (they already have the equipment) are involved, like I mentioned in my last entry.  Its great that we are moving closer and closer to having inexpensive video technologies, a time where you can make film art for very little investment.   Jean Cocteau said,  “Film will only became an art when its materials are as inexpensive as pencil and paper.” But we aren’t quite there yet, and besides that, I think that it really depends on the kind of art you want to produce.

Lighting sets the mood for both the actors and the audience. Still from Useless Things (DP Osheen Harruthoonyan).

It’s true, we could go Dogme 95 and get rid of many of the complications of filmmaking but I don’t think those are the kind of movies I wish to produce.  I like them certainly, but I am definitely moving toward my films becoming more complex with lighting and sound, not less so.  One could look at some of my earlier movies and say I was adhering to the rules of Dogme, when in fact I simply had no idea what I was doing.  I’d probably rather no one actually looked at my earlier movies at all, its far too embarrassing.  I think of myself as a late bloomer, which is code for: my first films are terrible.

What I am getting at is that until I happen to own an amazing assortment of lights, sound,  and camera gear, or know people who do (who are also generous), I will have trouble making what I want to make without a little bit of money.  Osheen Harruthoonyan my DP and our production managers Katarina Soukup and David Eng have been tirelessly trying to get us affordable quotes for our lighting package, and it’s been hard to balance the need to ensure we have the equipment to make it look great, and the need to save so I don’t end up putting the post production on my credit card.  It’s a sensitive balance, and one that every filmmaker is presented with.  “How much of the money that you are spending is ending up on screen?” is a question people regularly ask. The answer had better be, “quite a bit.”

I don’t like to judge other filmmakers too harshly because I know how insanely hard it is so make a movie.  It’s unbelievably difficult, it involves an immense amount of work, and you never really know how it is going to turn out in the end.  Good producers know how to hedge their bets when making films, they know where to put the cash where it is best needed, where it will most likely will be seen.  This in itself doesn’t guarantee the success of a project, but it at the very least ensures one aspect of the movie will be sellable.  It’s an important talent directors need to learn as well, knowing what part of your film will be the most memorable, the part that the viewer takes home with them and thinks about.  I think that knowing that, and putting your money and effort there, is a key element to making a movie work.  Hopefully, with Mr. Crab, I have figured that out.