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James Fotopoulos (Migrating Forms, Back Against the Wall, Christabel) is one of cinema's most unique voices, a filmmaker of uncompromising vision. His films explore universal themes of loneliness, death, love, and body-image, though never in a vapid or obvious manner. More interested in putting out quality work than fitting into any pre-conceived ideals of what a director should do, Fotopoulos has established himself as one of the premiere filmmakers of the contemporary underground cinema. I had a chance to chat with him via email over the past couple of weeks. TFJ: When I first saw Back Against the Wall (at the 2002 Philadelphia Festival of World Cinema), the first thing that struck me as unique was the deliberate, almost snail-paced delivery of the actors. Do you generally look for that aesthetic in the audition process, or are you more inclined to guide the performance after you've cast the film? JF: What I look for with an actor is the way they look, how they sound, how they move. Because the style you are speaking of can be imposed upon those three initial aspects of the person. I explain it all before hand, but in the rehearsals I begin to shape the acting. It varies from actor to actor on how intricate I have to get. Not all of them use that slow-method. I have no interest in trying to reach some type of consensus on what is considered "good" acting. I don't know what that means. I'm more interested in trying to come to terms with reality. Some actors will be on board and will understand this, many do not and fight you. TFJ: I think
that's important to bring up, the whole obtuse dichotomy of "good
performance" vs. "bad performance". Because, essentially,
what you have in Back Against the Wall, and in your other films,
is a decidedly different style of acting, one much more steeped
in realism than most everything else out there today. How have you come
to utilize that dynamic in your features, as opposed to the more lucid,
abstract style of performance in your early shorts, or, say, that of a
more experimental feature like Christabel? JF: In
all the films that I use actors in I try to make the acting function as
part of the "machine" of the medium. Which plays into the whole
large picture of trying to balance the mechanical elements of the medium
you are using with what the orchestration of those parts creates, or the
ability to elevate the balance machine and what is not physically there
into something greater. A balance between the technology and energy. How
I see most acting used is that it is treated as something separate from
the film. As if it is "out there" someplace and has been captured
by a camera. I see it as something totally inseparable from the camera
or anything else. And in that it has to function in the most "object"-based
way. Because I am not trying to give you a presentation of how I wish
the world to be, but trying to figure out how it actually works. I feel
that when dealing with film or video everything must be precise and archetypal
as possible - so in both the films and video the acting becomes clearing
away the excess, clearing away the vulgarity of drama and whittling it
down to the most necessary and important actions and sounds. TFJ: It seems to me that you use the same approach when constructing the sound design of your films. They don't really have prototypical "soundtracks", necessarily. Rather, they are intricately designed "soundscapes", for lack of a better word. That's something that I've noticed in everything you've done, from Insect to Families, that there appears to have been a great deal of work put into the audio tracks to create such layered, multifaceted aural experiences. How do you set about constructing the sound for your films? JF: Yes, the
soundtracks function similarly. Hopefully, like all elements of the piece
they exist as themselves and at the same time part of the whole. There
is no interest in the idea that "this film is a window to my world"
approach. Or "this is how I see the world". What I see in most
films is this same problem, that there is pursuit to reach some ideal.
Some ideal perception that we are placed in something that already exists.
Instead of that we are active participants in created existence. The use
of most sound I see leads to the former idea. To get closer to what sound
means and what it means in relation to and balance with image and movement. TFJ: This all speaks to something that is oh-so rare these days: allowing the filmed compositions do the work of telling the story. I read an interview with Brian DePalma recently in which he was lamenting the fact that so few directors convey their films with the actual audio/visual devices they employ. Most contemporary filmmakers seem content to simply allow the story to sell their films, without putting too much effort into visually framing that story, which doesn't exactly exploit the medium's full potential. Your films show an immense amount of work put into deconstructing that approach. Why is it so important to you to "talk" visually, rather than through the script alone? JF: Well,
I'm not trying to "deconstruct" any approach. TJF: After
quite a few years working with film, you've begun implementing DV technology.
As everyone knows, there's been a great deal of debate as to DV's aesthetic
merits. Many filmmakers are simply using it because it's cheaper and allows
them the freedom to shoot a ton of footage, without having to shell out
top dollar for film processing. Others seem to have employed it to actually
serve their artistic agenda (Soderbergh's Full Frontal; Kunuk's
The Fast Runner; Figgis' Time Code come to mind). As someone
who is responsible for every step of the creation process, how has working
with DV changed your creative process and how do you see yourself utilizing
the medium in the future? TFJ: Yeah, I think that part of the reason that "film"makers are so wary, or distrustful of video is that it really represents the first medium that has the potential to successfully replace film. Videomakers have embraced DV's flexibility, its ease of manipulation, its wonderful ability to adapt to almost any environment. A number of filmmakers have turned away from film in the past few years. Obviously, techies like George Lucas and Robert Rodriguez have taken to it because of its gadget factor, but some pretty reputable filmmakers, Abbas Kiarostami (Taste of Cherry, Ten) chief among them, have approached video in much the same way as you seem to: as the next logical step in visual arts.When you sit down to edit video projects are you using linear or non-linear editing tools? Do you edit on a computer? JF: Everything
so far has wound up back on a computer and on DV. Some of the videos were
shot DV and edited on a computer. Some are shot in camera with older 8mm
video equipment. Or transferred to VHS and then reshot and transferred
to DV. Some are all edited VHS to VHS, or edited in the reshooting and
then back to DV, for layering and additional texture manipulation. So
it varies. It is all trying reach that "elevated" point above
the machine. Find the balance. TFJ: I'd
like to talk a little about about influence, or at least the perceived
presence of influence. Many people who write about your work seem content
to throw out two names: David Lynch and David Cronenberg. Since, I suppose,
they are categorizing your films as "weird", they decide to
lump them in with the two most widely recognized craftsman of fringe cinema.
I've never felt a very strong link between your films and those of Lynch
or Cronenberg. Both of those filmmakers seemingly place their films within
largely fantastical environments. Twin Peaks never feels like a
real place, nor does the glamorized sadism of Blue Velvet or Mulholland
Drive seem to be a part of our literal world. Cronenberg, as well,
appears to be approaching his material from a more dreamy, lucid place.
Though your films, especially shorts like Growth and A Room,
do sometimes have the visceral appearance of a Patrick Bokanowski or Stan
Brakhage film, the features are much more firmly grounded in a "real
world" aesthetic. Watching, namely, Back Against the Wall,
Zero, and Families, I'm drawn more towards comparisons to
the humanist cinemas of a John Ford or a Paul Schrader. Do such seemingly
reductive comparisons bother you, or are you consciously influenced by
the films of others? TFJ: As someone who writes about film, I find this to be a tremendously detrimental approach to the medium: the desire to always place a new film within the context of what other films it most resembles. Perhaps it's an attempt to show off some kind of encyclopedic knowledge of film history, perhaps it's simply the only way that they know to gauge a film's success: how well it stacks up next to its closest cousin. But critics that do this (as well as those codgery types that insist that cinema died 30 years ago), and the filmmakers that fall into the trap of believing their own hype, seem to be hellbent on destroying the art form entirely. It seems to me that the more you dilute the process of "reading" films into simple the arithmatic of A+B=C, the more complicit you are in the resulting product. Do you think that's why so much contemporary mainstream cinema is so bland and repetitive? JF: Well, I
don't see the problem being isolated to just mainstream films. It is there
in experimental and foreign works and in art and music and in the way
cars are made and so on. And most criticism I read is part of that too,
to me it seems like a wrong turn and I don't even bother reading it. I'd
rather read about something else. Of course there are some things that
I agree with or like, but that always seems out-weighed by what I see
as being weak. To visit Fotopoulos' production company website, click here. James Fotopoulos' first three features, Zero, Migrating Forms and Back Against the Wall will be available on VHS/DVD on February 11, 2003. Visit Facets to order. |
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