Filmmaking isn't a set of skills or equipment or even an organization like a film co-op. It's a process that grows out of a wonderful combination of people, ideas, technology, and chemistry. It is a communal activity that draws people in and makes them closer to one another. It enables ideas and stories to spread around the world and it lets you meet the most amazing people.
For me I think that it really started with Kevin Holden. I'd met him through a science fiction fan club that I was involved with. He told me about the NB Filmmakers' Co-op and what he was doing there. It seemed interesting, so I went down to 51 York Street and saw what was happening.
Kevin was working on a provincial bicentennial vignette (New Brunswick was 200 years old in 1984). He showed me some footage from the segment that he was working on. It was called "Just Say Hello." I watched Kevin as he threaded up the Steenbeck flatbed editor to show the footage. There was the distinctive click and loud pop from the speaker as he turned the sound on. Then he started it playing and the flickering images appeared on the screen. That was the first time I saw something like that.
Filmmaking could possibly be classified as a personality disorder. It seems to attract people who are obsessive and feel a deep need to tell stories visually. While these traits could tend to isolate people, in filmmaking the process is very collaborative. This results in the creation of very strong personal bonds and friendships and stories. Lots of stories. Not ones that appear on the screen, but ones that are told at gatherings where spirituous liquors are present.
It was actually at my first Film Co-op Christmas party that I had my first (but not last) exposure to the demon rum. It was my 18th birthday and since it was legal and encouraged at such events, I took that first drink. What stands out from that party is not a tale of moral decline filled with sordid details (but please, keep reading) but the sense of community and comraderie that I felt. People had stories of shoots that they had been on. Things they had seen and done. It seemed like so much fun to an innocent 18 year-old.
So I began hanging around the Co-op, talking with Dave Clarke, who was the coordinator then and I started watching some films made by coop members. It was great. Things were much different then. We'd bring films in from other co-ops to show. You could get grants from the Canada Council for workshops, visiting artists and productions. The NFB could help with their great people, their lab and with equipment and grants. One of the films that I saw back then was Mike Jones' "Sisters of the Silver Scalpel." A great and difficult to describe short from the Newfoundland Independent Filmmakers' Co-operative. I also saw John Doyle's short "Extraordinary Visitor" and those two films made me realize that it was possible to have a very different vision and voice for filmmakers' in Atlantic Canada. I felt a strange connection with those films as they were made through the co-op system in the region where I lived.
In 1986 I went to my first film festival. Kevin and I went up to Montreal to hang out and see some films at the Festival du Film du Monde. It was the first time I'd been to a big city, and I saw Pierre Trudeau at the world premiere of David Lynch's "Blue Velvet." But the thing that really stood out for me was being able to see the Newfoundland epic "The Adventure of Faustus Bidgood." It's an amazing film. It's also a film that has many stories and children and relationships surrounding it. As people filed out of the theatre after the screening, Kevin and I spotted someone wearing a t-shirt with Faustus on it. I was shy but Kevin has never been, so he asked the guy where he got the t-shirt. The man replied by saying that he was Mike Jones, the director.
We started talking and introduced ourselves and Mike figured that we were involved with the Film Co-op in Fredericton. We quickly found out that he knew a bunch of the people there. That's when I realized that the whole film co-op community across the country was pretty small. Later I would run in to Mike from time to time (usually at screenings of "Faustus" and then "Secret Nation") and one night he even saved my marriage (but that's another story). As I went to more events and screenings the web of connections between filmmakers would increase. It felt good to be part of that community.
The first set that I was on was with Kevin's longest (and possibly final) film, "The Spectre of Rexton." I wasn't part of much of the shooting at all but I heard lots and lots of stories. The main thing that I remember is that it was hot -- very hot and I had to stay quiet. It was amazing to watch. Everyone worked together smoothly. It was a great team. After the principle photography was completed, the lengthy post-production process started. It was around that time that I got to know Tony Merzetti, whose role with the co-op started to grow to where now he's the coordinator, financial whiz and cinematographer extraordinaire.
Things were strange and trying during the post-production phase of "Spectre." It dragged on and on. But there were also some fun times. Where else could someone put a baggie of gasoline and a firecracker into a model car and film it? Where else could you learn that the resulting explosion and fireball from a baggie of gasoline and a firecracker in a model car would be far too large to be usable? Where else would I be able to wear a dress and pretend to fly through the streets of Fredericton all while being filmed?
It's during those early years that I fell in love with the co-op and the ideals. To help out in whatever way you can. To learn by doing. To share your experiences. To tell your stories, both on and off the screen. Getting involved with the New Brunswick Filmmakers' Co-operative was the best career choice that I made and pretty much everything I've done to make a living since then can be traced back to those days when I walked through the door at 51 York Street and watched the flickering images on a screen. But the most important and lasting thing has been to meet and work with people like Kevin and Tony who become lifelong friends.