Managing Editor at 4:3

Formerly at SBS and Sydney Film Festival.

Student at USyd (Arts/Law V) Sydney, Australia.

 

This morning we were able to interview Joe Swanberg about Happy Christmas over at 4:3 and it’s a great read.

"It’s been interesting to have the sort of career I’ve had and to come from this perspective where I feel a movie like Drinking Buddies is really playing by the rules. Coming to understand that it’s still considered an art film and something that’s really tough for a lot of people to swallow is fascinating. I don’t know man, I feel like I don’t have a very good perspective on it, but my main desire is to communicate with people via the movies – however that happens, I’m excited to try that.”

You can find that interview in full here.

I thought it might be good to showcase a small collection of some of the best interviews on our site so far - we’ve had some really great and generous filmmakers hang out with us over the last few months.

Played 357 times

sylvysparrow:

gooseparty:

peak of the empire

top of the rock

your girls got a city to run.

You Have to See… My Winnipeg (dir. Guy Maddin, 2007)


It was 2008. The 55th Sydney Film Festival was fast approaching and I, only fifteen, sat poring over the pages of the festival guide. The 18+ exclusion hit hard but that didn’t stop me from marking up a wishlist of films to see. What had gotten my attention first was the still image chosen for the guide – a man and a woman standing behind a horse’s head, in what looked like a field of horses’ heads sticking up from the snow. That led to me watching the trailer of the film, a wonderfully obtuse introduction which cleverly positions one narrative hook – the notion of re-enacting your childhood on film – front and center. I last saw the film in 2009, purchased on DVD for an exorbitant amount of money (probably $28), whereafter it managed to worm its way into my mind and memory. Revisiting it takes away that initial splendor but also forces me to look at the film through a new prism – in the last five years I have seen many more Maddin films and comparisons to Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell, a more recent (and also Canadian!) hybrid-documentary feature about family and re-enactment, are now present and clear.
“This time I’ve leaving for good. Again.”
The film is concerned with more than just re-enactment and family, though, the way in which the narrative sprawls beyond those concepts is of primary interest. Maddin never really ties down any narrative aim other than the need to “film my way out” of his city and his memory; he meanders through family and city history, inventing and elaborating on fact and infusing absurdity into each vignette, and the film moves, albeit loosely, on metaphorical (and intermittently real) railway lines through space and time. We hear of a town plagued by sleepwalkers, a theme park overrun by buffalo, a war between taxi-cab companies, a television show about a man on a ledge that ran for 50 years, and a mock Nazi invasion – and some of those are founded in truth! Maddin plays on the ‘stranger than fiction’ documentary premises of Errol Morris and takes it down a path more akin to Welcome to Night Vale than critical and clinical analysis. The short stories, then, are almost alien in their execution, finding more in common with conceptual novels than cinematic discourse.

I wrote about Guy Maddin’s absurd and poignant MY WINNIPEG over at 4:3. You can read the whole piece here.

You Have to See… My Winnipeg (dir. Guy Maddin, 2007)

It was 2008. The 55th Sydney Film Festival was fast approaching and I, only fifteen, sat poring over the pages of the festival guide. The 18+ exclusion hit hard but that didn’t stop me from marking up a wishlist of films to see. What had gotten my attention first was the still image chosen for the guide – a man and a woman standing behind a horse’s head, in what looked like a field of horses’ heads sticking up from the snow. That led to me watching the trailer of the film, a wonderfully obtuse introduction which cleverly positions one narrative hook – the notion of re-enacting your childhood on film – front and center. I last saw the film in 2009, purchased on DVD for an exorbitant amount of money (probably $28), whereafter it managed to worm its way into my mind and memory. Revisiting it takes away that initial splendor but also forces me to look at the film through a new prism – in the last five years I have seen many more Maddin films and comparisons to Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell, a more recent (and also Canadian!) hybrid-documentary feature about family and re-enactment, are now present and clear.

“This time I’ve leaving for good. Again.”

The film is concerned with more than just re-enactment and family, though, the way in which the narrative sprawls beyond those concepts is of primary interest. Maddin never really ties down any narrative aim other than the need to “film my way out” of his city and his memory; he meanders through family and city history, inventing and elaborating on fact and infusing absurdity into each vignette, and the film moves, albeit loosely, on metaphorical (and intermittently real) railway lines through space and time. We hear of a town plagued by sleepwalkers, a theme park overrun by buffalo, a war between taxi-cab companies, a television show about a man on a ledge that ran for 50 years, and a mock Nazi invasion – and some of those are founded in truth! Maddin plays on the ‘stranger than fiction’ documentary premises of Errol Morris and takes it down a path more akin to Welcome to Night Vale than critical and clinical analysis. The short stories, then, are almost alien in their execution, finding more in common with conceptual novels than cinematic discourse.

I wrote about Guy Maddin’s absurd and poignant MY WINNIPEG over at 4:3. You can read the whole piece here.

keyframedaily:

"You find yourself making special rules for stuff to keep. Sentimental reasons. Things that remind you why you try to be creative. Things that make you laugh. Or things that you are certain you have the very last copy in the universe of, and you are the greatest self-taught librarian ever.”

twostriptechnicolor:

Inspired by a conversation with Blondell-gazette, I did this thing.

What can I say, I’m a color geek.

cinematographiliac:

Endless list of beautiful cinematography

Days of Heaven (1978)

Director of Photography: Nestor Almendros

10 things I didn't know about Richard Linklater

austinkleon:

There’s a really terrific profile of filmmaker Richard Linklater in this week’s New Yorker. (Here’s a podcast of the writer, Nathan Heller (@nathanheller), talking about Linklater’s work—the drawing above is something I doodled at SXSW in 2009.)

10 interesting things I discovered…

Machine Heart of Darkness: Spree-Watching the Transformers Series

jrhennessy:

image

There are two jokes about dogs fucking in the first fifteen minutes of Revenge of the Fallen. They are the same dogs. Two dogs are shown having sex, and that is the joke. It is the buildup, the tension and the punchline. The same joke is repeated, one minute later. We are, presumably, expected to laugh both times. Brevity is the soul of wit, said Shakespeare, and he was wrong. Spectacularly wrong in an ugly kind of way which can only be understood in retrospect. The altitude of the film never quite recovers from the dogs fucking. I give this film two fucking dogs out of two.

I spree-watched the Transformers trilogy and wrote an article about it for you savages.

This is great.