Blogs Crosscuts

Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Films Coming Back to Minnesota

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Seven years ago, while the Walker was under construction, a young Thai filmmaker named Apichatpong “Joe” Weerasethakul was brought to the Minneapolis College of Art and Design (MCAD) for a surrogate Regis Dialogue and Retrospective called “New Language from Thailand.” Of Weerasethakul’s first feature film, Mysterious Object at Noon, critic Jonathan Rosenbaum writes: The film [...]

Seven years ago, while the Walker was under construction, a young Thai filmmaker named Apichatpong “Joe” Weerasethakul was brought to the Minneapolis College of Art and Design (MCAD) for a surrogate Regis Dialogue and Retrospective called “New Language from Thailand.” Of Weerasethakul’s first feature film, Mysterious Object at Noon, critic Jonathan Rosenbaum writes:

The film made a strong impression on me, but I forgot many details, simply because I didn’t have an analytical context in which to place it. Perhaps if the film had been less original or striking, I and other publicists, journalists, and teachers could have started packaging it immediately. (read the full article on his blog)

In a blockbuster-injected film-going experience, it’s hard to imagine what non-conventional style might feel like, but Weeresethakul’s films seem, not only to buck conventions, but to disregard them entirely. His style feels, organic, poetic, and disparate from the status quo. And, like Jonathan Rosenbaum says, they are very hard to comprehend.  They speak a new and beautiful filmic language, so that watching them we might imagine what it was like to see Godard’s Breathless in 1960 or even one of the Lumière brothers’ first screenings in 1895. Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s film language proposes a new frontier for the medium, and it’s one that relies on style, not technology–remarkably, Weerasethakul is changing the film landscape without using twitter.

Although when he appeared in 2004, Weeresethakul was a relative unknown, he’s been getting more recognition since.  Not that the Walker is setting trends, but he was here first. This year Weeresethakul’s Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives has been nominated for an Independent Spirit Award for best Foreign Film. And, Uncle Boonmee will have its US theatrical premiere this Friday and Saturday at 7:30. Then, the following Thursday, Weeresthakul’s notoriously censored film Syndromes and a Century will show for free. All at the Walker Cinema.

8-Ball: Brent Green

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In anticipation of his visit to the Walker February 26, filmmaker Brent Green was kind enough to answer some questions. 1) What first interested you about movies? Did you have an artistic bent as a child? Oh, I was a sports kid. I liked Ty Cobb. When I found out movies could be eloquent, mean, [...]

Brent Green

In anticipation of his visit to the Walker February 26, filmmaker Brent Green was kind enough to answer some questions.

1) What first interested you about movies? Did you have an artistic bent as a child?

Oh, I was a sports kid. I liked Ty Cobb. When I found out movies could be eloquent, mean, and moving like Ty Cobb I joined in. As I get older, I like Yogi Berra type movies more and more.

2) What films impressed you as a child?

It’s A Wonderful Life is still my favorite film.

3) Your film, Gravity Was Everywhere Back Then, is a fascinating instance of art imitating life to some extent. How did you happen upon this enchanting tale?

Brendan Canty (who’s playing drums at the Walker performance, and is also the drummer for Fugazi) has a film series called Burn to Shine, where a bunch of bands from one town play one song each over the course of a day in a condemned house in that town. Someone called Brendan and said “we have a house for you in Louisville.” I went down there with the Burn to Shine crew and just stumbled into Leonard’s house—into this story.

4) When you first started making films, was there a certain director or artist whose work had a particular influence on you?

Kurt Vonnegut. He was perfect.

5) Considering this is your first feature-length film, did your approach or style change much as a result?

I had to think a little differently, I guess. My other films rant, which I like. I like to rant. I think in rants. There’s no way an audience would sit through a 75 minute assault of non-stop narration. Aside from trying to contain some kind of epiphanies and truths, I do want my films to entertain. Come to the Walker on February 26th. Let us entertain you.

6) Your studio is in rural Pennsylvania, far from the traditional film centers. What is it about this area that inspires you?

It’s beautiful and quiet. My closest neighbor owns over 200 guns. He keeps them in a shed with giant metal letters on the door—”NRA.” I have to make films that work for him, that work for Al. I have to keep him liking me. Feuds. Avoiding feuds is inspiring.

7) You once said that “the only stories that any of us relate to are the ones we see ourselves in.” Would you say, then, that the ultimate aim of an artist is to get inside your skin and reflect yourself back to you?

It’s tough to imagine a more complicated way of saying “be honest.” But, if you’re kind of clever and thoughtful enough, you can probably see yourself nearly anywhere. Empathy’s important in art and life.

8) Your film Paulina Hollers played at the Walker’s first Expanding the Frame series. What are you most looking forward to about your return to the Walker?

The weather. The weather and the traffic. Our van has heat—we’re gonna sit in the van, watch the weather, AND the traffic. I can’t wait.

Sam Green’s Utopian Crooner

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“This is a guy from Cuba named Julian Hernandez singing a song in Esperanto, “Tiel la Mondo Iras,” which means, ‘that’s the way the world goes.’ I guarantee that if you listen to the whole song, it will become irrevocably, perhaps even maddeningly, stuck in your head. It is profoundly catchy…I have a fantasy of [...]

“This is a guy from Cuba named Julian Hernandez singing a song in Esperanto, “Tiel la Mondo Iras,” which means, ‘that’s the way the world goes.’ I guarantee that if you listen to the whole song, it will become irrevocably, perhaps even maddeningly, stuck in your head. It is profoundly catchy…I have a fantasy of this song/video becoming a huge viral smash hit.”

8-Ball with Sam Green

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In anticipation of his visit to the Walker next week, documentarian Sam Green was kind enough to answer some  questions. 1) Your short films Pie Fight ’69 and The Rainbow Man played at the Walker in the past, and this is your first appearance. What are you most looking forward to about your visit? Yes, [...]

Sam Green at work.

In anticipation of his visit to the Walker next week, documentarian Sam Green was kind enough to answer some  questions.

1) Your short films Pie Fight ’69 and The Rainbow Man played at the Walker in the past, and this is your first appearance. What are you most looking forward to about your visit?

Yes, this is the first time I’ll be at the Walker. I’m looking forward to doing our screening there, of course, but I’m also excited to be in Minneapolis – I’ve never been. I’m hoping to maybe run into Prince at some point during our visit. (I wonder if he’ll read this. Prince??? You there?)

2) Do you consider Utopia in Four Movements cinema? How exactly do you define cinema?

Yes. I definitely do. It’s funny, the piece could be considered many different things: a performance or a ‘live documentary’ or even a fancy lecture. In some ways, I think it shows that many of these distinctions are partially semantic more than substantive. Because I am a filmmaker – I’ve made films before and am screening this in a film context, it is for the most part considered a film. With all that said, there certainly are antecedents in film history for this kind of thing: Lowell Thomas was phenomenally successful in the 1920s showing films and narrating them in person, there’s the Benshi tradition of live narration in Japan, or even the travelogues from the 1960s and 70s here. UTOPIA certainly is at the edge of what we might consider film today, but I do see it as being on this side of that edge. It is cinema.

3) Do you see your participation in Utopia as a form of acting or teaching?

Neither actually. What I’m doing with this project is definitely not acting. And I try to avoid anything that’s to pedantic or pedagogical in my work. It’s hard to find the right word for it… maybe “communicating” is right. Yeah, that’s probably good.

4)  What courses do you teach at SFAI and USF?

I’m actually taking a year off from teaching. But when I do teach, I teach courses on the history of documentary and documentary production.

5) How much does improvisation play a role in Utopia, in terms of both the music and your narration? Or do you favor a more disciplined, scripted approach?

There’s not very much improv in this piece. It’s pretty tightly choreographed – the music, the images and the words. With that said, the more we screen the piece, the looser we get with it and the more we are able to play around. At every show, unexpected things happen, and the piece is never quite the same twice. At Sundance last year, someone asked a question in the middle of it! And we are always re-writing sections – tweaking things. So it definitely changes each show.

6) What’s your favorite documentary?

I get this question from time to time, and always feel like I am slightly disappointing the person who is asking when I say that I actually don’t have a single favorite documentary film. There are lots of filmmakers that I am very fond of and lots of films that I love and have been influential. I’m a big fan of Alan Berliner, Heddy Honigman, Adam Curtis, of course Herzog. Specific films that were reference points for me in making UTOPIA IN FOUR MOVEMENTS: The Power of Nightmares by Adam Curtis, Fast, Cheap and Out of Control by Errol Morris, and the live version of Brand Upon the Brain by Guy Maddin.

7) Do you have a Netflix account, and if so, what titles are at the top of your queue?

That’s a good question. I actually had Netflix a while back but canceled my account after a month or two. I have a huge stack of DVDs on my desk that I need to watch. It’s actually hard for me to watch films in a recreational manner. So at the top of my own “DVD pile” queue is: Wide Awake by Alan Berliner, Shutka Book of Records by Sasha Manic, and some short animations in Esperanto by a young filmmaker named Simmon Keith Barney.

8) How are you expanding the cinematic frame?

This goes back to question number 2. I am certainly not doing things that haven’t been done before. And there are other people who are doing great things with live cinema at the moment as well. I’m a big fan of Brent Green’s work – we have done shows together and I’ve learned some things from him about touring with a band. With that said, I do think that there’s a huge push that comes from technology towards online – everything is gravitating in that direction, away from a theatrical model of cinema and towards video on demand or streaming or downloading. I am not against the internet – it’s great for many things – but there’s also a huge difference in the way people engage with media online versus in other contexts – a theatrical context for example. I am creating films that will hopefully be meaningful for the people who watch them. I think that sitting in a theater is still the best way to make that happen. So, in some ways, I feel like what I am doing is pushing cinema in a direction that it’s moving away from. Doing something that can only be screened live and when Dave Cerf and I and the band are there, it feels anachronistic perhaps. But as I pointed out, live cinema is not new.