Beginning Filmmaking

The other day my roommate was using some toner and the fruity alcohol smell drifted out into the living room and transported me back to grade eight when I was best friends with Lauren. This was before the day at the beginning of grade nine when Lauren told me that she didn't want to be friends with me anymore because I wasn't cool enough. The best part was her new best friend Karen who said to me, re: her presence for the conversation: "I'm not part of this, I just want to watch."

Anyway, Lauren's older sister Jessie was that kind of older teenager who was adept at things like how to use toner (or even that Oxy stuff), which stores in the mall to get your white jeans at, how much CK perfume to pour on and how to gel your curls, skills that left me kind of in awe. She was one of those girls who was popular and ugly, which even I knew meant getting to watch all your friends get attention from boys while the only way she could get such attention was to be a slut, which, apparently, she was. She also had some major anger issues, because she was incredibly cruel to her little sister Lauren. I got to witness some dramatic fights at Lauren's house. Some serious door slamming and screeching and hitting and kicking.

Lots of fllmmakers have stories about Super 8 and ketchup to illustrate their from-the-womb lust for movie-making. I don't have any such stories because my family didn't have a camcorder, just very well-stocked libraries and frequent trips to plays. But Lauren had a camcorder and we used to film weird little movies at her house, in-camera edits of stories made up on the fly. The thing I most remember, though, is after a particularly devastating fight in which Jessie had inflicted some injustice on Lauren, Lauren and I were shut up in her room and she made me film a tearful testimonial from her about how much she hated her sister and how she would always hate her, for the rest of their lives. She wanted to document the moment. I remember shooting her in black and white as she talked, aware of the seriousness of the moment which was actually happening and trying desperately to get the camera to reflect the reality of it as best I could. The panic I felt at not being able to do it justice.

Maybe that's what a good take is, when you are screaming in your head because it is so good, and yet you are terrified that you are not capturing it wholly. Maybe a good filmmaker is someone who can stop head-screaming because they know what they need from that moment and are confident they don't need to worry about capturing anything else.