9-10-2001

and now, an open letter to the people responsible for the "documentary" i just suffered through:

dear vanity-fuelled filmmakers and actors of "carving out our name,"

sadly, i did not enjoy your film. in fact, to say that i didn't enjoy it would be an understatement in the grandest sense. it left me confused, angry and offended as a film-festival attendee. i wasn't offended because it was controversial or explicit. i was offended because it's probably the biggest—and DUMBEST—piece of cinematic poo-poo i've ever had the misfortune of sitting through.

i remain completely STUNNED that the admittedly suspect audience (one that appeared to have materialized from the toronto club scene or were perhaps hired from central casting to pose as "fans" and "supporters") actually APPLAUDED... and not, as i did, because the dreadful thing was finally OVER.

now, i'm willing to cut you all some slack. you're young. you're new. maybe there are some things you just didn't know. so, to that end, here's a small list of things to keep in mind the next time any of you get the ridiculous notion that your self-absorbed navel-gazing should be filmed AND shown to other people:

1. a documentary is supposed to be NON-fiction. that means, no pretending. no pre-written scripts or pre-planned scenes. that means, the stuff we (the audience) see is real, and truthful and what actually happened. i'm sorry, but i don't believe for one millisecond that an actor would, say, drive to a muddy field in the middle of nowhere, strip completely naked, rail against god and the heavens and THEN do wind sprints through the muck with all his bits and pieces out for the world to see. ditto the scene where one of your "subjects" drives out to the middle of the desert, "stumbles upon" a little scrap heap and proceeds to beat the living daylights out of stuff with a bat.

2. when you have people onscreen, please tell the audience who they are. do not assume, as you evidently did, that everyone in the world knows your subjects and all the people in their lives. if, for example, a girl wanders into the frame and starts talking to the camera, it might be nice to know if she's someone's sister, neighbor, publicist, cousin or girlfriend. waiting until one of the actors starts kissing her (thereby giving us a *hint* of who she might be) doesn't cut it.

3. as per item #2, please give the audience some frame of reference as to time and place. when do the events take place? last year? three years ago? yesterday? similarly, if you're actually going to identify your locations, make sure you time it properly. a scene of the interior of a plane, for example, should not have the word "calgary" supered at the bottom of the screen. a plane is not calgary. calgary is calgary and we'll get there in about three screen minutes. thanks.

4. try to have a point. think of the audience. what are you trying to tell them? or show them? think of how your actors—er, i mean, subjects—will come off. here's a little extra help: looking like big dumbasses who take themselves too seriously is a BAD thing. write that down. BAD.

5. if you just wanna make a home movie of your buddies... something you can all sit around and laugh at because you're all so clever and deep and witty and wise and introspective and serious... then do it, but don't pretend it's anything BUT that.

in closing, one of you mentioned in the film that roger ebert once approached you to tell you how much he enjoyed your work. well, savor that moment because i can pretty much guarantee you that he won't be giving a thumbs-up to this directionless, needlessly confusing, thoroughly boring, shallow and hollow movie.

now, go away and look pretty. but for god's sake don't ever do anything like this again.

warmest regards,
vickie
XOXO