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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (April 1, 1997)
Students take a seat in the director’s chair. BY CARRIE BELL Assistant Edi tor Photos courtesy of Michael Marcus, Florida State U., and Kif.rnan Holland, U. of New Mexico Along time ago in a galaxy far, far away, a U. of Southern California film student created a dehumanized world where people lived under ground, emotion was outlawed and numbers replaced names. The futuristic love story and the young director caught the eye of Francis Ford Coppola, who helped turn the 20-minute debut into a full-length feature. The film? THX-1138. The student? George Lucas. Of course, not all cinema-obsessed college kids are launched at warp speed to fame by some Hollywood hot shot. But all filmmakers have to start somewhere, and that somewhere is often a university. School days Early in a career, the worst film you can make is no film, according to Colorado College film professor Tom Sanny. Although directing ability stems from natural talent, he says, a formal education and trial films build character, teach disci pline and act as a therapy of sorts. “Movies in America are like hockey in Canada,” Sanny says. “We've just always done them well. My role as a professor is not to make films, but to make filmmakers.” Most students fade into the biz with short projects and theory class es. Colorado junior Vanessa I omasello says the best way to break into the field is to try every job, no matter how small. “Helping out older students on final projects lets me see how differ ent directors work and how to best compensate for problems that might arise when I’m in charge,” says 1 omasello, who’s working on a visual interpretation of a William Blake poem. A film is born Once the tools are mastered and the confidence raised, the adven ture of filmmaking begins — often with an idea. Most plots are inspired by every day events. New York U. grad stu dent and Student Academy Award winner Phil Bertelsen fictionalized his parents' interracial love story. “The relationship was a constant source of inquiry for me,” he says. “It was hard to decide how much artistic license to take. It proves life can be stranger than fiction.” Cornell U.’s Chris Spurgin wrote his film entirely around a prop. When he was younger, Spur gin bought a Moonwalk bounce house, hoping to get rich quick. After hauling it a few places and realizing how big a hassle it was, he sold it on the condition that he _ could use it later Back to the cutting board. in a mm. “It's an absurd comedy about a guy whose life tails apart after he steals a Moonwalk. The metaphor of the plot and the prop was too good to pass up,” the senior says. Other directors aren’t so gracefully inspired. In fact, it hit Albany State U., Ga., junior Keith Wade over the head. He made Chillin' Till We Breathe in response to Terry McMil lan's Waiting To Exhale. “The movie is my male response to her woman’s film. I wanted to pull the covers off male emotion.” Reality bytes After hearing endless stories of actors’ egos, set feuds and missed lines, it’s no wonder some students opt to direct computer cursors instead of flaky thespians. And with user-friendly technology and Toy Storys success, who can blame them? “As a computer science major, 1 felt the only hope 1 had was to program database systems,” says Kiernan Holland, a U. of New Mexico senior. Holland used his software skills to create Rise of the Thorax, a short that won $2,000 in an international animation competition. Holland and seven other UNM students are making Malibu Hamlet, a five-minute film that’s “Shake speare with a surf-punk twist.” “It’s easier in a group because everyone shares their strengths to complete a final goal,” UNM senior Elizabeth Dwyer says. “The comput er is a way for me to be an artist, even though 1 can’t draw on paper." Lights, camera, social action Not all movie buffs turn their talents toward big money, popularity or laughs. Enter the socially respon sible, politically aware director. Chicago’s Street-Level Youth Media provides a creative outlet for at-risk youth using filmmaking to address urban issues. Hampshire College, Mass., senior Andrew Bracken worked tor the program last summer and hopes to use the experience tor future documentaries. “I've seen a lot of friends drop out and turn to drugs and gangs. It could’ve just as easily been me.” he says. “Working for this group helps me do my part not to let that hap pen to the next generation.” Instead of shedding light on cur rent issues, Florida State U. sopho more Michael Marcus helps people remember the past with his docu mentary, The Holocaust — A Decep tion of Truth. 1 he need to make it consumed him after he returned home from a journey through Polish concentra tion camps. “The trip made me realize it was my responsibility as a child of this generation to help expose the hor rors of the Holocaust,” Marcus says. “It was more important than school, than work, than my social life. 1 had to share what 1 saw and felt.” Marcus spent months looking for the right images, writing, edit ing, seeking permission and raising funds to complete the film, which is now distributed as an educational tool for high schools in four states. The money pit Tales of Spike Lee maxing out credit cards to finish Do The Right Thing remind students of what it takes to transfer an idea from paper to reality: money, and lots of it. Depending on length, scale and quality, student movies cost anywhere from a few hundred dol lars to tens of thousands to complete. “No one wants to hear about dreams unless you have the money to make them happen,” Wade says. Money comes from jobs, grants, scholarships, parents and loans. Cornell senior and Filmmakers Club president Josh Fagin suggests making rich friends. “You should always be prepared to tack on an extra Si00 to the price of everything.” James Madison U., Va., seniors Jell L.ofgren and Bill Johnson founded Gemini Entertainment to raise money for their ntade-lor-TV movie, To Helene, and give students production experience. “Not being at a film school forces us to be resourceful trailblazers. We want Gemini to help people realize their dreams after we’re gone,” Johnson says. With everything that can go wrong, it’s easy to understand how an aspir ing director could get dis couraged quickly. Har vard U. law student Zach Lehman, who won a Stu (lent Academy Award ror ms ciay marion film while at Dartmouth College, N.H., says your best triend is patience. great advice, but won't help you unless you keep in mind that no matter what happens, it’s all in a day’s work." “Triple however long you _ think it will take. Be able to take Carrie Bell doesn't know much about film criticism. Follow your heart. Fight making, except for that hidden camera she for funding help. All of this is stashed in her roommate's closet. Oscar Child Limos arrive and anticipation builds. The stars have come out to play. Sharon Stone is either wearing or saying something critics will moan about tomorrow. It could be the biggest night of a student filmmaker’s life — the Student Academy Awards. Now in its 24th year, the program awards the top three films directed by full time students in the categories of animation, alternative, dramatic and documen tary; a fourth award goes to a foreign student director. “The Academy is interested in the future of the film industry, and colleges are where new filmmakers are coming from,” says Rich Miller, the SAA’s administra tion director. “It encourages good filmmakers to keep making movies.” With more than 300 entries a year, competition is steep to say the least — just look at past winners like Robert Zemeckis, Spike Lee and Bob Saget. “We only send the best nine films in each category to be screened by Academy members,” Miller says. “The movies should be resume pieces that show you can direct and tell stories on screen.” On top of the prestige, winners are treated to a trip to Hollywood, a cash prize, a celebrity-filled awards ceremony and power meetings. “The Hollywood people take it very seriously. Doors open that you never knew existed,” says Jon Andrews, a Yale. U. grad and Silver Award winner. “In a word, the program is affirmation.” Although star treatment felt great, Patricia Cardoso, a '96 UCLA grad who won first place for The Water Carrier, says meeting others with similar dreams was more inspiring. “This was an amazing group of people who shared my commitment to film,” says Cardoso, who is filming a romantic comedy for Ciby, a French film company. “There were many times I swore to quit, but the winners gave me hope and strength to go forward.” — CB
