Agricola Media

I’m no expert in producing films — I’ve only made five of them so far — but I do know that even one really bad experience can be a great teacher.

I spent about five months on a film last year, a profile of a local artist that ended up being nearly 25 minutes long. I thought the film’s subject — let’s call her “Anita,” for the sake of privacy — understood what I was going for in the film, but after screening the final edit, it turned out I was completely wrong.

Much to my surprise, Anita hated it!

I thought I’d done all my homework. I’d given Anita the edited audio track, essentially giving her an opportunity to “vet” the content. At that point, she liked it fine.

The real problems came when I showed her the first visuals. Anita disliked my visual interpretation of her work, and my characterization of her creative process.

Her reaction went beyond dislike. After several conversations by phone and by email, and many attempts to harmonize her wish-list with my vision, it became clear that there was no way I could please her. I felt I had no choice but to shelve the film.

It was truly amazing to me how our relationship changed in the blink of an eye. From cordial, cooperative, relaxed, and friendly to cold, abrupt, and…over. I was blown away — and I stayed blown away for quite some time.

This wasn’t just a bad “review;” this was a complete disaster. Five months of work with nothing to show for it. At least, publicly.

I hadn’t asked Anita to sign a release. At the beginning of the relationship, I felt I needed to build trust, not impose a legal constraint. This wasn’t negligence on my part, but instead a calculated decision. A release wouldn’t have provided me total protection anyway; in this country, a person can still sue if they want to.

After the relationship fell apart, I second-guessed myself. Perhaps having a signed document would have helped me go through the motions of releasing the film. But did I really want to release it under those terms? As an unauthorized bio?

That’s definitely not how I saw my role as filmmaker. Moreover, I felt I needed to take the high ground and respect Anita’s wishes. After all, the ultimate responsibility for her bad feelings lay with me as a producer, right?

In my mind, I felt I couldn’t breach Anita’s trust, even if I felt she was breaching mine. In the final analysis, it was her face on the big screen, not mine.

So I buried the film deep in my hard drive, where it resides to this day.

This chapter in my life as a filmmaker was painful and dispiriting, but over time I’ve come to see Anita’s perspective a little more clearly. I even see her disappointment as a kind of a mirror image of my own. I’ve gotten to the point where I can put the frustration out of my mind. More importantly, I’ve moved on to other projects.

A friend gave me some good advice: roll over it like a bump in the road.

He was right. What’s the alternative? Just give up? Never risk anything going forward?

I’ve learned some valuable lessons from this epic failure. These days, before I ever pick up a camera, I spend a lot more time getting to know my subjects — and letting them get to know me. I do everything I can to make sure they understand that this is a film about them, and not for them. There’s a big difference.

I’m not interested in making a puff piece or an infomercial. I have my own artistic goals. In the future, if the vibe starts trending towards conflict or instability, I think I’ll pick up on it much quicker, and either resolve the issue or consider aborting the project, long before I’ve put in months of work.

I’ll still share the progress of the film as it develops, and particularly while it’s being edited. That seems like a sensible precaution. I’m even posting weekly drafts of my latest film on a protected page of my website, so my subject always knows what’s happening.

No more, “The film is done, what do you think?” and then hope for the best. Springing the film on Anita, like I unfortunately did, was a huge gamble. I know that now.

I would have been better off buying a lotto ticket!

This will be the first of three posts on lessons learned from three of my films: Captain, and two artist bios…
Many and wondrous are the rewards garnered from working with a film subject. I mean “film subject” as in a person I’m interested in filming – and not a theme or topic per se.

The people I’ve filmed are people I like, find interesting, and who I find inspirational in one way or another. Someone I can learn from, someone who has something to share or who has qualities or traits that are elevated – even virtuous. Richard Updaw, the character I followed in Captain is certainly such a person. After meeting, getting to know, and ultimately making a film with Rich, I can finally say that I’ve met a man’s man, (I’d heard that expression throughout my life, but never really knew what it meant – or maybe I never knew an individual I could apply it to!). Dick is good looking, calm, confident, charming, down to earth, – and a born leader. Those were my impressions of him the day Ann, my wife, and I met him and they still hold true today. Amazing how those first impressions can be so dead-on… He rendered us Good Samaritan assistance by jump-starting our car which had developed a dead battery due to a case of my leaving-the-headlights-on-negligence. He was glad to help out. I noticed his Marine cap, of which he has an amazing assortment, and within moments were were talking about his days as a United States Marine, his time in Vietnam, and his own personal quest to learn more about a dead World War 2 vet that eventually became the basis for the film we made.

We socialized for at least a year (with no thought of making a film on my part), just enjoyable, regular get-togethers, until it finally dawned on me that Dick’s story about a long dead Marine could make a good film. And once I proposed the project, there was complete buy-in from Rich. So the timeline for the film was thus: we became friends, got to know each other pretty well, and then we made a film. I realize now that the trust bank that we had built up prior to making the film was the foundation for the success of the project.

There was never a time that Dick didn’t give complete cooperation to the needs of the film. He was always willing to accommodate my, “just one more shot”, requests. He respected my judgement during the editing/shaping of the story. And I learned to respect his wish that the story be focused on Robert Hodes, the 19-year old killed at Iwo Jima, and not himself. Ironically, in doing so I believe Dick’s character comes through all the stronger.

An example of Dick’s cooperation-and commitment to the project: when he became tearful during one interview, he didn’t pull in and ask me to remove the shot from the film. He realized it was true and authentic and was enough of a man to be easy-going about this private moment going public. Dick’s agenda was simple: to tell this forgotten Marine’s story. To that end he put his own ego a distant second … at least that’s the way I perceived it.

The film has received some good reviews, and our friendship has continued. Rich still comes to dinner regularly even though he’s a busy guy. At 67, he drives school bus everyday AND maintains a 60 acre farm by himself. He has lots of pets. Cats, dogs, horses, goats, and a mule with that lets go, when he thinks he should be fed, with a bray that reminds me of the alien mother ship from Close Encounters of The Third Kind letting loose with that window-shattering volley of notes…(go to 5:58 in this utube clip to understand my rather obscure reference)

Anyway, looking back I know the film benefited from the trust brought about by our prior relationship. We both knew enough about each other to know that we had each other’s best interests at heart – and that ultimately came to include the best interests of the film as well… So the takeaway moral, for me at least from this experience, is do your homework! Develop a relationship with your film subject. Find out who they are and go with your gut about first impressions, but in the words of Ronald Reagan, “trust but verify”. Do it not only to make a better film, in the sense of delving deeply into your subject, but to ensure that you ultimately avoid the disaster of not having a film at all.

My next post will talk about lessons learned from an experience that didn’t turn out so well…

I’m finishing up my film on concert pianist Mira Gill who lives, performs, and teaches in New York City. The film is a little bio/profile of a wonderfully gifted artist with an equally strong artistic spirit. Material for this film has come from a variety of sources; family photos, scrapbook items from Mira’s youth, footage I shot in NYC and Maine, archival footage in the public domain, and finally some low quality footage shot of Mira performing with the Jefferson Symphony Orchestra at age 15.

The footage in the clip below barely approaches VHS quality, (and that’s being kind), and to make matters worse, perhaps in extended play mode which would give it that worst possible quality look that we all love of course. A cave painting shot filmed through a fish bowl – you get the idea. It was a wide shot so Mira, occupies just a small section in the frame. At first, I thought, no way – the footage looks really crappy – it’s going to look even worse surrounded by the HD footage I shot for the film. I can’t use it, can I? Then I played it a couple of more times. Again, the footage was so poor you can just make out that it might be Mira – or not! (trust me, I have a signed affadavit!).

I kept replaying the clip, and each time I looked at it I liked it more. It finally dawned on me that this is the real power of art: that as bad as the picture quality was, the performer and the orchestra surrounding her broke through the quality barrier…to freedom! Once I knew I’d be using it, I blew up the frame in several places, pushing the quality lower and the impact higher. I did this so that I’d be able to punctuate the performance with a couple of cuts. The one at the crescendo of the piece is perfect – the cut from the super close-up of Mira, in all her pixellated glory, to the wide shot as the music finishes. I think it works really well – judge for yourself.

Throughout the editing of this film, I found myself getting caught up in the performance each time I passed it in the film. In fact it became more thrilling each time I played it…the performance of this 15 year old phenomenon and the the community orchestra that rose to the occasion and played for all they were worth. They were like a freight train barreling down the tracks. For me the clip I’d like to share below is one of my all-time favorites in my own mental cinematic archives, …and I’m thrilled to be using it in my film.

My reward this weekend for finishing taxes is to sit down and go through the newly revised, Naked Filmmaking: How To Make A Feature-Length Film – Without A Crew – For $10,000-$6,000 Or Less Revised & Expanded For DSLR Filmmakers (Volume 1 by Mike Carroll) . Whew! If that title doesen’t pique your interest, I don’t know what will!

I am fortunate, and honored, to have been sent a preview copy of the book earlier this week by Mike who asked me to page through it and share my thoughts about it with him. I’ll be writing up comments for Mike later this weekend…

I don’t know how this guy does it. He works full time as a videographer at Channel KCRA in Sacramento. He’s completed 3 feature length films. “Year” and “Nightbeats” are dramas; Dog Soldiers-A Dogumentary is his one documentary. He’s also written Breaking Into TV News How To Get A Job & Excel As A TV Reporter-Photographer, must reading if you’re a young person contemplating a broadcast journalism career.

Oh, he’s about my age too,maybe a bit younger, (I just turned 60). I imagine that when I’m tucking myself into bed at 8:45pm, Mike, three time zones away, is just getting home from his job and about to begin another workday on his twin passions – writing and filmmaking.
He is ALWAYS thinking out of the box – questioning the conventional wisdom that you need a crew to make a film, or a twenty thousand dollar camera, or a distributor, or a catering budget. The guy, and his terrific wife Bonnie, do it all themselves.
I think the real subtext though in his two books, is what it takes to become a self-made person. It’s not like he has to pound his chest about it; it’s just there. I really like, and am drawn to that Walter Mitty thing he has going…to me it wouldn’t matter what field he was writing about. It could be Naked Shoemaking, and I’d want to read about a guy who has always got his sights on the road ahead…

The latest film project at Agricola Media is nearing completion. “Not Knowing, But Trusting…” is a profile of gifted artist and clothes designer Andrea Geer. Producers Dave Esposito and Ann Pennella happened on Ms. Geer by chance during an open Friday night studio tour in downtown Rochester, NY. A brief but fascinating discussion followed, and within minutes the producers at Agricola Media knew they had their next film subject!

The film focuses on Ms. Geer’s fascinating creative process, along with her goals as an artist, and should be worthwhile viewing for anyone interested in how art coupled with function comes into being.
“Not Knowing, But Trusting…” will be available online for viewing in mid-November, 2012.

Production is moving forward on a new Agricola Media documentary; working title “Of a Piece”. Producers Ann Pennella and Dave Esposito have found a wonderful and inspiring film subject in the person of Andrea Geer, a clothing designer/artist living in Rochester, NY. Owner of Andrea Geer Designs, Ms. Geer designs and crafts unique clothing with an eye to color, line and shape. Strongly influenced by the Abstract Expressionists, Ms. Geer’s work is both passionate and highly experimental. The film is being shot and edited with an eye to providing an evocative look into a focused, committed artist who is constantly looking ahead…

We at Agricola Media are pleased to announce that the documentary Captain will be aired on the PBS affiliate here in Rochester New York on Veterans day 2012, as well as other dates to be announced. This marks the first Agricola Media documentary to be aired on a Public Broadcasting station. Needless to say we are pleased and honored that this story of a fallen soldier, remembered by a man he never met, will reach a wider audience. Close captioning will be added to the film before its PBS debut. If you would like to view this film in its entirety online, it can be viewed here.

I’m very pleased to announce that Agricola Media’s documentary “Captain” is now available here or on Amazon. The film is the moving story of a USMC Marine Vietnam veteran who made it his mission to learn about a forgotten nineteen year old Marine killed at the battle of Iwo Jima near the end of World War ll. Production for Captain began in December, 2011 and finished up May 20, 2012. The story is told by Captain Richard Updaw, USMC, who served in Vietnam from 1966-1970. His chance observation at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery in Rochester, NY was the trigger that drove months of research to find out
the the details behind the life and death of Cpl. Robert F. Hodes, a nineteen year old marine who died at the battle of Iwo Jima at the age of nineteen. For me, the experience of producing this film has been both moving and educational…I now have an inkling, just an inkling, of what it must have been like for those who fought and died, and I am in awe of what they gave up-and what their surviving comrades live with decades later.

Agricola Media’s Captain, will be available for viewing free here on this site this coming Monday, Memorial Day! This film project began in December 2011, and is in the very final stages of editing at this moment. The film draws on interviews by film subject Richard Updaw, a USMC Captain who served in Vietnam and who lives in Rush, NY. The film brings together interviews, archival film, and photos in a very personal story about one man’s mission to keep alive the memory of a long dead 19 year old Corporal killed in the battle of Iwo Jima in 1945. Read the article in the Democrat and Chronicle this morning about the project.

To Have and To Give, can now be viewed for free online. The film, made in 2011, documents a family’s experience with living organ donation.

Agricola Media’s inaugural documentary, To Have and To Give, is an inspiring story of living organ donation. The film couldn’t be more personal for me: I was not only the filmmaker, but also the donor in question!

In 2001, my brother-in-law, the violinist Sung Rai Sohn, was terminally ill with liver disease. The prospects for finding a liver from a deceased donor were dim. A newspaper article on living donation got me thinking: perhaps I could give a portion of my own liver to Sung Rai. The twin surgeries were successful. Sung Rai and I are both living active and productive lives ten years later.

I made this documentary to connect with family and friends of patients who are in the same boat as Sung Rai. The promise – and at times difficult reality – of living donation is presented in the form of interviews with family members, transplant surgeons, social workers, and a Living Donor Advocate from the Center for Living Donation at Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City