MONTREAL (djc Features) – “I used to work in marketing,” says Jean-Renaud Gauthier, director of the computer-animated short L’Astro-Poère (“astro” from astronaut and “poère” a derogative Quebec slang for a not-too-bright person). This little gem opened to a packed room on Saturday and promptly rocked the house. He adds wryly: “I had access to a rendering farm and Maya 3D software. It occurred to me that I should use the opportunity and find the guts to bring to reality some of those dreams of mine.”
The annual Glitch Fest [hyperlink: www.glitchfest.com] in Montreal is made of such moments and the 2004 edition bears witness to unprecedented strength in those dreams, at a time when audiences are most receptive to the fresh, the new, the original. Indeed, the fifth edition of this multicultural festival of video shorts, the only one in the world with such a far-reaching agenda, crammed 99 films into three evenings, opening with the over-the-top dark humour of Assassinage , a film told almost completely through the crosshairs of a brutally eager sniper, and closing with the heart-stopping pastels of Bid ‘em In, an animated tour-de-force of composition and rhythm on a very poignant theme.
The programming, culled from the more than 500 entries received, offered a true window on the comradeship of filmmakers worldwide, on their universal desire to share their hopes and fears: 7:35 de la mañana by Nacho Vigalondo, an inspired take on desperate love and the dating game, struck its Montreal audience as powerfully as the The Straightjacket Lottery, a fast-paced look at what makes us tick and how our perception of sanity and madness too often depends on which side of the lens we are looking through.
When asked whether he would be interested in working with actors, the man whose film detonated the Saturday portion of Glitch Fest 2004 is quick to point out that it isn’t about live actors versus animation – it’s about maintaining creative control. Sylvie Molina, a lively Parisian recently arrived in Quebec, says, “I had the same conversations in France. There is no doubt that we must always keep financial considerations in mind, but that doesn’t mean that the current model is the best one.” As usual, one is tempted to ask why so many artistic decisions that break the norm be second-guessed by film distributors.
This issue seems to resonate with the audience as well. “I heard about it through CISM FM,” explains Louis-Philippe, the 23-year-old CEO of a thriving web design firm who came to Glitch because of “well, curiosity really but I like the originality of the concept.” He expresses mixed feelings about the Sunday program, which showcased sci-fi, drama, comedy, live-action and animation in no discernable order, but is quick to point out an interest for films that “break out of the mainstream.” The riotous applause bestowed on Glitch’s award-winning La fin du Néolibéralisme (The End of Neoliberalism), a biting satire starring the fast-food industry’s favourite clown, and the extraordinary response to the lyrical Hello prove that films who dare to be different will earn high marks from cinema lovers bored with the cookie-cutter Hollywood by-products.
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Lance Taylor’s Monstories: Fine Diners was one of many award-winning shorts screened at Montreal’s Glitch Fest, an annual showcase of Canadian short films. |
“The fact is that you do not even need expensive shooting or editing tools,” adds Mathieu Harton, star and director of Aucun problème (No sweat), a cheeky tale of two completely inept men having car troubles in the middle of nowhere. When asked what brand of camera was used to capture a particularly arresting 360-degree shot, the young filmmaker explains with a laugh: “None! We stabilized the footage in the editing room, using home computers and Adobe Premiere.” Jean-François Robichaud concurs: “Look at La Colère du Père-Noël [Santa’s Wrath], I did all that by hand, with a bit of help from Adobe After Effects.” The makers of Monstories: Fine Diners couldn’t agree more: the team at Facelift Entertainment uses traditional animation techniques and bring to life clever, universally accessible shorts that left the audience in stitches and won them Glitch’s Audience Prize.
When asked why such quality works too often remain unseen, Fabienne Pyun offers: “The fact is that there are really no venues other than festivals and the occasional TV show, usually late at night.” Pyun is a veteran from the very first Glitch and although she bemoans the lack of interest at the distribution end, she glows with pleasure at the effect this festival has on an unsuspecting public: “They arrive with no preconceived notions; some decided to come and check us out on a whim. They leave with terrific memories.” She smiles with a hint of sadness: “In a way, short films becoming mainstream might kill that feeling.”
She has a point: Modern theatre began its life in open, improvised venues and though the roots of its technology go deep, the birth of cinema can be traced back to the Boulevard des Capucines on a Paris night of December 1895 where, in a basement salon of the Grand Café, Louis and Auguste Lumière showed a program of ten shorts for the first time to a paying audience.
So it is perhaps ironic that distributors shy away from this format although, just as then, an audience does exist. “Digital TV on demand with interactive content where the viewer can watch a short, hyperlink to the filmmaker’s bio, click on an MP3 site to download the tune she just heard on the soundtrack – all that will soon change the way movies and especially short films are made available,” concludes Sylvie Molina.. Cinephiles can only hope that some gutsy Canadian distributor steps up to the plate with the intent to spread movies past the film-fest fringe.
In the meantime, we have Glitch Fest, a venue allowing the talent of tomorrow to showcase their best work, for the lasting pleasure of a hungry audience.
The Glitch Fest offers the best films of previous years both on DVD and as streaming content on their website at www.glitchfest.com
