For those of you who don’t know, you can watch films in semi-private viewing stations in at the NFB in Toronto for $2.00 a session (or for a $12 membership. I went in to see the documentary, Hardwood. After planning to submit a proposal to the NFB/TVO for their Calling Card program, I had wanted to see other calling card winners to get a feeling of how much documentary you could fit into a ½ hr. I had seen Harvest Queens, Cheating Death and 9 months 6 blocks, previous Calling Card winners, but hadn’t the chance to see this one prior to submitting our own proposal.
Last week I saw it. And I watched Hardwood twice in a row. But even more than it being a great film, especially for an emerging filmmaker, it is a great personal film. The openness and the generosity that his family gave to him as they talked about events in their lives and how it affected them stayed with me later.
Of course we can imagine how much easier it must be to get good close personal accounts from your family – assuming you have that kind of family in the first place. But what I sense in Hardwood was the family embarked on a new journey and one that I can imagine only came from love for the filmmaker.
The person that resonated the most for me was Hubert’s brother as he seemed so present and open. It confirmed my belief that characters are not necessarily more “interesting” because they look good on the page, because they are marginalized, come from remarkable circumstances or facing insurmountable odds. There are great stories in all of us, even the most psychologically healthy of us. None of us gets through life unscathed. The challenge of course is how to bring that out in a way that feels open and real, especially knowing the camera is there. And I wondered what it would be like as a man to talk about the kinds of family experiences that brings men to tears. And I think what a courageous person Hubert Davis must be.
It also made me think about the meaning we take from our lives. Some naturally do it more than others. So I wondered if the film was a healing experience for all of them. It seemed like it from the film. But I also know that people don’t always choose make meaning from moments of their lives even when we expect it from them most. Each moment, no matter how much it impacts us, could just be another moment in life. That sometimes the intimacy and the vulnerability is too much, too laden with emotions that its better to leave it aside for those moments late at night when you can’t sleep. Or sometimes the other baggage in life is still too heavy to let those precious moments have the impact we want them too. Too much is still left unsaid, clouding the clarity of those experiences. What was it like for these people? Did they later choose to make meaning and heal from it? As I thought of this after, I recalled again how responsible we are for our own happiness. And films that can you lead you down these paths of thought are to be treasured.
I also really wondered about the process for the filmmaker himself. There is a unique and intimate process when you edit a film. Hubert Davis edited this one. That meant he reviewed the footage countless times always thinking of how it would tell a story, how real, how succinct, but inevitably he would have been reviewing it from a personal viewpoint, watching them over and over again with all the baggage and memories of the past that went with it. He needed to sacrifice some parts for others, even if they were precious, important, because only those moments that can tell the story in a half hour can stay, regardless of how attached the subjects or even the director may be to certain material. The chosen moments start to become raised, and change as things that stand on their own. Like viewing a photograph they becomes separated from reality, weightier as it becomes the symbol for more.
Watching the pieces he kept over and over, in the rough cut, in the fine cut, in the mix, in the score, etc., I imagine he would have seen more and more with each viewing. Different nuances would have surfaced all though his own filter, things perhaps others would not have seen.
And then he had to sit through approval sessions with people who know little about his family except what he chose to share, and deal with criticisms and comments and recommendations. Was he exhausted from the film later, tired of watching it, ready to put it down? And what about his family? Did it change their relationships? If I had a chance to talk to Hubert, it is the meaning of this personal process that I would like to explore with him.
My only disappointment with the film is that it wasn’t longer. I wanted to know more and I think the film could have supported an hour. If you are downtown in TO and have a ½ hr or so, check it out at the NFB.
