You are about to release your film Martyr - in a few words,
what is it about?
Martyr
is about a young woman’s obsession with martyrdom while at the same time
it is about her own empowerment.
Martyr
is the story of Camille, a young French woman who’s visiting New York
with Julien, her boyfriend, a hot French DJ. She has
nothing much to do except be with him during his gigs. In
one of those gigs, she meets another French woman, Elisa, who’s an
assistant for Tadeusz, a New York photographer. Elisa
offers Camille a job as a model for her boss. Julien is
not happy. Julien and Camille live with Dave, a New
York aspiring writer who feeds Julien’s jealousy.
Camille
inspires Tadeusz to work on a Martyr angle for a photoshoot. Tadeusz
sets aside the work he was doing with Gabrielle, his live-in girlfriend
and in-house model, to pursue this new idea. Gabrielle
is not very happy.
Elisa,
in the meantime, never hides her feelings for Camille.
The
work sends Camille in a wild exploration of her inner self and her
obsessions, particularly the one obsession she had since she was a child,
St Eulalia, the Spanish virging martyr from the 3rd century.
These
are the main ingredients in the story of Martyr.
The film has a religious subtext to
it. Could you elaborate on that, and a few words on Saint Eulalia, the
martyr central to your film?
I was
raised a Catholic with a strong Jesuit influence. I was exposed to the
iconography of Catholicism from a very early age. In my
school, a jesuit school, there were statues and paintings of Christ and
martyrs all over the place. There was an insistance in
showing Christ in all his suffering.
In
addition the nuns, who were our teachers those very early years of grammar
school, extolled the sublime glory of martyrdom.
Did
all that influence me? Yes.
Once
in New York, back in the 80’s, I was browsing in an arts store where I
was looking through a large number of litographies of paintings and
amongst them there was one of a beautiful painting about St Eulalia by
John William Waterhouse (1885), that I would’ve loved to buy, but I
didn’t have the money then. I’ll do it one day.
Years
later, while working in a film project in Cuba, I visited a bookstore that
had books of paintings. One of them, in Spanish but
published in Hungary, had medieval paintings from Spain. One
of them was a reproduction of an altar piece titled The Life of St
Eulalia.
It’s
a step by step, graphic description of the martyrdom of the Spanish saint.
A passion play.
I had
to learn more about that incredibly Christ-like saint, who according to
that altar piece, was crucified twice.
That
martyr stuck in my mind and later on, while working on a miniseries, I
began to elaborate the story of Camille, a young woman obsessed with the
saint.
To what extent did the religious context influence the look of your
film?
The
look of the film is influenced by art, rather than by religion.
Maybe some religious art, like Caravagio; or not so religious like
Bosch … but also by less religious artists like Vermeer, Magritte and
others. Some influences are intended, others just
popped up from my subconciouss.
Carmen Paintoux |
A few words about your lead actress Carmen Paintoux, and how
easy/difficult was it for her to play this quite demanding role, and was
there ever a line she just refused to cross?
Carmen
is a very talented actress and an artist as well. She’s
very dedicated to the roles she plays and very disciplined in her work.
The role was demanding but she had a lengthy preparation.
I can say that the character grew in her over time; she turned into
Camille at one point.
She
previously worked with me in the TV miniseries El Hombre de la Luna, her
first time acting. She played the dual role of twin
sisters. It was around that time that I was thinking of
another movie, similar to Martyr, but set in colonial Cuba. I
wanted Carmen to play the lead role, a role as demanding as the one in Martyr. We worked on some rehearsal for some scenes for
that movie. We even taped some of those rehearsals.
But
money talks. I could never get around to have the funds
for that movie and I wasn’t going to sit and wait, so I worked on the
script for Martyr and soon after we were working on it.
Carmen
didn’t set any limits to what she was willing to do and I didn’t ask
for more than what we have in the film. Does she have
limits? We all do and perhaps one day I’ll learn what
her limits are.
What can you tell us about audience reactions to the film so far?
The
few people that have seen it in the very few public screenings I had of
the film-in-progress have had mixed reactions. In one
exhibition, at a festival, I was sitting in the back of the screening room
and at one point one man jumped from his seat, like a bat out of hell, ran
to the door and had a hard time opening it to get out. He
was truly shaken by the film.
But
the discussion after the film was very good. Most
people were very impressed by the film and the subject.
There
were four young women in charge of letting people in. One
of them was working in the hotel I was staying in. She
told me she loved the movie.
In
another festival, I was outside the screening room and after the showing
of the film a young man came to me and hugged me, thanking me for making
that film.
In
yet another festival, another young man asked me if he could write his
University thesis about the film. I gave him a DVD copy
so he could study the film to write his thesis.
And
then there’s the one screening that brought Amy Hesketh to my life [Amy
Hesketh interview - click here]. She
saw the movie and all she wanted to do after seeing it was to work in
films with me.
The
real test is coming now. The official release of the film is upon us and
I’m pretty sure I’ll be castigated by critics. The
critics here were very displeased with Sirwiñakuy, Amy’s movie, they
simply didn’t know what to do with it, and I’m sure these same critics
will abhor Martyr.
You are currently working on a new film, Maleficarum. A few
words about that one?
Maleficarum
is a harder film to make and to show and to see. It
deals with torture in a very graphic, elaborate and uncensored way.
It takes place in the 1600’s, in an unnamed Andean city, and it
deals with the Inquisition as recorded in the archives in Lima, Peru.
I had access to hundreds of pages of testimonies and church
records. Based on that information I made up a story.
But the testimonies are real and all the characters in the movie
existed. In fact, the two protagonists are based on
real life characters.
The
two main characters suffer all the atrocities that the Inquisition
invented and some more. It’s a tough movie.
Like Martyr, Maleficarum
deals with the connections
between religion and violence. Your personal thoughts about this subject?
It is
my conviction that religion and violence are tied together since times
immemorial. One doesn’t exist without the other.
There’s no religion without violence and I think it’s a subject
that has always been in my mind.
I
believe that there are three basic ways in which we, humans, try to make
sense of the universe around us. One is religion,
another one is politics and the third one is Art.
Science,
on the other hand is how we finally make sense of things.
With
art we let our imagination fly and we interpret, express, understand,
predict, the universe, life, everything. We can invent
worlds, and Gods and sing praises. The bible is a big
book of poetry and children’s stories.
Religion
and politics, in the other hand, create dogmas and the need to impose the
ideas or beliefs we come up with in others, always with disastrous
results.
Most
of the work I’ve done so far has something to do with religion, politics
and violence, even an experimental work like CrossOver where you don’t
see people, just New York buildings, a shredded book and the New York
elevated subway; but the sense of dread and despair after 9/11 is present.
The attack to the WTC was religious as well as political.
Religion
and politics are two sides of the same coin. While in
religion there are higher beings we called gods, some nice, some truly
nasty, some schizophrenic, to me they are reflections of ourselves and our
varied moods. In politics we enthrone some humans that
we feel are like us but still superior in some ways because we expect them
to be like gods, to know it all, to solve it all and if we catch their
weakness we nail them up.
But
we’re willing to kill for those gods, either the religious or the
political ones. We believe we’re fighting for high
ideals or faith, but we’re actually fighting for the illusions we create
because of our fears.
Martyr goes into what can make one to want to be a martyr for God, while
Maleficarum goes into how a ruling institution brings hell to someone in
the name of God.
Maleficarum |
Judging from the stills alone, Maleficarum
somehow reminds me
of the European nunsploitation films from the 1970's. Is that a comment
you can at all live with, and where are the similarities, where the
differences?
I can
live with that. Maleficarum could be considered
exploitative in many ways, but not necessarily nunsploitation.
It’s already being compared to The Mark of the Devil just because
of the subject matter. The same can be said about Barbazul
and even Martyr.
While
in mainstream movies torture is handled with white gloves, showing a
little bit of the horror, maybe a few seconds, we go all the way with
these movies, more like what Jess Franco did/does in his explotation
movies but maybe with more finesse.
Maleficarum |
The
difference is that our scripts are more elaborate and less campy, or campy
in a different, more sophisticated way. I don’t know
if Jess Franco or Roger Corman [Roger
Corman bio - click here] intended to be as campy as they are.
We mean to be a bit campy, while at the same time create something
artistic and appealing in other ways.
The
obvious similarities are in the elements of the films: Inquisition,
torture, naked ladies, sex. The differences, more complex stories,
different technology, we can shoot a lot more nowadays, we can have better
effects, and we can work with a lot more comfort and for a target
audience.
We
don’t need as much money to do what we do, so we have a lot of freedom,
nobody is pulling the strings and all the risks are ours, and so are the
benefits.
Amy Hesketh in Maleficarum |
A few words about Maleficarum's leading lady (and your
frequent collaborator) Amy Hesketh [Amy
Hesketh interview - click here], and how did she respond to the
rather violent content of your film?
Amy
is a very talented, enourmously skilled, knowledgeable person.
She’s extremely dedicated as well. She was
involved in the thinking of Maleficarum from the very start.
I can say that this film is as much her creation as it is mine.
The violent content in the film is partly her responsibility. She
has a more perverted mind than mine.
When
I met her she was doing some photography with a guy. The
guy told me something like “oh the things she makes me do”.
That’s when I knew I had to know her more and I invited the guy
to go see my film at a festival in a nearby city, knowing that Amy would
go too. And she did and the rest is history.
But
this film would not be possible without her input and by input I mean hard
work. She made the costumes, all by herself, from
designing them, to cutting the fabrics, to stiching them together.
For 30 people!
But
that’s not all, she also built, yes built the big props, like the rack
and the Spanish Horse. She’s very handy with tools.
She can fix cars, build houses…
So,
if you want to know about her reaction to the violent nature of the film,
that’s it, she made it possible for it to be so violent.
You have also played the leads in Amy Hesketh's two films, Sirwiñakuy
and the upcoming Barbazul. What can you tell us about this reversal
of roles, and a few words about Amy Hesketh the director?
Before
working with Amy as an actor, I played lead roles in El Hombre de la
Luna (The man in the moon) and Martyr. Sirwiñakuy
was the first time I was directed by someone else.
It
was difficult not to meddle, not to try to direct the scene. I
was always, instinctively, trying to call the shots and I think I gave Amy
a hard time, especially the first day of shooting in Sirwiñakuy, before
she put her foot down.
A few
times I would just say “cut” when it wasn’t my call to do so.
It’s hard to be directed when you’re a director. It’s
also a bit threatening. When I play a role and I
direct, I tend to work a role that is close to me, where I don’t have to
do anything complicated or overly dramatic. I have an
easy time just being natural and I don’t have to prove myself to
anybody. I know what to expect from myself.
But
when directed by someone else you HAVE to live up to someone else’s
expectations, which is almost impossible for me to do.
I had
to go far beyond myself when working under Amy’s direction, to meet what
she demanded from me in Barbazul.
When
I see myself in El Hombre de la Luna, I like that guy, he’s cool,
witty, charming. In Barbazul I play a monster
and I truly dislike that guy, he gives me the creeps. So
I think she was successful in directing me. I don’t
think I can direct myself to be disliked. Maybe I
always try to put some redeeming qualities in the characters I play.
Not in Barbazul.
In Barbazul
I stayed away from the set as much as I could. I was on the set only
when it was my turn to act and for the first time in my acting career I
was not doing anything but act. It was good. I could
concentrate on the character, a really difficult part. I’m a
killer with no remorse and it had to show. I think I managed to
bring that character out of me and Amy had the talent and patience to make
it work. In Barbazul I have a nude scene. That was tough.
As a
director Amy knows what she wants and she’s also willing to listen to
suggestions. So it’s nice to work with her or under
her (direction). She can ask from actors and actresses
things I probably would not ask. The fact that she’s
a woman makes those things she wants to put on the screen more digestable.
If I
asked the same from an actress, she would give me a dirty look.
And I ask for a lot of hard things from actors, but not like what
Amy asked from Veronica and I to do in Barbazul. And
we did it. I cringe when I see it. I’m
editing that film and it’s hard to see myself in it doing those things
to Veronica.
What can you tell us about Jac Avila, the actor?
I don’t consider myself
a great actor but I think I have plenty of room to grow. I
played roles that I found easy to play before Barbazul.
I think I can go farther now and that’s what I’m going to do in
the next two movies I’ll be acting in. I’ll play
two totally different characters with higher archs and in situations that
are more demanding, and not very symphatetic characters either.
How did you get into filmmaking the first place?
Filmmaking
is what I always wanted to do. I don’t remember a
time when I didn’t want to do this. When I was a
teenager I loved playing the drums, in a few bands, all the while dreaming
about making movies.
When
I was a kid I put on shows for my friends, with puppets sometimes and with
movie clips at other times.
I
would go to the cinema house in my neighborhood, and search in their trash
for the cut pieces from the films they were showing. I made up some weird
stories with those frames.
I
learned how to make a projector out of a shoe box using a lens from a
photo enlarger, a 150 watts bulb and voila, I had a projector.
I would then make something similar to a slide show with the images
I grabbed from the trash.
At
other times I would stage plays in my livingroom with my cousins and
siblings, one of them was The Importance of Being Earnest.
We were awful, but we had fun.
That
was my beginning.
What can you tell us about your native Bolivia as a filmmaking
nation?
It is
not a filmmaking nation. In fact it is only in the last
few years that a lot of filmmakers started to produce films. Before
this time, you could count with your fingers all the Bolivian films in its
history.
But
the country has amazing locations with easy access, enthusiastic actors
and talented crews, but still, there’s a long way to go. However
the cost of living here is not too high as in other countries - we can
stretch our dollars.
I
lived in New York for over 35 years so my Bolivian peers do not consider
me a Bolivian filmmaker. They have a hard time accepting that.
In their view I’m a filmmaker that worked outside of Bolivia for
far too long.
I
finished high school in NY, went to college and began my work in
commercial photography, with a brief stint in CBS in the late 70’s. So I
think I have more of a New Yorker in me than anything else. My
father is Dutch so as I was growing up I was considered a gringo in
Bolivia. It did something to my psyche. I
feel at home in NY, anywhere else I feel like a foreigner, whether I’m
in Paris, Amsterdam or La Paz.
As far as I know, you started out making experimental films. What
can you tell us about your early efforts?
Actually
I made a few experimental films later in my career and not too many.
I collaborated in a couple of films with my neighbor and friend
Tadeusz Myslowsky, a polish New Yorker, big in the avant garde world of
art, I plan to do others with him. We collaborated in the short CrossOver,
which is part of the permanent collection of a museum in Warsaw.
That film was screened in the US and Europe a lot.
I
also collaborated with Uri Katzestein in a short film: The Word
is Vroom Vroom, which was shot in a loft in New York
and it has a music score by Brian Eno. Uri is
from Israel but has been living in New York for some time.
You have also made quite a number of documentaries, the most
well-known probably being Krik? Krak! Tales of a Nightmare. A few
words about that aspect of your career?
Krik?
Krak! Was my first film. It took years to make and
it’s a collaboration between Vanyoska Gee and I. It
was shot in Haiti during the times of Baby Doc but it was finished in
1988. It was a very hard film to make because of the
lack of funds and because of the subject. It was filmed
in 16mm, the lab costs were very high and to edit we needed editing tables
and all that. Costly.
But
when it was done, it changed our lives, literally. Mine
certainly.
Krik?
Krak! was very successful in the festival circuit and sold to TV
in the US, England and Germany. It also gave me a
big push in the biz. But we never really recovered the
money or the time we spent doing it. It was a labor of
love, mostly, and it took me around the world and transformed my life.
Because of this film I have the life I have now, so I think it is
the best thing that happened to me in terms of my career but it took too
long, it demanded a lot but it made me tougher.
Krik?
Krak! also deals with religion, politics and violence.
The central theme is Papa Doc’s rise to power in this most poor
country, manipulating religion to serve his purposes. In
this case the Voodoo religion that is central to Haiti. He
positioned himself as a deity, Baron Samedi, keeper of the graves.
For Haitians he had power over the dead and the living.
He was supported by the US for some time, Kennedy withdrew his
support but Johnson backed him again after Kennedy was assasinated.
In Krik?
Krak! you have all the religion, politics and violence that was
part of Haiti in all of its history.
I
think when you work on a film like Krik? Krak! you learn
a lot. That’s where I learned everything about being
an independent filmmaker. The sacrifices one has to
make. The struggle of high expectations against cold reality. How
the world of financing an independent movie works and how it doesn’t.
Everything. And I mean everything. It
was better than any college or university. I had a very exciting time
making it, and more exciting time taking it around the world. But
the best part of making that film is that I forged a style that is present
now and it’s very much my own.
What can you tell us about your miniseries El Hombre de la Luna?
El Hombre de la Luna was a compromise that turned into something more.
It’s my first work in Bolivia, other than a quick documentary I
made in ’89. I came to Bolivia with the intention of
making a very ambitious feature that was never made.
To
make that feature I was looking for actors, but after seeing a couple of
Bolivian movies made back then I felt that there weren’t enough well
trained actors for my movie.
So, I
decided to give acting lessons. I got the Mayor of La
Paz to sponsor my acting workshops and I had a lot of people interested in
enrolling. I had four different groups of about 20
people each.
So,
for about a year I trained dozens of people of all ages in the thespian
arts.
Since
I wasn’t getting the funds for the major motion picture I wanted to
make, I decided to do something else with my students, to test their new
learned skills.
I was
inspired by the work of David Lynch for TV… yes, Twin Peaks, so I
felt that I should go that way, that I should shoot a strange mini series.
I wrote the script and gave a role to almost everyone that
participated in the workshops. In fact, it was
everybody’s first acting experience in front of cameras, including mine.
I
think I managed to raise around 3,000 dollars, from relatives, mostly, I
borrowed a 3/4 inch Sony camera and bought a couple of patio lights of 500
watts each, and with that I shot the miniseries in about 56 days spaced
over 5 months. The cash went to cover the tapes, 20
dollars for each 20 minute tape. I managed to get a
taxi company to sponsor us so we had free transportation. We
also had a free hair stylist.
It
took almost a year to find a place to edit it.
When
the miniseries was finally done, surprise of surprises, it was well
received by the audience and I got a lot of press. It
looked very good, the acting was great, the photography was very nice, the
music amazing. We made the cover of the TV guide of a
major newspaper each weekend while we were on the air. We
gave tons of interviews and received a lot of press and it launched the
careers of a few of my newly trained actors. One of
them is a filmmaker now, another went on to be in many films, and not to
mention Carmen, the star of Martyr.
We’re
going to release the miniseries as a two hour film this year. The
new technologies make it possible to make a really cool film with the
story and the footage I have.
El Hombre de la Luna was also shown on a commercial cable TV station in
New York.
Any other films you have made you want to talk about, any future
projects?
I
produced and did the cinematography for Nocturnia, my son’s first
film. A very good movie, also shot in New York.
He’s writing another script we’re planning to produce this
year. Amy is writing another script in which I also
have a lead role and Veronica, of Sirwiñakuy
fame, will play my
wife. It’s set in the forties. And
I’m preparing to shoot another feature as well. And
that’s just for this year. I’m hoping that I will
finally make the movie that I wanted to make since 1984, the one I wanted
Carmen to take the lead role for.
I
have a few scripts in mind and I’ll see what the future brings.
But at this very moment, I’m just extremely happy that we have
the films we have in the can.
We’re
working like a mini studio, with in-house directors, three of them,
in-house editors, cinematographers and even exclusive actors… kind of
cool… and the best part is that we all get paid. Not
a lot, mind you, but not awful either.
What made you go from experimental filmmaking to documentaries and
finally to feature films, and which do you prefer to make?
I
started with Krik? Krak!, which is not a traditional
documentary. It doesn’t have a narrator in the
traditional sense. It doesn’t have talking heads or a
very linear, facts-filled, narrative.
It’s
a more impressionistic, almost surreal work. That’s
why it was successful where other documentaries can’t be.
I
have some recreations of historical events in it so there was no big jump
to fiction in my career. My training and passion is in
fiction. I worked in other documentaries but they all
have a non-traditional narrative and the experimental work has a narrative
as well.
In
fact, there’s something experimental in the documentaries and in the
features. I play with the images, the sounds in ways
that cross the line between genres.
There’s
one thing I remember from my days of being a film student. One
profesor once said that there’s no such things as non-fiction.
The moment you decide what to show in a movie, even if it’s a
documentary, you are making fiction; you are controlling what you say and
how you want to say it. And I believe that, that’s my
experience. In Krik? Krak! I take
pieces of reality to create a narrative, to create characters, to tell a
story and to manipulate the audience into feeling something for what they
see. Very much like what a painter does. Does
a painter make a true portrait of reality? No. The
artist creates a work of art, an expression of that reality, an
interpretation of that reality.
What can you tell us about your production company Pachamama
Films?
I
formed it with Henriette Szabo, whom I met in Hungary, and who worked with
me in many of the documentaries and in El Hombre de la Luna.
I formed it when I broke away from Mountain Top Films, the
production organization I worked with for Krik? Krak! and
other films. I named it Pachamama Films taking
the title of the film I was intending to produce: Pachamama.
It means Mother Earth in Aymara.
I
never made that film, I might make it one day, but changing the script a
lot because now it’s passé.
I was
about to sign a contract with a major TV station in Europe for that film.
The day I had an appointment to meet with the producer and legal
department to sign the contract, the 90's Gulf War started and all the
funds of the station were directed to cover the war. I
lost out.
Filmmakers who inspire you?
That’s a hard question
to answer because at different times I was inspired or taught by different
filmmakers. Some that come to mind are Jodorowski, Buñuel,
Antonioni, Bertolucci, Pasolini, Leone, Godard, Truffaut, Woody Allen,
Richard Lester, Roger Corman [Roger
Corman bio - click here] and even Jess Franco.
Your favourite movies?
Again, at different times
different movies. But I love The Life of
Brian, Love
and Death, … but I could make a long list of the films I love… lots of
French movies like Romance or
Jules and Jim, or Last Tango in Paris, or
Blow Up… lots.
... and of course, films you really deplored?
Really deplore? None.
I’m a sucker for movies. I might find some
films boring, or badly made, but even those films I
find interesting. I know what’s behind making a
movie; I know what those people went through to make it, so I appreciate
every film because of the effort. But then those films
that impact me, because they are so amazingly good… I appreciate them a
lot better. There are some films that just make me cry,
they are so good.
Your website, Facebook, whatever else?
- http://pachamamafilms.com
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/jac.avila
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Barbazul/140641005971307
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Maleficarum/107859912613669
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Martyr/143949412290279
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Sirwiñakuy/126412857375802
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/ video/video.php?v=1832034834465&oid=126412857375802&comments
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/ video/video.phpv=1809610233864&oid=143949412290279&comments
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/ video/video.php?v=1809610233864&oid=143949412290279&comments
- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UorXSU06wk
- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZmL2iJc1oc&feature=related
- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KlVPgZhDr8&feature=related
Anything else you are dying to mention I have merely forgotten to
ask?
I
consider myself very fortunate to be doing what I’m doing and even more
fortunate because of the people I’m doing it with. Making
movies… all of the movies I make, has become a way of life for me, not
just making a living. In fact it’s less about making
a living than living a life.
The
best part of this is that we’re independent, truly independent, which is
great when we want to make the films we want to make. The
audiences are the last word for us and the truth is that a lot of people
like what we do and a lot of people hate it, but no one is indifferent.
Thanks for the interview!
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