Last summer I started work on my first feature film, Checkout. It told the story of a man stuck in an old hotel on the outskirts of Istanbul, without the possibility of leaving. One year later I found myself stuck in an old hotel on the outskirts of Istanbul, without the possibility of leaving.
Vatche Boulghourjian’s debut feature Tramontane made its world premiere in Critics’ Week at Cannes on Tuesday. The film, about a blind man on the trail of his origins in post-war Lebanon, took four years to make. The following is a chronological account on the making of Tramontane, told from writer/director Vatche Boulghourjian’s and producer Caroline Oliveira’s points of view.
For some reason, staring at the lamp on my desk doesn’t always get me jazzed for a long night of writing. Despite the pleasing geometry of its triangular IKEA frame, it’s always been a rather underwhelming view. It’s a sad reality here in Brooklyn that home offices are crammed with a clutter of things that didn’t make the grade for the rest of your apartment: futons, art that wasn’t quite nice enough to put up in your living room, a corner full of guitars, and a bookshelf that you just gave up on and started stuffing books into horizontally.
Sundance Institute is seeking applicants for the YouTube New Voices Lab set to take place November 10-12, 2016, at YouTube Space Los Angeles. The Lab is designed to support a group of 10 creators, developing scripted short-form episodic content for digital platforms (up to 25 minutes in length per episode). Click here to apply.
An unseasonably windy morning blows in Charlotte as an eclectic group of filmmakers enter the Bechtler Modern Art Museum. With a registration list cut off at 375, the Wells Fargo Auditorium inside the Bechtler fills up, and there are folks who have come hoping to fill a vacant seat. Filmmakers are networking prior to the start of the program, greeting each other with hugs and handshakes.
“My hand hurts” doesn’t apply here at the Sundance Institute Screenwriters Intensive two-day workshop in Los Angeles—specifically Joan Tewkesbury’s screenwriting workshop “Designed Obstacles, Spontaneous Response.” I came to the sad reality that I hadn’t used pen and paper in close to six months, including signing my own name, which is all done electronically now—I type or text everything. This workshop was not about technology or form; it was about detaching from all of it in search for the deepest meaning of ourselves.
We have extended our deadline and are still accepting nominations for our Documentary Creative Producing Lab! The new deadline is Monday, March 21. If you know a talented producer not yet supported by Sundance Institute, we want to hear from you. ABOUT THE LAB AND FELLOWSHIP We will select five fellows to join us for a five-day intensive at the Sundance Resort in Utah.
“I just hope we get to meet Ro-Ro,” Lyle Friedman, my writing partner, sleepily whispered on the van ride from Salt Lake City’s airport to the Sundance Resort. Ro-Ro, of course, being her pet name for beloved film icon/perfect person, Robert Redford. I, too, deeply wished that I would at least get to see him once in real life so I’d have something to immediately brag about on Facebook.
In my short career as a co-writer of pilot scripts, I have struggled to explain the importance of “not-writing” to the writing process. Especially to my writing partner and husband, Matt Berninger. He is somehow always writing when he writes, by which I mean (and he does too), typing out scenes.
Arriving at the Sundance Institute Documentary Edit & Story Lab as an advisor on my first day, fellow advisor and editor Kate Amend greeted me with a hearty, “Welcome to paradise.” She said it in a way that seemed to reference more than just the beautiful surroundings. I didn’t know exactly what she was alluding to, but I had heard this kind of thing many times before.
Amidst the dramatic drops and amber foliage of Utah’s natural offerings, the Sundance mountain stands proud, a modern day Mount Olympus where good things happen. It is here that the muses of contemporary storytelling orchestrate a transformative experience. Advisors, staff and peers—one more brilliant, generous and different than the other—are at your humble disposal over the course of those five days, both in mind and in space.
What is the future of story?” Kamal Sinclair, co-director of Sundance Institute’s New Frontier Story Lab, asks in her welcoming remarks. I came to the New Frontier Day Lab at the Allied Media Conference this year because I have this same question. What does my future as a filmmaker look like and how is the art of storytelling expanding and the technical craft changing?
Just like the cinematic leaps we’ve taken from black-and-white to color, to sound to film to digital and beyond, is the “communication architecture” in which we tell our stories about to take another leap that I need to prepare myself for? Artists are projecting moving images onto people’s retinas these days, and I’m still trying to figure out my 90-minute, three-act structured drama/comedy with sharpies, note cards, and double-sided tape on a big empty wall.