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I came to Maysles Films in the early 1970's—fresh out of college—and I never left. So I guess you could say that, professionally, I'm a child of cinéma vérité, and I continue to live for the vérité style and to be challenged by it regularly. At Maysles, we approach vérité films in ways that are more literary than journalistic. We seek out real-life stories that will unfold dramatically on screen and, like good literature, reveal deeper truths about the human condition. Finding those subjects is tough, however, and having the resources to follow them for months and even years is rare. And so I
Dear IDA Members: My original “Notes from the Reel World” for this October issue addressed the many documentary-related events happening this month in Los Angeles—DOCtober, IDA’s documentary film festival at the Laemmle Monica FourPlex—and New York—HBO’s Frame-by-Frame, in collaboration with IDA—and around the world. But the world is a much more sobering place now—one of unease, deep sorrow, anger and profound loss. September 11, like December 7 and November 22, will forever more be a touchstone in our lives. And where does documentary film and documentary filmmaking fit in the wake of this
Dear Readers, No sooner had we gone to press—on September 11, 2001—when we witnessed a calamity of unspeakable horror and cruelty. By now we have all processed the kaleidoscope of images—the plane hurtling headlong into the tower…people leaping to their deaths…the collapses, 30 minutes apart, of two icons of the Manhattan skyline…the roaring shroud of smoke and soot and ash and concrete and glass and wiring and plumbing…the mad rush of escapees up Broadway…the blizzard of faxes and memos over lower Manhattan…the smoldering wreck of the Pentagon…the wall of prayers…the smiling faces of the
The natural history genre occupies a niche that is located somewhere between the nonfiction (reportage) genre and the dramatic (storytelling) genre. While the typical documentarian earnestly pursues the grail of objectivity, nature producers are noted for their unabashed embrace of myth and metaphor and for their willingness to massage the known facts of nature in order to relay uplifting moral lessons to their audiences. These tendencies naturally arouse the suspicion, if not the righteous indignation, of the nonfiction filmmaking community and, in response, the nature genre has spawned its
It was a familiar scene. The teacher would thread the projector, hit the switch and dim the lights. A flickering image of a dung beetle or herd of wildebeests would appear on a rickety old screen, as the voice-of-God narrator explained it all in a somber and dispassionate tone. Within minutes a host of little heads would hit their desks. It’s clear to me now that all those teachers wanted was a little peace and quiet; those early natural history films were guaranteed to knock out a gaggle of unruly viewers. Natural history and wildlife programming has come a long way. Instead of putting people
For the dissident audience the mission of the environmental documentary is to corrode the mantra of “development equals progress, jobs, and a strong economy.” For an apathetic audience, the mission is to open a wedge in the indifference. For younger audiences the mission is to educate and recruit a new generation to activism. For sympathetic audiences the mission is to inspire and energize the troops. This is the complex, persuasive task The Last Stand attempts in telling the knotty story of the Ballona Wetlands and the proposed Playa Vista development. Though the film includes voices
Allow me to introduce you to the new Executive Director of the International Documentary Association. She is a high-energy, creative, capable executive with miles of experience and tons of contacts. Her name is Sandra Ruch. Sandra worked for over a decade with PBS on the programming and promotion of Masterpiece Theatre and Mystery!. Her daily involvement with these programs allowed her to interact with filmmakers, producers, broadcasters and station programmers. She also helped produce Pride of Place, a 12-part documentary on American architecture for PBS. As President of Marketing for New
To be the guest of a festival and watch one’s documentary on a screen is a dream and a privilege, but traveling to Durango Film Festival 2001 in Colorado became more of a nightmare. Caught in a snowstorm in Denver and re-routed to Farmington, New Mexico, and finally arrived at my destination some 14 hours after leaving LA. I immediately promised myself this would be the last festival I would attend—until it concluded some nine days later. Nearly 200 miles from the nearest interstate, at 6,500 feet in elevation, the town of Durango was a Shangri-La, a cultural melting pot of some 15,000 old
Fall has arrived. The kids are back in school. And all good fans of the documentary art form have an opportunity to see some of the best documentaries of the year during IDA's fifth annual DOCtober™. DOCtober™ is a festival dedicated exclusively to documentary films. No fictional features need apply. About 15 films will be shown once a day for a week at the end of October. Both feature-length and short documentaries will be shown. During the first four DOCtobers™, 42 films qualified for Oscar® consideration. Of those, eight were nominated, and two won. You will not be disappointed. During the
Dear Readers, Welcome to nature, or the world of nature and wildlife documentaries, a genre that has seen a surge in popularity on the international distribution circuit over the past several years. This issue affords you a glimpse at the perspectives of programmers and practitioners alike. Barry Clark, one of the more respected authorities on nature filmmaking, offers his insights into the state of the genre—where it is now and where it can and ought to go. Michael Rose talks to executives at three of the leading programmers of natural history docs—National Geographic, Discovery Channel and