One-minute madness

by RAF KATIGBAK

There are three things you need to know before you get hit with fireworks. The first thing is that it doesn’t hurt. The second thing is that you probably want to be wearing something protective anyway (I suggest a thick leather jacket and motorcycle helmet—it keeps you from catching fire and also looks awesome). The third and final thing is that, even if these baby flares are neither hot enough nor flying at a sufficient velocity to cause any damage AND you’re standing there with a full face shield designed to absorb more than 400 G-Force units from a fall of 10 feet, watching fiery balls approach your head at a surprisingly vicious speed is still pretty fucking scary.

MONEY SHOT: “Japanese rockabilly” as target

That’s the situation I found myself in a couple of weeks ago at around 2 a.m. on a dark deserted street in the Old Port. We were shooting the final scene in a one-minute movie, I was the cartoon-ish Japanese rockabilly being attacked by an evil witch who wants to claim the title of “Baddest of Them All”—y’know, the classic story. It was me on one end and L. the evil witch on the other. Between us, the cameraman P. was wisely keeping his distance. After having spent an hour wandering lost in the Old Port, we had finally found the perfect location for this crucial scene. This was our million-dollar shot (actual cost: $3 plus tax), and we didn’t want to fuck it up. Partially because finding fireworks in metro Montreal isn’t easy, but mostly because we were working under a strict deadline for the M60 film fest.

The M60 (The Montreal 60-Second Film Fest) is the brainchild of Montrealers Toby Harper, Doug Hollingworth, Lily Lanken, Sylvan Lanken and Sean Michaels. “The idea came from us just sitting around one day thinking how it would be great to have a film completely comprised of one-minute films,” says Hollingworth over the phone. “Then we thought, this would actually work great as a film festival.” According to Hollingworth, one of the mandates for the M60 is accessibility. “M60 is for filmmakers and people who always wanted to make films but never had a chance. Unlike other festivals, there’s no entry fee, no jury, no prizes, and no one is doing it to get a distribution deal. It’s just for the fun of it. It’s a community thing.”

Luckily, the response was tremendous. M60 had twice as many sign-ups as they expected and in all they received 76 one-minute films, including entries from Oscar-winning animator John Weldon, musician Anna McGarrigle and director Robert Ditchburn.

Knowing what prestigious entries they received didn’t help us that night. If we didn’t nail this big pyro-ridden shot, they wouldn’t get ours, and this insane daylong shoot would all be for nothing. We were already pretty exhausted. We were all nervous. We looked at the tubes’ instructions to make sure it was safe: For outdoor use only. Check. For use by adults. Check. Well, sort of. Spectators must be at a distance of 30 metres. Do Not Hold in Hand. Uh-oh.

But it was too late, we had come too far, the film was due the next day and we still had to edit the damn thing. There was no turning back. I put my helmet on, zipped up the jacket and stood uncomfortably 10 feet away. L. paused, raised the makeshift wand and lit the fuse. Then, just as the first fireball popped out of the tube and hissed towards me, something strange happened. I knew how important the shot was, and how well I was protected, but I pussied out. Not only did I flinch, I ducked, I dodged, I pulled insane Matrix-like moves to avoid them.

“Hold still!” yelled P. “You need to take a hit!” But it was too late. After the 10 red and green comets had been spent, the staff fizzled out. We only had one tube left. I had only one more chance to do it. I steadied myself. Did I have the guts? Was I ready to receive the barrage of flaming comets?

Find out September 24 and 25 at the Sala Rossa when the M60 holds its Screening Party… (check M60.ca for details).

Riff-Raff@sympatico.ca