Flick chick

>> Sylvia Wilson, sweetheart of the Main

By ALEX TIGCHELAAR

The Bifteck, it would seem, is a magical place for redheads. First, patron Melissa Auf der Maur makes the musical majors. And now Sylvia Wilson, another carrot-topped regular, is poised on the brink of Big Stuff. Must be all that Boréale Rousse.

Wilson admits only somewhat facetiously (she did study Communications at Concordia) that her saga started out at the famous St-Laurent drinking lair. Out with a friend five years ago, she met Albert Nerenberg, who persuaded her to come and work on the Secret City humour section of Hour magazine. Wilson began a professional union with Nerenberg, which included co-ordinating production on his documentary Climate for Murder.

She had no idea what the work would entail--and it turned out to be lots--but her willingness to admit that she wasn't an instant expert endeared her to those who were. Working on Climate, and then subsequently being hired by Galafilm (the company that produced it), gave Wilson a good start. She learned one of the fundamental lessons of film production: the unpredictable schedule changes and how not to freak out about them. Wilson did well at Galafilm. Hardworking, she began associate-producing, line-producing and doing post-production on documentaries.

However, a couple of years ago, friends and writers Matt Bissonnette and Steven Clark approached her with a feature-length film script tentatively titled Sweethearts of the World. They didn't say straight out that they wanted her to produce it, but they were looking for help. The idea of working with people her own age and the engaging script, which Wilson calls an "urban Western," intrigued her.

"It sounded like heart and soul work," she says. She quit her reliable job and decided to work on something for which she, and the trio's production company, Frustrated Films, would be entirely responsible.

"None of us knew what to expect," Wilson says, after listing a series of procedures that would terrify a lot of young artists: bank accounts, incorporating, spending their own money, applying for development money, not getting a distribution deal, counting dimes to catch the metro.

Wilson is quick to acknowledge the generosity of the amazing talent enlisted for the film, including Boneyard Productions (responsible for Kissed), who signed on to executive produce.

When asked if she would ever make a film from scratch again, she says quite frankly, "I can't." Too stressful? "No, I've used up every favour in this town." With shooting done, Wilson and "the boys," as she calls her fellow Frustrated, are looking to premiere the Montreal-shot film at next year's Toronto Film Festival.