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Because I was experiencing ageism in the industry, I rounded up my friends and family and made a relatively high quality feature drama for no-budget ($35,000 out of pocket mostly for food).  This film was made by volunteers. I consider it a creative co-production because the cinematographer-editor and the associate producer are from Australia.

  On the surface it appears to be about the reversal of the family\'s fortunes when the father dies, but beneath the coping with a move from the privilege of Malibu to the hard-scrabble farm in Northern California, there lurks the question of suicide.  In particular, the mother is gripped by the fear of the hereditary effects of suicide. That fear informs her need to protect her teenage daughter from the disappointment inherent in chasing her dream of being an actor. Their relationship is eroded further by the mom\'s inability to discuss even the possibility of the father\'s suicide.  Add the friction with her late husband\'s brother, and concern about her young son and you have a woman desperately trying to hold things together.

  The title refers to the difficulty of changing ones course when so much has been invested in it - even though that path may be to the person\'s detriment.  It is the story of creating a new life from pieces of ones past.  It was a marvelous adventure that could have derailed at any point were it not for the sticky glue of community.

 

After I had a draft of the screenplay and was beginning to pull together the production team and the actors, I began to get cold feet.  I had cleaned out my facelift fund and my husband and I were dipping into our emergency fund... well, actually more like cleaning out our emergency fund.  I was starting to realize what a huge endeavor I was facing.  I happened to read an interview with Walter Mosley (whose work I love) and while he was discussing contexts, he said: "The idea is to stop griping about lack of access, of not being invited to the table."  He goes on to say that we should get our own tables and invite people to them.  "If you\'re not invited, that\'s one thing.  But if you don\'t come to the table anyway?  Well, that\'s your fault."  It was just the talking to that I needed.  Thanks, Walter. 

  I\'m primarily a writer and often find myself writing about women on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  I\'m endlessly fascinated by people on or near the edge, particularly those who appear to be coping, but who are a step away from disaster.  I think we\'re sold a bill of goods about happiness as children and that we can be thrown for a loop when we perceive that life is dumping on us.  Sadness and loss are streets in all of our lives, just blocks away from love and joy.  I think that when kids learn this landscape early, by talking about it, they become more resilient adults. 

     I believe that communicating -- sharing our sorrows, as well as our joys -- is a way we might  keep from being propelled by the uniform motion of folly.

 

A Couple of Antic - dotes


  Because the bulk of the film was shot in our co-producer\'s back yard and small house, we were very eager to open up the film by getting shots of Northern California where it\'s ostensibly set. Our DP is a full time news camera man so we were at the mercy of domestic and world events. After numerous attempts, he, the exec-prod and I jumped in the car and began filming up the California highway toward Point Reyes Station. We were about half-way up the state when the DP\'s boss called to say that he needed to go to Miami to cover a hurricane. Our DP continued to our location with us, shot some vistas in an hour and dashed back to the San Francisco airport in time to make his assignment in Miami.

 

 

We were rapidly approaching the only 10 day stretch of days in which we could shoot before we lost the kids to school and Trent, the Australian news cameraman-Director of Photography, to the next world disaster, and we still didn\'t have a pond for one of the movie\'s key scenes.  We had scouted for days.  It\'s alarming the number of bodies of water in Southern California that humans can\'t set foot into because of the possibility of disease.  Luckily, Co-producer, Charlene, had a marvelous friend, Virginia, who knew someone who had a non-polluted pond.  Our pond owner/savior had only one requirement: insurance in case anything went wrong.  We started calling every industry insurer in America but no one would insure us for just a day and the weekly rate was 50% of our shooting budget at that time.  An iron-clad hold-harmless contract to the rescue.  Charlene came back to me with the document that our savior had approved and said: put your Jeanne C. Davis right next to his (not his real name) Alfredo Fettuccini.  After a bad reading of "What?", I said, he was at our wedding.  It turns out Alfredo is the brother-in-law of one of my husband\'s dearest friends.  Go figure.

 

Jeanne C. Davis

 

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