Asking for Money vs. Begging for Words

If the film grads want some censorship to complain about, they should have a look at this. I'd be 100% behind them on this account, were they raise it as an issue.

Begging for money to complete a film is not censorship. The ancient rule of Crown Copyright, however, comes close.

This piece is an excerpt from an article by Michael Geist:

Dating back to the 1700s, crown copyright reflects a centuries-old perspective that the government ought to control the public’s ability to use official documents. Today crown copyright extends for fifty years from creation and it requires anyone who wants to use or republish a government report, parliamentary hearing, or other work to first seek permission. While permission is often granted, it is not automatic.

The Canadian approach stands in sharp contrast to the situation in the U.S. where the federal government does not hold copyright over work created by an officer or employee as part of that person's official duties. Accordingly, government reports, court cases, and Congressional transcripts can be freely used and published.

The existence of crown copyright (or lack thereof) affects both the print and audio-visual worlds. For example, the 9-11 Commission’s report, released last year in the U.S., was widely available for free download, yet it also became a commercial success story as the book quickly hit the best seller list once offered for purchase by W.W. Norton, a well-regarded book publisher.

By comparison, a Canadian publisher seeking to release the forthcoming Gomery report as a commercial title would need permission from the government to do so. To obtain such permission, the publisher would be required to provide details on the intended use and format of the work, the precise website address if the work is to appear online, as well as the estimated number of hard copies if the work is to be reprinted. If the work is to be sold commercially, the publisher would be required to disclose the estimated selling price.

The difference between the Canadian and the U.S. approach is just as pronounced in the documentary film arena. Consider, for example, a Canadian creating a film about a controversial political issue such as same sex marriage or gun control. The filmmaker might want to include clips from politicians speaking to the issue in the House of Commons.

After obtaining the desired video from the House of Commons, the filmmaker would be presented with a series of legal terms and conditions limiting its use to school-based private study, research, criticism, or review as well as news reporting on television and radio outlets that are licensed by the CRTC. Everything else, including any commercial use of the video, would require the prior written approval from the Speaker of the House.

Shut Up and Roll Camera

Mark Steyn has jumped into the ring on the C-10 issue, but he missed the best lines. He's right in pointing out the foolishness of David Cronenberg's statement that cutting off funding for certain films is akin to "something they would do in Beijing."

What other somethings, Dave? Perhaps, say, holding the Olympic Opening Ceremonies?

Yet Cronenberg's real laugher of a line is this one: "You have a panel of people working behind closed doors who are not monitored and they form their own layer of censorship." He then added that Canadian filmmakers make films about dark, edgy places where most people don't want to go. If he's referring to Canadian art cinemas, he's spot on the money.

Let's be straight up about this: by the rules of the CanCon dysfunctional, David Cronenberg is not a Canadian filmmaker. He is a filmmaker that was born in Canada. He hasn't had a need for grant money in decades, and he no longer has a clue what it is like to be a low budget, artsy cameraman. His films have non-Canadian stars, and they do not concentrate on Canadian society. They are not remotely "Canadian." He may be a hero to the small-time Canadian film grads (who are trying to become rich and famous and live in LA), but he is certainly not a bona fide "Canadian filmmaker."

Now, before you start feverishly hitting the keys and telling me that A History of Violence was shot entirely in Ontario, Canada, hang on a minute. You're half right: Cronenberg shot the film in Millbrook, Ontario. Being a proud Canadian, I am sure he wanted to give the union guys some work. He is such a proud Canadian, the town is renamed Millbrook, Indiana, and the end of the film takes place in "Philadelphia."

Cronenberg's "behind closed doors" line is not only asinine, it's ignorant. He is not talking about the CHRC, which will be having a secret meeting at the end of the month in order to decide a Canadian citizen's fate. He is talking about lazy film students that can't draw an audience (which Cronenberg can, by using Toronto as a Philly-backdrop).

Listening to filmmakers whine about a lack of funding and then comparing it to the acts of a totalitarian regime is disgusting. For them to place themselves in the same shoes as people that are shot for political crimes is obscene.

In our own backyard we have a star chamber ruining the lives of Canadian citizens merely for speaking their minds. For years, these same citizens have been subsidizing film school summer projects. What thanks do they get? Not a word from the film grads, and not a peep from Cronenberg.

One last time: you want to make a movie? Then make the damn movie. No one's stopping you. That would be...censorship.

Will Make Movie For Food

I was goofing off on Facebook when I should have been doing some editing, and I ran across a new Facebook "group."

Groups are what happens on Facebook when a few people get their pants in twist about something, and before you know it some guy from New Zealand is one of 25, 987 people "Pledging to Stop Violence Against Rabbits in Manitoba," or whatever.

Anyway, the latest buzz in the Canadian film scene is Bill C-10. It's full of taxation mumbo jumbo, and somewhere in there is a provision stating that the government won't give tax credits to films and TV shows that it finds offensive, or not in the public interest.

Horrors! Every actor, writer, director and other frequent Starbucks regular instantly went nuclear. As usual, they went ballistic over the whole free speech deal, and are crying about censorship from Big Brother.

Yeah, right. Mark Steyn and Ezra Levant, writers both, were up on charges in front of Canadian Human Rights commissions for expressing their views. Where were the film grads then?

As if Canada were in the business of closing the mouths of whacked-out filmmakers. Every night on Canadian TV I see a new acid trip come over the airwaves. Poorly written, poorly shot, and delivered with a healthy dose of sanctimony: "We don't shoot our stuff like Americans. That would be so...American." In other words, Canadian filmmakers airing stuff in Canada make it look like crap on purpose. Who needs production value when you have a maple leaf on your backpack?

For the record, if the government were to end tax credits for garbage films, it is not censorship. Censorship is when the government sends a squad of thugs to your house and throws you in jail for making a film. When a government merely cuts the money supply on people that want to play Spielberg all day while showing Ed Wood ticket sales, it's called good business.

Earlier this year, I had my eye on a couple of grants and thought about applying for them. I wanted to make an independent film and thought that my corporate video background would give me a leg up: completed projects, money made, happy customers, so forth. I had the script set, actors ready, my own equipment. Just a little extra dough for some locations and better lighting gear would give me a green light.

Not a chance. The government has been "censoring" mainstream storytellers for decades. When I talked to the guy in Ottawa about my project, he told me my project "was not very viable," whatever that means. If I had a First Nations angle, or a multicultural story, or something "that is not mainstream, but can only be told through government assistance," then I'd be all right. "Genre films," were out. Also, a film school background would help, especially if the film was "experimental" in nature.

In other words, make something no one wants to see, and that doesn't have a hope in hell of making money.

So it was no go. Did I cry and moan and create a group on Facebook? Nah. I put the phone down and said to myself, "All right. Another four months and I'll be able to finance the lights on my own, then try and draw an investor, and make the damn movie. Maybe next year, if I have to."

Today's storytellers in Canada make me ill. I don't want to talk to a filmmaker that can't make his film without begging from the Feds. You want to make a movie? Then make the damn movie. You spend all your life whining and protesting to the government about every little gripe, and then get surprised when they ask you to put up the goods?

I also don't want to hear from anybody about "experimental filmmakers" needing assistance. No. They do not. They need to get a job, and get a life. Earn some money. Buy a camera, rent some gear, get costumes at Zellers, find some investors, go to Home Hardware and make your own dolly gear. Filmmaking equipment is so relatively cheap and good now, that there is no excuse for not doing it on your own when you have to. Twenty years ago, producing your own film would have been a hell of a task. Now, teenagers are doing it.

Need assistance? Hear you go: a dolly can be made with 1-inch plywood. Make it a 40" x 30" piece (sorry, don't know the metric on that). Take eight rollerblade wheels and bolt them into pairs. Place the four pairs on each corner of the birch board (birch is best). Bolt a stool to the board, and leave space for your tripod. Bolt a handle to the board, so a buddy can push it. Next, lay down two long stretches of 3/4" PVC pipe. Place your new dolly on the PVC pipe. Push.

That dolly just cost you $95.

What's the matter, chumps? Afraid you can't put up? Make your little movie so we all can see it, rather than have the taxpayers blow three hundred grand on a piece of junk that I won't see unless I stay up until 3am watching the Bravo network.

Last week I heard a morning DJ fawning over "I Met the Walrus," a short film about some Canadian guy who met John Lennon back in the day.

The short was up for an Oscar. A six-minute animated flick about a singer who died over thirty years ago.

This is the best Canada can show at the Academy Awards? I wonder why.