Personal

Shorts That Are Not Pants

I know things have been pretty quiet around here since my big philo­soph­ical post last month. And while I’m still exper­i­en­cing writer’s block when it comes to reviewing indi­vidual films, I haven’t been sit­ting around feeling sorry for myself. In fact, I’m busier than ever. In addi­tion to coordin­ating the second edi­tion of the CAST Awards (look for an announce­ment early in the new year), I’ve decided to take my long-gestating idea for a shorts screening public.

I’ve always enjoyed short films, but seeing them out­side of fest­ivals has never been easy. In fact, even at fest­ivals, they’re usu­ally bundled together in unprom­ising sounding pack­ages like “Canadian Shorts 1″ or “Programme 6.” And the problem at the spec­tac­ular Worldwide Short Film Festival, where they group the films them­at­ic­ally, is just over­load. I’ve always wanted to curate a reg­ular pro­gram of films that would be some­thing like a mix­tape, and in 2009, I started doing it on a small scale.

I’d been a huge fan of Wholphin, a DVD “magazine” of short films from the people behind McSweeney’s, ever since the first one came out in 2005. By 2009, I was still amazed that hardly anyone I knew had heard of it, so I decided to screen a selec­tion of films for a small group of friends at my apart­ment. It was a hit, and not only because of the cup­cakes my wife thought­fully provided. After run­ning a few more of these nights, I wanted to share my enthu­siasm and some great films with the rest of the city. Starting last winter, I began researching venues and licensing fees and pos­sible part­ners, and I’m very happy to announce that we’re finally launching!

On January 13, 2012, at 7pm, Shorts That Are Not Pants will screen our inaug­ural pro­gram of inter­na­tional and Canadian shorts at the NFB Mediatheque (150 John St. at Richmond). I’ll refer you to the site for more details, but I sin­cerely hope you’ll join us at the start of this new adventure.

My plan is to make this a quarterly event, and we hope to be working with a variety of part­ners. For the first screening, we’re showing the entirety of the Future Shorts Pop Up Festival lineup, as well as a couple of won­derful anim­ated Canadian shorts from the National Film Board. But I’m excited by the fact that there is such a wealth of great material out there that has either never been screened before in Toronto, or was buried amongst hun­dreds of other films at fest­ivals. I’m looking for­ward to dis­cov­ering and sharing films with you, live and on the big screen. Hopefully we’ll even get a group together after the screen­ings to dis­cuss the films over a drink. Short films are worthy of your atten­tion, and I hope to demon­strate that to a larger audi­ence than just the dozen I’ve been cram­ming into my apart­ment. I hope you’ll join us!

You can buy tickets for just $8 in advance. At the door, tickets will be $10, or $5 if you’re crazy enough to show up in shorts. Even if you can’t make it and want to sup­port the series, buy a ticket and just let me know that’s your inten­tion. Of course, men­tioning us on Twitter (follow us here), Facebook (we have a page) or any­where else online or off would be helpful, too. I’m cer­tainly not hoping to make money on this, but it would be great if I didn’t lose too much. :)

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Back in January, 2011 was looking to be a very good year indeed. I had just fin­ished com­piling the votes for the inaug­ural CAST Awards and was pleased with the level of participation.

In March, I was flattered to be included on a panel on online film cri­ti­cism among such exalted com­pany as long­time film critics Adam Nayman and Jason Anderson and film­maker Margaux Williamson. You can listen to us bat the sub­ject around for almost two hours, if you like.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (ver­sion 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest ver­sion here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Duration: 1:46:47
Download MP3 (128MB)

In May, I was con­tacted to talk about Toronto Screen Shots for a blog­ging con­fer­ence and the result is the video you can see above.

My con­fid­ence was rising, which helped because, also in May, I quit a very luc­rative job. It was the first time I’d ever left a job with nothing else lined up already. Maybe I thought the film busi­ness was waiting to wel­come me with open arms.

It wasn’t.

In the midst of a very tough job search, I was at least for­tu­nate enough to be able to attend a number of press screen­ings, and enjoyed the deep­ening camaraderie with a number of col­leagues, people writing about film on both a paid and unpaid basis. It was at this point when I prob­ably should have hustled a bit more.

Blowing My Own Horn

Personal aside: I’ve never been par­tic­u­larly good at “tooting my own horn.” I sup­pose this could be par­tially respons­ible for my zig-zagging career tra­jectory. I’ve been happy to be a jack-of-all-trades gen­er­alist in the belief that it makes me a more “inter­esting” person. So while I believe I’m pretty good at most everything I try, I’m not con­fident enough to scream, “hey, look at me! I’m awesome!”

I began to notice a few of my blog­ging friends picking up paid writing gigs, and privately I was a bit envious. But instead of asking them how they did it, I con­tinued to sit back and wait for others to come to me. When they didn’t, I reasoned that maybe I just wasn’t good enough, or that I really didn’t want it enough.

I do think both those things are true, by the way. Not that that can’t change.

The web is a won­derful thing, and I’ve been for­tu­nate to have been riding the wave of internet pub­lishing (“blog­ging”) since pretty close to the begin­ning. But I’ve increas­ingly felt out of sorts with the way the Internet has enabled the most obsessive among us to suc­ceed. Remember, I’m a gen­er­alist. Even among some of my dearest film blogger friends, many of whom are a gen­er­a­tion younger than me, I feel at once less ser­ious about film and yet more con­nected to the rest of the world. I feel inferior and superior at the same time.

So I began trying to figure out what I wanted Toronto Screen Shots to be. I knew from the very begin­ning that I didn’t want it to be a “movie news” site, trying to break stories about the casting or budget of the latest block­busters. I prefer to focus on reviews. But even keeping up with the new releases each year, whether the­at­ric­ally or on DVD, has become next to impossible for me.

Media Firehose

It could be simply my age catching up to me, or maybe the pace of life really has accel­er­ated, but I find myself unable to keep drinking from the fire­hose of media, espe­cially when so many other out­lets are doing a fine job of it already.

My aims for begin­ning this site were pretty straight­for­ward: I wanted to become a more know­ledge­able cinephile, and a better writer about film. I also wanted to share films that needed more exposure with an audi­ence, how­ever big or small. I’ve tried to write more about doc­u­ment­aries, or for­eign films, or films that are not new.

I think I’ve gotten away from that over the past year or two, as the pro­file of film blogs has allowed more of us access to press screen­ings and DVD review copies. As the industry’s need to keep feeding us new product to sell over­whelmed my own need to deepen my appre­ci­ation for film, I think Toronto Screen Shots lost its way a little bit.

Another problem is that smaller film fest­ivals which used to realize a huge benefit from online cov­erage (Toronto After Dark, Reel Asian, Cinefranco, European Union Film Festival) no longer really depend on me the way I used to think they did. Out of loy­alty, I have kept trying to cover them, and this year in par­tic­ular, I feel that I failed.

Back in the summer when I was riding high, I applied for TIFF accred­it­a­tion for the very first time. When that didn’t come through (along with my rejec­tion for mem­ber­ship in the OFCS, received around the same time), my con­fid­ence took a hit, but in hind­sight, I’m glad I wasn’t thrown into that mael­strom. It’s clear to me that I need to slow down, to cut back, to reflect more.

The online envir­on­ment has room for all kinds of writing. I’m dis­ap­pointed that per­cep­tions of film blog­ging seem so tilted toward block­busters, toward dis­cus­sions of box office num­bers, toward only the newest films. That kind of cov­erage will be as dis­pos­able online as it is in print.

Writer's Block

So I hope you’ll bear with me as I try to realign Toronto Screen Shots with what my ori­ginal goals were back in 2007. I hope that freeing myself from the “fire­hose” will break the crip­pling writer’s block I’ve been feeling for the past few months.

Maybe when I get my (modest) mojo back, I’ll actu­ally start asking if any­body out there wants me to write for them. Stay tuned.

Note: I tried to find inform­a­tion about the images used in this post but was unable to. If you are the copy­right owner, please con­tact me should you want the images removed or proper credits attached.

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By the Numbers

by James McNally on February 8, 2011 · 8 comments

in Personal

Numbers at Night (by Jez Page)

Ever since I began writing about film online, I’ve felt com­pelled to use some sort of visual rating system. Although never a fan of the simplistic “thumbs up” or “thumbs down” of Siskel and Ebert, I felt using a rating out of ten gave me a sort of crit­ical frame­work for com­paring films to each other. But lately, I’ve been ques­tioning the value of such a system. When I see oth­er­wise sane people deciding what film to see based solely on a numer­ical score (even, or maybe espe­cially, one out of 100!) from Metacritic or Rotten Tomatoes, it dis­ap­points me. And yet, I’ve been rating films this way for years. Well, no more, at least here.

I’ve come to realize that for a variety of reasons, I’m doing a dis­ser­vice to readers by slap­ping a number at the bottom of my reviews. For film lovers, it’s too tempting to skip to the rating and not bother to read the ana­lysis and reas­oning behind it. And for film­makers, whose work I’m usu­ally happy to help pro­mote, the number can sink an oth­er­wise well-reasoned review. Filmmakers may be reluctant to link here or even quote from one of my reviews if the number isn’t at least a 9 or a 10. Somehow, that feels unfair to everyone involved.

So, at least for the fore­see­able future, the numer­ical rat­ings won’t appear here. I still rate everything I see on IMDB, but that’s more for cal­ib­rating my own internal crit­ical sense. I don’t see it adding much value here. What do you think? Are num­bers and stars and per­centage scores and even thumbs useful to anyone other than the most casual of filmgoers?

Special thanks to Flickr user Jez Page for making his photo avail­able under a Creative Commons licence.

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Working for Kinosmith

by James McNally on October 31, 2009 · 1 comment

in Personal

Kinosmith

After a few brief weeks of unem­ploy­ment, I began working again at the begin­ning of October. It’s just a few days a week for now, but it’s likely to grow into a full-time pos­i­tion before long. I’m working for a small but mighty dis­trib­utor called Kinosmith. I’d been aware of them for a while, but didn’t realize that the com­pany was only founded in early 2007. Or that up until now, it’s been essen­tially a one-man oper­a­tion. Robin Smith has worked in the Canadian film industry for more than 20 years, for com­panies such as Capri Releasing, Seville Pictures, Lions Gate, Alliance Atlantis, and the Toronto International Film Festival, and he seems to know everyone. But he made it clear upon meeting me this summer that he needed some help. Although my main areas of respons­ib­ility will even­tu­ally be the web site and social media ini­ti­at­ives, for the past few weeks, I’ve been doing a lot of admin­is­trative work. It’s been a great way to begin to under­stand the busi­ness, and I look for­ward to absorbing some of Robin’s expertise as we con­tinue to work together. I con­sider myself extremely lucky to have been in the right place at the right time.

I had been emailing back and forth for the past few months with another industry vet­eran, Oliver Groom, pro­pri­etor of Project X Distribution, a spe­cial­ized DVD label that puts out the work of British film­maker Peter Watkins as well as a few others. We finally decided to meet in person for a drink and since Oliver and Robin had recently partnered up for their DVD releases, Robin came along too. All three of us got along well from that first meeting and after another get-together and a few emails, Robin asked me to come and help him out. He recently moved his home office to Oliver’s house and so even though I work for Robin, I see Oliver a lot as well.

If I haven’t been writing here as often as usual, it’s not because I’ve been watching fewer films. On the con­trary, I’m also helping out by watching screeners sub­mitted to Kinosmith as well as catching up on the films we’re releasing now. Robin has built up a very impressive cata­logue of films in just over two years, and lots of film­makers want to work with him, so things are very busy. It does bring up a bit of an eth­ical dilemma for me. I don’t intend to refrain from reviewing films that happen to be dis­trib­uted by Kinosmith, but I want to be com­pletely trans­parent about my rela­tion­ship to the dis­trib­utor. Do you think it will be enough to put a standard dis­closure notice at the begin­ning of any blog entry that deals with a Kinosmith title? I promise not to give any film pref­er­en­tial treat­ment, but I don’t want to ignore them, either, espe­cially if I’m ever somehow involved in the decision to acquire the film for Kinosmith.

In any case, I’m very excited to be indul­ging my pas­sion for film and learning more about the busi­ness side of things. It’s a great oppor­tunity and I’m very thankful to Robin and Oliver for taking me under their wing.

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