I found the film fascinating and sometimes hilarious, but my overall response was revulsion, not to the film itself but to the attitudes your film highlights. Therefore, I loved it because I always want film to affect me strongly. Are there particular audience responses you would like your film to generate?

I want the film to make people think and generate discussion. And it certainly seems to have that effect. And taking people through a journey where they are not only being asked to look at certain aspects of our culture but to also feel something is definitely a part of how I’m trying to elicit dialogue and thought around the subject. I haven’t heard “revulsion” yet — it’s a great word! But certainly everyone has their own experience, depending on what they’re bringing to the story.

The film is a remarkable dissection of gender politics in the entertainment industry and more broadly. Was there a specific event or discussion which prompted the production of this film?

I don’t think it was one thing. I went to a women’s college, so none of this stuff is new to me. And I worked as a stripper for many years, so very early on in my career, I learned about and had seen sides of society to which most people aren’t privy, and because of that, I’ve always had a lot to say on the subject. Not the least of which is that straight white men aren’t always the villains in this story.

The film comes across as (justifiably) very angry about the treatment of women. Do you see it as an angry film?

I don’t think it’s angry. It’s honest. And in my experience, when women are honest, it’s perceived as anger because behaviorally we don’t accept honesty and directness from women. We have to convert women’s honesty into an emotion, such as anger, so that we can contain it in a package that’s easier to dismiss.

Considering the huge range of topics involved, how did you focus your attention onto the specific issues that you do here?

I think of the title as the thesis and the parts of the film as the case studies. I was looking at various ways that we eradicate the female subjective perspective.

Naturally, I want to ask about the puppets. At what point did you decide to tell this story with dolls and what was the response from your collaborators?

Certainly there’s a symbolic aspect. They really lend themselves to satire and the sleaziness of the pop world — women being treated like dolls.

Were there particular challenges about telling this story with dolls, and how did you overcome them?

You have to make everything. I referred to this as the Michael’s Craft Project From Hell. It was a big undertaking, especially doing pre-production and production on my own. But other than that, I actually really enjoyed the process. There was a lot of room for discovery that I don’t typically have if I’m doing live-action because the process was a lot slower and I was literally building the world.

Sticking with the craft of the film, I thought a lot of the message came across through the editing. Do you storyboard or was a lot of the final form decided in the editing room?

I do storyboard and the whole thing is scripted. But of course a lot changes in the edit, too. It’s a plastic art. Some scenes were written in a different order and had to be rearranged for greater impact in the edit. Some things were cut. Some moments were found in the edit. It’s always a combination, in my experience. You get the best footage you can to tell the story, and then when you edit, you treat the footage like it’s a documentary and try to find the best film in the footage you have.

You filled many roles here, including director, writer, producer and performer. Did you find wearing these multiple hats challenging, liberating, or both?

Neither. It’s purely functional. If I have a team, great. If I don’t, whatever. I will make films regardless, however I can. My stepdad was a carpenter and when I was a kid and I wanted a stage to perform on, we built one. And I approach filmmaking from that perspective. If I have a crew, awesome, I’ll build a bigger stage. If I don’t, I still have a hammer and some nails and I know how to use them.

As you have guided this project throughout the whole production, what has the journey been like from initial idea to completion?

I had a few false starts, with the script and with the production, when I was trying to do a more traditional shoot, with producers and such. But once I determined that I was doing it by myself and what it was truly about for me, the rest was pretty straightforward. I just needed that thesis statement — that was the solidifying agent, and after that, everything else fell into place.

How has the response been from critics and festivals, such as Slamdance and Chicago Underground?

It’s been interesting, to say the least. Most people LOVE it. But the few haters really hate it. It’s very polarizing. I actually kind of enjoy that about the film — you shouldn’t set out to make movies with the intent of people leaving the theater and saying, “Yeah, that was alright” — although I have to be careful because there are some really unstable folks out there who hate women like me and it does become a safety issue sometimes. That’s one of the Five Faces of Oppression of course . . . violence.

Statements that engage with inequality, especially when they come from women, often receive hate messages. Have you experienced much of this, and if so, how do you deal with it?

Oh yes. People always wanna shoot the messenger in these matters. And I expect a second wave once the film is released. What happened at the Chicago Underground is a great example. There were some really aggressive trolls, about 5 or 6 (one of whom worked for the festival) who came to the screening with the sole purpose of “confronting” me and spent the entire Q&A heckling me, attacking me. One man suggested that my film is killing people. And another shouted, “You sound like Fox News!” One guy said in an accusatory manner, “You claim that everything in this film is based on real events, but when has a vagina ever been bought and sold?!”

“Dollhouse” feels like the epitome of an independent film, put together under restrictions that you used to your advantage, and engaging with contemporary issues. What advice would you offer to other filmmakers in a similar position to you, especially women?

Yeah, I always say I’ll make a movie even if all I have is a shoestring and a piece of gum. My advice to women: don’t be afraid of the tech. If you can shoot and edit, no one can tell you “no.” And it’s not that hard to learn. After that, embrace the limitation, don’t fight it, and you’ll find yourself doing something really cool.

What is next for you?

I’ve got a lot in the works, some TV, some Film. Mostly with humans, but a few with puppets. There’s a feature thriller I’m really excited about, based on my time working as a stripper called “THE NICOLE,” and project about a mathematician with some CBS showrunners, to name a few.

I loved the film, found it hugely enjoyable and also sometimes quite disturbing. Do you consider that a good response? Is that what you want?

That sounds pretty successful to me.

Excellent! The film premiered at the Toronto Film Festival. How was that?

It was great. The response was overwhelmingly positive, it was awesome.

Great. What hopes do you have for the wider release? Obviously you want as many people to see it as possible.

My hope is that the film can continue to go out and reach the audience that it’s meant for. I think we live in a time where so many of us still continue to take for granted where our food comes from and what it goes through to actually get it on your plate and I think this film does a great job of kind of dissecting that system and pulling the curtain back in a really fun way.

Absolutely. While watching it, I thought that corporate control and spin were the most apparent concerns of the film. Were those on your mind or were other areas also significant to you?

The corporatocracy and its influence over our food system is immense, and especially in the United States where these companies have so much power and so much money and so much control, literally from the minute that that egg is hatched until it gets into your house. And the number of people they take advantage of along the way, I think, is even more disturbing. Like what happens with the chicken farmers, and for me this is probably the most eye-opening part of the film, was when I went and kind of embedded myself and started working with the Buttrams and their family and you start to hear from all these chicken farmers who are essentially indentured servants. These guys are so on the hook for sometimes millions and millions of dollars with these companies that there’s no way out for them. They are basically stuck in a system that doesn’t appreciate them, that doesn’t compensate them and then at the end of the day is never going to take care of them.

It was very distressing at times which I’m sure was the point. The animation sequences were a really good encapsulation of the film’s balance of tones. They were simultaneously amusing and disturbing. Is that what you were going for?

Well, I think what you want to do is you want to have people enjoy the terribleness. One of the things that I’ve always tried to accomplish with my films is I want to give you spinach. I really want to give you mouthfuls and mouthfuls of spinach, but I want it to taste like cotton candy. So, I’m going to give you what you need, that’s good for you, but at the same time I want you to really enjoy it.

Great, yeah. Now, I wonder, is part of that to do with you often placing yourself very centrally in your work. One method of documentary filmmaking is to keep the filmmaker out of sight, but it’s not your approach. What do you hope to express by playing a major role the way you do?

I hope that when I go on this journey personally that I’m taking you along with me. I become your eyes, I become your ears, I become the person who can speak out for you in the middle of this situation and that when I learn something, you learn something. When I feel something, you feel something. It becomes this vicarious journey that we are kind of going on that becomes more personal. That’s my hope, my hope is that it takes you in a personal way where it gives you more of a connection to the characters in the story in a way that it may not have before.

Thinking of that, in this era we’re in right now of spin, fake news, media bias, do you think the role of documentaries such as yours has changed?

No, I think the role of documentaries and the role of non-fiction film is more important than ever. There are five media companies that control the majority of what we get to see, hear and read in the world today, and I think that the more that we can as independent filmmakers, independent storytellers, give you a lens that isn’t beholden to corporate interests, that isn’t beholden to some type of corporate review or some type of censorship that will come from the top down, I think the better it is for the consumer, and the better it is for the viewer. I think that we have a real responsibility now to kind of stand up, make more noise, shake more trees, plant more flags of, I think, anger, frustration and change than we ever have before.

Considering your experience, what sort of advice might you give to filmmakers wanting to make their own documentary?

I think the biggest piece of advice I’d give to any documentary filmmaker right now is get started. People always try and build barriers around why they can’t do things, like I don’t have the money, I don’t have the crew, I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never done this before. I tell everyone, first time filmmakers, you’ve never made a movie until you have, so you should just dive in. You should just dive in, you should start shooting what you can, people will work with you for free, you can borrow equipment, there’s a million ways to make a movie and they’re all different. Once you start, you realize you have what it takes. You have the passion and the biggest thing that drives documentary filmmaking is you have to want to tell that story, so if you’re passionate about something, if you believe in it, then you should just dive in feet first and swim away.

I’m going to take that advice, I want to make a documentary myself.

Well, there you go, you should dive in.

Totally. You’ve had some awards attention, most obviously “Super Size Me” was Oscar-nominated for Best Documentary. What does that kind of award attention mean to you?

I think that getting the recognition of your peers is always something that I find personally rewarding. For me, I think that I’ve felt very fortunate just to continue to get to tell stories and make movies for the last fifteen years. That’s the greatest success that I think you can have. Golden knick-knacks and things like that are awesome and I’ve got a bunch of different ones, but I think that for me the most important thing is to be able to get up every day and get to do what I love. I think that so long as you get to do that everything else will work itself out. You shouldn’t be diving into making a movie because you feel like you’re going to win an award, you’re going to win an Oscar or an Emmy or whatever else, or a BAFTA. You should be diving in to do these things because it’s what you’re most passionate about, because it’s your life. If you don’t tell this story you’re going to die, you’re going to explode, you don’t know what you’re going to do with yourself if you don’t make this. I think that’s where the artform really defines itself is by the people who get up every day and do the work just because they have to.

In terms of the distribution, the film is being distributed on iTunes. With so much more material going onto streaming, do you think that this is a particularly helpful method of distribution, rather than theatrically?

I think that there’s so many more films being made today, and to be able to get into the hands of people as quickly as possible, digital and streaming distribution is a real blessing. I think that we have the ability now to reach millions of people really quickly. I’ve had movies come out in theaters where I’m getting all of this national press, but people can only see it in ten cities. If you don’t live in Chicago or New York or Los Angeles, it’ll be months before you ever get to see it. So, I think that to be able to create a groundswell and attention around a movie, to create a conversation and make sure that everybody has the ability to participate in that conversation, is where streaming really succeeds.

Right, makes sense, because of the accessibility. Looking particularly at the craft of the film, I thought a lot of the message came across through the editing. Do you storyboard or was a lot of the final form decided in the editing room?

Whenever we start a film, I always write a road map for myself. If the world was filled with rainbows and unicorns and I could basically have everything I wanted, and the movie ended up perfectly the way that I envisioned it from the beginning, here’s the road map, here’s what will happen during the film. Now, granted, once you start shooting, none of that happens. You’ve been able to, in your mind, envision what you would like to see, and then that helps you when you get into the edit of understanding where things can marry, where thoughts and ideas can be pieced together. But all of that is figured out in post. I believe in editing from the minute you start shooting. And so we’re shooting and editing in real time so that I know where holes are, I know what works, I know what doesn’t, I know where things could be better, I know where there’s missing scenes or there’s missing elements that will make things more impactful or we just need more kind of gravitas around something. And I was really blessed by having who I believe to be one of the greatest editors in the world today, Pierre Takal, cut this movie. I have worked with Pierre on a few different projects and there is no editor better than that guy.

And with that in mind, in terms of shooting and editing, are there any scenes that were particularly memorable for you, either from when you were shooting or in the finished film?

I love everything that we shot with the farmers, everything that we shot at the chicken farm with Jonathan and his son Zack, I just think is really powerful. I think that it gives you a sign and a window into a world that we never get to see. There’s such a level of just raw honesty from them about what they face every day in this industry that takes advantage of them around every turn, so I found those scenes to be incredibly revealing and I found them to be really poignant and ultimately really powerful.

As writer-producer-director, you’ve guided this project throughout the whole production. What’s the journey been like from initial idea to completion?

It’s one of those things where now your baby’s going off and going to school and you’re watching it run out the door and you’re like “Be nice to my kid! Play well with others! Hope you have fun!” and now you gotta let it go off and grow up on its own. You can shepherd a film so far and then it’s up to the people and how they perceive it, how they receive it and so far it’s been awesome, the film has connected really well with audiences. I think that people love Jonathan Buttram and his family and the story of the chicken farmers. I think it’s a fun movie, and I think that when all’s said and done if I can make you laugh and I can make you listen, then I’ve done my job.

I’ll say. It certainly gets a positive review from me which will be posted next week. What can you tell us about your next project?

There’s a few things that I’m working on but right now the thing that’s taking up the lion’s share is, after we opened the pop-up in the film, we were approached by a bunch of folks to turn it into a full bore restaurant so now we are in the process of closing with financiers. We did a pop-up in New York when the film opened here in September, and so now we are going down the path of turning these into real chicken restaurants and helping more chicken farmers and if I can create 1% more independent chicken farmers in the United States then I can’t imagine anything better.

It’s funny, out of all the things in the film that were shocking and astonishing, I think the bit that made my jaw drop the furthest was oh wow! Holy Chicken!, your restaurant, was actually so successful with the public that it is being franchised! That’s fantastic for the incredible transparency and honesty that you put forwards there. I guess I was cynical and thought, oh yeah, people going to buy that and, oh my God, they did! It was incredible.

[Laughs] Well, I think that we had a delicious chicken sandwich helped an awful lot too, so we’ll see moving forward what happens.

I hope that next time I visit the US I get a chance to try one of your Holy Chickens.

I hope so too, that would be the greatest thing ever.

Well, thank you so much for talking with us, Morgan, and I wish you all the best of luck with the film. I really liked it and I hope other people do as well.

Well thank you very much and I wish you good luck with your documentary. Go and knock it out of the park!

First of all, I loved the film, found it hugely evocative and very atmospheric.

Thanks very much.

Aside from the Hallowed Histories screening, and the film’s availability on Amazon, do you have any other festival screenings coming up?

The first screening was at Fear in the Fens. We’re discussing with one of our sponsors, Black Shuck Gin, about a screening at the John Hurt Centre at Cinema City, but that might be a bit small. We’re also submitting the film to horror festivals and waiting to hear back from the organizers.

It’s interesting that you mention horror festivals. Watching the film it didn’t strike me as a horror film, although there are horror elements. Do you see it as a horror film?

Originally I did, but looking at it now it does seem to have a smaller percentage of horror than drama. But I would still class it that way. Horror films were certainly an inspiration.

Since you mention it, what are some inspirational images or films or filmmakers that you drew upon?

“Under The Shadow” was an inspiration as well as “The Babadook.” It was films like that which turned the film towards a female lead, because I thought the mother/maternal aspect would add something to the film. I was originally inspired by “Logan,” I wanted that sort of western feel, and that would have led to more exterior landscape shots. Making it with a female lead brings with it some concerns, since I’m neither a mother nor a woman. But my partner (executive producer and location manager Rosa Evans) as well as Rebecca Grant brought that female perspective which made it work. One inspirational image for me was from “The Foreigner.” We see a bereaved parent standing in their child’s bedroom, and that helped me put together the opening shots.

Grief and memory seem to be the major themes of the film. Were those your major concerns or were other areas also significant to you?

Grief and memory are big, also mental health was a major concern for me, wanting to put that issue and experience on screen. I wanted to do that and also a film about Black Shuck. I was reminded of Winston Churchill describing depression as being like a black dog, so the two ideas tied together nicely.

It’s a minor thing, but references to the legend tend to refer to the dog as Black Shuck. Why did you add “The” to the title?

Mainly because I think it sounds better. But also to differentiate this film from another one called “Black Shuck.” I haven’t seen all of that one, but I don’t want people searching for this film online and finding another one. So hopefully including “The” will just bring people here.

I loved the editing pattern. What can you tell us about the editing process of the film? Do you storyboard or was a lot of the final form decided in the editing room?

There was no storyboard, we started just with a shot list. There was a lot done in the editing room, not least the order of events. It didn’t start the way it does originally, and whereas some directors are very much in love with certain scenes that they won’t cut, I cut too much, and then needed to put bits back in. But I figured out how to build up the story during the edit, especially the opening scene with Jamie alone in her room.

That was a very moving opening, the overhead shot capturing Jamie alone, surrounded by the empty bottle, the pills and children’s clothes. It was very much a show don’t tell opening.

That’s something that’s been praised in responses, so I’m glad that worked well. It doesn’t tell you straight away what’s going on, creates a mystery that the audience has to solve.

Were there scenes that were particularly memorable for you, either from production or in the finished film?

The church scene was the first one we cut, and after all the work we had done, to see that scene and know it was a great culmination for the film. I wrote the poem that we hear at the end, and I really liked the way it fitted with that scene, even though it seems a bit cheesy.

Fascinating! I had assumed it was a pre-existing poem but you wrote it yourself? It does work well at the end, especially as voiceover. If it had been spoken out loud I think it would have been cheesy, but as a voiceover it helps bring us more into Jamie’s mind. On that note, what is your view of the central character? Were character mannerisms in the script or actors’ suggestions, your ideas or a combination?

It was a combination. Rebecca gave a very reserved performance, which is what I find with more professional actors. She’s the most professional I’ve worked with, and not to be disparaging to amateurs, but their performances can often be overdone. Rebecca dialed it back, and when we got to the proper breakdown scene, she had built up enough to escalate to that particular moment. She took direction really well and was very self-critical, looking at what she did and wanting to try something else. It was a really useful experience for me, working with her.

As writer-producer-director you’ve guided this project throughout its production. What’s the journey been like from initial idea to completion? How has it been for you?

It’s been stressful, but I did it for fun and it is fun. The early stages involved a lot of choosing locations, running between them, getting permission. The film only really got moving when Rebecca came on board. She came to me to shoot her self tape auditions, and I invited her to join the project. That’s when things started moving. It’s always difficult to get funding, and most of those involved were working for free or for favors. Crowdfunding was a challenge but a good one.

How did you get the film onto Amazon Prime?

Amazon have a review process and a short film sort of remit, so it was a matter of submitting the film for their reviewing and then seeing where it went.

Considering your experience, what sort of advice might you give to filmmakers wanting to make something similar to this?

Just do it. I work freelance to produce corporate films but you don’t need that sort of basis. People can and do make films on smart phones so they should just do it. It’s important to make mistakes and learn from them. Probably the most important qualities to have are heart and ambition. I’ve even making films since I was in my early teens, and they’ve improved with experience and technology. But an early film I made was seen by the editor of “Twilight,” and he was impressed by the heart and ambition of it, from someone that young, so that made a difference.

What can you tell us about your next project?

I’m working on a one minute short that my brother Matty directed, which we’ll enter into a contest. It’s to do with UFO sightings, and an interview with a witness of an event. We cut the interview together with a recreation of the UFO sighting. Further down the line I want to turn “The Black Shuck” into a feature, but I’m currently working on a script for another horror project. It’s about a security guard who works a shift at a secluded care home following some mysterious disturbances. It’s semi-inspired by a night shift my dad did at a care home.

Best of luck with that, and I look forward to seeing it, as I enjoyed “The Black Shuck” very much.

Elizabeth, thanks for taking the time to share some insights about your charming new movie, “Across the River,” with the readers at The Critical Movie Critics. One of the aspects of “Across the River” I enjoyed most is the cinema-verite style and how “live” many of the scenes felt. What were the challenges of acting in real spaces with so many people around?

My pleasure. Thank you so much for asking me. We tried to make the film feel as “real” as possible in every way and filming in a busy area like London’s South Bank was part of that. One of the major things to think about was making sure we didn’t record anyone watching us film — a film crew by the river, in summer is always going to attract attention so it was important to try to make sure that didn’t happen or at least as little as possible.

The movie is short by modern standards, but you’re on screen, often in close-up, for nearly 70 minutes. How do you deal with such an intense focus as an actor?

Wow is it really that much! I didn’t think about it really to be honest. I guess you just have to trust your fellow actors and director. In a film that is pretty much a two-hander it is inevitable that I was going to be on screen a lot — it is just a bit disconcerting when you see yourself in mega-close up on a huge cinema screen.

You’re credited as a co-writer — how were you involved in that process?

Yes, both Keir and I are and that is because I’d say 99% of the film script was totally improvised. Although we discussed with Warren the director, what we needed to reveal within a scene in terms of plot etc before we would shoot — how we arrived there was totally up to Keir and I so we effectively created the script in the moment. It was a totally collaborative process from beginning to end and was a brilliantly creative film to be involved in.

What was the rehearsal process like? Were you able to rehearse on location?

Because the film was to be totally improvised the rehearsal was a bit different from any other film I’ve been involved in. Warren, Keir and I talked through together in detail what the storyline was and what was happening at any point in the timeline of the film. We then walked the route, through London that we would be taking during filming, so we had a good idea of where we would be. It also allowed us to include any ideas into the film that came to mind as we explored the route.

How many takes were you afforded during the shooting?

It really depended on how well the first couple of takes went, but definitely not more than three.

Your on-screen relationship with your co-star, Keir Charles, is very believable. Did you know Keir before this project? And how did the two of you build your characters and back story?

No I hadn’t met Keir before we met at the casting but he is such a lovely guy and super talented, we hit if off immediately and he was just a joy to work with — and so naturally funny!

You do a ton of walking during the movie. Watching the movie, I was relieved when your character finally takes her heels off. You didn’t have to wear high heels during the bulk of the shooting, right?

You and me both! I am afraid that I did have to keep my shoes on for the most part because walking side by side next to Keir we had to be the same height all the way through the shoot, so no slippers for me I’m afraid. The sore feet in the movie are real!

Another thing your character does quite a bit is talk on the phone. Did you have someone on the other end?

Not at all, I just had to imagine someone was on the other end.

This movie is radically different, in both style and substance, than a movie like “Doctor Strange,” which you had a role in. How different were the two experiences? What are the advantages/disadvantages of working on a big studio movie compared to a small, intimate movie, like “Across the River”? What kind of movie do you prefer as a movie-goer?

They are obviously very different in terms of scale and budget but to be honest in terms of what I do they are pretty similar — I always try and be truthful to the character I’m playing whatever project I am working on. The hugely collaborative and creative nature of “Across the River” makes it stands alone and I think it is a true one-off and as I say I loved the whole process. But of course it is fantastic to be involved in a huge studio movie too — one of many memorable moments from “Doctor Strange” is when I asked for a lemon and ginger tea, I got real lemon and real ginger brought to me so a bigger budget does have it’s benefits! As a movie-goer I like both — what is crucial to me is a great story regardless of budget. As long as I am involved in the story and there are characters I care about then I am happy.

What other projects are you working on? What else can our readers see you in?

“Mum’s List,” with Rafe Spall and Emilia Fox is just out on DVD as is “BBC One of Us.” “CALEB” is a lovely short film that is gathering lots of recognition on the festival circuit and I am popping up on “Doctors” at the end of March, plus there is a super project that I can’t talk about yet but hopefully will be able to soon. I wrote and directed my first film recently called “THE ANGEL OF HULL” so I am busy with the post-production on that too.

Warren, thanks for taking the time to share some insights about your charming new movie, “Across the River,” with the readers at The Critical Movie Critics.

I’d given myself a deadline to finish the principal photography of my first feature before the birth of my first child (October 2011) as I wanted to be around as much as possible to help out while she was young. My story idea was designed to work as an improvised piece, something we could largely shoot in sequence, only two main characters, locations we could get back to if necessary and very few complex logistical constraints.

I think the obvious comparison audiences will make with the movie is Richard Linklater’s “Before Sunrise” and its sequels, in the walking and talking aesthetic, as well as in the rigorous focus on just two characters. How much were these films on your mind and/or what were your other influences?

I do love “Before Sunrise” and almost all of Linklater’s work so I’m happy with that comparison though I don’t think I was consciously influenced too much by it. It’s more that there are similarities in form justified by some similarities in content. “Brief Encounter” was a more conscious influence, and “Casablanca.” Trying to find a way to make a satisfying romance where the leads don’t end up together.

Most of the movie is shot in true cinema-verite style. What was your shooting process like, and how much control did you have over the locations you were shooting in? Did you shoot with multiple cameras?

We did use multiple cameras. On some days we had 6 camera (DSLR) bodies on set though for most dialogue scenes we used 3. Lots of non-dialogue scenes were single camera and reshoot dialogue was mostly 2 cameras. We had very little control over locations. We would try to be relatively inconspicuous so as not to excite much interest from the public. London crowds are generally not that excited by camera crews unless they recognize some of the talent involved but we did have to try to avoid having passers by in focus and we did have to lose shots because of people in the background looking at the actors or the camera. We had crew members play members of the public surrounding the actors in some cases to get the public out of shot. We got releases sometimes from people if they did end up being recognizable. We basically worked around what was there; chose to shoot at times when the crowds, or lack of, were appropriate to the scene. The cameras were all handheld for the whole film (except a handmade body-rig for a few cycling shots and a swing shot), which was both an aesthetic and practical decision. For the outside locations we couldn’t really put a tripod down without creating an “obstruction” and being handheld gave the operators the opportunity to follow the actors’ inspirations. The gimbals now available might have given us an alternative aesthetic choice if we’d shot a few years later but I’m happy with most of the movement in most cases. There’s only a few instances when I think the jerkiness becomes distracting rather than invigorating.

What were the greatest challenges you had shooting this movie?

The main practical problem I had day to day was that I’d managed to find good people for all the creative members of the team but hadn’t been able to find as experienced people to help with Production Management or Assistant Directing. If there had been a final script and shot list then preplanning could have got around this but because we were constantly on our toes reacting to what was happening and making it up as we went along it was mostly down to me to keep the practical stuff going (like getting everyone moving and feeding them) as well as fulfilling all my creative responsibilities.

I imagine light was a constant concern — how did you deal with this throughout the shoot?

It was a similar situation with lighting to camera supports / movement . The office at the start and her house at the end were conventionally though sparsely lit, but the other interiors and all the exteriors were all just available light — choosing the right angles and NDs so we got consistent coverage and appropriate shots. This meant there was a “cinema-verite” style which did suit the film and we were able to move and work a bit more quickly than if we’d been adding or modelling light.

Even more than a love story between two characters, “Across the River” feels like a love letter to London. How much did the geography of London play in shaping your story and style? What is your own relationship with London?

If I lived in another town then this film would probably be set there. It was filmed here because here is where I live and work and the place I know better than any other. It maybe helps that some of the locations have resonance with people who don’t live here and it might have made it easier to establish a sense of place because of how often the center of London is portrayed on screen. The characters are based on people who live and work in the places we see them living and working so it’s honest and truthful and accurate to set it in those places.

What was it about this story that you wanted to tell? Why are you personally drawn to stories like “Across the River,” and to making movies in general?

It’s a personal story. It’s stuff I was thinking about and that I wanted to share. I make films partly as a form of therapy, a way to think through issues that are important or interesting to me. As a way to express myself. And it’s good to try to apologize (as Ryan does) for past misdemeanors. I was hoping I’d get some clarity on the issues around commitment and responsibility which they’re both struggling with. I want to connect with an audience honestly and truthfully. There’s a lot of people making movies solely as entertainment or escapism. I hope people are entertained by my films but it’s more important that they leave a little bit more likely to be patient and forgiving of their loved ones; a little more understanding of other people’s faults perhaps.

Finally, “Across the River” is radically different from most movies made these days, both in style and substance. How do you find an audience for a movie like “Across the River”?

That’s a tough question. I think it’s quite a good thing if, as you say, it’s “radically different from most movies made these days” but most distributors, sales agents and even many programmers don’t seem to be as happy about that. It’s often described by those rejecting it commercially as a “small film.” I don’t take that as an insult and many films I respect might be described in the same way.

Jon, it is indeed a pleasure to interview you for the devoted readers at The Critical Movie Critics so much obliged for you taking the time to have me pick your brain about your creativity in movie-making. Your labor of love in the probing and delectable “Road to the Well” was an impressive feature debut for you. As director, screenwriter and producer for the film what was your inspiration for concocting this quirky yet penetrating murder mystery? What influences were utilized for the conception of your body-burying frightfest?

Great to be talking to you, Frank. I’m happy you liked the film. I’ve said it many times before, but this film was very much like that scene from “Apollo 13” where the engineers throw a bunch of tools and equipment onto a table, ordered to build an oxygen filter. We had to look at all the resources we had access to and try and construct a story from there. Tim and I started at digital media start up Maker Studios where we met who would become one of our producers and a great friend, Nick Mathews, who had a cabin up in Donner Lake where we filmed. With Tim and I being from the Midwest, going up there was a shock to the system. To this day it’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been to, and we figured it’d be a great place to shoot a film. I’d studied philosophy in college, which acted as a bridge to literature by discovering novels like “Crime and Punishment,” “The Stranger,” and “The Orchard Keeper”; stories that examined murder within a more cerebral structure and offered profound examinations inside the mind’s of these fascinating and complex characters. Given that most people’s first stories are often based on semi-auto-biography, I looked no further than the topic of friendship, as I’ve been fortunate to have had some great and exceptionally close friends throughout my life; people who I consider brothers and would do close to anything for. How close that “anything” was felt like an interesting question to explore. Regarding movies, I’ve always been fascinating by film noir and its ability to combine great characters, photography, genre, and ideas. Many people think of these films as the dame walking into the detectives office asking for help, forgetting that these stories were crafted by some of the finest American writers who ever lived, who figured they could provide entertaining pulp thrills within complex narratives (I think I’m still trying to figure out what “The Big Sleep” is about). So our director-meets-dame was a friend getting his friend involved in a murder, and it was my goal to explore why this would all happen by exploring these characters. So between some noir, friends, murder, and a beautiful cabin it seemed like the perfect combination to start assembling the story.

How would you classify “Road to the Well”? Is it accurate to call it a murder mystery/thriller or does it register more as a horror showcase? Better yet is it an equal combination of both genres?

Although I mention film noir, I never really set out to make a specific classification of film (as even film noir extends across most genres). If you’re going to pour everything you have into a story you’re going to pull from everything you admire — from photography through literature, from buddy comedies like “Swingers” to westerns like “McCabe & Mrs. Miller.” Tim and I had consumed films religiously all the way through college and up to production, bringing all we loved to the table, so to try and categorize what we hoped to create is next to impossible. I’ve described the film as a dark-comedy thriller or even film noir, but horror showcase sounds so cool that I might start using that one.

What is it about the film’s plagued protagonist in Laurence Fuller’s Frank that one might identify with his escalating malaise? Should the audience sympathize with the disillusioned Frank or is he to be scolded for not taking the golden opportunity to commit to his academic excellence in favor of electing to wallow in corporate drudgery?

I owe a large part of that to Laurence Fuller, who absolutely killed the role. Casting him was the classic miracle of where once he came into the room and read the part the search was over. Laurence’s father Peter Fuller was a prominent art critic back in the U.K. and so Laurence came to set with his iPad filled with some of the most terrifying and disturbing paintings and illustration I’ve ever seen, which I’m pretty sure got increasingly more macabre as the shoot progressed (we shot more or less in linear order), so I think that Laurence developed this magnificent ability to gradually reflect his character’s gradual decay and descent toward corruption. Although an early note from people who read the script was that Frank was too passive, I knew that the right actor would be able to communicate all that was required without saying a word. I guess the plan was for some type of Kuleshov Effect, where the viewer could extend their own thoughts, fears, or desires onto him.

Should the audience sympathize with the disillusioned Frank or is he to be scolded for not taking the golden opportunity to commit to his academic excellence in favor of electing to wallow in corporate drudgery?

Absolutely. I figured Frank was someone who took Marx’s declaration for philosophers to change the world to heart, but as I believe many experience, from activists to artists, the romance quickly fades when you discover how arduous the process is (see my note below about this entire endeavor). So I think Frank deserves empathy — if only from millennials — in wanting to change the world and fast, unsure that he wanted to hop straight into an taxing graduate program, which proved to result in an even more challenging existence. However, both plans require motivation and Frank hardly has any. I think most people fall into that comfort — where you have a job, and it’s paying decent money, which allows you to do more superficial things (I don’t mean that pejoratively), but leaves little time for more meaningful endeavors. I know a great number of people who still have a dream, but you see them falling further into unrelated careers, working their way up the ladder and earning more money, which increases their cost of living, which makes quitting all the harder to do. It’s extraordinarily sad tome, as so many have so much talent to do other things that I know they’d love to do and would be great at (I always think of the line from “A Bronx Tale”). So perhaps Frank also deserves a bit of scolding — for ditching out on what he must have been pretty good at, which is philosophy, simply because it seemed less fulfilling than trying to actualize those ideas.

What was more challenging Jon in your duties behind the camera for “Road to the Well”: Directing, writing the screenplay or producing this film project? Please elaborate.

Writing the script was much more difficult than I anticipated. The first obstacle was creating a story within a very strict and ambitious sense of limitations, which became increasingly tighter as we realized how little money $100,000 was. The story revolved around trying to have interesting characters do and say interesting things, and then thinking of creative ways to suggest more extravagant action. At that point I had only written a few short scripts and two(ish) other features, so I was very green, gobbling up as many screenwriting books as I could get, searching for answers and discovering that, ultimately, it was my responsibility to make it interesting and no book was going to explain how to do that. Directing was a different beast — as it was much more a physical challenge. The production was nineteen days, ten in Los Angeles, and nine up in Donner Lake, across twenty-five days total and 75% of that shoot were night shoots from 7PM-7AM. So it took a lot of mental preparation, as any filmmaker who’s worked on a decent sized production understands the pressure and stress you will inevitably feel during those hours and length of time. Things will go wrong, and to know and anticipate those problems forced Tim and I to create back up plan upon back up plan, so we wouldn’t worry about what to do when issue arose, so much as how to do it. Still, no matter how much you plan, problems happen. I owe it to our incredible crew for allowing us to achieve this, who poured their hearts into the project and made this massive challenge all possible. Nevertheless seeing your movie come to life is one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever gone through. I remember walking home from one of the cabins, after all of us were drinking one night, everyone is laughing and having a good time and getting along, and I’m sure there were issues I didn’t know about (kept off my plate thanks to our incredible line producer Hanna Walicki), but it was this very vivid moment of understanding I was doing exactly what I always dreamed to do and it was exceeding my wildest expectations. There were many moments like that throughout the month, which I’ll never forget. Producing was much more a game of rejection and failure, as the amount of times you hear “No” is almost unbelievable at a certain point — as in there were countless moments where I truly thought we’d be unable to move forward: From the Kick=starter to pre-production to production and post and the festivals and distro. The entire process was wrought with rejection, failure, and embarrassment, and that becomes difficult. Because it’s not romantic — it’s living broke, scrapping for gigs, to then take that money and put the majority of it back into the film, all while trying to maintain the momentum when coming up against obstacle after obstacle.

Outside of the film’s doomed duo in Fuller’s Frank and Micah Parker’s bad boy drifter Jack forced to chaperone a call girl’s dead fleshy remains on their adventurous road trip who in the film comes close to stealing the scene in creepiness, oddity and unpredictability? For the record my personal pick is Marshall R. Teague’s menacing take on military mental case Dale that compromises the nerve-racking tandem’s agenda.

It’s difficult for me to choose any one particular person, as I think all of the characters are meant to have some degree of creepiness and unpredictability. Each was designed to accommodate the same overarching “corrupted” philosophy; existing within a world that either partially destroyed their sense of good (like the office workers) or completely destroyed their entire sense of morality (like Jack). The mission was to watch as Frank interacts with each one of them as they slowly peel away his sense of decency.

In doing research on you Jon I found out that that you majored in Philosophy and Film & Media Studies at Loyola University as an undergrad. Certainly there are philosophical roadblocks that invade both on-screen psyches of leading misfits Frank and Jack. So what was the specific philosophy that you tapped into when conceiving the deadly dilemma that bombarded problematic leads Frank and Jack?

The moment I read this question I started seeing my philosophy professors reading this and passing judgment. Like most things, philosophy really extends into (I have to be specific here) either 1) an abstract or 2) a logical foundation, and both those of these directions go down some of the most profound and complex rabbit holes I’ve ever discovered. I think as an undergrad you leave philosophy feeling like you know far far less than you did going in, but that’s also a motivation to continue the study. Erich Fromm, Albert Camus, Søren Kierkegaard, Nietzsche and Socrates probably had the most direct impact on both me personally and “Road to the Well.” But it’s difficult to talk about specifically because their ideas are so large and complex that to provide brief explanations makes them sound facile and pretentious. Erich Fromm is one of my favorite authors, where every time I’m reading him, I’m thinking I’ll find far too extreme, but each time I’m blown away by his ability to take ideas from across the board — about economics, sociology, history, psychology, and philosophy in order to examine why humans act the way they do. Fromm would likely accuse Jack and Frank of mental illness, but the reasons why they developed that mental illness are where his ideas really shine. If I could pick two non-fiction texts that most impacted the film it might be “Man For Himself” and “Sane Society.” I don’t necessarily agree with all of his ideas, so much as from a story perspective, I find them fascinating and profound.

Jon, was there any particular director or film that motivated you to pursue your passion for freelance filmmaking? At what stage in your life did you feel like venturing into the motion pictures industry?

Every time I hear this question, I think of that line from “Sideways” where Miles asks Maya which bottle brought about her oenophilia. Everyone who has a passion for something seems to have that one moment with the endeavor where there’s this cosmic shift between having a casual interest and loving it enough to pursue as a career. Tim Davis (our cinematographer) had his with “Magnolia,” having this sudden epiphany that he wanted to make movies for a living while watching it. I think I’d have to go with “Jaws.” It always reminds me of pure escape during a period in my life before I ever considered or wanted to make movies. I recall being a tween during the humid Chicago summers and I’d be playing outside with my friends and get called in once dinner was ready. I’d ask to go back out and my mom would say no and I’d be bummed, or my other friends had to head in and the night seemed over. I have this very distinct memory of entering my house under these exact circumstances, feeling the cool air conditioning washing over me, discovering “Jaws” on TNT (channel 53 back in those days), and I just remember my mind completely shifting; no longer caring about the disappointment of having to stay inside, immediately prepared to take this incredible journey with Quint, Brody, and Hooper. I write a lot about old and new films at my website yellowbarrel.org (had to do the plug), and I’ve said before that “Jaws” is perhaps the finest example of how film mechanics and story can operate on a subliminal level for those who don’t understand them. As a pre-teen kid, I had no idea what made “Jaws” work so well, and as I got older and I became further immersed with studying film in college and my first years in production out in LA, I began to understand what made the movie so good — between the characters, direction, and writing. The reason the movie is timeless is because it’s film craft of the highest quality. I think far too many cinephiles fail to give Spielberg the great credit he’s due. Although his stories are perhaps more straightforward, I don’t think one other filmmaker could have made this film as good as it is. In addition to that, and speaking of Spielberg, my hopeless romantic teenage self also drew me to “Dawson’s Creek,” with it’s teen love triangles and Dawson’s film aspirations, specifically. As goofy as it sounds, I think something about how he discussed film, between the history and trivia, along with incorporating Easter Egg cinematic references into the show’s narrative, showing his small productions, and his passion or Spielberg, kind of planted the seed of possibility and romance; making me think maybe I could try to do this.

What would your advice be for aspiring filmmakers in taking the next step to realizing their dreams for entering the craft of making movies?

The best advice I ever came across was in the back of a Movie Maker Magazine, where they had an “Ask a Filmmaker 10 Questions” section and the month’s director said something about how aspiring filmmakers needs to ask themselves if they could imagine doing anything else with their lives. If the answer was yes, then they should definitely go do that, as this really is a competition of both raw talent and perseverance. When you come out to LA, you discover that you’re no longer the unique kid with this crazy passion and dream, but one of tens of thousands, all who loved it enough to leave their families and drive across the country or come from around the world. The entire process is wrought with failure over long periods of time, and if you can’t deal with that week in and week out you will quit. I think everyone has this image in their head like that scene from “Rudy” where he’s receiving the rejection letters from Notre Dame, until he finally gets the eleventh hour acceptance. No film, song, or book that examines an ambitious pursuit will ever capture the amount of time that transpires while struggling and getting rejected over and over. However, if you’re working hard enough, and you keep on failing you’ll soon build some scars. The failure starts to sting less, and then it becomes a waiting game. And as Ta-Nehisi Coates once said on creative breakthroughs you always look to the silver lining in that as more people quit and the longer you go, eventually the competition dwindles. Or so you hope. (I recommend the article on computer programmers’ failure philosophy, which just goes to show the universality of the approach) I’ve made a film that’s being well received, but it’s not changing my life. I’m sure that I’ll continue to struggle for, at the very least, the next few years, and very likely even longer. But it’s worth it, especially after making one and getting the bug of seeing that image in your head come to life. I remain unsure of what else I could do. So my advice is to seriously ask that question — can you imagine doing anything else? I’m not sure how long I’ll last, but I’m still going. And when you make those tiny inch advancements, it becomes all the more thrilling.

So Jon, is there anything that you can share with us in terms of what you have in mind for post-production concerning another film whether it be a full feature or short film?

I’ve been working like crazy on my next feature script since last February, hoping to have it done before our release. It’s a type of political thriller/chamber drama and I honestly couldn’t be more excited for it. After you make a film, you discover all the mistakes you made, and become aware of all the things you could and hope to improve. This next project is a result of taking all that I learned and applying it to a different type of story. I hope to have more details soon, but see the previous question . . . haha

Is there a favorable genre of film that you fancy more so than other kinds of themed movies?

I’m about to nerd out here really hard, but I have this spreadsheet that I first assembled about three years ago, in which I have all of these directors and a list of their films presently available on Netflix (DVD, that is), which have at or above a 3.8 recommended rating, as anything below that often is kind of boring and not worth the literally hundreds and hundreds of films that do fit the criteria that I would rather watch. So containing about 68 directors at about an average of four films per each director, I forgot the exact calculation, but it should last me another 5-7 years to get through them all. What you discover is that most of the greatest filmmakers worked across all genres, and seeing their view and approach is more exciting than any specific type of story. So it’s not about genre, it’s about great films. I think everyone kind of wonders what to do after they work their way through AFI’s top 100 lists, and the more famous director and writer filmographies, and some turn to the 1001 films to see before you die, or other AFI lists, and I felt like it’d be cool to study the greatest filmmaker filmographies, with some limits set in place.

Jon, please complete this thought: “I make films for the sole purpose of______________________.

Hmm. This is a tough one. There’s not really a “sole” purpose. I love writing, I try do it every day, but it wasn’t always fun, especially when I started out. It’s a tricky chicken and the egg situation, in that — given what I mentioned earlier about coming to LA and being overwhelmed with the amount of talent — I knew I needed to get way more serious about what I wanted to do. And getting yourself on a schedule every day to sit down and try and write isn’t very enjoyable at first. It’s like starting to run or weight lift or any exercise, in that it seems so hard at first, but then something shifts and you get that high and now I truly couldn’t imagine not having this type of schedule for the rest of my life. But I didn’t discover that until long after I got into film, back when it was more about the magic. So long answer as usual, but I guess it’s for the purpose of the magic and the method.

Now Jon, this is not to put you on the spot (smile) but what is your perspective on film criticism in today’s cinematic atmosphere? Are critics for the most part helpful or a hindrance to determined artists such as you?

This is a tricky question because I have to approach it from both a filmmaker perspective and as a reader of criticism. As a reader, I think Ebert’s death reflected the downward turn from modern criticism’s zenith. Tim and I are from Chicago and so him and I had what we felt was a type of kinship to the guy. He was this blue-collar critic who was able to bridge the gap between “high class” or more obscure films and audiences that might otherwise never check them out. He also existed during film’s apex within popular culture, when movies were regarded with the highest cultural relevance. The world wanted to know what a critic thought about a movie and would use their thoughts to decide if it’s worth checking out. Now we have Rotten Tomatoes and IMDb and other score aggregators. And yet as much as I might miss the critics, many of these are very helpful in avoiding bad films. Ebert’s passing has felt as though film criticism suddenly shifted into this elitist activity, reserved only for specific audiences. To give you an example, we have about thirty positive reviews, and yet I’ve been rejected from numerous national critics because our movie is not playing in a movie theater. That’s it. Our movie is not in a theater and they don’t review SVOD or straight to DVD. I’ve received that response from every mainstream critic who’s responded. The purpose of criticism to help the world discover interesting films, and while I would understand if our film was getting chastised across the board that they might be more reserved, to flat out reject us simply because we’re not in a theater is ridiculous. It’s not to say we’re the greatest indie of all time, but I’ll tell you it is bizarre knowing that the lower classes of filmmakers and critics are being completely ignored, even against all of these disasters being pumped out weekend after weekend. It’s the larger critics’ responsibility to find good movies. It’s movie criticism, not movie theater criticism. To think that in 2017 there are people who still believe that a movie going straight to Netflix or other streaming services is de facto a bad movie, or not worth their time is infuriating. So I think that needs to change and I think between you, and all these other online publications (whether they like “Road to the Well” or not) you are all serving an incredibly important mission. It may be cheaper to make movies, but it means more movies are being made, and you all are at the front line for discovering smaller films. National critics should be looking to websites like yours and others to try and discover good films; not waste their time in reviewing bad films.

Jon, where can folks contact you if they were curious about learning more about you or discovering what else is on the plate for your next movie project?

They can get a hold of me or check out news and updates on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram @RoadtotheWell, or our website roadtothewell.com. They can also check out my website yellowbarrel.org where I write about old and new films or follow me on Twitter @joncvack.

Final thought Jon: What kind of satisfaction do you take on a personal and professional level when it comes to your commitment in engaging the audience with your ambitious narratives?

I keep saying that getting the film out there is like being done with a five year marathon and wanting to just kiss the ground, but it also makes you terribly hungry to take all you learned and make another one. The next project is going to be a challenge, so I think the only satisfaction you receive is moving forward a little bit every day.

Well Jon it has been an interesting and insightful session in obtaining your feedback for the well-rounded “Road to the Well” and other matters that define your role as a spirited freelancer in filmmaking. Thank you so much for your undivided attention and here is wishing you all the best in your continued professional capacity as a filmmaker and committed student of artistic expression.

Thank you, Frank.