WANDER, WONDER, WILDERNESS: An interview with Director Paul Turano

By Sarah Wolfe

When filmmaker Paul Turano was growing up in rural Connecticut, he spent endless hours playing in forests, lying in fields gazing at the clouds above, and looking for signs of the land’s history in weathered stone walls. Years later, he moved to Boston’s urban environment with its tall buildings and bustling crowds—a transition he calls “overwhelming.” Turano quickly found himself escaping to green spaces within the city as he sought to reclaim the sense of calm renewal nature gave him as a child. In doing this, he discovered the value of Boston’s urban wilds—and that he wasn’t alone in the need to connect with them.

Turano has since created WANDER, WONDER, WILDERNESS, a multi-platform, interactive documentary project. With it, he asks us to explore the relationships between humans, community and nature. And, to discover the potential impact of urban wilds and green spaces as an antidote to our de-natured lives.

Salem Film Fest Writer Sarah Wolfe recently spoke with Turano about his unique project which, in a surprising way, uses technology to encourage us to reconnect with nature in our everyday lives.

Sarah Wolfe: First let me just say that watching your film was like strolling along a country road on a summer’s day. It has this flowing, meditative pace to it.

Paul Turano: I was definitely trying to put people in the mindset of contemplation and observation. It’s almost like you need to train the audience to slow down a little bit, which is challenging. For the subject matter, though, it made a lot of sense.

The whole idea for this film started when I changed my definition of what qualifies as nature. I think a lot of us have this idealistic, pristine vision of raw, unadulterated landscapes. That hardly exists any more. When you begin to think about it more in terms of organic material and of how the space is created to evoke the sensibilities of nature, you become more open to thinking about defining a green space in an urban context as a nature reserve.

SW: You also touch upon the idea of looking for signs of history within Boston’s urban wilds.

PT: If you keep your eyes open for the right clues you can see how previous generations might’ve used the land—industrial to nature reserve or vice versa. It puts us in touch with a continuum. Different eras also had different conceptions of what public space was meant for. For example, the Boston Common was used as pastures for livestock before the Public Garden was built on part of it as a way to enjoy nature. We’re coming back to that late 19th century philosophy of needing these green spaces if we’re going to manage how an urban context affects us. The Rose Kennedy Greenway is a great example. There was a time where that could’ve been developed into something completely different when they were doing the Big Dig.

SW: It’s interesting that you’ve added an interactive element to your film with a mobile app and website–using technology to promote nature when they’re polar opposites. At what point did your documentary evolve into a multi-platform project?

PT: While I was visiting places and doing research for the film, I went to Walden Pond. I walked out to the original site of Henry David Thoreau’s cabin and there I discovered a pile of rocks that had been moved off the trail. People had written Thoreau-inspired comments on the various stones and left them behind to inspire others. Because the space is so wrapped up in the Thoreau mystique, it’s like his spirit is still informing how people are interpreting their experiences with that space. I saw how those rocks were geocached and how the place prompted visitors to consider certain things. I thought, “Wouldn’t it be cool if you could do this virtually? Provide a little contextual information for a green space and give people prompts to create something that responds to the space?” I brought in the technology folks and we developed the ideas for a mobile app. It would be something that helped people locate a space, gave them guidance for looking at the landscape or greenspace in a certain way, and then asked them for a creative response about their experience. They could leave behind a personal account through the mobile app and website so others could find it virtually. We wanted it to be a creative tool, a lifestyle app that could increase the frequency of visits to Boston’s green spaces.

SW: Given people are in these spaces with the mobile app, at what point do they disconnect to fully engage with nature?

PT: The app is just a lure to get folks to a place in Boston’s urban wilds and to help them focus their attention on a particular aspect of the green space they might’ve overlooked. Once they have their prompts, we encourage people to put their device away and engage with the space for a while. Then they can pick it up again to document what they experienced. In this case, we want people to see technology as a creative tool. Aside from being a way to surf the web, the thing in your hand is also a camera, sound recorder and writing tablet.

SW: It reminds me of the field journals and diaries people used to keep.

PT: Exactly. And in this case, when you share that experience virtually it creates the feeling that you’re part of a special endeavor by allowing you to connect with people who are having like-minded experiences.

SW: One last question. Do you have any favorite places in Boston’s urban wilds that you like to visit?

PT: The Arnold Arboretum is within walking distance of my house and is a huge, endless place filled with things to discover. I visit frequently and bring my kids there. It’s one of the Olmstead parks, so the design is sophisticated and doesn’t feel man-made. In making this film, I also discovered tons of places I always wanted to go to but never knew about. One of them is Spectacle Island out in the Boston Harbor. It’s a by-product of the Big Dig and part of the National Parks system. The first time I went there I was astonished at how close it was to the city and yet how far away you felt. The island has a complex history. It’s now a nature reserve and it was built up with the soil from the Big Dig to make it bigger than its original footprint. They covered a landfill that was there in the mid-20th century and did remediation. There’s a beach and a beautiful set of trails and also historical plaques. You can hike up to the top of the two man-made hills on the island and look back at the city. It’s this amazingly existential view where you’re in this pristine nature reserve but looking at this gigantic megalopolis with the airport and harbor and city skyline. It’s an undiscovered gem. 

MUGSHOT with Filmmaker Dennis Mohr

By Candice Seplow

In 2010 at a rest stop in New York, Dennis Mohr discovered the nation's hottest weekly crime newspaper, The Slammer, which would stay in his possession for an entire year until he picked it up again. The newspaper's theme, which was dedicated to presenting the most entertaining mug shots to the public, made it clear to Mohr what his next documentary film would revolve around: the history of photographing them. Mohr dedicates his inventiveness to the art of photography and a chance for him to “try something new” and “quirky.” Mohr's next move began with him assembling a production crew and researching candidates that would feature in the documentary.

As a media technician for a broadcast company in Toronto, Mohr became familiar with the techniques of an older generation's style of producing film. He and his crew traveled in a van across North America for a year capturing footage, not realizing that they would also capture each other’s friendship. Mohr describes the friendships that have come from filming the documentary as his most memorable experience, “. . .if it wasn't for the friends who dedicated themselves to producing, filming and editing the film, there wouldn't be a film . . . there isn't just one producer behind making a film. It's really a crew of producers.” It is unfortunate that documentaries typically have little financial gain, but to Mohr he sees the friendships that he has gained along the way of much higher value.

A “small” film, it was to Mohr's surprise that what he refers to as the “whacked out subject” of MUGSHOT would gain so much attention. An adventure that began the moment that he picked up The Slammer led Mohr to capture a genre of art that is respectful to both the viewers and those being viewed. Skillfully transferring from one scene to another using the slide reel effect, the film has the feeling of being viewed through the lens of the person photographing each mug shot. Before handing the footage off to the editor, Mohr's only directions were “don't make it boring and don't make it too long.” What resulted is a captivating 52-minute film that tells the story of 4 people who appreciate the art form of the mug shot and their curiosity about the story behind them.

MUGSHOT screens at the PEM Bartlett Gallery on Saturday, March, 7 at 2:00 p.m.
 Q&A with Dennis Mohr to follow.

10 Reasons to Check Out Salem Film Fest 2015

By Nicholas Papa

The 8th annual Salem Film Fest has begun! Here are 10 reasons why you should make your way to downtown Salem and check it out:

1. It is among ‘the best.’ Last fall, Boston Globe Magazine named Salem Film Fest one of the “35 Ways to Love a New England Winter” and North Shore Magazine readers deemed it “Best Spring Festival” the 2014 Best of the North Shore (BONS) campaign. With screenings at the North Shore’s beloved CinemaSalem and the world-class Peabody Essex Museum, the festival offers a respite from winter and the opportunity to experience some of the “best of” the region.

2. Making History. In its 8th year, the festival has grown to become one of the largest all-documentary festivals in the country, and continues to grow both in programming and audiences each year. Come to the festival and be part of history in the making!

3. Interact with the actual filmmakers. Salem Film Fest attracts filmmakers from all over the world that not only come to the festival to showcase their work but also stay for engaging and thought-provoking Q&As with their audience.  In addition to film screenings, there are opportunities to mingle with filmmakers at local cafes, weekend “after” parties and the intimate filmmakers breakfast at Caffe Graziani.

4. Salem Sketches. These quirky, homegrown, short documentaries are produced by the festival's filmmakers-in-residence and are love letters to everything that makes Salem, Salem. This year’s crop features five originals and five that were incubated in the  “Salem Sketches Hot Tub Time Machine.”

5. Festive Windows. Sponsored by Salem Main Streets, many downtown shops have dressed up their windows in support of the festival. Using posters, film reels, popcorn, and other props, these spirited local merchants have created some intriguing designs. In between films wander around town to check out their window displays, and be sure to share your favorites with us on social media!

6. Downtown Salem. With one of the areas most vibrant and walkable downtowns, Salem is chock full of unique shops, museums and a wide variety of cafes and restaurants. So come for a film - or two - and stay for dinner!

7. Global Meatballs.  Salem native Adeline Lutts Myers explores the world one meatball at a time in her new cookbook Global Meatballs. Salem is celebrating National Meatball Day with a pop-up foodie fest featuring some of Myers’ signature meatballs. This yummy food fest will run throughout the entire festival with the following restaurants participating: Bella Verona, Adriatic Restaurant and Bar, Cilantro, Firenze Trattoria, Finz Seafood and Grill, Hawthorne Hotel, and Opus.

8. Mass Reality Check. This awesome competition features films written, shot and directed by Massachusetts based college students and gives audiences a sneak peak at the early work of some of the next generation of filmmakers.

9. Camaraderie. Whether in the theatre, at the café between films or waiting in line, there is always someone new to meet and friends to be made.

10. The Films! With the largest line up in Salem Film Fest history, the featured documentaries have something for everyone: art and music; contemporary political and social issues; gender and sexuality; environment and conservation; social justice. These moving films provide you with the opportunity to see the world with fresh eyes and maybe even leave the festival as a changed person.

STRAY DOG: An interview with Director Debra Granik

By Sarah Wolfe

In a small, rural Missouri town lives a man called Ron “Stray Dog” Hall. This Vietnam War veteran is tattooed, leather-clad and a bona fide biker. He runs a trailer park with his wife, Alicia, who recently emigrated from Mexico. Upon first appearances, he’s a tough guy through and through. As Debra Granik’s intimate and powerful documentary reveals, however, there are far more layers to this protagonist. A compassionate soul, he still struggles more than 40 years later to make peace with his combat experience. He always helps out his friends and neighbors. And, you can find him attending military memorials and offering support to his fellow veterans.

When Alicia’s teenaged sons arrive, it creates an even more vivid and tender portrait of a family and a community living on the fringes of society, doing what it takes to survive. Also, we are offered a very real account of the long-term effects of war on our veterans.

Salem Film Fest Writer Sarah Wolfe recently caught up with Debra Granik, Academy Award-nominated director of WINTER’S BONE, to discuss her newest work, STRAY DOG. Here they talk about rural America, veterans and the compelling main character of her documentary.

Sarah Wolfe: This was such a great film. So much humanity to it. When it ended, I was craving to know more about the future of Ron’s family.

Debra Granik: Thank you! We had a lot of trouble knowing when to stop! We actually went down and filmed three months later when Alicia’s sons had learned enough English to land jobs. We could make a sequel with all the footage we shot; show how being in America is no longer new to them and they’re now learning how to survive like Ron and his community.

SW: You met Ron while preparing to film WINTER’S BONE. What was your first impression of him?

DG: I was sitting in a pew at this biker’s church scouting for local people. My very first impression was this massive arm with this blonde-grey fur and embedded in it the word “Vietnam” tattooed into the skin. It made me think, “What’s his story? Why is that word on this man’s arm?” I knew what the reference was, but I wanted to know what it meant to him. What part of American history does his life cover and what themes does it touch on? When I approached him afterward in the parking lot he was super friendly—not at all put off by a stranger coming up to him. At that point I was able to explain why we were there and asked if he’d be willing to read the script and book. Not only was he was willing, he was on time and he was so articulate. I asked if he’d consider auditioning for WINTER’S BONE. He thought it was a far-out idea, but his attitude was, “Yeah, if it’s not hurting anyone, why not?” He’s very open to trying new things.

I appreciated that biker culture gave Ron life experience about how men settle things. It’s actually almost chivalrous, with seemingly ancient clannish protocols like giving someone a dress down. Confrontations are handled through steps to stave off fighting. He was no stranger to that so I thought he could bring integrity and some oomph to the role. He gave it a good shot and drew in his friends and neighbors to the film which was very helpful.

SW: And what compelled you to make a documentary about Ron?

DG: After the film, I went to say goodbye to him and all the materials and humanistic things in his life—his dogs, his bikes, his neighbors—were all right there in front of me. It was like I was being handed another story. This one was about scrappy survivors navigating life. Unless you live in an RV park or come from a similar background, you probably drive by places like Ron’s all the time. It’s a rare moment when you’re invited in. We started off filming a lot of things about the management of the place. We knew the veteran’s ride to D.C. was important to him, but then we realized that was like an actual pilgrimage. That gave me and my editor/producer, Victoria Stewart, a strong sense of direction. We saw there was plenty to work with and Ron was willing; that we could create a rich portrait.

SW: How long did you spend filming Ron’s family and community?

DG: Our first shoot was in 2010 and our last in 2013. We had to schedule trips to stay for a while. In between those gaps we had a local shooter grab footage of one-day things we wanted to capture but couldn’t be there for—like military funerals that weren’t planned. Ron would call us and say he was heading to a memorial and our local camera person would follow him.

SW: It’s so interesting in STRAY DOG to see Vietnam vets like Ron talking to more recent vets about PTSD. That wasn’t something that was recognized back when Ron was a young veteran himself. How long has he been offering free counsel to fellow veterans, encouraging them to seek treatment?

DG: When we met Ron, he had only started helping others like that in the past seven years. That happened much later in life for him as with many other men from his generation. PTSD was first mentioned around 1982, but there wasn’t really treatment available for Vietnam-era veterans. Then people like Fred, one the film’s younger veterans, came of age after it’d been officially recognized and could talk about it much more openly. Ron himself received an intervention from other veterans who were traveling through his RV park. In their very manly way, they said, “Dude, we’re a lot like you. With all due respect, brother, we think you have a problem.” He was so reluctant because so many people of that generation didn’t want to go down to the VA and meet with some white coat. But there’s been a big paradigm shift in the VA where they now have counseling centers, which are very different from the hospitals. It’s so much less medicalized and more humanistic. The biggest difference is combat vets perform the counseling versus med school-trained shrinks. We see Ron’s therapist in the film. He himself wasn’t a combat vet but he was a biker, which Ron could identify with. Though he doesn’t like going, Ron respects the value of those counseling sessions.

SW: What did Ron think of this film? Were you able to show it to his family and community?

DG: Ron’s had some really wonderful experiences with people who loved the film. He’s been enjoying travelling on the circuit with it. I really wish he could come to Massachusetts.  The neighbors really liked it a lot, too. And Alicia’s boys thought the whole thing was a hoot. Ultimately they enjoyed being acknowledged and it wasn’t lost on them that they were sort of emo, cosmopolitan guys who really stuck out in a rural country town with rough-hewn dudes.

SW: They certainly saw firsthand that America isn’t this mythic land of wealth and opportunity as it’s often portrayed.

DG: Absolutely. Oh, and as far as reactions, I will say the bikers with the organization that sponsored the Washington, D.C. pilgrimage ride were leery and a bit freaked about us filming. They kept saying, “You got to understand our era. We hate the image that’s been created about the gnarly, difficult vet and we’re filled with piss and vinegar about the potential of being exploited. How do we know we’re not going to get thrown under the bus again like it’s been done so many times?” Also, I think they were concerned with maintaining the mystique of the biker and their overall privacy. It was hard as a documentarian to feel all that suspicion even though it was completely understandable. We ended up arranging the filming by making it clear we were following Ron and not speaking for or making an assessment of their organization or all veterans. This was just about Ron and his experiences within his veteran community.

SW: What do you ultimately hope audiences carry away from this film?

DG: That it’s worthy as a culture to always be asking ourselves what the costs are to people who participate in America’s wars. What does that look like over time? There have been so many recent strong films about the experiences of soldiers—especially of Iraqi and Afghani vets. This is the more longitudinal look where we’re seeing many more years that have gone by since the Vietnam conflict. This film was also made in the spirit of capturing a generation that won’t be here forever. We can’t close our ears. The history of the Vietnam War and the legacy of that generation is still something we need to know about.

Lastly, STRAY DOG is about acknowledging that when you meet a certain kind of person you wouldn’t normally talk to, and the two of you are willing to have a dialogue, you’ll probably discover they have many layers and a story to tell. That’s why I yearn for and enjoy doing portraits of the lives of ordinary Americans.

Returning Filmmakers Share Lessons Learned Behind the Camera

By Kristin D’Agostino

Whether telling the story of a missing child, a Chinese theme park, or life in a secluded Alaskan village, three Salem Fest filmmakers returning this year all share a common trait. Suki Hawley, Mak CK and Nick Brandestini are all master storytellers who love exploring uncommon themes and are not afraid to ask deep and- sometimes controversial - questions.  They return this year with exciting new insights to share with Salem audiences.

Fans of Suki Hawley’s 2012 film BATTLE FOR BROOKLYN, which she co-directed with husband Michael Galinsky, will no doubt enjoy hearing the New York based filmmaker discuss her new film WHO TOOK JOHNNY, co-directed with Galinsky and David Beilinson,  which explores the infamous thirty-year-old case of missing child Johnny Gosch. Hawley’s last film told the story of a man fighting to save his neighborhood from a developer. The two films are similar – Hawley says - in that they both showcase main characters who fight hard for something they believe in against incredible odds.

“In the end, while success isn’t obvious, the person has done the right things and succeeds personally,” she said.

Mak CK’s last film- THE WORLD’S MOST FASHIONABLE PRISON, which came to Salem in 2013, told the story of a fashion designer who runs a fashion rehabilitation workshop in a Philippine prison.  His new film, LITTLE PEOPLE BIG DREAMS, tells the story of ‘Dwarves Empire’, a Chinese theme park where dozens of little people perform for anyone who pays a $16 entrance fee. Mak CK said that the documentaries are similar because they both throw a spotlight on communities that are largely misunderstood.

“I hope that both films allow viewers to challenge their own perceptions and prejudices,” he said.

Nick Brandestini, a filmmaker based in Zurich, Switzerland last came to Salem in 2012 to discuss his film DARWIN, which offered audiences a glimpse into an isolated community in Death Valley, California.   Brandestini says that though the stories differ in style - the first shot in vignettes without a story-line, the latest delving more deeply into people’s stories - they share some common traits. Both reveal life within fascinating communities and are full of beautiful imagery of nature.  “The first film was about the desert. The new one is about the tundra, whiteness, snow.”

Brandestini said he was drawn to his subject:  Five Native Alaskan teenagers coming of age in Barrow, Alaska- because of the area’s ancient traditions and remote nature. “Lonely Planet said about Barrow there’s nothing to see there,” Brandestini said. “I’m a curious person. I like to experience places like this where not many people go.”

As expected, filming their latest documentaries offered ma insights and challenges for the three filmmakers.  Mak CK said of filming ‘Dwarves Empire,’ the little people theme park:  “I wrestled with how I felt about it during the making of the film.  I’ve come to realize morality comes in different shades of grey…”

Suki Hawley learned a more somber lesson in talking with Johnny’s mother, Noreen Gosch, who has fought tirelessly to uncover the true story behind her son’s disappearance.

“This world is very creepy and somewhat corrupt,” she said.

According to Nick Brandestini, Alaska proved a wonderful training ground for coping with life’s unpredictable nature.

“Every year the Alaskans go whaling in the springtime at a certain time when the ice breaks off so they can walk out on it and get close to the whales. This happens at a different time every year.  While making this film, I had to learn to let go and take things as they come. I learned to become a relaxed person.”