Not part of this year’s Queer Film Fest

Last term, I had the idea of making a short documentary about the rampant, insidious amount of sexual racism in the gay community in Vancouver. Unfortunately, taking five courses, working part-time, and trying to spend time sending out my writing didn’t allow for the many hours needed to make a documentary. Instead, I opted to write a personal essay about the subject (which I got an A+ on!). Because I wasn’t working on a film to submit to Out on Screen/Vancouver Queer Film Festival, I thought the doc would be a super idea.

But that didn’t happen. And as the deadline for submissions approaches, it’s kinda sad, at least for me, that I won’t be part of The Coast is Queer program this year, like I have been for the past five years. Every year, it’s been an amazing experience to stand in front of an audience and introduce a film that people paid to see. I can’t describe it. After last year’s QFF, I contemplated retiring from film and working more in writing, as it seemed that was a more fruitful avenue for my creative endeavours, but people advised me to keep making films while I write. It’s a lot of time, money, and effort to make a film, much more than writing, and while I would like to do both, realistically, it’s such a huge undertaking (did I mention the money?) that for the most part, I have to do myself. I wish I could, but I’m not sure it’s very sustainable.

So back to this year. Yeah, it’s a little sad that I won’t be seeing my name up on the website and I won’t be up on stage with other fantastic local filmmakers. I remember when I first sat in the audience at Tinseltown. It was minutes away from showtime.

“Are you nervous?” my friend Jacky asked me.

“No,” I responded.

A few minutes later. “Okay, now I’m nervous.”

I remember how fast my heart pounded as I watched On the Bus play, hearing people’s laughter, their “Awwww!” at the end of the film. And then hearing them clap after. It was surreal.

And then to return year after year with new films, some of which I had only recently completed before the screening (shhh, don’t tell anyone). I never felt like my films were guaranteed to get picked for The Coast is Queer program, so it was always a surprise and a delight when I got the email that they were.

I’ll miss that. I wonder if anyone will miss me and my films. I have no idea, since I’m not very popular. I guess I feel like it’s kind of like the end of an era, or the end of my film streak.

But maybe I’ll return next year with a brilliant film. Who knows.

Coast is Queer reviews? Anyone?

Having trouble trying to find anyone’s reactions/reviews to the wonderful short films at the Vancouver Queer Film Festival’s Coast is Queer last week. I’m super interested in hearing what people had to say about my film, June  (does that make me self-centered?)

Please comment, someoneeeeeeeeee…………..

Article about me and my film!

Look at me! I’m so cool.

http://gayvancouver.net/2013-vancouver-queer-film-fest/the-coast-is-queer-june-may-very-well-have-been-inspired-by-a-piano-playing-cat/

The Coast is Queer: June may very well have been inspired by a piano playing cat

A Vancouver Queer Film Festival veteran, June is the fifth short from Aaron Chan.  A silent drama, June tells the story of a ghost that tries to communicate with his still-alive lover by playing piano in the middle of the night.

A silent drama, June tells the story of a ghost that tries to communicate with his still-alive lover by playing piano in the middle of the night.

Tell us a little about yourself.

My name is Aaron Chan, and I am a musician/writer/filmmaker/creative writing student at UBC. Oh, and I’m a Sagittarius, if anyone was wondering.

Who were your early filmmaking mentors or inspirations?

I started out in film making documentary shorts as part of the Playing It Safe project, co-funded by the National Film Board. Terri Wynnyk, who was one of the organizers of the project and a filmmaker herself, first got me thinking deeply about being selective about images and how they support a story on screen.

I also love older, classic films. Billy Wilder is one of my favourite filmmakers of all time; his natural gift for dialogue and humour and telling a story is amazing. Fritz Lang, Buster Keaton, and Charlie Chaplin are also great at how they convey story and emotion with little to no words; I learned a lot of how to show, rather than tell, from silent films.

In terms of more modern filmmakers, I adore Wes Anderson’s sense of humour and the indie-feel of his films, Ang Lee’s grand visual style, and Hiyao Miyazaki because he’s just awesome and tells wonderful stories.

What inspired you to make June?

I woke up in the middle of the night one night and saw that the light on top of my piano was on. It could’ve been my cat, but I began thinking it was a ghost. When I couldn’t fall asleep again, because I was thinking about the ghost, I began constructing a story about why this ghost wanted to turn the light on and why it might want to play the piano. After that, the story came naturally to me and I when I grew attached to the script, I knew I had to try and get it made.

What challenges did you face while making June?

Oh god, what challenges didn’t we face while making this film? I think our biggest challenge was synching up everyone’s schedules to find a day that worked for everyone to film. Case in point: we had originally planned to shoot in December of 2011, but after many, many delays and difficulties, including finding someone with a piano that would let a crew mess around for a couple days we finally got to filming in July of 2012. More than half a year later, we finally filmed. Scheduling is definitely not my favourite thing to do.

What’s been the coolest experience so far with the film?

I actually finished the film only about a week [or two] ago, so it hasn’t really been anywhere. I’d say that the coolest experience with the film is having it screened at Out on Screen, for sure. Other than that, I think it’s really cool when the cast and the crew were able to relate so much to the emotion behind the film even though it’s a silent film, and it makes me, as a filmmaker and a storyteller, feel like I’m doing something right.

Are you a film festival newbie or have you had another film(s) at the Festival?

This is my fifth short film at the festival! I’m always surprised and excited every year to be a part of it.

What are you most excited to do and/or see at this year’s Queer Film Fest?

Honestly, I’m just really excited to see a lot of diverse queer films. The Lot in Sodom + Vintage Porn program is really interesting, especially since I do love older films (and vintage porn? I’m there!). I’ll also be attending the workshop with Michelle Tea (Book Your Own F**king Career) since as an artist, I need all the help I can get to ever live as one. I’m also planning to catch In the Name of and G.B.F. which looks like a lot of fun.

The Coast is Queer

Like previous years, I’ve chosen not to review the short films screened at the Coast is Queer program.  I will say, however, that I quite enjoyed this year’s lineup, and not just because I had a film in it.  I’m happy with the reception I got, and the only review I found online on the program said some nice things about my film, so Congrats to the filmmakers for another cool, quirky Coast is Queer year!

Here’s a link to Nicholas Demers’s review of The Coast is Queer, which may be of interest:

http://www.npdemers.net/blog/2012/08/vqff-review-the-coast-is-queer-3

Interview with me!

Mark Robbins, of gayvancouver.net, interviewed me a little while ago about my new film, Anniversary, which will be screening at the Queer Film Festival this year.  Check it out!

http://www.gayvancouver.net/2012-vancouver-queer-film-fest/for-filmmaker-aaron-chan-it-is-all-about-his-art

Filmmaker Aaron Chan is out to prove that anniversaries don’t have to be clichés in his new appropriately titled film Anniversary, which premieres at the 2012 Vancouver Queer Film Festival.

“Without giving too much away, everyone tries, or is supposed to do something special for their anniversary,” explains Chan. “In Anniversary, Jorge tries to do just that for his boyfriend. He thinks of typical, romantic things to do but realizes they’re not that great after all, and that it’s better to try and be creative and put a twist on old, clichéd ideas.”

Surprisingly given how the log line reads, this new film from the creator of Stay and Cure(d) is not a comedy.

“I wouldn’t actually call Anniversary a comedy, though I think some people might,” says Chan. “There might be comedic scenes, but overall, it’s a pretty simple drama.”

That isn’t to say Chan has anything against comedies: “My type of humour is wordplay and wit, and gay comedies, I find, just aren’t all that appealing to me because they rely on physical gags a lot. I’m just not sure I could ever be successful at writing a good gay comedy feature film, but maybe someday!”

Currently finishing a final edit that is his final project for a photography course he took at Langara College, Chan admits that he is having a difficult time putting his finger on his inspiration for Anniversary.

“I think I had this idea about romantic gestures kicking around my head for a while, and once I wrote it out and realized it was only a two-page script with no dialogue, I saw the potential to try out some of the tricks I learned in class,” says Chan. “Although this isn’t an experimental film in the sense of it being an art film, I do consider Anniversary to be experimental for me as a photographer and a filmmaker. It’s an exercise in photographic and videographic skills.”

With Anniversary complete, Chan is now looking towards his next projects including a ghost story that just wrapped a couple of weeks ago. But while filmmaking will remain part of his life, Chan says it is taking a back seat as he focuses more on writing.

“Earlier this year, I had two short stories published, a romance short story, and a creative non-fiction story about being gay and out in high school. In the fall, I’m going to UBC full-time in the Creative Writing program,” he says.

Besides, with several films including the critically acclaimed On The Bus under his belt, Chan says he wants to be able to have more control over the treatment that his scripts receive.

“I value my stories and my scripts much more than I used to, so any script that I’m going to turn into a film must be made the best it can be. You only get one go at it, and anything less than what I imagine it to be isn’t good enough. I have to treat my vision of my stories with care and respect because they should be treated that way. It’s not about being egotistical, it’s about the art. It always comes down to the art.”

Starting from scratch: looking at filmmaking from a different view

I know I haven’t posted in a few days, and I have to write reviews for Gen Silent as well as the Closing Gala film, Different From Whom? but after last night, things have changed a bit.

Although I wasn’t expecting to win either of the two awards of the evening, of course I would’ve liked to.  I knew Jason Karman and his fantastic short I’m in the Mood for Love was going to win the Gerry Brunet Award, but the Hot Pink Shorts Award was still up in the air.  At the same time though, my sister told me that it’s really a popularity contest since the award is voted by audiences, and since I’m fairly unpopular, it didn’t surprise me when it turned out to be a three-way tie between Mette Bach’s B.A.B.S. which was clearly an audience favourite, and two other shorts.

I’ve been frustrated and have a love-hate relationship with these awards– yes, they are a fantastic opportunity to local filmmakers and I’ve so happy and glad they even exist.  At the same time, the Gerry is usually given to a film that looks great overall and ostensibly was made with some sort of budget.  But it’s a catch-22: how do you get the money to make a great film when  you have no budget to make the film that would help you make the great film?  I’ve been lucky enough to make two short films with virtually no budget and though I’m satisfied with the final films, I can’t help but feel like they’re B-list, average movies.  Sure, money would’ve helped but I didn’t have any sources of funding and I had to make-do with the resources and people available, and I’m grateful for everyone that’s helped me along the way.

But after last night, I felt like I needed to change my entire process of filmmaking and how I look at films.  Stay and Cure(d) were both simple shorts that I quickly put together and submitted to the Queer Film Fest, but I have other scripts that are more complex, more artistic that I don’t want to throw together quickly and submit.  I’ve thought of a few things I want to change for future projects:

1.  Take your time.

Like I said, I made the two mentioned films above in a hurry because of the deadlines, and though they’re good as they are since they’re simple, I want to really take my time with my next film planning everything– and I mean everything– out.  I want every shot to mean something; I want my actors to have rehearsed plenty before the shoot; I want to explore different angles and transitions with my cinematographer; and most importantly, I don’t want to feel pressured to finish something in time for the festival.

2.  Research shooting formats.

I’ve been shooting on digital for my last two shorts, mainly because it’s convenient and easy to handle.  But I want to take the time to look at other formats, like film, that show different textures and give the film a different feel.  I want to use format as a way to create atmosphere and mood instead of relying on dialogue or lighting, but using format to enhance it further.

3.  Find a producer.

So many times, I’ve tried to find funding sources but more likely than not, they require the applicant to not be an undergrad student, and despite the fact that I’ve graduated from Vancouver Film School with a background in film, it doesn’t seem to matter since I’m still a student at the moment.  What would really help is finding someone I can trust to help fund my film, who would aid in assisting the process.  I’ve never put down any producing credit for any of my films because, frankly, it wasn’t made with any money, and there wasn’t really a producer.

I also am now willing to spend money to make my films, now that I have a job.  I’m willing to go and rent cameras, lights, equipment to see that the project is given the proper artistic respect as it’s realized.  It’s all within reason though.  I have to research all of that.

If anyone out there is remotely interested in doing some producing work or knows of someone who might be willing to help me, let me know!

4. Network?

I’m not the social type.  I don’t go up to random people and just start chatting away, which may be my downfall.  I’m just a quiet, kind of shy guy making movies and getting into an industry that is heavily relient on extroverted, charismatic people who know how to talk to other people.  It’s who I am, and I can’t help it.  I think I just need to man-up and go and talk with strangers.

For a few years, I was writing songs and going out and performing around the city.  It was a great time and I felt like it was what I really wanted to do for a while.  But then I started feeling like it wasn’t working– after shows, people would go and talk with the performers while I sort of loitered around awkwardly.  I don’t know if no one simply wanted to talk to me or if it was because I was the only piano player while everyone else was a guitarist but eventually, I realized that I probably was never going to have the level of success and popularity that I wanted for myself.  So I turned to filmmaking.

And now I’m starting to feel the same way.

I don’t feel as bad because I’ve gotten a lot more support than I did with my music, especially from the folks from Out on Screen and the Queer Film Festival (the awesome and lovely Amber Dawn in particular who keeps surprising me by being incredibly supportive) and I feel like I’m reaching a lot more people by making films than with music.  But there’s always that fear in my mind: what if all I’m going to be is an average, B-list filmmaker who comes to the Queer Film Fest every year and nothing happens?  What if this is as good as it will ever get?

I know.  If I don’t try, I’ll never know.  To parallel another event, I’m a super fan of Vanessa Carlton.  After her third album, she sat down and thought about her process of music, songwriting, and recording.  Eventually, she went to the English countryside and wrote and recorded her next, entirely self-financed album.  She said everything was organic and was exactly the kind of record she wanted to make.  Every lyric in every song was thought out carefully and went through drafts.

And I guess I feel that way too.  After Cure(d), I think I need to sit down and think for a while, to look at every possible option out there that would help me make the best possible film.

As usual, I welcome any thoughts anyone might have.  In the meantime, I’ll be sending out Cure(d) around to festivals and seeing how that goes.

Finally, I just want to quickly thank everyone who’s ever supported me in anything creative I’ve done.  It’s helped me more than you’ll ever know.

Interview with gayvancouver.net

For the upcoming premiere of my short film, Cure(d) at the Vancouver Queer Film Festival tomorrow, I did an interview with Mark Robins at gayvancouver.net about filmmaking, my short, and my decision to become a reluctant director:

http://www.gayvancouver.net/2011-vancouver-queer-film-festival/aaron-chan-has-a-skewed-view-of-the-world