Wisconsin (MKE Premiere)
Running Time: 12 Minutes
Screening Time: 6:30pm Sept 5th
A comatose teen has five days to live. Follows 'reality' and 'dream world' as they both draw to the same end. An exploration in stories within stories, multiple levels of narrators, and being thoroughly silly.
Director Statement
Part of my focus for this project was the idea of stories within stories - an Inception of storytelling, if you will.
The act of telling a story is a simplification. You're summing up events that perhaps happened (or could happen) in order to communicate a message. Of course my film is quite silly, but the skeleton isn't, I hope. It's a progression of simplifications: the narrator tells a story where it's Telemundo General Hospital-esque, from there, Marty's mind tells a story even more basic in cartoonish cliches and talking paintings in almost exclusively odd-angle closeups, who, in turn, tell a story so simple that it has become just dancing shapes. Jiggling Christmas cookies being the Democritusian 'story-atom' that can not be further divided without ceasing to be a story. I would direct the reader to the works of Walter Benjamin - specifically his reflections of the works of Nikolai Leskov in The Storyteller for more in depth analysis of the concept of story versus information in the context of dinosaur-shaped Christmas cookies.
Production Notes
"Sensitive Metal"
While searching for a cheap guitar that I could drill into and basically destroy, and having exhausted craigslist, I stopped by Guitar Center on bluemound road.
There I met a large, harry metalhead-looking dude named "Mike V" whom I explained my plight to. He went into the back and brought out a dusty stringless number, telling me it was left on the microwave ten years ago by a band that used to play there.
When I asked him how much he wanted for it he said, "No, man. If it's for ART - you can just have it."
Don't judge a book by it's cover.
"Sensitive Metal"
While searching for a cheap guitar that I could drill into and basically destroy, and having exhausted craigslist, I stopped by Guitar Center on bluemound road.
There I met a large, harry metalhead-looking dude named "Mike V" whom I explained my plight to. He went into the back and brought out a dusty stringless number, telling me it was left on the microwave ten years ago by a band that used to play there.
When I asked him how much he wanted for it he said, "No, man. If it's for ART - you can just have it."
Don't judge a book by it's cover.
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