Filmstack (and Winestack) Inspiration Challenge Day 58: Surprise
Wherever the love of surprise and discovery dominates, that is where I want to be.
Brief Intro
For my wine readers who might not know: Substack is spawning a fast-growing and incredibly supportive film community (now dubbed FilmStack), particularly for indie filmmakers (now dubbed NonDē, for non-dependent).
FilmStackers were tasked by Ted Hope with a daily challenge to share their inspirations - this has been running for over a month, and today is my turn. The full archive and list of upcoming posts is here, and the new target is 200 days, so DM if you want to jump on!
For my post today, I found that my inspiration held true for both my passion for film AND my passion for wine! So this is going to double as an inspiration post for BOTH.
I have long realized that my two passions share a lot in common. Wine and Movies: both industries wherein you’re likely to spend more money than you make; wherein you’re likely to make the product because you love it and believe it to be art; wherein no amount of preparation can actually prepare you - for every project, every film, every wine, you have to show up, and then reality, trial, and error are going to dictate what you can birth into being.
It’s no different for the consumer of the product: we show up to every movie, pop that cork on every bottle, only to be surprised by what we experience. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse; maybe it’s our thing, maybe it isn’t. But if the thing is made with authenticity, by real people crafting real things, there is always suprise.
Filmmakers themselves are constantly surprised, it doesn’t matter how micro-managing they are, how perfectionist their prep: Richard Kelly had fully envisioned his feature film debut, Donnie Darko, long before cameras rolled. Everyone who worked with him on that film had the same thing to say: he knew what he wanted. Even for a first-time director, he had it locked down.
But then: cameras started to roll. Sets didn’t cooperate with his envisioned “oners” (long single takes.) Music rights were unaffordable. The camera they used couldn’t get the desired lighting right. The goddamned airplane engine wouldn’t fit into the set they build for it. One of the most memorable shots of the movie (camera titling up to the chandelier, then down to a door closing, never seeing Donnie actually leave) was just the DP trying to solve a daylight problem.
I recently met an Australian winemaker who told me how they planted an entire vineyard of Semillon (a white skinned French grape.) The second year, half the vineyard had mutated to Semillon Gris (gray/pink skinned) so they made an orange wine out of that half. The next year, the Gris mutated back to white and the white half of the vineyard suddenly mutated to Gris, the whole vineyard essentially switching sides!
You show up, and make art out of whatever reality gives you. It’s always a surprise. It’s always a process of discovery.
Whether you’r a winemaker or a filmmaker, you have a vision inside your head, a sense of some kind of “perfection”, a Platonic ideal of whatever you’re driven to make. You can see it, hear it, smell it, taste it. But some deep down part of you knows: that isn’t what you’re going to make. It may be what you’re striving for, but you know you can’t snap your fingers and bring this into the world, not without it metaphorically being caked in blood and fluid and screaming as though it’s dying.
And in most cases, being the maker - film or wine - is where everyone gets to be a metaphorical male. It’ll be other people’s blood and fluid the thing will be caked in, while you observe, project confidence, and try not to vomit.
There is something about being a maker that demands a fascination and even desire for surprise and discovery. If you aren’t drawn to this, or learn to love it in short time, disillusionment and frustration will quickly have you walking away, to find another purpose in life. Sometimes, a Stanley Kubrick gets to exist and force their cast and crews do a single take hundreds if not thousands of times to get his vision just so. Or a Michael Cimino who not only ruined his own career but near single-handedly brought down the American “auteur era” of the 70’s with his vise-like grip on perfectionism.
Because, I would argue, that isn’t how art is supposed to be made. It’s meant to be a journey. A series of surprises.
The Flipside (My Truest Inspiration)
Which brings me to the one thing that truly, deeply inspires me: not creator surprise, but the flipside of that coin - audience surprise.
All films and wines will come with a certain level of surprise, some more than others. But there are few things that bore me quicker that reading a list of “Top Whatever” - directors, films, books, comics, albums, or wines - that consist of nothing but culturally pervasive, recognizable brand names.
It’s one thing if this list is meant to be what we consider, communally, as the most influential. But when that list is supposed to be personal? The things that left the greatest impact on you, and have stuck with you ever since? Then I don’t want to see more than 1 or 2 items that are Speilberg, Tarantino, Scorcese, either Anderson, Coppola, etc. or the obvious Burgundy, expensive Napa, German Reisling, or Peidmonte or Toscana Italian Red. I have no doubt something big brand and/or ubiquitously celebrated authentically influenced all of us and left an indelible mark early on…but what about after? What have you discovered on your own steam outside of the sphere of influencers and tastemakers?
What truly excites me are obscure finds that people - myself included - dredge up and become infatuated by. What inspires me is finding pockets of fandom where small but dedicated groups share their deepest joy of a product that the majority of the world isn’t even aware exists.
wrote yesterday, in Filmstack Inspiration Challenge #57, of how he discovered the band The Candyskins from a documentary, and became so enthralled with the musicians that he eventually was in a position to give the docuumentarian a Britbox original docu-series, largely because he was already a fan. Of a doc most of us probably didn’t even know existed.
I’m inspired by stories and anecdotes like this. By boutique film distribtion labels such as Arrow, Shout Factory, Terrcotta, 88Films, and especially Golden Ninja Video which distributes forgotten or DIY films that never found distribution, essentially in the public domain, but gives these works the full boutique label treatment in terms of remastering and extras. Additional ultra-indie content distributors include MUBI and Kinema (who are also here on Substack -
by !)I’m inspired by arthouse cinemas and microcinemas like
, special screenings and local, affordable film festivals. I’m inspired whenever I stumble across a movie I’d never heeard of, had no idea was even in the works let alone been made. Back in the day, the movies that struck me the hardest where the complete stabs in the dark. I’d find them on video rental shelves or even, occassionally, when I’d journey outside my confort zone at a theater - watching a pure drama, rom com, or obscure older work for no other reason than that it was what was playing at the day/hour I could commit to. Not that I struck gold every single time I did these things, but they became movies that I discovered, me, all on my own, without prompting or suggestions from anyone else.I live right near LACMA, yet hardly ever go there. But one night, maybe 10 years back, they were screening a movie called Uptight. Directed by Jules Dassin (whose films I’d never seen) and written by and starring one Julian Mayfield, in his one and only acting role. The film blew me away and remains, to this day, on my personal Top 5 Films of All Time list. Baack then, it was unavailable anywhere else, but has since been released on Blu ray and streaming (and I own it in both formats now.) I also researched star Mayfield, and tracked down and purchased his 3 novels (all out of print!) I’ve read 2. Savoring that third and final.
1This is the kind of surprise and discovery I’m talking about. I have long been convinced that this is the most personal, most valuable, and the most rewarding of all interactions with any kind of art. It’s no surprise (ha) that I’ve become as passionate about wine in my mid-life years, as the vast majority of wine bottles, in terms of unique labels, are produced locally, small lot, via artisnal and authentic methods. When you enter a small wine shop or wine bar, you’ll likely recoginze precious little there - it’ll all be a curated selection amongst over 100,000 different wineries worldwide.
This is why you see the same wines whenever you go to the big box places like Target, the grocery store, BevMo, or even Total Wine - there simply aren’t that many wine brands big enough to fill that many shelves, so you’ll constantly see the same labels. But step one step outside these most massive of big box stores?
Suddenly, you’ll recognize nothing.
And folks, that lights me up. Every time.
Similarly, it’s important to step outside of the multiplexes, the major studios, the major festivals, even the major distributors and production companies.
Imagine stepping into a video store and reognizing literally nothing there. Not one movie. It’s possible to fill such a store up. Some streaming services are already this, and not because they’re filled with throwaway slop (the wine world calls this “plonk”, and I like that, I think I’ll use that for films, too.)
Everyone has to decide what constituts “plonk” to them. That latest $250M streaming cookie-cutter blockbuster likely falls under this banner. But we also have to ask ourselves: should F1: THE MOVIE not be considered plonk? Should JURASSIC PARK 7? Should we give these movies a pass just because they were released in theaters?
We live in an attention economy as well as a capitalist one, so what we give our hard earned money to matters as much as what we give our eyeballs and viewing time to. Do we want more F1 and JP7? Or do we want studio dollars to be put into something else? It’s up to us to send the signal of what we most value, what we want more of in this world. If we spend most of our time trying to be part of “cultural conversations”, the culture will continue to calcify in those directions. If we spend more of our time seeking out the new, the unknown, the unheard of, the surprises, then we’re voting to make more space, and curate more resources for those.
The role of a sommelier is to help you discover new wines. They don’t need to justify what you already like, or fight you on what you’ve already tried and rejected. They’re there to offer you your best bet at experiencing surprise and discovery without being disappointed. We have programmers in the film world that do the same, those who figure what we should be paying attention to, what should be in theaters, on streaming services, in festivals.
But in both cases, we can only get so far by following other people’s curations. We have to strike out on our own as often as not, we have to be our own source of discovery, our own engine driving us to the next surprise.
I hope this post inspires you to get out of your comfort zones more, to seek out and consume more obscure films, shows, and wines. To find your personal surprises, that mean more - on a personal basis - than any shared (or overly shared) culture experience can.
“A commitment to a vision that is not your own, is more impressive than a commitment to a vision that is your own.”
—filmmaker Chris Winterbauer (Wyrm, Moonshot), speaking about producers, cast, below the line crew, and all those who support a filmmaker’s ambition
Obviously someone programmed the film or bought it for the store shelf, but there was no direct line of third party influence between the thing and my own curiosity, and/or “fuck it why not”?” decision in that moment.
Hell no, we don't need another JP7 or the like! Here's to being INTENTIONAL with our viewing choices. I have more titles on #ToWatch list that I will ever get to within the life expectancy for me of my BMI... even if I maintain my current rate of consumption (of movies that is). We have a wonderful abundance of great films (including those that are great bad ones!).