
I couldn't decide what to call this blog, and in a somewhat noncommittal fashion, went with both options.
As it turns out, in a decidedly inconvenient manner, my imagination is spinning nearly out of control. Inconvenient in the sense that it is currently 1:47 in the am. Compounding this situation is the reality that in the morning the supreme creativity I feel to be in current possession of, will no doubt have vanished, or worse still, linger but the morning light will illuminate it for what it is, that is, somewhat less supreme than I gage it to be.
Be that as it may, I have been running the film in my head, playing it over in slow-mo, in black and white different characters, with no characters, as freely and fruitfully as my imagination will allow. I feel like I've transcended the initiatory, introductory stage with the film, forging rapidly an excitingly consuming relationship with the story. I was pondering it earlier today, and it struck me how there is this definite moment in pre-production when it strikes you that you ARE making this movie. Till then, it is a surreal, disjointed reality, and all sorts of other Life gets in the way. But past that "threshold" there is no going back, and it is your energy, your commitment and passion that holds the entire process together. Your energy seems to radiate with an electric magnetism, attracting and manifesting the most remarkable occurrences as you charge wholeheartedly toward the shoot.
I was reading, more enlighteningly than I had at first suspected, a book on directing, "The Directors Journey", by Mark Travis. Thin, paper back, badly designed cover, I didn't expect ground breaking realisations, but he unpacks the whole process in a truly supportive, systematic manner. Anyhow, the point being, I was reading a section on "the Script Breakdown". Not in a literal, producing manner, i.e. "we need 12 horses, 3 midgets, 7 explosions, and something to transport them all in - tomorrow!" Rather, the section deals with the need for the Director to come to terms with the story at a functional, narrative level. He reminds the reader how utterly crucial it is for the director to understand why a scene is in the movie, what the movie would be like without the scene, and what the Director needs to achieve with this particular scene in order to maintain the integrity of the plot, as well as to progress the narrative. These seem like fairly rudimentary questions, indeed they are rudimentary, but all to often, in the chaos of it all, they can get overlooked, or brushed aside, or (fatally) ignored. So, I started going through each scene, each moment within the scene, how these tie into the sequence they are in, and how this moves us through the story. It was pretty illuminating realising just how much of the story is still superfluous! So, I feel quite confident, indeed relieved, knowing what can now be cut! And importantly, what can't.
I feel I've solved the issue of the location, rather the setting of the film. After having yet more devastatingly enticing options of the Karoo dangled in front of my nose, I've set my sights firmly on the Drakensberg. Indeed, how the story is existing in my mind's eye at the moment, I could tell this story no place else. I know, I know, you're thinking..."But he said the same thing about the Karoo?". Maybe you're right, but I don't have all the answers, certainly not at 2am, but this just feels right.
This resolution has freed up some pretty awesome visualisation, and as the narrative is turning in my mind now, the film is taking on a much more mythic quality. Truly, a Hero's Journey. Whether I have thus hijacked a true life tale, and a sensitive segment of South Africa's complex past, I'm not sure. I don't think so...
The image at the top of the blog came to me as I was sitting down to write this, hence the hybrid title. While one of the more "popular" images from the war, it nonetheless has a haunting quality which I think serves to remind me one of the reasons as to Why, I'm making this film, and, importantly, telling it in the context I'm telling it in. What so few people realise, is that every able bodied Boer was called up for commando duty. They were a Volk, with a national identity forged through blood shed in the veld. Then there is that quite poignant image of 3 generations of Boer, going off to fight for their country, from the grandfather to the grandson. There seems to exist these images and the tales that are passed down, an incredible honesty, a transparency and a total lack of pretense or agenda. This war, and by extension, those (Boers) involved in it seemed to be fought and revolve around core values. Well, perhaps not. There was the Lord Milner's and the Cecil Rhodes', serving to remind us that perhaps mankind never does change. Whether it's the gold of the Witwatersrand, or the "Black gold" of the middle east, the enticement is enough to push those with ambition to send innocent young men to die. However, the imperialists aside, and believe me, I'm not proclaiming all Boers to be innocent, perhaps the majority of Boers fought and died, so that they may have a place to call home. Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps it was a foolish, unnecessary, bloody campaign on both fronts, but the history books tell a story which elicits my sympathies. Not 70 years after leaving the Cape Colony in search of a place to call their own, away from the uninvited crown, the Boers were fronted with Imperialists casting a very intrigued look at the worlds richest gold mines on their Rand, not to mention ideals of painting the African continent red. And if some of that hue had to be drawn from Boer blood, then so be it....
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