Emil Bacilla

Everybody should make films.

Film-making is a beautiful thing and it’s something that anyone can do. Really.

Sure there’s a lot of strange professional things to get hung up on, but it’s like the cat hustling Wurlitzer organs on television: “you can be playing your favorite songs in minutes.” You’re not going to be ready to take over for Boot if he doesn’t make it to a gig with Billy C., and it’s the same thing with film.

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Film, the liveliest art, is, for all intents and purposes dead. At least in Detroit. Those wanting to attend services, needn’t bother, since there usually aren’t any for a stillborn that was just dumped in a garbage can for expediency.

Since the end of WWII there has been an increasing interest in film in this country. Foreign films developed an audience and in almost every city with a population over 200 underground movements sprung up, with independents making films from high art to low trash. In Detroit, however, nothing has happened. At different times different people have attempted to give life to some kind of movement, and each time all that ever developed was a few kicks that gave signs of life but ended in miscarriage.

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It’s rumored that the Wayne State University Artists Society is planning a film festival. They’ve gotten some money from the University and feel that a festival would be a good way to use it, and, perhaps make some more money. Due to the time thing I’m going to have to beg off on giving more information, since the plan has only been in existence for a few days.

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The other night the ACLU presented the premiere of Paul Stookey’s film THE CULVERT, along with RELAX YOUR MIND by Tom Berman and Chris Frayne, and FIVE SHORT FILMS and L’HISTOIRE DU SOLDAT by George Manupelli. The program was very enjoyable, in fact it was an intriguing way to spend an hour plus.

The first film shown was FIVE SHORT FILMS, which was a collection of experiments with abstract flashes with a soundtrack comprised of various sounds synchronized to the images. The five films were titled: FILM FOR HOODED PROJECTOR: I LOVE YOU, DO NOT BE AFRAID; SAY NOTHING ABOUT THIS TO ANYONE; I MUST SEE YOU CONCERNING A MATTER OF THE UTMOST URGENCY: and IF YOU LEAVE ME I WILL KILL MYSELF. The audience as usually happens with films of this type, tended to become uneasy, but I found that if you just kind of sit there and let the thing overpower you, it can be kind of a strange trip. Although, I’ll have to admit that I too got tired of it after a while. But then maybe I missed the point.

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Maybe film was only playing possum. It sure looked dead, though... Nothing was happening. The few people I had managed to find that were interested in film were leaving town. Most of the good theaters were closing. There was obviously no hope. Then I wrote a couple columns for The Fifth Estate and BHANG, the floodgates opened. Things started happening. So many things that I can’t really cover them in depth, because of a lack of space and information; I just haven’t had time to learn all that I want to learn about them. All I can do is mention them and promise to elaborate sometime in the future.

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Well you see it was something like this. Larry Weiner (formerly mentioned in this column), Detroit film-maker, has finally gotten everything together for his long planned sequence for his long in the making film. The sequence involves some junior executive types walking through the Fisher Building, through the tunnel, in and out of the General Motors Building, dressed in turtle shells.

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In the last issue of the Fifth Estate [FE #14, September 15, 1966] I said that film was dead in Detroit. I wrote that shortly after arriving in San Francisco, and have since managed to see what film makers here are doing to promote films and film making in the Bay area.

The film makers in this area have banded together and are forming the Canyon Cinema Co-op, patterned after the Filmmakers Co-op in New York, the arrangement being that anyone who has a film that they would like to see distributed arranges to have it listed in the co-op’s catalogue, and every time the film is rented the film-maker receives 75% of the rental fee and the co-op gets 25% to help cover operating expenses.

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A lot of changes have been taking place lately on the local independent underground film scene. Ralph Pickett, of the Indian Pickers, has left the Detroit Repertory Theatre. Bill Unger is now in charge of the film showing. It’s interesting to note the changes in the programming.

Booking styles, it seems can be as diverse as filmmaking styles. Whereas Ralph booked films of very broad appeal, Unger, it seems, is picking a lot of films that are not quite as well done, but still worth seeing. Its like the difference between John Mayall and One String Sam. You may not find as many films that you like at the Rep., but you see some shit that you wouldn’t believe.

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Every so often I wake up in the middle of the night with the insane desire to write another film column. Usually, I manage to put it out of my head and go back to sleep. Sometimes I find that impossible, so here we go again.

First some background: Detroit is probably the only place in the world where independent film theaters have come into existence with no filmmaking scene to back them up. Usually there’s filmmakers first and theaters second. Now that underground films have been around regularly for about six months, a filmmaking scene seems to be materializing.

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On Wednesday, January 18, the Ann Arbor Police Department confiscated Jack Smith’s film FLAMING CREATURES during a showing to 300 college students, hippies, and film buffs. This was, we suppose, an attempt to protect these people from having to see things that they weren’t supposed to see.

It was a very subtle bust, actually. Everyone was sitting there watching the film when the screen went black and the lights came up. There was confusion for a few minutes, people wondering if the film was over or what.

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