Lily Baldwin’s "Swallowed."
Dreams tell us something about the dreamer, and films tell us something about the filmmaker. What do films based on someone else’s dreams tell us?
Five independent filmmakers decided to find out with with their acclaimed omnibus film, collective:unconscious, screening at the Micro-Wave Cinema Series on Oct. 9 at 7 p.m. at 4070 Vilas Hall.
Omnibus films can be hit and miss, but collective:unconscious delivers a consistently strong collection of shorts by established independent filmmakers adapting each other’s dreams.
Daniel Patrick Carbone’s Black Soil, Green Grass features a subtle performance from frequent Micro-Wave actor Frank Mosley. A droning voice counts sheep, amplified from a mountain lookout tower. The valley residents must protect themselves from hearing it by any means. Mosley’s character finds an antidote in the Romanian gypsy songs sung by his grandmother. The crisp black-and-white cinematography highlights textures and details to create a tense hyper-reality ruled by a twisted dream-logic.
Josephine Decker (Butter on the Latch) begins First Day Out like a rap video directed by Federico Fellini. The movements on screen interpret the voices of formerly incarcerated men, whose interviews are heard on the soundtrack. Lauren Wolkstein’s Beemus, It’ll End in Tears transforms a vivid high school experience into a nightmare. A gym teacher, Mr. Beemus (UW-Madison alum Will Blomker), demands complete control of his gym, but unfortunately that gym is in (Mount) Saint Helen’s High School in 1980 (volcano nostalgia, anyone?). Both filmmakers understand the emotional stakes of physical confinement and movement.
Frances Bodomo’s Everybody Dies! delivers a sharp satire using the language of infotainment. Smiling host Ripa the Reaper (Tonya Pinkins) reminds viewers of their mortality, then proceeds to lead African American children through an on-set “Death” door. It’s basically a one-joke film, but the message is chilling.
Swallowed, the final short by Lily Baldwin, provides the most typical dream film, recalling avant-garde psychodramas by Maya Deren. More overtly than Decker, Baldwin transforms the psychic trauma of interpersonal relationships into physical movement as her performance toggles between seizure and dance.
Thanks to a somewhat awkward framing device in which a therapist leads each filmmaker into his or her film, we know who directed what, but we don’t know who dreamed what until the final credits. Gender and race have transformed in intriguing ways in the transition from dream to film. This leads to some interesting interpretive possibilities for the viewer.
“All analysis is self-analysis,” explains the film’s therapist.
Micro-Wave Cinema, UW-Madison graduate student Brandon Colvin’s adventurous showcase for micro-budgeted independent films, shares its venue, 4070 Vilas Hall, with UW-Cinematheque. But the series promotes its screenings separately on Facebook. Most events include a Skype Q & A with filmmakers. A Halloween-themed shorts program will screen Oct. 30, followed by the 2016 Slamdance Festival Jury Award-winning Driftwood on Nov. 13.
