Like chemistry                                

Sylvestre Guidi

SG: A director of photography in a documentary has to be well briefed, which Michka did very well. We talked a lot before the film. But during the film, we didn't say much. We waved at each other.  "It's beautiful, do you have everything you need?" "Yes, it's good." Most of the time, we didn't look at the rushes except for Prisoners of Beckett, which was a really complicated shoot. For that film, we really had to get all the pieces to tell a story. We worked 10 or 12 hours a day, then we went to my room or to hers for another 3 or 4 hours of viewing then we'd sleep for 3 or 4 hours before starting the next day.

She was very focused on form. For Spoon, we talked a lot about how to represent the inner life of Spoon, and also about what he had never seen. At some point I said, "Michka, why don't we do all the exteriors, which represent freedom, in colour and everything related to Spoon's interior world in black and white?" As someone with an instinct for cinema, she said "Yes" right away. But more than that, it wasn’t a film that we shot in colour and then decided to make some parts black and white afterwards. When we shot, the camera was already adjusted to black and white. In other words, there was no going back.

She talked to me a lot about the films she had seen. Even if they weren't documentaries, Garrel's films, for example. Afterwards, when we arrived on location, it was up to me to do my creative part. On the shoot of Spoon in California, she was not so interested in shooting trains, for example.... But I insisted a lot. Catherine[1][ was very insistent. And then finally, we shot the trains and then she put them in the film.

MF: In the end, the trains became a leitmotif of the film. But on the other hand, you were fascinated by the wind turbines, and we shot quite a lot of them. She told me that she wasn’t interested in them at all, but it was important for you to express yourself.

SG: Yes, she gave us that freedom. She could say, “Go ahead, if you want to do it, if it gives you pleasure”. But at the same time, it gave her some freedom, too. She was able to look at the images with Michel Giroux[2] and say, "Ah finally, you know, it's interesting and we'll use it.” She was not someone who would have dogmatically said, "I wouldn't use it because I didn't want it." She took the time to look at everything, and would then decide if it would serve the film or not.

MF: This quest for freedom followed her all of her life. You can trace it from escaping a traumatic childhood through to freedom via art in Spoon and Prisoners of Beckett. Even the right of immigrants to be different in Zero Tolerance.

SG: If you look at Zero Tolerance today, it’s almost prophetic. She knew about the problem of racial profiling long before it was talked about. The film was watched by members of the Quebec government and shown in many places because it identified real problems. But it also showed her strength of character — a small Jewish immigrant woman who goes head-to-head with these six-foot tall cops. Not everyone could have done it.

MF: There was some improvising in Zero Tolerance because you were in the police car at night, and you didn’t know what could happen.

SG: We were lucky. During the arrest on Sainte-Catherine Street of the Filipino, the policeman still let us film. Once they say "Yes" and the camera starts rolling, it's hard for them to stop you. When they told us to stop shooting, we didn't stop. I wouldn't have kept going in Congo. but in Montreal? There's no recourse. They're not going to hit you and shoot you.

It happens like that. You improvise. For Spoon, we only had a big HMI lamp with a smoke machine in the woods. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

She was open to everything. I think good directors can recognize a good idea. Catherine also had good ideas for images sometimes, and Pierre Bertrand as well.[3]

At the end of every interview, she asked me and the sound recorder if we had any other questions. Because maybe she forgot something, or maybe we heard things that she didn't hear. Good directors trust their team. After you make a few films together, it’s like chemistry. There’s almost no need to talk. I’m not lazy. I'm not going to wait for her to tell me what to shoot. We had this generosity between us, to give more rather than less. Sometimes Catherine would go on her own to record 45 minutes of all kinds of sounds. It enriches a film.

MF: To return to Spoon, you shot a lot of footage of the dancers in the park that you didn’t use.

SG: We tried some stuff outside, but it didn't work out the way she wanted. I think it was a bit of a departure from everything in the studio. All of a sudden, you have dancers running around in a field. So she dumped all that. But it was very “free”, which is important. In the film, when one of the dancers says "I see you, Spoon” that’s total improvisation. Even if the dancers had prepared stuff, Michka gave them space to ad lib. She thought maybe they could come up with something interesting. In the end, they created some absolutely extraordinary moments.

But she also had the ability, in this space of freedom, to put people at ease. She was not someone who focused on the actors, for example, and left the crew completely out of it. We were together enough that the dancers got used to us. For example, when I filmed, I wasn’t even eight inches away from the dancer's face. If you want to do that, there really has to be an atmosphere of trust. Because if people don't feel good together, you can't put the camera in someone's face like that. It's impossible.

MF: There was also the ad lib moment in Mavericks that you shot in the bazaar. And it was you who asked questions at that end. "What did you buy?" Michka wasn't even there.

SG: Live stuff like that where you interact is always a challenge. We didn’t do that very often. It was not her kind of film. I think Mavericks was maybe the most ad lib thing she did because well, you know, we didn’t have a budget. 

MF: Often in her films she takes difficult subjects and she needs a complicity with the characters because otherwise it doesn't work. She told me that it took an hour of conversation with one of the characters in Prisoners of Beckett to convince him to participate in the film. She talked about her childhood, and all the things she went through in life.

SG: He was very reluctant because he feared being recognized. We couldn’t show his face so that whole part in Beckett was shot in silhouette. Again, not many directors work like that. Many would have been pushier. But you know, I never heard Michka shout on a set or get angry at someone. She always managed, with the same sweet voice, to convince and charm, and finally get someone on board. That's extraordinary because I've made enough documentaries to know that conflicts happen. I've made entire films where the director is practically fighting with the main character.

But then there are other moments, for example, the shoot for New Memories. When we interviewed Anne alone in her bedroom at home (about family issues), Michka was really not happy. But it was extremely difficult to get Anne to talk about it. Michka was super allergic to cats, and there were three or four in the apartment. She couldn't come in. When Anne started talking about it spontaneously, with Catherine, we said we're not going to stop her. You know, that might have been the only time Anne talked about it. In the end, I think Michka forgave us.

MF: Did the fact that she was always short of money give you more freedom? Because it forces you to find creative solutions?

SG: When you have less money, you have to be more creative. But even if she had a small budget, I was never underpaid. I got the rate I would normally get. She was the one losing money. No longer being able to make another film with Michka will be one of my biggest regrets. Especially because of the small cameras we use now. She liked doing that a lot. A tripod, a lamp, and two small cameras were perfect for her. With Spoon, we worked quite a bit like that. Then New Memories was the same. Because Michka was not someone who wanted to take time to set up lighting or fuss with equipment. We were really light and invisible, and that gave her freedom to do things on the fly.

MF. I've read several descriptions of your relationship in funding applications. She always describes you as a "maestro".

SG: I think we had a lot of respect for each other. She was the person I loved working with the most in cinema. With her, I was allowed to express myself more than on any other film I've done. She had an absolutely fantastic instinct for filmmaking. That's not to diminish the other directors I've worked with. But with Michka, it was really pure pleasure because she was a walking encyclopaedia of cinema.

We both had this love of form, of looking for metaphors. To prepare for the film, we would see each other three or four times. We would spend two or three hours together talking about cinema. I would bring books, we would read things. That's why I say when we arrived on the set there was not much else to say except “Let's have fun.”

[1] Catherine Van Der Donckt.

[2] Editor of Spoon.

[3] Pierre Bertrand and Catherine Van Der Donckt were the sound recorders for Spoon.