An
Interview with David Riker
continued

The 'Quinceniera' (sweet 15 dance) in the 'Home' segment of "La
Ciudad"
DZ:
Well, let's talk briefly about the other side of the equation,
which is who the film is for and how, both, putting it this way,
both, when you made the film, what was your idea of who the audience
would be and how it would get to that audience, and now that the
film is out and has been in theaters and, you know, a lot has
happened to it, how do you assess that, the, you know, the success
or things that you've learned in the course of dealing with that
aspect?
DR:
Okay, a few ways to answer it. The first is, I started the film
as a short, while I was at film school, it was the story of The
Puppeteer. The film school, by the way, was not happy with the
plan, and several of my teachers said that it would be a mistake,
an unpardonable mistake to make it in Spanish because it would
be a foreign film. And this was not in a one on one, this was
in front of a group of film students. And I've said this before
now, so I've come out about this and I'm happy to come out again.
My directing teacher asked me to rent the film The Hunt for Red
October [audience laughter], which you know I would still like
my money back for that [much audience laughter]. But he wanted
me to look at the opening scene because he said there's creative
ways to avoid this problem of language.
DZ:
Oh, because it's in a Russian sub, right...
DR:
It's in a Russian submarine, and the opening shot, there's I guess
a Russian guy speaking in Russian I suppose, and it's subtitled
and then the director had this extraordinary idea of using a zoom
lense to zoom in slowly on the Russian commander's mouth, and
then reverse out on the zoom, and he speaks in English [audience
laughter]. And the rest of the film is in English. You know, and
this was not a... it's easy to laugh about it now, but I rented
it, and I looked at it, and I was thinking of what kind of lense
is that [audience laughter]...
And,
the film ended up winning the festival at the university, and
then it went on to win what is every film school's greatest hope,
which is the Academy Award for a student work. And I was flown
out to Los Angeles, first class, and I had a limousine pick me
up, and for two weeks, I was treated like a celebrity out there.
And I met with all the studios, and I met with agents and production
companies.
It's
kind of a little... it's actually very well organized. They do
it all the time, so they know how to do this kind of event, and
maybe sixty times, I was told we love this story of The Puppeteer,
and we want to make it a feature film. With a short film, no one
is going to see it, there is no means to distribute it, but a
feature film that will play in the multiplexes of America, if
you make a few changes to it.
And
I knew it was coming. You make it in English, and you make it
in color, and you make it with professional actors, and you make
it a feature length story, and then we'll make it with you, and
there's a lot of money to make a film like that.
And
I came back to New York momentarily dazed. And I went as far as
to start thinking about making The Puppeteer a feature film, not
in English, keeping it in Spanish but making it a full length
film. In fact, I was so... for about two months, I was fully engaged
in the question of how to make it a feature length story... It's
a story of a homeless man who survives as a puppeteer, and who
has poor health because he has tuberculosis that he contracted
in a shelter, and because of that he refuses to stay in the shelters.
And he wants to put his daughter in school.
And
I started thinking maybe I could expand the film and actually
reflect some of the realities I'd learned about, which is that
homeless people with tuberculosis in New York City, if they refuse
to take their medicine, are arrested, and put in Riker's Island
in a special tuberculosis lockdown, and that the State had the
power to do this. And I visited Riker's Island, and as you know
by now, my name is David Riker, so when I was trying to get in,
I tried for the first time to use that to my advantage [much audience
laughter] and didn't succeed, but then I found a way through an
activist in the health clinic there, [sounds like Mountifurer?]
health clinic to get in as a medical researcher, and I made it
into some of these tuberculosis lockdowns and talked to some of
the homeless people.
So
I was distracted, but it raised the question for me that this
should be a feature film, not a short. I understood that without
it being a feature film, it had very little chance of it being
seen. At the same time, the film was shown as a short in the community
where it was filmed, in the South Bronx at a church. And during
the course of a day long festival, the film was shown constantly,
and several thousand people from the South Bronx came to see it.
It
was really like a celebration, not just for the film, it was a
community festival, but they all would come in to watch the film,
and after each screening, they said: "This is a beautiful film,
this is the first time I've seen my own neighborhood on the screen,
but it's no good, because as soon as I got comfortable in my chair,
it ended. You know the film was over before it began. You got
to make it a bigger film." And they passed the hat without my
prompting, and at the end of that day, I had dozens and dozens
of people who volunteered to help. The local bodegas were gonna
make ham and cheese sandwiches, and coffees, and gipsy cab drivers
were gonna drive around the crew... and I realized that the combination
of their reaction, and what I learned in Hollywood was that I
needed to expand it.
I
then set about the process of making the feature film. But I didn't
for once think about the market. From that point on, I didn't
give a moment's thought to the market, except that it was going
to be a feature length film. I didn't care whether or not it would
be commercial, whether or not it would have a chance of being
seen.
More
recently, I've been, at universities where I've been teaching
younger film makers, and they're all concerned with the market.
It's an obsession, which is to try and make a film that will have
success with the market. If it's a film about Latino immigrants,
definitely, you're gonna make it in English. And if you could
have a multi-racial cast, in an inner city film, and put that
love spice in there, definitely you're gonna do it.
You
see what I'm saying? And my experience of not thinking about the
market is that I could think about the story itself, I could think
about the film. I knew it was never going to be seen, I should
put it that way, right from the start. And so I was liberated.
I didn't have to think about it. And at every point, I could make
the decisions based on what would be best for the film, what would
be best for the story. And it took a long period of time, but
when it was completed, I should say, half way through, I had shot
two of the stories with very little money, grant money, student
loan money and money that I earned while I was making the film,
someone from ITVS, which is the Independent Television Service
which was formed by an act of congress in 1989, I think, specifically
to get money into the hands of film makers that would bring "unrepresented
voices to PBS." And if you look carefully at what that means,
it means everybody, that is none of us are reflected on PBS. It's
not just a question of the African-American experience or the
Latino, or the South Asian experience, but it's the experience
of young people, it's the experience of elderly people, it's the
experience of workers. You see what I'm saying? We're all under
represented.
DZ:
The British upper-class is not under represented on PBS.
DR:
That's right. That's the only group that's already represented
and the Antique Road Show [audience laughter], but so they came
on board and they gave me money to complete the film. And I knew
it would be shown on PBS. But I still didn't think about the market.
When
the film was completed, it premiered in Canada at the Toronto
Film Festival, and to my amazement, I went into the first screening
which was for press and industry, I think they call it the industry,
the place was packed, people were sweating, and it was a almost
entirely white middle age group of film connoisseurs and professionals
in the film business.
And
when it ended I went straight to the men's room to hide and I
heard these men coming in and talking about the film like they
had discovered some great film. And then a guy from the New York
Times called me and said I got to talk to you at six in the morning
and it was surreal, because from the start, I thought that the
film would never reach a broad audience, I certainly didn't think
that it would have a theatrical release, it had everything going
against it, it was shot on 16mm, it was grainy, it was shot in
black and white, it was in Spanish, it did not have professional
actors, and it wasn't a single narrative story, it was these four
stories, and yet... so you never know, you see what I'm saying,
you don't know how people will respond.
Subsequent
to that press and industry screening, I received a number of distribution
offers from companies that specialized in art house films, and
I was advised by people that were with me that I should hold out
for Sundance Film Festival, because there, one of the bigger film
companies might buy the film and it would have a broader release,
and I did that, we held out, there was a lot of strategy sessions
and wasted time, Samuel Goldwyn Company wanted to release the
film and all of the executives were into it, they were passionate
about it, they just needed Samuel himself to see it. And I was
like, this guy Samuel is still alive? [audience laughter] Can't
believe it! And they said...
DZ:
He's not but he has to see it...
DR:
He's alive, he's an old man, elderly man, and they shipped the
print, not a video tape but the whole print for him to see it,
and then he said, no we can't do anything with it. So Samuel Goldwyn
[audience laughter]
But
there was a period I was thinking, okay maybe it will be seen
very widely. In the end, it was the people who came up to me that
day, the next day in Toronto who never wavered in their interest
to release the film, that I ended up distributing it with. It
was Zeitgeist Films. They had done a great job with a film called
Manufacturing Consent about Noam Chomsky, you might have seen,
and they were right at that time distributing a film called Chiapas
about the Zapatistas' uprising.
I
met with them and I said, "I believe that this has two audiences:
the art house audience, so- called, people who are interested
in films from other parts of the world, and the Latino community."
And Zeitgeist, as well as all the other companies, said, we don't
believe there's an audience in the Latino community and we're
not prepared to commit to put it in those neighborhoods.
So
I had to make a decision. Do I try and do it myself, or do I go
with them and see how it goes. From the beginning, every time
I asked a garment worker or day labourer or Cipriano to be in
the film, they had a question, who are you making it for? And
I would say, primarily, I'm making it for people who don't understand
what you're going through right now, as a way of combating the
ignorance that exists, a way of undermining the xenophobia, of
undermining George W. Bush, because they're talking about the
new immigrants being some kind of invasion that needs to be defended
with a military wall, and I want to undermine that.
But
at the same time, I hope that the film will be useful within the
community, within the Latin-American community precisely because
part of the deal of being an immigrant in the U.S. today is that
when you come here and you cross the boarder, you are made invisible.
I say it's an unwritten rule, because it goes without saying that
you're going to be silent when you're up here. You're gonna work
on the edges of the city, in the backs of the restaurants, and
in the backs of the hotels, and in people's homes doing domestic
work and you're going to be in factories that are out of sight,
no one is going to see you. You're gonna work in silence, and
that the act of being in the film would be an act of breaking
that silence, and becoming visible, and so for the Latino community
it could be exhilarating to see up on the screen what is refused
to be seen. So I started seeing it had two audiences.
When
it was released, Zeitgeist used a method it always uses which
is to put it in an art house theater, it was put in the Quad theater
on thirteenth street, and the very first weekend, it was clear
that Latinos were coming to see it, immigrant workers were coming
to see it. They were walking around thirteenth street, lost, asking
people, where is the film "The Immigrant" playing. You see what
I'm saying? They had just heard through the grape vines that there
was a film about them. They didn't even know the title.
On
the first weekend, so many people came from as far away as Philadelphia,
Jersey City, parts of Connecticut, Hampstead, Long Island, they
were coming with their babies. And I learned on the Sunday that
the theater was turning them away because the Quad has a policy,
no children under five. Right, that's a place to watch a movie
in perfect silence [audience laughter]. But by Monday, the numbers
had been so good that the owner of the theater agreed to wave
the policy, it would now be open to everyone, and the film, instead
of playing two or three weeks I think played there almost three
months, and the reason it did is because the Latinos were coming
in addition to the art house.
But
still, the distributor wouldn't open it in the Latino neighborhoods.
I had to wait until it finished in the Quad, I had to get special
permission from them to let me open it up in Latino theaters,
which I don't know how to distribute a film. I knew, because it
was on Univison and Telemundo [TV stations], it was in the Latino
press so much as a kind of historic accomplishment of the community
that there was an audience for it, and I also knew that the main
chain of Latino theaters had already asked Zeitgeist, "Could we
have the film?" And Zeitgeist said no because they didn't trust
them that they would be paid.
So
now I went to these theaters and I asked them if they were still
interested, they said they were, and I said, "I don't know how
do to this but I know I need money for ads, will you advance me
money?" And these theater owners gave me $2500 bucks each, something
which if you've ever dealt with theaters is unheard of, that they
give you money before they even get the film. They gave me cash,
I had $7500 bucks.
With
that I knew I could buy a few ads, and make leaflets, and make
a third print, cause we needed three print, and then I had an
idea to ask the theaters to do something else they had never done,
which is to let people see the film without paying. I went to
the theaters, and I said, " I have a brilliant idea [audience
laughter], it's going to make you a lot of money, let everyone
come in for free from Monday morning until Friday at five o'clock,
and as long as they are in public schools, as long as they're
school groups, open up the theaters.
To
begin with, nobody comes to your theaters until the evening, so
why not let the community see it, but also I can use that to get
things rolling." They were looking at each other like it's absurd,
but somehow I convinced them to do it, then I got some of the
Latino politicians who love an opportunity to be on the news [audience
laughter] and who saw it as a worthwhile cause to agree to do
a big press conference and there we were in front of one of these
theaters up in Washington Heights with all the community leaders,
and politicians
And
the theater owners who had borrowed suits off the peg to be there,
you know, for the first time in front of the cameras, and we had
a slogan which was "Las puertas estan abierta", "the doors are
open": Every school age children can see the film and the theaters
were packed. Teachers had something to do, they could afford it,
and the kids went home and told their parents and so at the weekends,
the theaters were packed.
And
it was Cipriano and myself and about half a dozen other actors
were there every day, every night, handing out leaflets, talking
to the audiences, we would get up on the stage Ð we would raid
the theaters Ð we would go up on the stage six of us, before the
film began, there would be hundreds of Latin-American immigrants
and their families -- the fact that the actors that they had heard
about on TV were on stage made it really very moving -- and we
would hand out thousands of leaflets which they would take out.
Also
because there was this "children go free", I was able to go to
Univision which is the number one television station for the Latin-American
community, and get them to put a free PSA on and they ran it five
or six times a day for six-seven weeks. That would have cost about
$200,000.
So
we were beating every week the new Hollywood films, and for the
first time I began reading the trades because I would see like
"Scream II" is coming out and we would take it as a challenge
[audience laughter] and then it would happened.... Saturday night,
screen one at the theaters would be "La Ciudad," packed, and screen
two they would be screening to an empty room, you know. And it
showed that the only reason that Hollywood dominates is because
we let them dominate. Do you see what I'm saying? They have a
system, it works for them but it's not because that's what people
want to see. The minute they were offered an alternative that
had some sort of meaning to them, they went to it.
ÉWe
outlived five or six filmsÉ in total the film played almost five
months in theaters in New York City and it's a shame half of you
didn't make it, but... I'm winded, you know, I haven't talked
this much in a long time.
DZ:
That's an incredible story. In Los Angeles, it's interesting because
a similar phenomenon happened where the film opened in the New
Art Theater which is one of the art theaters on the West side,
and in L.A. It reached a point where the L.A. Times had a feature
article about how people were taking the bus from East L.A. to
the New Art Theater in the hundreds to see the film. And that's,
I mean, that's a trick, you know, L.A. public transportation is
a bit different from New York, it takes probably an hour and a
half to two hours to get there.
[In
the LA Times article,] Zeitgeist was saying that they were going
to try to open it up in other theaters, but they never did, it
never happened. But it was enough of an unusual phenomenon for
the L.A. Times to take fairly big notice of it. I think that there's
a lot to learn from your experience in bringing it to the Latin-American
community, both in terms of how, but also in terms of what it
really meant for the community. Let's open it up here. I know
there's a lot of other questions, and let's... actually, let me
ask [?sounds like Sepriano?-TRACK 8 1:36] before, to just, would
you like to come say a few words?
DR:
For those of you who saw the film, Cipriano Garcia played the
role of a young Mexican in New York City, from the town of Tosingo
in the state of Puebla, who falls in love with a woman on the
first night that he arrives in New York, and he learns that she's
from the very same town.
And
as an example of how we worked, Tosingo is the town that Cipriano
is actually from, and during the course of the life of the film,
beyond making it, he has been at all the events I've been talking
about -- raiding the theaters and handing out leaflets, he's been
doing them all, so I'm really happy that he's here. [audience
applause]
Cipriano
Garcia: First, let me thank you for the invitation, I'm pretty
happy to be here, and I'm happy to see you once again, actually
I haven't seen you for months! So it's nice to be here with you
guys, for those who have seen The City, I'm really thankful, you
know, I believe that it's really great to be part of The City,
to make something different from what Hollywood has actually been
making for years.
I
am an actor. When I came to the audition, I was just thinking,
it's my first opportunity, I gotta be my best, that is what I
thought. I never thought I would be end up in theaters all over
the United States, and Latin-America, Europe, and basically so
far it's been a beautiful experience, that I enjoyed pretty much
so far. Thank you very much.
DZ:
We'll open it up for some questions...yah?
AUDIENCE
MEMBER: David, I was wondering what you actually learned in film
school that made its way into your later art, what you learned
actually that was helpful and also, more things that were unhelpful
in film school.
DR:
I'm glad you asked the question because I really want to be careful
not to attack my education.
When
I was thinking of going to film school, I went to a number of
film schools to ask people who were in the programs, "Is this
worth it? What are you learning?" , and they all told me it's
not worth it, it's a waste of money and time, and if you have
twenty thousand dollars, just go make your own film. And I would
leave thinking, that doesn't seem right, they're getting all that
knowledge that I don't have, and then they're telling me it's
not worth it. So when people ask me if it's worth it, my answer
is it is, not because of what the film school is giving you, but
because the act of going into any kind of intensive study is the
act of figuring out for yourself what you are trying to do.
In
other words, when I was looking at film school, I was walking
around trying to figure out what's the best program, what teachers,
what kind of cameras do they have, what kind of resources do they
have, thinking that what I was gonna learn was out there. And
what I found out was that what I was going to learn, I was already
carrying around inside me. But in order to learn it, I needed
to stop running around like crazy doing a million other things,
and tell the communities that I had been working with and tell
my friends and my family, I'm cutting out, you know, I'm stepping
back, and I'm going to spend some time really selfishly figuring
things out.
So
at one level, you don't have to be in a film program or in an
arts program to do that, but it allows it. It allows you to stop
for a minute the daily cut and thrust. I was deeply involved with
the community organizing in Roxbury's African-American community
at that time. We had video programs going on, we were setting
up screening facilities in the neighborhoods, we were actively
training people, and I had to pull out of it, and I felt a burden
when I went to film school to begin with.
But
it was there that I began to study other films, it was there that
I began to, for the fist time, be able to look at world cinema,
and see how stories can be told in a way that is very expressive,
multi-layered, poetic, I was able to see how political story tellers
have worked in film, I was able to observe how people had worked
with non-actors before, and see for example how, despite the fact
that their faces bring a tremendous presence to the film, very
often it's very stilted and stiff, and cardboard-like.
And
so when I was making La Ciudad, I was constantly conscious of
how to avoid that. All of the work of improvisation and dramatic
workshops that I did were to avoid that. And I also became conscious
of the fact that unlike the other arts, I think without exception,
film making is an industrial endeavor that requires an immense
amount of resources from around the planet. It's not possible
to be just an artist, as you might be as a writer, as a painter,
as a singer, a rapper, a musician, that in film, you're demanding
access to an immense amount of resources. And if you're working
in film, you're dealing with chemical industry, you're dealing
with the mining extractive industry, you're dealing with thousands
of people.
You
know, Titanic I eventually learned, it was made, it's the first
film that's the product of a maquiladora in Baha, California,
that one of the studios set up, and the number of people who made
that film was ten thousand. Ten thousand people were involved
during the entire process of it. A film like La Ciudad also had
more than a thousand people who were involved, who brought different
skills, different equipment, different resources.
So
it was at film school that I understood a different kind of responsibility
as well, which is if we're gonna demand from the world this amount
of resources, there's a responsibility that comes with that. It
means someone else isn't going to be using those resources to
make a film. So learning about world cinema, having time to really...
I'm going to say, find my own voice, you know which sounds, even
as I say it strange, but in a way that the main difference between
La Ciudad and the documentaries I made was that, that it's not
an agitational work such as I did before, but it's something different
and part of it was the result of having a lot of reflection, studying
work Ð studying work, I don't mean going to see it when it plays
in the theater, I mean renting it and watching it thirty times
without the audio on, with the audio on, watching it with your
eyes closed just to listen, counting the number of shots in a
scene, trying to understand why a scene gives me a certain feeling,
studying the optics of lenses, beginning to understand how sound
can change the emotional content of a scene -- real kind of craft
study.
And
my only disappointment was that I didn't leave after five years
with a community of collaborators that share the kind of approach
I have. Very few people that I met that are interested in this
kind of work. And it's also why, I mean I really, I appreciate
the chance Ð I haven't heard from any of you yet Ð but to be here,
because it is very very hard to do this work on our own, in other
words to be in that world that I'm in without feeling the connection
that I need with a movement of other artists and activists.
AUDIENCE
MEMBER: David, the story of self-distribution in New York City
here was really pretty fascinating... I was wondering if you were
able to take that model and use it in other cities, did you travel
with your film elsewhere... if you could talk a bit more about
your experiences outside the art house market, outside New York.
DR:
No, but not because it couldn't be done. It's because I personally
couldn't do it. The model was so sound, for example for those
six weeks in Queens and in Washington Heights, the film earned
a quarter of all the income that it made in a year of playing
in sixty cities. And it's clear that if someone had taken the
same model... it was really a blueprint going for the schools,
opening them up, getting them free, there was a precedent set
that Univision would offer free ads, that the same could be repeated
in at least eight or ten cities were there's a very large Latin-American
population.
But
for me it would have been another year. And I've been trying to
move on to other work for a long time, and also I knew that the
film was going to be release on PBS, and that I would need to
devote many months to the PBS release, so I offered to the distributer
the model and the blueprint and it never happened. And it's sad
it never happened. One of the things we did was set up a 1-800
number, which I learned from Gerry Brown's presidential campaignÉ.
[to
be continued]