Four Eyes

Hey-

This started out as a letter to my friend Suzanne, but I thought everyone should know about it.

So, about 3 years or so ago, after just having moved to the city, I auditioned for this really experimental and collaborative film called Four Eyed Monsters in a really shady raw space in Williamsburg. The guy and the girl that were writing and directing seemed like really laid back artists, but didn't seem much like film people. They were making a movie about how their relationship began and how in the beginning they agreed to only communicate via art projects. They were scruffy, inarticulate, and far too relaxed.

It just occurred to me that, in retrospect, they might have been hipsters.

After my audition, which they now have exclusive rights to, they asked if I would lend them my voice for the opening sequence--It was a layering of voices of single people in New York City, all of whom were searching for something significant and important. I would just have to repeat a line over and over again adjusting my voice to their direction.

Of course, like a dumbass I signed a release form and said yes, because I wanted to still be considered for the film.

Well, since they finished editing the movie, I've gotten a litany of junk mail re: screenings and podcasts. I've ignored it all, and even tried to unsubscribe to their mailing list, but Susan, the aforementioned girl, implored me to stay on it.

Of course like a dumbass I did. I remembered them being really, really nice in the auditions, so I figured, siiiiiigh, why the hell not?

This week, the week before fourth of July weekend, things have been dead at work, and this week also happens to be the week that Four Eyed Monsters is screening at Cinema Village. I've gotten more junk email from them in the last couple of days than I have in a year, so I decided to go ahead and watch their podcast do-dads. For about an hour, I watched what was essentially, bonus footage and "making of" features. I immediately became hooked on the filmmakers' (Arin's and Susan's) journey. The episodic podcasts, in and of themselves, could be combined to make a documentary of two truly green filmmakers. Every "character" in the podcast (the wide-eyed artists making art through risk, the well-meaning and supportive parents/executive producers, the leachy actors, the *literally* psychotic acting teacher) is compelling.

As shown in the podcasts, after the film starts getting some attention, and Arin and Susan are invited to Slamdance (the other Park City festival) a few of the actors in the film start grappling for writing and directing credits---essentially stealing the autobiographical nature of this collaborative film conceived by its starring couple: Arin and Susan.

Please, please, please if you are a filmmaker, or are interested in the filmmaking process, I beg you to watch these podcasts. They are really well-done, really compelling and addictive, and by watching it, you feel as if you are a part of the process. Better yet, you want to tell everyone about the film.

But that's independent art, isn't it? Art that is made successful by the consumer directly, with not a lot to obstruct artist and audience?

I've yet to see the actual film, which is showing again tonight at 7:30. Because of the success of last night's screening, Cinema Village is going to show the film every Thursday in September. I'm pretty sure I'll catch it then.

It looks like a great experiment. I'm happy I wasn't cast in it, and I can't wait to see it.

Let me know what you think.

Jen