|
As Hollywood continues to churn out mega-movies with budgets roughly equivalent to the gross national product of a small country, Willow Glen filmmaker Jean Buschmann is bucking the trend. Buschmann is setting out to prove that a film doesn't need to be produced with a bankload of cash to engage the mind as much as the eyes.
Produced on a tight budget in the span of three months, Boxed In caught the attention of critics and independent movie buffs alike when it debuted at the Morgan Hill Poppy Jasper film festival on Nov.13.
In a mere 14 minutes, the film contends with issues of ethnicity, class and stereotyping. Set in an office building, two Latino lawyers—one a wealthy but greedy corporate lawyer, the other a poor but idealistic public defender—argue about race and morality when the public defender approaches the corporate lawyer about taking a case pro bono. As the characters, along with an affable maintenance man, become "boxed in" when their elevator stalls, they must confront their own prejudices and misconceptions.
"I think it is an interesting film in that it raises questions for people who might be in transition, or who might be undergoing different life experiences," said Dan Bessie, who played the maintenance man and has worked as a filmmaker, screenwriter and writing instructor. "I appreciated the fact that it was a film of conscience, and not purely entertainment. It raises issues that are germane to the Latino community. I found it really rewarding to work on. And they did it on practically no budget, but I was very impressed with the piece."
Not that creating a film on a shoestring budget didn't have its drawbacks. When Bushmann and her team of actors and editor/associate producer/husband Ruben Martinez set out to film Boxed In, they had difficulty finding a building where they could shoot the movie, although they had the proper liability insurance. Finally, they secured the permission of a suite owner to film inside his office. The owner of the building, however, had not formally condoned their project.
"I was so stressed out," said Buschmann, laughing. "There was a possibility that we could get kicked out. And I really felt for the actors, who had taken time out of their regular jobs to be in the film. We went into stealth mode, and went one by one into the building."
Although the crew scrambled to finish filming the office scene in three hours, natural interruptions like ringing phones and passersby made the feat impossible. Eventually, the irate owner of the building caught them.
Desperate to finish the scene, Buschmann explained her situation to the owner, who agreed to let her complete the shoot. With the brief office scene a wrap, the filmmaker and crew were left with the seemingly easier task of filming the remaining elevator scene in a studio.
Unfortunately, the location of the studio presented yet another dilemma. About every two minutes, a plane would fly overhead, interfering with the sound of the film.
But even with the steady stream of interruptions, the film flows as smoothly as if it was shot in a single take.
"It's a testament to Ruben's talent with film editing," Buschmann said. "We wouldn't be able to use part of a take, so we did a lot of takes. But it came out seamless."
Rich in ideas, if not financial backing, Buschmann said she set out to create a film that would allow people to relate to the characters in a personal way.
"I wanted to hold a mirror up," she said. "We are most powerful when we become aware of our own inaction, when we see a reflection of ourselves and think about it, and what it really means."
While hosting a party to celebrate the film's debut, Buschmann asked family and friends what they thought of the work.
"I received different answers from everyone," she said. "And to me, that's a compliment. People are getting something personal out of it."
And for Buschmann, the personal and political intertwine. Raised in a racially divisive Queens, New York, during the 1970s, the half-German and half-Puerto Rican girl was subject to racism and stereotyping.
"I remember being labeled," she said. "I hated feeling like people were putting me in a box and not letting me out. It was like, how dare you have aspirations outside of that box? It's detrimental to your self-esteem, especially for minorities, who are repeatedly reduced to stereotypes. And it happens in the reverse direction, as well."
And her mixed heritage made navigating the racial divide even more difficult, Buschmann said.
"When you are of mixed ethnicity, you never feel like one or the other," she said. "Everyone wants to claim you, and that's another label. I would think, 'Why can't I just be me, and you decide whether you like the real me or not?' "
Although she acknowledges the racial climate of her hometown has cooled down over the years, she remembers a time she took Martinez, her husband, to Queens.
"He and a friend went into a pizzeria and got the typical stare-down," she said.
"We left," Martinez adds.
It was a mutual passion for promoting tolerance and raising awareness of social issues that led Martinez and Buschmann to collaborate on Boxed In, their first joint venture. The couple runs a multimedia company called So What Productions, but they had never worked on a film together.
"Our goal has been to be filmmakers," Buschmann said. "But the need to eat has preceded that up to now. So What Productions has been more involved in the business end—corporate and music videos. It's enjoyable, but my heart and soul is in writing."
According to Martinez, working together turned out to be a marriage of the minds.
"We've known each other for so long that we work together pretty well," he said. "Throughout making the film, we would stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning. Once we got a flow going, we didn't want to stop doing it until it was done."
Although they each had different roles in the making of the film, the couple said they relied on each other for feedback and moral support.
"We play off each other," Buschmann said. "Ruben is the editor, but there was not one time when I was not sitting next to him. We bounce ideas off each other. I trusted that he understood what I was trying to convey. He's more visual than I am, and I trust his feedback."
Ruben, in turn, aided his wife while she wrote the script.
"When it comes to Jean's writing, I'm sort of a muse," he said. "And I will give her feedback, and then she will throw her own in."
Despite the late nights and hectic schedule involved in producing the film, both Martinez and Buschmann insist they enjoyed the creative process as much as the end product.
"So often, people tend to focus on the destination, not the journey," Martinez said. "People tend to lose sight of the process, but there is joy in the process."
Their creativity was also stimulated by the actors they enlisted to work on the film.
"We worked with creative people who gave us their time practically for free," Martinez said. "But there was this energy in the room. One day, the actors came from their normal jobs on a Friday afternoon. We went into the studio where we had built the set, and didn't leave until 10:30 p.m. No one wanted to leave because the energy was there."
And because the actors worked for free, Buschmann said, their participation in the film was even more valuable because it was driven by a passion for the concept rather than material gain.
"We weren't paying people, but they wanted to be there," she said. "And it's our film. It's a collaborative process and everyone did their part. People felt respected and included."
When Buschmann approached Bessie, whom she had met at a screenwriting workshop at UCSanta Cruz, the 40-year film industry veteran but first-time thespian said his passion for the film overcame his uncertainty to attempt acting.
"I'm not really an actor, but they sent me the script and I was very impressed with it," he said.
Despite his inexperience, Buschmann knew Bessie was perfect for the part.
"I used my intuition," she said. "I was like, 'I know who I want—he's a writing instructor.' So I met with him, and took him and his wife to dinner, and I knew it was definitely right."
According to Bessie, first-time director Buschmann worked well with the actors, even with a first-time actor like himself.
"Jean was really good as a director," he said. "She knew what she wanted, and had an understanding of the characterizations. If the actors weren't giving her what she wanted, she was able to give us cues to enhance the performances. It was a smooth operation, and I was very impressed."
But Buschmann credits the actors' own understanding of the roles for the effortlessness of her direction.
"I had extensive conversations with the actors, and I realized they understood the characters," she said. "It came from some place that they could relate to."
Buschmann wants the viewers to come up with their own interpretation of the film, hoping that, in some small way, it will encourage movie-goers to examine their own boxes and reflect on ways to set themselves free.
"We are all one race—the human race," she said. "When we start to box ourselves in, that mentality leads directly to racism and hatred. It's easy to justify hatred when someone is 'other.' We can hate 'other' a lot easier than we can hate our own."
For information on where 'Boxed In' is being show visit www.sowhatproductions.com.
|