Author: bradleyfung

Colin Williams – Filmmaker & Writer

Colin on the set of Methodic.

For my first external feature, I had a chat with Colin Williams, a man who wears many hats including filmmaker, writer, music producer, and black baseball cap wearer. This is our chat about our common beginnings, his entry into filmmaking, and what exciting adventures lie ahead.

Beginning our conversation, we discussed our shared history of acting as our gateway into the performing acts. Colin made the choice to pursue acting at The University of Victoria after developing this passion throughout high school. One of the catalysts in his pursuit of acting was a successful role as Grigory in Chekhov’s The Bear, but he admits that the connection he felt to this character was not always present with others. In his words, Colin began writing to solve this problem and create “characters that I found interesting, that I would want to act in”. This progressed into spending more time writing than acting, as well as a growing interest in filmmaking as a whole. He said he “wanted to learn the whole process” in order to create his own opportunities, and gain the control to produce his own work. From there, moving behind the camera was a natural, but by no means given progression.

The Ups and Downs of Filmmaking

To pursue filmmaking Colin left Victoria and headed to Vancouver to enroll at The University of British Columbia. The culmination of his degree in Film Production was a year-long endeavour to create Methodic, a film that garnered awards and selections at several film festivals. This was Colin’s first entry into filmmaking on a large scale complete with an experienced cast, crew, and resources at his disposal. He describes this process as the “biggest learning moment” of his career so far, sharing stories of writing the script, building each scene, and the close connection he felt to the cast, crew, and story. Colin says his favourite memories from Methodic are, “the little moments,” collaborating with key creatives to bring the script to life.

One such story he shared was a conversation with the lead actress, Meaghan Chenosky. He described sitting down with her to discuss the next scene, as the set was being prepared behind them. They traded differing views on her character’s motivation behind the scene, but Colin chose to put his trust in her experience and encouraged her to follow her instinct. He told me that this decision paid off as “she did it incredibly and cried every single take,” bringing a completely different emotion to the scene than he had anticipated. He said that “to see that happening in something that I was directing, an emotional moment” was a memory that has stuck with him far beyond the cut.

However, his experience on set was full of ups and downs both figuratively and literally. On the last day of filming Methodic, he found a quiet moment alone in the balcony of the theatre. He admitted that his cap may have been feeling tighter than usual as he soaked in all that he had accomplished over the last year. But as he descended from the balcony to film the last few scenes, he tripped and “absolutely tumbled,” down the stairs, landing at the feet of the high school student hired as a Production Assistant. Thankfully after a quick dust-off, he was able to continue with the shoot without any other mishaps. I wonder what happened to this Production Assistant. Did this experience jumpstart her passion for filmmaking? Did it bring to light the perils of a film set, scaring her into another field? Or did it confirm that black baseball caps are an affordable, yet effective piece of head protection? I’ll need to conduct a follow-up.

Building Character

Looking back on what he learned from Methodic, Colin said that despite initially pursuing writing to write characters that he would like to play, he eventually found it beneficial to maintain some separation between himself and the characters he created. He cautioned that in order to maintain an objective lens free from positive or negative judgment, a writer has to be able to step back away from the script. That is not to say that a writer should not invest themselves in the script, but a reminder that “those different characters are the space to develop your idea”. The relationships that form between the characters is where he tries to synthesize his arguments and communicate the message behind his films.

To expand on filmmaking as a means of communication, Colin states that he loves how films “generate conversation about the actual ideas,” discussed within the plot. Furthermore, he expressed that it isn’t only positive reviews that catch his attention; rather his excitement came from “when someone says anything, I don’t even care if it’s bad”. I feel that this openness to criticism for the sake of discussion is hard to find, even more so in regards to the often guarded nature creatives have regarding their work, myself included. Please like this article.

Next Narratives

Colin’s newest endeavour is his pursuit to make a narrative album, creating music to pair with film to create a visual and aural experience. Essentially this would manifest as several short films with individual songs as the driving force behind each one, that when stitched together form a complete narrative. Colin recently made Speaking of Silence, a film similar to this style in which music was the engine behind the story. This was Colin’s first step into marrying music and film production into one, and he expressed his excitement for exploring this new field. He goes on to say that he feels that art is “about connecting with people more than it is about anything else,” and that experimenting with new forms of expression and connection keeps him motivated and creatively energized. Personally, I’ve only encountered this form of filmmaking a few times and it is truly a unique form of storytelling.

Despite this high-level discussion on filmmaking Colin also wanted to remind us that “people forget that this is absurd,” and that the blurred lines between technical application and the creative process result in some truly bizarre moments. From his experience, the juxtaposition between creating a beautiful mise en scène and “getting naked in the middle of Tofino” could occur in the very same moment. He described this balance as “dangerous interplay,” and I thought that this was a beautiful way to summarize the relationship between a performer and an audience, not to mention a great tag when I share this article.

Colin stated that one of the toughest aspects of filmmaking is the “massively long delay in gratification,” but I hope you enjoyed reading his story as much as I enjoyed writing it. To keep up with Colin, he is on Instagram as himself, as well as his page for Speaking of Silence. Also, in case you missed it, here is the link so you can watch Methodic. Thanks to Colin for taking the plunge as the first feature, and thank you for reading, see you next week.

-BF

If you missed last week’s article check it out here!

Bradley Fung – Humourist

Photo Credit: @skyeoftheportman

Hello, my name is Bradley and I’m the creator of this blog. I hope everyone is staying safe and productive during these unusual times. The fight to stay productive is a major reason behind why I decided to start this project; I don’t think I’m the only one with some unexpected time on their hands. Naturally, this is something that I hope to continue beyond social isolation but for now, I’ll consider starting it a good first step. Before I feature anybody else I will begin with myself. When asked why I chose to do this Bradley replied, “because I’m a narcissist”.

Acting Out

Growing up, I never saw creative pursuits as extra-curricular activities, and I often found myself spending more time on these endeavors than traditional coursework. Maybe that’s why I currently find myself unemployed. I digress, but some of my earliest memories are with a pencil in my hand, drawing. To put my affinity for drawing into perspective, one year for Christmas I received a box of printer paper from my grandparents with the instruction to “Only do good work” with it. That was a damn good Christmas. As someone who was on the shy side, art was a great hobby for me, free from any reliance on partners or public adjudication.

That changed when I began high school and was accepted into a leadership program for grades 8 and 9. A requirement of this program was enrolling in four key subjects for the entire two years: English, Social Studies, Physical Education, and Drama. I greeted the first three subjects with warm familiarity, but Drama was uncharted territory. What happened next was a surprise to both myself and anyone who knew me, as I discovered a passion for acting. I was fascinated by the challenge of convincing someone that the person that stood before them was not me but in fact someone else. This was the only class where lying was not only allowed but encouraged. Over the next few years, my passion grew and I was fortunate to gain representation and begin performing in commercial work. But my relationship with commercial work grew complex; I loved pursuing a career in acting but also felt myself becoming unsatisfied with the peppy, ever-smiling nature of the industry. I wanted more dramatic material in the pursuit of what I thought was “real acting”. Don’t worry, I now also recognize the hypocrisy in feeling that acting was too artificial. Despite these efforts, I continued to find more success in comedic roles. When my university studies began, I decided that some success was ultimately better than none, and I committed to studying acting as my major.

Unfortunately, my passion for acting quickly waned both scholastically and professionally. It was difficult to accept that my complete devotion to something I loved wasn’t all I had dreamt it would be. However, this gave me great insight into the high failure rate of marriages. The inconsistent nature of professional acting combined with my theory-heavy courseload grew tiresome and I decided to pursue other professions. However, no matter what other hobbies I tried, I found myself missing the performing arts.

Starting in Stand-Up Comedy

Lacking any vocal ability to sing or calf-strength for ballet, I eventually decided to try stand-up comedy. I found comfort working in a genre that had treated me kindly, and I was instantly attracted to the individual commitment required by the performer. Whether I bombed or had a good set, there was no one else to credit but myself. I also appreciate the humility that I’ve found in comedy; the fanfare, ego, and artificiality I felt much too often as an actor could not be more different than the basic presentation of a person and a microphone. Comedy is also the most honest art form that I have encountered; the jokes that resonate the most with me are rooted in failure, insecurity, and embarrassment. To me, these are universal truths that far too often are dismissed despite being an inescapable part of the human condition. Comedy is a vehicle in which we can recognize our shared struggles without the promise of blind prescriptions or solutions. Falls, families, and farts affect all of us in one way or another.

Stand-up has provided me with the creative outlet I’ve always needed, and perhaps the most balanced one I’ve found. Looking back over the last few years, I feel very lucky for the opportunities I’ve had to watch, meet, and perform alongside the vibrant and hilarious stand-up community here in Vancouver. Hopefully, I will continue to be energized by stand-up; at the very least the futile pursuit of trying to “finish” a joke should keep me busy for a while. If you’ve stuck out this whole post, thank you. I promise this is the most I’ll ever write about myself, and I guarantee that the next post will expand into the community I claim to champion.

Find me on Instagram at @bjfung3 to follow my adventures in stand-up, as well as my beer photography. That’s right, I have a creative outlet that I didn’t even mention in this post. This blog is full of surprises. See you at the next one.

-BF