Fintan Connolly on making FLICK

 

 

Having thought about making a film, on and off, over a long period, I had some unexpected free time in the middle of 1996.  I decided it was time to defecate or get off the pot.  I wrote a treatment over that summer, quickly followed by a first draft screenplay, with a view to directing it myself.

 

 

I wanted to make a film in Dublin.  That was my starting point.  Jack’s character emerged pretty quickly -  middle class, well educated, but essentially rootless, drifting along.  Dealing hash, drinking, fornicating.  Unsettled.  Burning the candle at both ends. Setting Jack’s story against the seedy milieu of the lucrative, and increasingly violent, drugs’ scene would give the film a dynamic backdrop that would fuel the narrative.  Maybe in a perfect world, no-one would take drugs.  But we live in the real world.  Jack is just trying to get by.  

 

 

I approached Marina Hughes and Anna Devlin from Venus about producing it.  They liked it, they were interested, they optioned it for a year.  We got some development monies.  I was amazed.  I sat back, did some work on the screenplay, fantasised about various actors and waited for the big knock on the door.  It never came.  The year wore on, and by New Year 98, it was obvious that nothing was going to happen with Venus.  First-time film-maker, drug theme etc.  And All About Adam had emerged as a front runner for Venus.  The chances of shooting during summer 98 were zilch.  I parted amicably with Venus and picked up the greasy ball.  The year wasn’t wasted, however - the script was better, the realities of making films was clearer and I got to go to Amsterdam, Marrakesh, Cannes, Budapest and Zurich.

 

 

Fiona Bergin and I had worked together on a number of documentaries.  She knew I’d written a script, saw that the orthodox production model wasn’t going to happen or work and as the film was heading fast into development limbo, she managed to persuade some people - among them, a management consultant, a dentist and a retired civil servant - to invest in us.  Armed with some cash and a credit card, we went about producing the film ourselves.  We thought if we could get it in the can for the money we had, the Film Board might give us completion monies.  That was the plan.

 

 

Casting was critical.  I cast Isabelle Menke first, having met her in Zurich.  With Isabelle on board, looking for Jack became easier.  Along with casting director Gillian Reynolds, we auditioned a lot of young Irish actors.

 

 

David Murray strolled in one day and immediately stood out.  I went to see him perform.  He has presence.  And the camera likes him.  David and Isabelle met, got on.  Relief city.  When the two leads click like that, it sets the whole production off, gives everyone a boost.  David Wilmot came next.  The fact that he and David Murray were friends was a bonus.  Throw in veterans Gerard Mannix Flynn, Alan Devlin, Aaron Harris and Vinnie McCabe, alongside young talents like Catherine Punch, Alan Devine and Maria Lennon and the cast came together fairly quickly.

 

 

Even though, the Dogme 95 films were coming out and everyone was talking about DV, we always intended to shoot on celluloid.  Who knows, you might only get the one chance to make a feature.  So film it was.  V.F.G. had just set up in Ireland and gave us a good deal on the gear.  Owen McPolin had come on board as cameraman and we did some tests.  The new Kodak Vision stocks are very flexible.  They could catch that nocturnal atmosphere I was after, without the need for big, expensive lighting rigs.  Jack, himself, moves through the city anonymously.  We were as ready as we would ever be.

 

 

We put together a compact crew – first-timers like ourselves - and we shot the film in eighteen days, mostly within a three mile radius of O’Connell Bridge. We tried to follow some basic guidelines we had culled together from reading and hearing about low-budget film-making - namely, you write a script with a couple of characters in one location; you do an inventory of availability; you make it fit your budget; you rehearse well, talk everything through; you spend the money on getting the best gear you can afford; you keep the shoot tight - three weeks maximum; you use locations that are free; everyone defers their payments, but you feed and water them well and keep to a twelve-hour day, six day week; you shoot a ratio of 6/1 and you keep away from people who say it can’t be done.

 

We kept moving, which, in turn, kept the energy level high and as the shoot progressed, Dublin itself proved to be an exceptionally user-friendly location.

 

 

People leave you alone.  There was a good buzz on the set.  Everyone rowed in.  There was nothing to lose.  Problems had to be solved creatively.  There were no rows about money because there was no money. 

 

 

And the city itself stands out as ultimately photogenic, while also assuming the ominous tones of a modern city.  As soon as the rushes started coming back from the labs, you could sense a presence, an undertow, a ‘feel’ if you like, which allows the characters an immediate framework within in which to develop and to grow.  But more importantly, it is a place you think they cannot easily leave, which is, if you think about it, a good way of describing the urban environment.  The cosmopolitan way of life.  It’s colourful, brash, in your face, and it has an undercurrent.  

 

 

Then one day, we were finished.  We said our goodbyes, I headed for the edit suite.  Along with editor Mark Nolan, we cut the film in downtime - evenings, weekends.  We showed a rough cut of the first forty minutes to Rod Stoneman at Christmas and the Film Board subsequently awarded us completion monies.  The plan, for once, had worked.  Niall Byrne did a great score, we got a small orchestra in and recorded it over three days.  U2 gave us permission to use some tracks, which added to the film, as they are so readily identifiable with the city.  We did the sound mix and the lab work and two days before it was premiered in Cork last October, I saw it for the first time on the big screen.  Everything that had happened, and everything that went it to making it, fell away.  It was up there on the big screen.