My (amazing) partner and I recently shot a short film in NZ. It is perhaps what you would call an ‘experimental’ film, in the fact that we had absolutely no idea what we were doing or how the story would unfold. Exciting in a horrifying ghost-train sort of way. We arrived in Wellington just after midnight, after our flight had been cancelled due to lightening damage, and ended up having to spend six hours at the Virgin lounge (there is only so much free beer and food one can take before the onset of cabin fever). We then had to take a connecting flight to Brisbane, in which Andy was seated between two of the largest men I’ve ever seen on a plane. I laughed the entire flight. We should have been filming then. We could have won $10 000 on Australia’s Funniest Home Video and funded our next film. Damn!

So after arriving at our hotel at around 1am and waking the poor hotel boy to let us in, we were up bright and early to begin our first day of shooting. Back to airport for the pretend arrival. At this point we still had no idea why my character was travelling to NZ or what she was planning to do. It was a complete mystery to us. We had however booked a camper-van, so we knew there would be some driving involved. Driving?? By George, I have it dear Watson…this is a travelling film. So Andy filmed a lot of me travelling. Sounds riveting, I know, but as we travelled north the scenery was breath-taking. Snow caped mountains and all that. This is of course where Peter Jackson filmed Lord of the Rings. We thought even if this film doesn’t make any sense, at least there will be some nice background shots.

I continued to drive as smoothly as possible, while Andy bounced around the van trying to get the perfect framing. We bickered occasionally, blaming each other for our lack of organisation. But once we accepted our fear and embraced the unknown, things got a lot more fun. This little film was teaching us a thing or two. Life really is about the journey, not the destination. Don’t worry, that is as deep as I’m going to get.

On our final night of shooting, Andy got me drunk, so I don’t remember much of it. The rushes look awesome. I’m in a pub on one of those snow-skiing machines. I think I was having a ski-off with a 8 year old. He won. Then we got this amazing shot of me stumbling home in the dark. I’m under a street lamp while this car just happens to drive past. Hard to describe, luckily film is a visual medium. Trust me, it will blow your mind.

The film ends with…wait a minute…I can’t tell you that. There has to be some element of surprise. So we survived our first international film shoot (its amazing how words can be deceiving). Andy has done a rough cut and is working on post-sound. Our little experimental film is coming together. However, I’m still not sure what it’s about. But, hey, I feel the same way about life. Maybe we’re not meant to.

"The two Andy's enjoying the festival...yes little Andy does have his pants down."

So I went to Dungog Film Festival about a month ago. Yes…this is a very late blog. My excuse being that I’ve never written a blog before and I was having a little ‘blogging’ anxiety. I always get like this before I start something new. Some may say I’m somewhat of a perfectionist/control freak. The thought of not completely knowing what I’m about to do creates a lot of neck and shoulder tension for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to get on the ‘blogging’ wagon. I thinking ‘blogging’ is great. Hence the reason I’ve started one. So here I am, writing my first blog.

But back to the official topic of this blog, the Dungog Film Festival. It was my second year attending and I’ve have to say my first experience was a little more enjoyable. Maybe my expectations were too high, since I had such a memorable time the year before, or maybe it was because I got the flu. Who knows? I did, however, enjoy spending time with my wonderful friends and breathing in some fresh country air. Actually the reason we were at the festival was because our short film Bird Therapy was screened. It had also been a Tropfest finalist and to be honest I much prefered watching it on that huge deluxe screen at Hyde Park, than on some high school projection screen at the back of the Dungog RSL. I’m a bit of a snob, I know.

\”Bird Therapy\”

"Womabah homestead. This house (inanimate object) is so cool it has its own name."

One of the highlights for me was the gorgeous homestead ‘Womabah’ that we stayed at. This place was so homely it made you’re Nanna’s homemade cookies look pathetic. I don’t care what anyone says, country folk are friendlier. (Maybe because they don’t have to spend an hour in traffic on their way to work, but that’s not the point.) For me the proof was in the  folded face-washers and chocolate fred-o-frogs placed neatly on top of our pillows. Off the radar friendly! I felt like I’d walked onto the set of my imaginary life (this is the home I grew up in). There were vases with fake flowerers, mismatched floral bed linen, and a wait for it…an outside dunny.

"Me reading some trashy magazine on the dunny. You can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the girl.

I know I haven’t spoken too much about the film festival itself. I did go to a few film screenings and workshops, all of which were enjoyable. David Williamson’s Masterclass was thought-provoking. He had a lot of interesting things to say about the state of the Australian film industry, much of which was mildly depressing. I did drop into the local watering hole for a few pints with mates. Had some killer pancakes from a street stall that cost like $3.50 or something. And the entire time the guy was smiling at me. Living in Sydney, I’d forgotten what friendly service was like. Just kidding. Not really.

My only beef with the festival is that I think the tickets are too expensive for the actual filmmakers. We’ve already poured our savings into making the film, now we have to pay to watch it. It’s seems ridiculous to me. With travel, accommodation, tickets for the festival, food and booze, it ends up being an expensive little adventure. Which is fine because I work five jobs to support my artistic endeavours and the government can pay when I succumb to mental exhaustion and end up talking to walls.

Sorry I got side-tracked. All in all, it was a fun festival. I got to spend quality time with friends, drink some nice Hunter Valley wine and watch my carnivore primates devour a roast lamb. As Oscar Wilde would say, ‘It was a perfect weekend in the country.’

X Candice