Chance and Luck

Remarks for the Victoria International Film Festival

“How can you say luck and chance are the same thing? Chance is the first step you take; luck is what comes afterwards.” – Amy Tan, Joy Luck Club

I want to talk about chance and luck. In making the film I certainly had a lot of luck, but it was all a consequence of first deciding to take a chance. To saying “yes” to something. Although I knew a great deal about a few parts of the business of film production I was essentially unprepared to be a film maker. In hindsight there’s a thousand things I would do differently. The flip side is if I had fully grasped what was ahead, I probably would have been more worried – terrified even.

When I heard about Ali's swim, I sent a note to Shannon McPhail that said something like, “I’m sure somebody is going to want to tell this story, please ask them to give me a call and I’ll do whatever I can to help”. A reply came back saying thanks, and how would you like to do it? And I said yes. Everything after that was luck.

Chris Gee, one of the rescue kayakers on the trip, told me Ali started out by saying she would try her best and he said she had to do better than that. Unless she could say she was absolutely committed to completing the swim, how could she ask people to put their faith in her. She did. And then he was in one hundred percent.

As big a leap as I thought I had taken, Chris was reminding me I had to be fully committed. My first piece of luck was to say yes to something that was ultimately very important to me. Something to which I could deeply commit. One must have passion. Without a consuming need to see it through, there are a thousand instances to turn back. The reason I could be passionate was that there was a purpose. Making the film was a logical extension of an underlying desire to do some good and be a part of a bigger cause.

Once you’ve said yes, have conviction and don’t be shy talking about it. Help sometimes comes from the places you least expect it. I sought out people who could give me advice, and without exception they did. I suspect it was partly because my conviction was obvious. One of the reasons I could be up front with people goes back to purpose. I was trying to help a cause. If a more experienced or better financed producer had come forward, I would have stepped aside.

The short time frame, along with the fact that I had never directed a film before ruled out a great many options. It was soon obvious I would have to do it largely on my own. The whole nature of the production shifted. No time. No money. These two facts steered me towards a do-it-yourself style, and I would have to be largely self-sufficient. This was as much a consequence of being along for the ride on the expedition as the swim took priority and Ali set the pace. There would be limited support and no re-takes.

What it did have was a natural story and a great cast of characters. You knew it was going to end, but didn’t know how. In the middle of the trip I still had no idea what the story was. I just had to keep shooting and hope some of it would be useful.

I had missed a chance to interview Yvon Chouinard ahead of the swim and we loosely rescheduled. In his note he said “we’ll know then if she made it.” Which I thought was kind of cruel at the time. But when we eventually did meet up in Kispiox he had spent some time with Ali and had seen the trailer we had put together. Patagonia had decided to award her the environmental activist of the year – an accolade she had inspired them to create. He had a much deeper connection to Ali and the story, and consequently it was a superior interview.

It was a great piece of luck that there were other people highly motivated to see the story told and were willing to help. They were captivated by purpose and the community that formed around the film was absolutely essential.

I try to be honest about what the film is, and what it isn’t. It became clear to me early on that I could never be detached or truly objective. I was too close to the team. We had spent so much time together and been through too many shared moments. What I could try to do was be an organizer of arguments from a particular point of view. I think that’s the essence of storytelling.

The film screened in Denver at the 2011 Festivus Film Festival, where it won best documentary film.

After the screening I had an interesting question about what was the hardest part? My answer was editing. Because of my inexperience in the craft of filmmaking it meant I didn’t get all the shots I would need. The story was unfolding on the fly, and it was impossible in that instant to determine what might be critical. I was constantly seeking a balance between shooting enough and at the same time managing resources – power and memory – without interfering with the expedition pact and the time table.

I ended up with a variety of source video from different cameras that gave the editors nightmares. The location of the editing facility in Calgary, when I was living in Toronto, was a challenge. But it meant thinking it through on paper. I transcribed every word of dialog and detailed ever shot on a timecode spread sheet.

In answer to the same kind of question somewhere else, my encouragement was to tell the story with what you have and not what you imagine you wanted. The challenge was about subtraction, not addition. How much could you take away and still drive the narrative forward.