Writer-director Miro Bilbrough’s Being Venice sees the title character (Alice McConnell, Jewboy) having trouble with the men in her life. On the night her ex-hippy dad Arthur arrives in Sydney to stay on the sofa of her tiny apartment for a week, she is dumped by her lover and begins an ill-advised affair with her charismatic best friend Lenny. We had a few questions for Bilbrough about her film…
Hello from Flicks. What have you been up to today?
Biked to the Wilson St produce markets, had coffee down Enmore Rd, biked to Summer Hill to see a feisty Greek tailor, did a mass of dishes, read Geoff Dyer, made fresh beetroot, carrot & orange juice and washed off the magenta moustache.
Can you pinpoint the genesis of Being Venice’s narrative? And when did you feel there was a film in this story?
In the beginning was Lenny. Pretty much. Seen though Venice’s eyes & influenced by Jean-Pieere Léaud in The Mother and The Whore. A short, handsome man with an overweeningly large thought bubble, is how I imagined him.
The story didn’t feel like it had requisite weight or real dramatic engine, however, till the father, Arthur, entered the picture. He provided the friction.
As the characters and narrative came together, what were the elements that felt the strongest to you?
The counter-intuitive behaviours of the lead characters – behaviours that people didn’t always understand at script stage, but which I found most tellingly human. I also always liked the talk in the film: these people are talkers even though talk doesn’t necessarily get them where they might wish.
What felt like the most easy and difficult moments of getting the film into production?
Easy, I don’t know if any of it is easy, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a joy. Money is the fly in the ointment, always. Working with cinematographer Bonnie Elliot had elements of ease in it. Very quickly we established a way of talking about ideas, feelings, source material. In this way the film was shot-listed around my kitchen table over two intense but blessed weeks.
What was the most memorable moment of the shoot?
It was pretty dazzling seeing Venice’s bedsit for the first time, a private unveiling one Sunday mid-shoot. Alex Holmes, production designer, had converted this large room over a pub into a bedsit by way of Havana. It was just as we’d planned – and totally surprising.
Shooting Elodie Radzyner in the Coogee Pool showers was also memorable. The producer’s daughter was four at the time. The whole crew was squashed into a closet-sized space, utterly hushed as I sat under the camera on an apple box singing along with Elodie in her new spotted bikini, to coax her into the trance-like zone we see on camera. I felt like an idiot entering such a child-like state so publicly but the necessary magic did arrive.
This is a big question, and maybe something alluded to in the film, but how do you think parenting affects our romantic relationships?
There is certainly a primal scene in the film. I’ll leave the theory to Freud.
Venice’s affair with Lenny has been described as “ill-advised”. Is it ever a good idea to get involved with a close mate?
Maybe not with the girlfriend present.
What are some of the feelings you’re hoping to leave audiences with?
Disarmed, opened up, tender.
It’s been a little while since your last film. What was it like revisiting filmmaking again?
Unlike anything else and ferociously addictive.
Who would be the best, and worst, possible people to bring along to your film?
To bring to a screening? Bring along those who like to be surprised in the domain of characterisation & behaviour, and whose sense of humour runs to the wry. Maybe not those who prefer the girl next door & endings gift wrapped with bows.
What was the last great film you saw?
Beasts of the Southern Wild, Au Hasard Balthazar by Robet Bresson.
What are you thinking about doing next?
A feature film about erotically fraught inter-generational friendship.
Being Venice opens October 17th. Click here for more info and session times
