Fine cut, picture lock, music, and sound design
It’s been exactly a year since I sent my last update about The Hands that Feed Us. Once again, it’s taken me far longer than I’d hoped to reach another milestone, but this year feels different. I was exhausted when I wrote my last update; this time, I’m struggling to make time to write from the middle of a whirlwind of finishing touches as the film gets ready for release.
Last year, I was optimistically hoping to have a fine cut by the end of April. I didn’t do too badly (by this project’s standards); I had most of the fine cut done by June, with only the introduction and conclusion left to do. I took the film to farmers I’d filmed with (at least, the ones in B.C. and Alberta who are within reasonable driving distance), so they could tell me how well I’d represented their words and make changes if they weren’t happy. This was nerve-wracking for me (and, I’m guessing, for them as well). My farmers were the first people to see a cut of the film outside of a very small circle of collaborators, and their opinions mattered more to me than anyone. Thankfully, the feedback was all positive. The most common sentiment was “when can we host a screening”.
Then my editor took a month off to work on another project. One thing led to another, and it took four more months to wrap up the fine cut — what should have been two weeks. At that point, I should have written a newsletter. I owed you all an update. Finishing the fine cut was a major milestone. But instead of sharing the news, I took a vacation. A whole week off, away from the project. The emotional release of getting through the fine cut was palpable. The hard work was done.
But not all the work. Instead of writing my newsletter, I decided to race for the HotDocs submission deadline, which meant getting to picture lock by December 12th. I had just over a month to get from fine cut to a state where there could be no more visual changes to the film. For a film entering the fifth year of its (original) six month editing timeline, could I really race through the final stage of the picture edit in a month? It turns out I could. On December 10th, two days before my deadline, I declared the film ready for picture lock.
Picture lock is necessary before the final steps of the film can begin: sound design, music, and colour. All of these happen apart from the picture, so it’s absolutely critical that the timing of the picture doesn’t change. What that means is the film is basically complete. The story, all the shots, the timing, the voiceover; all of that is done, and even if I want to change something, the time and expense of going back to the picture edit and re-doing all the sound to match makes it cost-prohibitive. Like it or not, if it’s not sound, music, or colour, the film is ready.
I dove into the sound edit over Christmas, and, true to the nature of the project, it’s taking three times as long as planned. But even with delays, sound will be wrapping up before the end of February (this month!), music should be figured out in a week or two, and colour will hopefully happen at the same time. If I’m very, very lucky, the film will be fully, totally, 100% finished in about four weeks. And if I’m not … what’s another month or two between friends?
Up next: Final cut, festivals, and (another) cross-Canada tour
I’m looking forward to taking a more substantial vacation once the film is truly done. I haven’t taken a real break since the whole world took an unscheduled break in 2020 and I decided that the best use of that break was to make this film.
After that … my producer reminded me that getting the film made is only half of what needs to be done, because putting the film out into the world is just as much work. I’m not letting myself actively start planning before I’ve finished making the film, but that doesn’t mean my imagination isn’t at work.
Broadly speaking, the film will have two releases: A conventional commercial release, where the film plays the festival circuit and eventually ends up on broadcast television (or, since broadcast television barely exists any more, on streaming services). And, a grassroots, cross-Canada screening tour where I personally host discussions inspired by the film.
Both of these are important for different reasons. The commercial release is my only hope (and it’s an uncertain hope) of getting financially compensated for the five years I’ve put into the film. I haven’t bankrupted myself yet, but I’ve been living off savings for a bit more than a year, my $60,000 Canada Council grant has run out, and I’m putting personal money into the film to pay for the aspects of sound, music, and colour that I can’t do myself. A successful festival run will put the film in front on an international audience, and hopefully help the film find a buyer (not to mention a wider audience). It’s a slim hope that enough buyers will show up to pay for five years of my time, but what chance I have lies in the lottery of film festivals and the whims and trends of the entertainment business.
Important as that is, I’m a lot more excited about getting back on the road. I’ve been talking about taking the film on tour from the start, so it’s not a new idea, but I’m starting to think about what it will actually entail. At the moment, these are thoughts, not plans, but here’s what I think will happen: I’ll schedule a few anchor screenings that cover as much of the geography of Canada as possible. These will be big, pre-planned events every couple weeks, done with partner organizations in traditional cinemas. This will give me a rough idea of where I will be at any given time.
In between those anchor events will be where the magic happens. My goal is to host 100 discussions on farms over the course of a year. These are simple screenings where the farmers invite their friends and neighbours. I will facilitate the discussion based on what I’ve learned in making the film, but the point is to use the film as a starting point to discuss neighbourhood issues, and to bring together a group of people who care about those issues and who know each other well enough to take action on them. The farmer will provide a place to meet, invite their friends and neighbours, and perhaps provide a meal if they are feeling ambitious. I will provide the film and facilitate a discussion. I’m imagining 10-20 people at a time — enough to fill a barn or a basement, but not so many that a group discussion becomes impossible.
While I’m on the road, I’ll start up my Vlog again and share weekly updates about who I’ve met and what I’ve learned. I also hope to do some written journalism, bringing news stories from the rural parts of Canada that get so little attention from regular journalists. And, I’ll have my camera with me, so who knows, maybe I’ll find the beginnings of my next documentary… Or maybe I’ll find some other filmmakers who need my services as The Documentary Sound Guy for a day or two.
Lastly, I want to use the tour to find a place to put down roots. Even though making this film has taught me (or confirmed) that I’m a filmmaker, not a farmer, I want to live in a farming community where I know my neighbours. I was born in Vancouver, but I no longer see myself staying here. I’ve known that since 2018. But I haven’t found where I want to live. So, while I’m crossing the country for a second time, I hope I’ll find a place where I can stay for good.
What does romance have to do with our economy?
I’ve been living in Coquitlam (a suburb of Vancouver) since 2021, which is a place where I knew I could finish the film without distraction because I know how to function here. Living here has been essential to finishing my film, but it has put me out-of-touch with the farm communities that inspired the project. I’ve noticed that, as time has progressed, I have written less about farm issues, and more about my self-aborbed foibles in making the film.
Much of the thinking behind the film crystallized while I was on the road in 2020. I haven’t learned much since I started the edit; I’ve simply been trying to organize the thoughts I already had. Now that I’m starting to think of the next step, I’ve started writing about farming again. The film has forced me to sum up my thoughts in a simple way, and I’ve written a new piece about where my attitude towards farming has ended up. Here’s a quote that came out of that process:
I believed we could build our farm together by being good at business and I didn’t realize she needed me to be good at romance.
The quote makes sense in the context of the film, but it’s not obvious what romance has to do with farming. I suppose I could just tell you to watch the film, but I want to share how I came to this conclusion:
What does romance have to do with our economy?
What’s next?
- Finish the film by the end of February.
- Plan a festival release for the film and start submitting to festivals.
- Plan how the film’s screening tour, and figure out how to support myself while doing it.
How can I help?
After five years making the film, I’m ready to put it out into the world. It’s time to start telling people. So, the ways you can help all relate to spreading the word.
- Host a screening in your community. Send a message to devon@thehandsthatfeedus.ca, I’ll add you to a screening list, and I’ll reach out when the tour begins.
- The tour needs to partner with agricultural and rural organizations that already exist. So I’m looking for introductions to people in those organizations. If you know someone in a farm organization, tell them about the film, tell them I’m taking the film on tour, and tell them this film would make a great special event. Send them my way at devon@thehandsthatfeedus.ca.
- I’m looking for rural newspapers, newsletters, country radio, podcasts, bulletin boards, etc. who would be interested if I brought the film to their communities. Please point me to your favourite local farm media. I’m not talking about the Western Producer or Real Agriculture. I can google those. I’m looking for the tiny community newspapers who know what’s going on in the town of Moonbeam, Ontario because they live there.