Charting a director’s journey through the independent film landscape.
It’s always been hard to get a film made. That’s something that’s been true, no matter who the filmmaker is or what kind of project they’re hoping to bring to life. Sure, some eras in the past have had their booms where auteurs and mavericks flourished. For the most part however, it’s always been a tough struggle. As a critic I like to think I have something of a concept regarding how the business side of the industry works and I pride myself on realizing how hard it is for a filmmaker to get their work made, let alone seen. But as the Fantasia Fest selection Clapboard Jungle shows, getting a movie made these days seems all but impossible. In the documentary, filmmaker Justin McConnell documents what ends up being a five year journey of meetings, rejections, detours and false starts all while trying to get a number of his projects off the ground and onto the big screen. Part traditional documentary, part reaction to the industry McConnell faces every day, Clapboard Jungle is a story of survival in an unforgiving industry.
From a technical standpoint, Clapboard Jungle doesn’t really pass muster a straightforward documentary. It’s rushed, unevenly paced and uses far more interviewees for its multitude of subjects than it needs to. It’s not that any of the subjects McConnell covers isn’t worth commenting on. The whole five years the director worked on this project saw him observe and take note of the many, many problems and challenges facing the young independent filmmaker and their continued presence with each passing year. Everything from not being able to secure funding until a name actor is attached (and vice versa), to the issue of under-representation, to the importance of film festivals (including Fantasia ,which the director cites as one of the outlets he’d love to screen his film at) as an indelible lifeline for filmmakers, is covered; and much more. The result is a documentary experience that, in an effort to be informative, ends up feeling incredibly scattered. Plenty of names (both famous and unknown) turn up, each with their own frustration-filled tale of trying to survive in the business. Iconic directors George A. Romero, Guillermo del Toro, Richard Stanley and Mick Garris offer their two cents as do legions of festival programmers and independent film producers on what it takes to make it in the industry. Even this works both for and against Clapboard Jungle as an audience member may find themselves both trying to absorb everything the interviewee is saying while wondering what famous face will show up next.
I should be a bit more forgiving of Clapboard Jungle’s shortcomings. My guess is that its helmer probably started out thinking the film would be nothing more than a video diary (McConnell charts everything from his health to his feelings following meetings) before realizing his story might be worth sharing. I too can see the value of turning his journey into a document about what being an indie filmmaker actually takes. There’s a real bravery and an undeniable level of vulnerability in Clapboard Jungle as we see an artist putting his struggles and frustrations with an industry he’s trying to further break into on full display. The fact that McConnell doesn’t always show the most flattering side of an industry most dream of making their mark on doesn’t make the film a hatchet job, per say, but instead comes across as an honest account of one man’s experiences within a flawed system. It’s the director’s level of truth and showing how he rebounds from every conceivable heartbreak the film world could inflict onto an artist which makes Clapboard Jungle feel 100% authentic. Furthering this is the plethora of valuable insights and sage advice from those who have survived the jungle long enough to “see their name in lights,” those still in the trenches fighting for their work and those on the sidelines acting as both a victim and a perpetrator of the industry, for lack of better terms.
I sincerely hope that anyone interested in breaking into the film world from whatever behind-the-scenes level watches Clapboard Jungle. Even if it isn’t the most solidly-made documentary, its worth as a guide (or even a bible of sorts) for the burgeoning filmmaker cannot be overstated. The main through line of the piece shows McConnell trying endlessly to get one of his passion projects, Lifechanger, off the ground. Seeing him take fall after fall and watch as he wrestles with his own complicated feelings about what he’s devoting his life to pays off when his film is released to the kind of acclaim he and countless other filmmakers constantly dream about. It’s hard not to feel sentimental seeing him screen his film at multiple festivals all over the world and being greeted with rousing applause at each one. Through it all, the joy and gratitude seen in McConnell’s face makes Clapboard Jungle both a cautionary tale for filmmakers and firm proof of how worth it the journey is.
