Over the next month, we at IDA will be introducing our community to the filmmakers whose work is represented in the DocuWeeksTM Theatrical Documentary Showcase, which runs from August 12 through September 1 in New York City and August 19 through September 8 in Los Angeles. We asked the filmmakers to share the stories behind their films--the inspirations, the challenges and obstacles, the goals and objectives, the reactions to their films so far.
So, to kick off this series of conversations, here is Phil Grabsky, director/executive producer/writer of The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan.
Synopsis: Following the international hit The Boy who Plays on the Buddhas of Bamiyan, The Boy Mir tracks cheeky, enthusiastic Mir from a childish 8 to a fully grown 18-year-old over ten years in Afghanistan. This is a journey into early adulthood in one of the toughest places on earth, and a journey that mirrors the vitally important story of Afghanistan.
IDA: How did you get started in documentary filmmaking?
Phil Grabsky: As a kid, I wanted to be a photographer but at age 18, I went to India and was taken to a town called Dharamsala, where I met the Tibetans in exile. Their story was little known back then and I wanted to share what I'd learned--and frankly I felt I needed sounds and moving pictures to do that. So when I started photographic college the next year, I switched to film. During my time there I made my first film, The Dalai Lama of Tibet--25 Years in Exile, which sold to TV. I became an independent documentary filmmaker at that moment and have had no desire to anything else ever since...Well, that's not entirely true: Sometimes when I deal with the legal departments of broadcasters, I would rather be on any golf course in the world....
IDA: What inspired you to make The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan?
PG: By the end of the 1990s, three things had happened: I had spent the decade making films on subjects as diverse as Roman history, the Impressionist painters, Brazil, Java, Pele and Muhammad Ali, but I was increasingly fed up with what TV broadcasters now wanted. (In the UK, even Channel 4 was focusing on teenagers and the assumed belief that they had no interest in anything historical, cultural or international.) I believe that films, in some tiny, tiny way, have to be a power for good, not bad. I want to educate, not denigrate. Entertain, not demean. That increasing feeling that I simply had to go out and make the films I wanted to, rather than wait for TV's seal of approval, very fortunately coincided with the arrival of smaller, cheaper cameras like the Sony PD150.
Thus, having become intrigued, appalled and engaged by recent events in Afghanistan, I hopped on a plane in July 2002 to Kabul. I knew I wanted to make a film, but I didn't know what the story was, or who the character would be. That was both scary and exciting. When you watch the start of the film, all is revealed about how I met Mir. Audiences love that opening!
IDA: What were some of the challenges and obstacles in making this film, and how did you overcome them?
PG: Being killed. I don't want to sound either brave or flippant, but that is the main challenge of Afghanistan. It is a dangerous place--some of that is real and some of that is imaginary, but you can't take it lightly. That said, statistically I am more likely to die in an American city than an Afghan one. But security is always an issue; the trick is to be highly professional about it and be extremely prepared--and then embrace the wonders of Afghanistan and its people with open, and somewhat cautious, arms. Kabul is not Afghanistan, just as Washington is not the USA, nor Paris France, nor London Britain. This is a production issue, of course.
Creatively, the obstacle is just as complicated and difficult: How do I make the best, most compelling and revealing film I can about the country? I could choose to make a film about a sports team or a TV show, or I could embed with foreign troops--all are interesting--or, as I decided, I could go out to the countryside and spend time with an Afghan family. I am not 100 percent sure, but I have been told that no one has ever done this in quite the same way or as successfully. But that's in hindsight now.
Throughout these ten years, it was a continual process of communication, filming, editing and, not to be underestimated, fundraising. If I'm honest, that was actually the biggest hurdle; you'd think TV broadcasters would fall over themselves to be involved in a longitudinal project like this, which, I believe, shows a face of Afghanistan that every single person should watch, since I'm sure you all have opinions about the cost of the war. But TV broadcasters did not rush to come on board. It took years of patient effort to secure those I did secure. I cannot thank them enough but, guys, what took you so long?
So, at the end of the day, it's having the passion and stubbornness to ensure that this film is made--and the moral responsibility towards Mir and his family--that overcomes the obstacles.
IDA: How did your vision for the film change over the course of the pre-production, production and post-production processes?
PG: When I make films like In Search of Beethoven or Heavy Water--A Film for Chernobyl, I have a script, a sense of beginning, middle and end. With The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan, I had the first day of filming and the sense of heading towards Mir reaching adulthood around the 10th anniversary of the fall of the Taliban regime, but I had no idea what would be the "middle." That was both scary and liberating. My job as a filmmaker was to report as honestly and vividly the life unfolding of a young boy/teenager/man in perhaps the most significant hotspot of the decade. My vision was to share, as best I could, what I witnessed with the vast cinema-going and TV-watching population who would never have a chance to see this insight. That vision--more of an ambition--didn't change.
I also want to pay tribute to my colleague Shoaib Sharafi, who joined me after 2006 and was instrumental in capturing some of the remarkable footage we later filmed.
IDA: As you've screened The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan--whether on the festival circuit, or in screening rooms, or in living rooms--how have audiences reacted to the film? What has been most surprising or unexpected about their reactions?
PG: I've been lucky in recent years in that my films have done well in cinemas, especially when I'm there to do Q&As. My Mozart and Beethoven films ran in some cinemas in some countries for months. That's rare for a doc, and wonderful to achieve. But the festival reaction to Mir's film has been just as strong--but you'll always hear filmmakers say that, so let me talk about what has been disappointing.
First, we had hoped for a much better level of donation-giving (to our chosen charities, Save the Children and Afghan Aid, as well as to Mir and his family). People leave the cinema crying but they don't put their hands in their purses and wallets. That surprised me. Maybe too many docs these days ask for money.
Secondly, I have been disappointed not to get into two festivals we tried for--Sundance and London. I fear, though, there may have been maybe too many Afghan films recently (Restrepo, Armadillo, etc.), but also The Boy Mir is a film to be seen on the big screen, not judged on a computer by a festival selection executive struggling with hundreds of entries. Winning Best Documentary at Santa Barbara and the Audience Award in Washington was great, though.
The reaction of politicians and the military has also been powerful and rewarding. Knowing the film will affect how key players on the ground go about their business is justification enough for me.
The main thing overall is that audiences, of whatever nature, come away from the film realising that what lies at the heart of Afghan life is not drugs, religion, the Taliban or foreign soldiers, but something far more powerful.
IDA: What docs or docmakers have served as inspirations for you?
PG: I love docs. I try to watch everything that makes it to the cinema. There are so many good ones over the years, but the ones that I perhaps most respect are those that are crafted beautifully from top to bottom. For me too, the best awards we win are for cinematography or editing, rather than best doc or director. I just adore the craft of filmmaking. Thus, I love the work of a colleague of mine, David Bickerstaff; I've been motivated by the Australian filmmaker Dennis O'Rourke; and moved by the work of Paul Watson. But honestly, there are hundreds that I have enjoyed watching.
It is an art form, though; it's not enough to point a cheap camera at someone exotic and think that makes a film. A good film is extremely hard to make, and I fear as funding becomes harder and harder, such films will be fewer and fewer. That's why I can't wait to see all the films at DocuWeeks to have my enthusiasm renewed for the battles ahead.
The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan will be screening August 12 through 18 at the IFC Center in New York City, and August 19 through 25 at the Laemmle Sunset 5 in Los Angeles
For the complete DocuWeeksTM 2011 program, click here.
To purchase tickets for The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan in New York, click here.
To purchase tickets for The Boy Mir--Ten Years in Afghanistan in Los Angeles, click here.