DIRECTOR'S NOTES

In writer/director Damon Vignale’s film Little Brother of War, Jay (Brett Sherwood), guided by his dream world and sheer determination, brings an innocence to the screen. His character echoes themes that reflect the sad and uncontrollable turns that our lives can sometimes take. Unlike Jay, Detective Anthony Rosetti (Frank Cassini) has chosen his course through life. It is when he crosses paths with Jay that he begins to question his past and the choices he has made.

Threaded within a modern day story, Vignale draws on the powers of an ancient game to heal both a boy coping with circumstances far beyond his years and the detective that is sent to find him. As Jay and Rosetti’s journey unfolds, so does the journey within Jay’s dream world. Moving back and forth between these two realities, both stories culminate upon Jay’s final confrontation with the truth.

The writer/director talks about the film’s creation:

Writing: I simply just wanted to push every character to the edge, that place where you’re flat on your back, but still looking up. I’m not one of those writers who knows all the answers before they begin. I don’t use index cards and chart everything out. I need to be surprised along the way. The story evolved as I became more determined in my pursuit of it.

I had various drafts kicking around for years. I set out to make the film once before, however I eventually had to be honest with myself and admit that it wasn’t ready. I shelved the project and attached myself as a producer on another film (Zacharia/ 1999). A couple of years later I wrote an entirely new revision and showed it to Andrew (Hamilton). He became very excited and definitely got what I was trying to say. His comments were very insightful, so I asked him to work with me as a story editor. Without a doubt he brought out the best in my writing. It wasn’t long before we were both confident in chasing the necessary funding.

Inspiration: I had played lacrosse as a child, holding my first stick at the age of seven. One day when I was in grade eight we had a substitute teacher fill in. His name was Dave Roach. Mr. Roach was an ex-professional lacrosse player with the Philadelphia Wings, which of course was a big deal for me. Being an advocate of the game, he screened a promo reel of the Wings highlights for my class to watch. I had never seen lacrosse on television let alone film before and was very captivated by the images. So much so that after watching, I decided I would write a screenplay showcasing the game’s origins. I made it to the library for research that night, however, like most ideas at a young age, it came and went…

The thought of writing that script stayed buried inside me for many years. There's a mystical world within the history of lacrosse that I wanted to do something with. I don’t know of any other sport in history with such sacred beginnings. The Natives used the game for healing, where conjurers sewed bits of bats wings into the netting of player’s sticks and sewed inchworms into the lacrosse balls. These ceremonies were ultimately what inspired the idea of a story in the past healing one in the present.

Production: As a producer on the project, I naively thought that during production I would not only be directing but also dealing with some of the many producing concerns that occur while shooting. It became immediately evident once the camera started rolling that I could not do this. This was an extremely ambitious film to make and everything on set required enormous attention. I simply turned my back on the day to day hurdles of the shoot and remained focused on my actors and the camera.

There were a lot of emotional scenes to be shot. And of course we had a child on set, which raised its own challenges. Much of my job was about creating an atmosphere where the actors could feel comfortable in achieving their best work. It’s an incredible feeling to have an actor’s trust. You offer something, they offer something, and somewhere in the middle there’s the performance. There were no ego’s. The cast were a dream to work with, very professional, super committed, and most importantly giving of their talent.

Frank (Cassini) was involved quite early in the process. We’ve been friends for years and I truly admire his passion for the acting craft. He contributed a lot to Rosetti’s arc within the storyline. Our relationship from the outset was very open and trusting.

I’m not sure why, but I felt comfortable with Brett (Sherwood) and knew that he would give me the performance I wanted. We hired an acting coach (Babz Chula) for him to work with and I think that really helped in his understanding of the scenes and overall story. I drove out to Brett’s house before the shoot and spent an afternoon with him throwing a lacrosse ball around. If anything, that afternoon was the smartest thing I did in preparation with him before the shoot. I built a friendship with Brett going in.

Working with Ken (Hewlett) my DP was quite exhilarating. I was a little concerned at first that he might see my lack of directing experience as an opportunity to ignore me. I mean I didn’t know Ken before the shoot. Needless to say, I was very pleased with his respect and enthusiasm for what I was trying to achieve. We talked a lot about the film’s colour and separating Jay’s dream world and reality with distinct looks. There’s a scene in particular that stands out for me, it takes place in a motel room at night. Ken lit the room with just one light cascading through an open bathroom door. Rosetti is at the edge of the bed feeling pain over his father’s death. A blue TV flicker highlights his face. The lighting in that scene is as powerful as Frank’s performance. It’s exciting to see a scene fully realized like that.

Post Production: I didn’t intend to be editing on the film, however circumstances arose where it was necessary. Our editor Mark Lemmon had committed to a project previous to ours and could only take the film as far as a rough assembly. I teamed with an exceptional, up and coming editor, Brian Reilly, and for four and a half months we cut through the footage. I was pretty ruthless and I think it initially frightened Brian. I wasn’t married to anything and because of this made some big decisions quite fast. There are a lot of scenes we left behind on that cutting room floor. Andrew and our Executive Producers left us pretty much on our own. We couldn’t have asked for more. We brought them in every so often for input, then went back at it. The first time you cut a scene, you’re hopeful. The second pass through you’re excited. Presumably you’ve made it better. You screen a version for the producers and if you’re lucky they love it. Now you’re feeling really good about things. You move on. But you do come back to those scenes again, and again, and again, because you have to. You’ve still got to take a frame here and a frame there to make it perfect. Somewhere along the way, you start to lose objectivity and suddenly you’re questioning your future as a filmmaker because you can no longer stand what you’re looking at. I was left feeling pretty exhausted by the end of it and very happy to move on.

The score and sound design were exciting phases. This is where a film really starts to become three dimensional. I can’t say enough about what our composers Daryl Bennett and Jim Guttridge brought to the screen. They went the extra mile, as evident in their recording of the tenor and soprano singers for the opening and closing movements. They had them sing in Objibwe. One may not notice this because of the classical phrasing, however it is there.

Our sound designer Randy Kiss also took the picture to another level. Andrew and I wanted some exciting things to happen within Jay’s dream world and it became immediately apparent Randy knew what that could be. Working with Pinewood Sound, he gave us the time and care a film needs to reach its full potential.

Just when you think you’re in the home stretch, along comes the colour timing. Ken was somewhat stylized in his approach to lighting. We both knew what we wanted and talked a lot about the film being cool in its look. We also didn’t want to shy away from shadows. I personally like contrast in the frame, and Ken self-admittedly describes himself as “the prince of darkness”. We met with Dave Weil at Alpha Cine and rented him a copy of “The Insider” as reference. I’m a big fan of the look of that movie. Dave quickly got a sense of what we were after and helped steer the colours of the show toward a bluer spectrum. All of this, I think, helped bring across the emotional drama of the story. From the outset, I didn’t want that warm golden glow that puts one at ease. This was never intended to be a kid’s movie.


Little Brother of War