Getting the Kids in the Picture
My stint as a volunteer on Lights-Camera-Learning in Action
BY TT CLINKSCALES


Lights-Camera-Learning in Action, a pilot project from Happen, Inc. and the Cincinnati Film Society (CFS), along with a number of business sponsors (including CityBeat), is not about making dreams come true. That's usually the first thing people say when you talk about programs for kids. That's also the stuff of liberal Hollywood feel-good movies that have nothing to do with the real world. Remember last year's Hardball? Keanu Reeves coaches a kids' inner-city baseball team by hitting a couple of pop flies and letting his star pitcher listen to Biggie Smalls on the mound during games. The kids matter only because they are part of Keanu's redemption.

Taking a different stance, Lights-Camera-Learning in Action chose to provide kids, ages 10­12, an introduction to the filmmaking process. On the first four Tuesdays of July, a group of kids from Project Connect, a group that helps Cincinnati children experiencing homelessness, teamed up with local filmmaking professionals to write, create sets and props for, produce, act in, and direct a six-minute film, The Wonderful World of Brady. The final Tuesday was all about enjoying the red-carpet experience with the premiere at the Cincinnati Art Museum.

As a volunteer on the screenwriting team, I shared a writing table with Bob Woodiwiss (the former CityBeat columnist) and some highly motivated, imaginative spirits who accepted the challenge to become filmmakers in the broadest sense. The creative labels that designate the division of labor on a film set were hopelessly obsolete. Our writers pitched ideas to the producers, improvised dialogue with the actors, took on roles in front of the camera, and powwowed with directors and cinematographers on shot angles. The independent film community talks about the collective nature of their sets; we lived the experience. There were no oversized egos threatening the process, just a proud group committed to making the best film they could. By the end of the fourth Tuesday, everyone involved in the process had earned the right to be considered a professional.

In shooting Full Frontal, I understand director Steven Soderbergh tried to strip away the movie-star trappings by having his performers handle their own makeup, costumes and driving to and from the set. He wanted his actors to reconnect with the basics and the spirit of the work on an earthier level. Big whoop-dee-do! Next time, Steven, come back to Cincinnati and work with the talented crew of professionals at Lights-Camera-Learning in Action.

In The Wonderful World of Brady, Tarzan comes to the city in search of his sister Tarz-annie, where he meets a host of colorful characters like Cool-Brain Luke, Hot-Button Helen and Trashin' Tony. Our chief studio security officer was a dead ringer for Dewey from the Scream series. There was also a guy wandering around the set with an old school movie camera for a head; his name was Flick. He never said a word, but nothing draws out smiles and goofy charm faster than having a lens in your face; whether or not you think it's real. In Flick's case, one of those three lenses was recording a very real and moving document of the behind-the-scenes learning in action. In fact, Flick's footage will be part of a documentary film about the whole Lights-Camera experience to be shown at a CFS screening later this year.


Guerrilla filmmaking is about energy and imagination. It's having the will to make something out of nothing. At Lights-Camera, white foam board was transformed into jungles and cityscapes with a touch of black paint. Cutout costumes and props came to life under the influence of these young visionaries. To borrow a tagline from Showtime, there were no limits.

The faces of the Lights-Camera kids are the faces of actors, directors, writers, artists and producers. They are not the next Brad Pitt or Denzel Washington, Steven Spielberg or M. Night Shyamalan, Frank Darabont or Conrad L. Hall. These kids can only be themselves.

The cliché, of course, is that the kids were the bright lights, the brightest lights of all. As a writer, I wanted to present this program without resorting to feel-good phrases and sentimental cues that would tug at the heartstrings. I aspired to the truth.

 
 
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