There are highly 'poetic' films, but my experience of films based on
poems has been mostly disappointing. Certainly other Canadian poems
have been filmed, so to speak. With a deadly literalism concerning
imagery. If the language says, say,
> I crouched behind the caraganas,
> watched Larry nail the snake to a telephone pole.
why then the film will show exactly that as the voice over speaks it.
Well, I havent seen this one, so maybe not, but my suspicions are
rather high given what I have seen....
Doug
On 10-Nov-09, at 3:53 AM, Max Richards wrote:
> If you get the regular e-news from the Poetry Foundation in Chicago
> you will
> have already noticed this:
>
> NOVEMBER 9, 2009
>
> Poetry Foundation and Chicago International Children’s Film Festival
> Award
> $10,000 Poetry Film Prize
> CHICAGO — The Poetry Foundation and Facets Multi-Media are proud to
> announce
> that Fear of Snakes, by filmmaker Andreas Mendritzki, is the winner
> of the
> second annual Poetry Film Prize. The prize awards $10,000 to a
> filmmaker whose
> use of verse in film opens new artistic vistas and inspires children
> to
> appreciate poetry.
>
> Mendritzki’s film is based on the poem of the same name by Canadian
> poet Lorna
> Crozier. Unique to the field of poetry as well as to the film
> industry, the
> Poetry Film Prize celebrates the best film based on a poem or poet
> while also
> recognizing excellence in language and cinematography. Jury-selected
> from among
> more than 90 entrants, the award was presented on Sunday, November
> 1, at the
> closing night ceremony of the 26th Annual Chicago International
> Children’s Film
> Festival (CICFF).
>
> The Poetry Film Prize was created as part of Reel Poetry, a larger
> initiative
> between the Poetry Foundation and CICFF that highlights the
> possibilities of
> poetry in films, especially those directed to younger audiences.
> Based on a
> young girl’s memories of a summer day when she overcame her fear of
> snakes,
> Andreas Mendritzki’s winning film Fear of Snakes (Canada, 2009, 6
> minutes)
> artfully depicts a reflective and intimate poem.
>
> As the filmmaker describes it, “For me, the film—and Crozier’s poem—
> remind me of
> what ‘adults’ often forget: Children are much more aware of their
> surroundings
> then we give them credit for. They are every bit as attuned to the
> gravity of
> events as their older kin—in fact, probably more so.”
>
> Nicole Dreiske, founder and artistic director of Facets, underscores
> the
> significance of such a prize as it relates to children’s learning:
> “Creating
> films based on poems gives children a special opportunity to connect
> to poetry
> in ways that are richly layered and deeply meaningful. The music,
> the images,
> the cinematography, and the poetry reading itself open new sensory
> and emotive
> paths in children’s minds, and create a unique tapestry of
> experiences from each
> poem. By encouraging excellence in this highly specialized area of
> filmmaking,
> the Poetry Foundation has created a visionary bridge for children in
> our digital
> age to enjoy and appreciate poetry.”
>
> etc etc
>
> I paste below the Crozier poem, a pleasant enough piece of writing.
> But I really wonder how much visionary bridging can be done along
> the lines
> mentioned above.
>
> Fear of Snakes
>
> The snake can separate itself
> from its shadow, move on ribbons of light,
> taste the air, the morning and the evening,
> the darkness at the heart of things. I remember
> when my fear of snakes left for good,
> it fell behind me like an old skin. In Swift Current
> the boys found a huge snake and chased me
> down the alleys, Larry Moen carrying it like a green torch,
> the others yelling, Drop it down her back, my terror
> of it sliding in the runnell of my spine (Larry,
> the one who touched the inside of my legs on the swing,
> an older boy we knew we shouldn't get close to
> with our little dresses, our soft skin), my brother
> saying Let her go, and I crouched behind the caraganas,
> watched Larry nail the snake to a telephone pole.
> It twisted on twin points of light, unable to crawl
> out of its pain, its mouth opening, the red
> tongue tasting its own terror, I loved it then,
> that snake. The boys standing there with their stupid hands
> dangling from their wrists, the beautiful green
> mouth opening, a terrible dark O
> no one could hear.
>
>
>
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------
> This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au
>
Douglas Barbour
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http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
Latest books:
Continuations (with Sheila E Murphy)
http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=664
Wednesdays'
http://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com/2008/03/new-from-aboveground-press_10.html
Good taste is as tiring as good company.
Francis Picabia
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