Maybe it was 3am. Maybe it was 4am — I can’t remember. But one night in late April, Matt Paley and I were standing at the edge of a pool in Brentwood, steeling ourselves against an improbably cold California rain and dreary temperatures, looking down at Purity Ring‘s Megan James waist deep in the freezing water, covered in black tentacles and slime, a bed floating along behind her, directors Ben and Alex Brewer in their wetsuits at her side, vibrating from the cold and their ninety-ninth cup of black coffee, and we knew everything had quietly (shooting all night — under the radar — in Los Angeles necessitates absolute silence, in case you’re wondering) come together. It was a perfect, delirious moment of filmmaking.
This was one of those projects. None of the lovely people — Lily Susskind, my mighty co-director; Matt Ferro, our genius behind the camera; STE’s own Jake Teresi, our enabler, producer, and host in New Orleans; Carsie Blanton, our musical muse and sponsor – had any idea if and when it would suddenly (in my unsteady hands) transform itself into something lovely, hard and brilliant, and I had only the slightest inkling (and only sometimes).
Certainly, it was a project with the makings of something good. Carsie had managed to round up a veritable who’s who of the world’s greatest swing dancers – Chance Bushman, Giselle Anguizola, Peter Loggins, Amy Johnson, Reuel Reis, Laura Manning and Lisa Casper — and we’d constructed a tiny crew equally versed in dance and film primed to push the boundaries of the dance on film we’d seen before. Thanks to the generosity and excitement of the performers who joined us, our time in New Orleans and the footage we’d collected was unbelievable. But in the editing process, trying to capture the spirit of all of these dancers and their opposing styles, to respect the dance and still cut it mercilessly, to delight in the magic of New Orleans without reverting to cliché, and above all to fit everything into barely three minutes of song seemed an impossible task.
And yet, at long last, here it is! Shot in the streets of the 8th Ward, inside a St. Charles streetcar, on the balcony of Mimi’s in the Marigny, and in the abandoned Six Flags in Michoud, Baby Can Dance is a celebration of life and joy and dance and a city that’s always pregnant with all three. Please enjoy.
Ruchiki is the story of Rachel Moeltz, a fifteen year old girl living in Pickering, Ontario, whose profound sense of displacement–in her body, with her parents, in her school, and her country–finds expression in an obsession with a beautiful Japanese pop-star, Ayumi Takanawa.
Ruchiki is, secondarily, the story of nineteen year old Ayumi Takanawa, plucked from obscurity at a young age by GoJam record executive Mushiro Hiboshi, who has been sexually exploiting his pop starlet even as he guides her career to fame and fortune.
It is also the story of Barney and Maxine, Rachel’s quietly desperate parents; of Banner Tutilo, star of the sadistic reality show EAT IT!; of Clark and Mickey, who want only to grow up and join Banner’s gang; of Pickering and Tokyo, of fantasy, reality, naiveté, wisdom, high school, youtube, and of a girl’s insistence on following her dreams, even at the cost of her innocence.
It is, finally, a short narrative film, written by Peter Warren, directed by Matt Paley, produced by Fletcher Deitch, Liz Phelps and Jake Teresi, with cinematography by Brian Barth and Jeff Kulig, and art direction by Sasha Winters. It is the first true Company film; a collaboration that involves all eight of us in many different roles. Filming begins in February and ends in June, and we will document every step of the process here.
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Ruchiki has been made possible by the generous contributions of the following individuals:
Laura Goldman and Scott Haas Gail Davis and Stuart Manitsky Charles and Nancy Barry Neva and Yossi Chait Mitchell and Arlene Frumpkin Arnold and Seena Davis Barbara Goldman and Neil Primack Robert Haas Alfred and Elaine Frumpkin Arthur and Cynthia Fertman Wendy and Stuart Schwam Joel Becker and Rusty Wiggs Robert Paley and Marianne Steiner
