INTERVIEW WITH THE DIRECTOR
Appearing in the Chicago Lithuanian Daily Draugas and reprinted in part in the Lithuanian daily Lietuvos Žinios
First of all, we would like to learn more about yourself and Planet Korda Pictures.
I am more of a director than a producer and I formed PKP 5 years ago, with my friend and co-writer Bartolomeo Dibenedetto (we were both living in Paris and working on a documentary project that ultimately never got finished), in order to be less dependent on other production companies to get projects off the ground. Although living in Paris, we formed an Irish company, registered in Dublin, because it was easier, administratively, than forming a French one, and because we had several ideas for projects that involved an Irish angle in some way. There are a lot of independent Irish production companies already, we knew that, maybe even too many, but like everyone else, we wanted to have control over what we did, and when. We had experienced the frustration of having a middle-priority project with a large French production company, where lots of time went by without much happening.
We are a small company, often struggling in between projects, but we are trying to expand this year and get more than one single project happening at a time, which is essential in order for independents to survive and turn over sufficiently regularly.
When was the first time you heard about the Lithuanian terminology “book smugglers”?
In Kaunas I was with a friend in May 2008, and we walked by the statue of the Knygnešys. It’s in a very solemn and stately part of Kaunas, so I imagined at first that the statue was the “Unknown Soldier,” which would be typical in a city like London or Paris or even Dublin. But she told me that it was the Unknown Book Smuggler and then told me about this story of the Knygnešiai, which I found fascinating. Of course at first I thought it could be an interesting film, but I was certain that it had would have been done many times in Lithuania. So I was quite surprised after doing a little research and discovering there was no professional film about the Book Smugglers, even though it is a phenomenon that that everyone knows. Still, it was a couple of months before I realised that there could be an Irish angle on the story that could make it interesting not only back home in Ireland, but in other countries as well.
How challenging did you find this project?
All projects are challenging, very challenging. Just to finish one and get it out into the world is a huge challenge, and this was no exception. Particular challenges were, for example, in financing, to convince the Irish broadcasters that this story was pertinent and relevant, because it’s not immediately obvious perhaps. And because we had so many financiers (11 in total, each contributing relatively small amounts), it was a challenge to get everyone to agree on what form the project was to take. I had always envisaged, for example, a creative documentary, but some were seeing a more purely historical documentary more typical for television. Next, how to imagine this Irish perspective that was natural rather than forced, where I could get this kind of parallel story going of the fates of the two languages, and where the two characters would be looking at each other’s history but at the same time also looking at their own in a kind of twisted mirror. Then, to imagine how a poet – who I had not met at that stage, I had no idea if I could actually find such a person! – might experience this journey and what he/she might say, whether I could find a person who would experience the journey and the story in a way similar to myself, without of course having to put my words in his or her mouth. Not to mention a poet with the required physicality, who would be willing to trudge through the forests all day long for days at a time, and swim in the Nemunas, which for me was essential! More generally, in the conception and the writing, to express intellectual and essentially verbal ideas, about words and books and language, through a visual medium: that was certainly a challenge, because I always wanted the film to work on a poetical and sensorial level rather than an academic one. And of course working with three languages (Lithuanian, Irish, Russian) which I did not understand, this was an obviously constant challenge, throughout preparation, shooting, and editing. But thankfully my team was solid and supported me well.
And your association with Era Films?
I met Rasa Miškinytė at the “Sunny Side of the Doc” documentary market in La Rochelle, France, in June 2008, when the project was still embryonic in my mind. I talked to her about it and she was interested, although naturally cautious at first, because it’s not always easy for two production companies just to meet like that, without knowing each other, and embark on a big project together. But our relationship developed and in the end the co-production – which was a “natural” one in the sense that the subject matter more or less demanded such a thing – worked out very, very well. Rasa is a more experienced producer than ourselves, with a bigger structure, and her knowledge and experience, as well as the facilities her company provided, not only the actual equipment and machines but the team of people she was able to assemble, opened doors for us and physically allowed the production to happen. It was a very fruitful collaboration and perhaps we will work again together..
And Vinegar Hill Productions N.I.?
I asked David Rane to enter the co-production essentially for strategic and tactical reasons, namely, so that we might qualify for finance from Northern Ireland. So in that sense it was initially a marriage of convenience, and he was always going to be the minority co-producer and was less involved or physically present than ourselves or Rasa. But David is also quite an experienced and accomplished producer, and as things went along, and especially towards the post-production stage, he offered advice, guidance, and also arranged specific deals for us that turned out to be absolutely invaluable. Sometimes when things start to go wrong, or get a bit hairy, as they inevitably do at some stage, David always remained calm and could offer great advice about how to handle certain situations.
There were four producers of this film: a Lithuanian Miskinyte, a Canadian Cullinane, an Italian Dibenedetto (who actually studied medicine at the Universita Cattolica del Sacro Cuore), and an Irish Rane (correct me if I’m wrong?). How easy or difficult was it to create a harmonious dialogue with different cultural and national backgrounds in creating this film?
Well, funny as it may sound, this mix of unusual backgrounds and nationalities has more or less always been the case for us, and in a sense it’s our modus operandi. The more unusual the nature of the project and the mix of backgrounds involved, the more it suits us. That sort of defines our company. Bartolomeo and I work together, so we know each other very well. From that point it’s a question of finding other collaborators who have the same artistic sensitivity towards the subject matter, and both Rasa and David (despite what I wrote above) were the right fit for the type of collaborator we were looking for. They are people of integrity on an artistic and professional level, and that is proved by their respective previous works. After that, it doesn’t really matter where everyone is actually from (and David, for info, is actually a South African living in Ireland for many years!)
How long did it take from its inception to the realisation of the final product?
Let’s see: idea was born as mentioned previously in May 2008, mentioned to Rasa in June 2008, then some low-intensity writing and research for a few months, gradually progressing to the emergence of a full treatment. We got some initial finance from the Lithuanian Culture Ministry in 2009 which enabled us to do some research/scouting shooting in August/September 2009, from that we cut a trailer and were able to look for finance over the winter/spring 2009/10. Shooting was in May/June 2010, editing in Vilnius July-September, then sound work in Ireland, subtitling, all that, and it was finally ready more or less the day before the premiere at Scanorama in Vilnius on 19 November 2010. That makes 2 ½ years altogether!
In choosing an appropriate name for the film, did you run into any problems? Does the Irish and English titles “Smuigleri Leabhar / Book Smugglers” truly reflect “knygnesiai”? (I also noticed on the web it labelled as “Mangairi Leabhar” – can you explain the linguistic finepoints?)
I should say that, as an Irish boy who grew up in Montreal, I didn’t have much Irish myself, so I was dependent on others for accurate translations. And, yes, translation is always a big issue, especially when dealing with poetry like we do in this film. Leabhar is “books” (or “of books”) – that much is clear. Mangairí is a word meaning more or less “handler” or “dealer” and could have that same kind of negative connotation as it does in English (i.e. people might think of drug dealers or arms dealers). I resisted Smuiglérí at first because, like some words in Irish, it is pretty much an Anglicism, from “smuggler.” I was genuinely shocked to learn that there was no “indigenous” Irish word for “smuggler,” given our history and our nature, but there you go! But the broadcasters feel better with the title Smuigléirí Leabhar and that’s all right with me. I did like in Knygnešiai the notion of “carrying” because it’s important to note that these people actually carried these heavy packages of books themselves, over long distances, but we couldn’t get that in either the English or the Irish translations without losing the “smuggling” aspect. I am guessing, embedded in your question is the whether the connotation of illegal activity works against the film – obviously I don’t think so, but I think it is clear in the film that we draw attention to the fact that what could be seen as criminal activity at one time, and in one context, can be seen completely differently through another perspective, at another time.
One can not help noticing how freely and genuinely Gearoid MacLochlainin appeared in comparison to an uncertain and frigid Albertas Vidziunas.
I disagree. They are certainly different characters, but I do think they complement each other nicely, although that might not be everyone’s opinion. You should remember that Albertas was at times struggling with the English, and that Lithuanians with better English have a tendency to judge him harshly, in my opinion, for this reason. But I think he brings a very interesting, funny, and unexpected contribution to the film and that they make a good pair, in an “Odd Couple” sort of way. They work off each other. Albertas has a wonderful mind and he is able to think of things and express ideas that no one would have thought of. He can say the most incongruous things at times that seems so strange but they have their own validity. Take for example the “Tower of Babel” / “Tower of Bubbles” scene on Gediminas Tower at the end. By accident, we had been around the city without the two actors, shooting cityscapes, and I already had shot these 2 girls blowing bubbles. Now Albertas starts talking about bubbles, and it suddenly makes sense, in an unexpected way. So this kind of thing was his contribution, even though people may think he appears more awkward and less charismatic than Gearóid.
By the way, is Gearoid a professional actor?
No not at all. Although he does have a lot of charisma on the screen, many people have observed that.
It seems that even a tragic page in the history of Lithuanian history with the suppremation of the Language can take on even a whimsical slant – be it the segment where the children react scenes of book smuggling, the scenario where Gearoid and Albertas take unforms and play the role of Russian gendarmes, or the first to the first grade class room. Its freshness seemed Irish, as it would be rather difficult to assume that Lithuanians who are by nature minoric and pessimistic could react that way? Was this your touch to the film Jeremiah?
Yes, although, as you point out, the subject matter is rather dark, it was my intention to keep the tone light. At first I had sort of imagined the film as a rambling river journey in the style of Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. I wanted to keep the film playful, at times humorous, maybe even slightly provocatively so – I suppose you could say that is my style. Whether that is Irish or not, I can’t say, but it’s true that we often tell stories with our tongues in our cheeks (I don’t know if that expression translates well to Lithuanian…!)
What would you consider the strongest symbolism in your film? Trees? Rain? Storks?
Certainly the nature, in particular the forest, and even more particularly the oak trees, was a strong feature in the film, a symbol, yes, but also a constant poetical presence. Nature and its beauty and awe-inspiring symbolism of life and creation was an enormous inspiration for both Lithuanian and Irish poets, whose work was then carried illegally through the forest by the book smugglers. The forest offered protection and hiding from the danger outside. There is also the symbolism, as Gearoid says, of smugglers spreading the seeds of knowledge who are then themselves represented by seeds of trees in the smugglers Oak Grove… It all seems to turn round and round. As for the storks, I found their “language” so beautifully unique and mesmerising that I had to put it on the film. You might think that their clackety-clacking language also defines their “storkness.”
Do you think that the Irish and Lithuanian historic pasts are unique and incomparable?
No, we have much in common: essentially agricultural societies, peasants, on the edge of Europe (although I know the French geographical Society once put Lithuania in the middle of Europe!), and dominated politically and militarily by our larger neighbours, also the deep devotion to Catholicism and the underlying conflict with our pagan pasts… these are all comparable points. Finally, today, both Lithuania and Ireland, as independent republics, are relatively young countries, still trying to define themselves in a certain way, and both are quite small countries trying to find their voice in this very large entity called the European Union. I should add that we Irish are always curious and fascinated to know what other people think about us and about our country, sometimes too much, in my opinion, to the point of self-obsession. But after my time in Lithuania, I suspect that Lithuanians are also curious to know what others think of them. And here lies the beauty of the film, because it can be seen in both ways: an Irish perspective on Lithuania, and a Lithuanian perspective on Ireland.
Comparisons can only go so far, however, and it is important to recognise the boundary between comparison and generalisation. What is interesting in this case is, given similar predicaments, that the Irish people and the Lithuanian people made different choices. Of course at this time we had no official Press Ban, although there were different restrictions against Irish language in previous centuries. So one cannot make one-to-one comparisons. But still, one way or another, the Irish decided, collectively, that they (we) could remain Irish without Irish language, that other things were enough to define ourselves, whereas the opposite was the case in Lithuania: it was unthinkable to exist without the language.
Without one’s language, one’s country is doomed to extinction. Do you think that that might happen one day to Ireland or Lithuania?
This question is almost too difficult, and, despite my name, I am not a prophet. Perhaps “doomed to extinction” is a bit dramatic. Countries and societies have a way of evolving that escapes the powers of prediction of most observers. But I do believe in the threat posed by the enormous merchandising commercial machine of global multinational capitalism, which can be quite depressing if one thinks too much about it. and certainly, in my opinion, the maintaining or in our case revival of the native tongue is a safeguard against this and also a means of resistance. Changing your language also changes your actual way to think – this was the great debate in the film between Gearoid and Sigitas – but of course this is also one of the most difficult things to prove.
Perhaps Prussia vanished from the surface of the earth because it incorporated German in its culture and daily life?
Perhaps… I am no expert in Prussian history. But it is interesting to note that most people think of Prussia as the ultimate Germanic society, when in fact, the original Prussian people in this region were actually Slavs.
The film had its world premier last November in Vilnius and Kaunas. What was the feedback from the mass audience and the media?
It was fantastic. I was quite surprised how strong the reaction was. Many people said the film made them feel very proud (to be Lithuanian) although it was not particularly my intention to make a film to make Lithuanians feel proud…! Other people were very curious to know how the provocative aspects of the films would be received by an Irish audience.
”Book Smugglers” had its US premier last night in Chicago. Did the attendance and audience reaction meet your expectations in light of the fact that it was not widely publicized?
Yes – of course for a Premiere at the Chicago Irish Film Festival, it was interesting and amusing to note that the Lithuanians easily outnumbered the Irish-Americans in the cinema. Of course it is always possible to publicise more but given the context I think the festival did quite a good job, and if you look, there was plenty of advertisement and publicity.
But as I said before the screening, it was important for me to hold the premiere in Chicago, as this city was such an important destination for both Lithuanians and Irish, two of my crew plus Albertas himself spent years in Chicago (Albertas’ parents now live in Chicago) and, especially, Lithuanians and Irish immigrants here made important but different decisions, concerning language, which distinguish them from each other in their attitude and approach to identity.
The questions posed after the screening, which were intelligent and well-informed, showed a very strong interest in the film, and the fact that it went on for almost an hour shows that the film was at least successful in giving spectators something to think about.
How do you envision the film’s premier in Ireland?
To be honest I am dying with curiosity — the premiere will be this Sunday 13 March – I don’t know how the Irish will receive this “affront” humorous as it may be. The language question tends to be very polarised in Ireland and people can get quite passionate about it. On top of that it is once again a very topical question because the new government is proposing to not make Irish a part of the compulsory school curriculum anymore, which makes some people very angry, and others satisfied. So I am expecting anything.
BBC will be broadcasting Book Smugglers in two months. A political decision with an underlining statement “Ireland is doomed because it lost its language?”
I think whoever would support such a statement would be a very brave person, maybe also a foolish person. I admire courage of BBC to support my project, and to broadcast it, what would have been unthinkable 15 years ago, but I think the situation is far more complex than to say that Ireland is doomed. Or to say definitively that we have lost the language. It is a strange situation, because the language will not live, and it will not die. But who can predict which way it will go in the future?
Or is the fate that Gearoid exemplified in his comment “too much nationalism can be a bad thing”?
He has an interesting perspective on the language because he has lost the sense of excessive nationalism that people can feel in their youth, especially in Ireland, and especially growing up as he did in Belfast during the Troubles. He now has a more measured and mature approach towards language, and hopes that one day (like many people hope) people can speak Irish, naturally and normally, without it being seen as some kind of political statement. I find his “post-nationalist” way of thinking very healthy, in fact.
Do you have any plans for another joint Irish – Lithuanian cinematographic venture?
Yes, possibly with Rasa again, but it’s too soon to say.
In closing, as a Canadian born individual (if I remember – you do not speak Irish), do you suffer from identity conflict? Remembering a quotation from your film “A Lithuanian who does not speak Lithuanian is considered not a real Lithuanian…”
Yes, you are right, it is something that affects me greatly, and I have suffered from this identity conflict in the past, although I think that I have moved beyond it now, although I suspect that this conflict of identity is in itself a formative element to my own identity, in a twisted sort of way. I was actually born in London, to Irish parents, which makes it even worse, because English-born Irish are sometimes considered as “less Irish.” Then we moved to Dublin, and from there, when I was only 4, we emigrated to Canada because there was no work for my father in Ireland. In Montreal, we lived in an Irish-Catholic and Jewish minority neighbourhood inside a larger Anglo-Saxon/Scottish Presbyterian Protestant minority, inside a French Canadian Québécois minority inside the English majority of Canada. Afterwards, I spent 15 years living in Paris, like a Frenchman but always outside the French mainstream. It sounds like a joke but my whole life has been a succession of this kind of series of Russian eggs of minority within minority.
Today, in Ireland, it is preposterous to suggest (out loud, that is) that an Irishman who does not speak Irish is somehow less Irish, you would be laughed out of the country, and yet this is the provocation that Sigitas puts forward, and maybe the thought that is in the back of the mind of some people. It is also a double-edged question, the kind I like, because it refers not only to the Irish, but also hints at the status of the Russian minority in Lithuania today: a question which I asked many times but never really got a satisfactory answer to. Of course they are Lithuanian citizens now, and the political issues of citizenship, which are perhaps still more pertinent in Latvia, are less relevant. But are they truly accepted by Lithuanians, as Lithuanians, into Lithuanian society? Do they feel Lithuanian, even though they have Russian as a mother tongue? This is less clear.
To be perfectly practical, Irish for me and for many English-speaking Irish people is just like a foreign language. It is possible to learn but it will never be native for us. English is our mother tongue and it is stupid to pretend otherwise, or that we are somehow going against nature not to learn our so-called “real” native language. It’s too late for all that, and we can’t go through life with this romantic thinking. And yet, the beauty of life is that we are not “perfectly practical” all the time, and we live with contradictions, and, yes, I do feel some kind of calling to learn this damn language once and for all!