Esse Est Percipi
To Be Is To Be Seen

Ocularis and oPEN zONE
by Mónica de la Torre

 Stills from recent Ocularis films

The most recent screening oPEN zONE, a sample of short films and videos by local filmmakers presented by Ocularis, reinstated film's unmatched power of seduction. For close to four hours (I had to leave before the screening was over) I paid no mind to the lack of heat and the uncomfortableness of the chair that I was sitting in. Who decided that all moviegoers want Cineplexes, by the way? A gratified voyeur, for only three bucks I was able to watch more than twenty pieces that I wouldn't have been able to see anywhere else. And, should I have wanted to, I could even have been sipping a Cosmopolitan.

Most of the work was quite good, and I only wish the program had included more information on the filmmakers in order for me to be able to follow their work in the future. Taking place at Galapagos — where Ocularis features screenings of "invisible film" every Sunday and Monday — I felt like I was at a party where I didn't have to talk to people. Perhaps this said less about me than about the type of program I was watching. No matter how good the films could be, I doubt anyone except the organizers could sit through five hours of them. At the end of each hourly program, I noticed that the people in the audience looked totally different. That was because most of the filmmakers appeared with a group of their friends at the time when their piece was scheduled to be screened, and left shortly after. This made me wonder why they paid their $10 entry fee, when they could have had the same friends over for a private screening.

Ocularis is a not-for-profit organization founded in 1997 by a team of curators and artists including documentary filmmaker Donal O. Ceilleacher. Their two-fold mission was to establish an art-house cinema where independent, foreign, and older classical films could be featured, and also to provide a forum for independent filmmakers to screen short and medium length works and engage in critical dialogue. They achieve this by screening retro features preceded by shorts by local filmmakers (who are invited to participate in Q & A sessions with the audience) each Sunday night, and by exhibiting special programs of experimental, independent shorts, documentaries, and other "invisible cinemas" every Monday night.

Under the motto "to be is to be seen," screenings like oPEN zONE let filmmakers be filmmakers. As much as all other artists, their creations are not completed until audiences gaze at them. This makes double sense in the case of videos and shorts, which are seldom screened outside occasional festivals, and which generally constitute the only endeavor filmmakers without exorbitant budgets can accomplish.

I was struck by how, despite their being very different from each other, most filmmakers were working along the following lines: a) I want my MTV..., b) Give me the cash and I'll give you a motion picture, c) When in doubt, steal! Footage is everywhere, d) I know, this should be in a gallery where you're not forced to look at it for ten minutes, but..., e) I've seen Matthew Barney's films, and just because I don't have a million dollars doesn't mean I can't be an artist too! or f) I'm Indie, what are you? Had there been a dialogue among the filmmakers, it would have been interesting to find out where their different work actually intersects. Unfortunately, it seemed that those interested in telling stories had little interest in exploring nonlinear narratives, and that those defining themselves with the experimental tradition were mindless of aspects that could engage the viewers more.

Regardless of the tradition they were aligning themselves with, many pieces were highly engaging. I truly appreciated listening to the live drum and violin performance, like in the early days of film, during the gorgeous 16mm short film "Poetry" by Yuko Sueta. I wish all clowns were as adorable and funny as the clown in Anthony Ferraro's "Coney Island," which belongs to a series of nine videos that take place in Coney Island. I'll definitely keep my eyes open for future productions by Marc Schotland, whose 16mm short film "Odd Job" was excellently written. The piece showed how you can make films in the tradition of Quentin Tarantino and the Cohen brothers, while still making it new. And the timing for Bryan Boyce's video "Election Collectibles" could not have been better. Boyce lifted scenes from the telemarketing show "Shoppe @ Home" and superimposed images of Al Gore and George Bush selling a "Campaign 2000" plaque. The result was hilarious. Seth Kirby's strange 16mm piece "In Search of the Marlboro Man" had great potential. Unfortunately, the story of a man who falls in love with the Marlboro Man was cut a bit short.

I found myself drawn to those pieces in which the filmmakers avoided the temptations of solipsism by telling compelling stories, creating multidimensional characters, or generating scenes that dislocated the viewer ever so slightly. When they succeeded, I couldn't help but be in awe of what these films could do in such brief periods of time. Like short stories, videos and short films constitute a genre in themselves and should not be seen as a stepping stone in the route towards feature films. Ocularis is doing a great service to both filmmakers and viewers by screening them on a regular basis.