FLY: How To Make A Film by Steve Courtfield

“A brilliant multimedia innovation from the Netherlands. Live acting, live music and live camera work combine as audiences witness the creation and production of a short film.”

This is not a normal review, but then again, FLY is not a normal film. Its an 8 minute short that is produced right before your eyes. Its live theatre captured by camera, and streamed instantly onto the wall opposite where the performers work with energy and enthusiasm. And the audience can choose to watch either entertainment during the show.

Live theatre, 8 minutes long: so what on earth is this review doing here? Why does FLY deserve a review on a film review site at all?

The answer is simple, if you are a real film buff, who takes film seriously, or if you are an aspiring film maker trying to improve your craft, this production is an inspiration to us all. Though such a simple plot, writer director Vincent de Rooij and his colleagues Osilla Lakatos and Daan Mathot take us on a stunning journey, that feels both real and immediate. Most importantly however, it succeeds where many big budget features fail- for its entire duration we can suspend belief and live the dream.

For your $5 dollars you are hustled into a big shipping crate. On the way to your seat you pass a music suite consisting of guitar, keyboard, kazoos and whistles run through a mixer. Ahead of that is an amazing combination of space suit, gyroseat, model planes, maps on walls and a camera on a bendable mount. Seated on a plain wooden bench, you face the far wall of the shipping container and wait.

The doors close and Vincent introduces the film. “Think chicken soup!”, he says. As the lights dim, we do as he says. In the darkness a moment of claustrophobic nervousness sweeps through the audience before the projector begins to illuminate the far wall and the film begins.

Reverse POV up through the bottom of a bowl of (clear) soup. Vincent’s eyes bulge into the wide angle lens as he hungrily spoons the delicious broth to his mouth. Suddenly we hear a fly and watch eagerly as Vincent’s eyes follow its flight beyond the projected frame. A quick glance over at the performers reveals one staring into the camera through a bowl of water, another making buzzing sounds into the mike.

But the spell is not broken, stare back toward the wall at the projected image, and once again you are transported into the film. The fly appears buzzing on screen, wiping its dirty feet on the edge of the bowl as the irritated Vincent brings the empty spoon down from his mouth and crushes the fly with the back of it.

From this point on its takeoff! We travel skyward, toward the heavens as the dead fly’s soul goes to meet his maker. The world shrinks below us as the camera twists, turns and swoops wildly to the backing of guitars, whistles and shrieks. Vincent the cosmonaut is flying through space, tumbling end over end amongst the solar system’s heavenly bodies. A quick glance toward the performance end of the container and we see Vincent spinning free of gravity in his gyroseat the camera in his face streaming this wonderful, fantastic and very real performance onto a screen only metres away.

It doesn’t matter which way you look, the magic never lessens. Even when you turn to study the performance, your eyes are naturally drawn back to immerse themselves in the filmic depths of the projected images. Acting now merges with visual art as music meshes with the unpredictable, relentless movement of story and screen.

To summarise the plot, after journey to the end of the universe, Vincent returns to earth, as that which he destroyed. To describe the film in any further detail would do it an injustice. FLY has to be experienced to be understood.

And that’s the reason for this review, and why if you want to make a film, FLY is a dynamic demonstration of how to do it. It just goes to show you don’t need to be tricky to make a film that excells. The script is honest, the acting excellent and its all put together in front of you using real old fashioned effects.

So next time you see an amazing action sequence in a Hollywood feature film, ask yourself, could they have done it live in one take? Ask yourself if you need a budget to make a killer short film? And ask yourself, how if you could push the limits of live performance and change the face of film making you’d create that vision for real.

If you’re not sure about the answers to those questions check out the FLY when it passes by an arts festival in your neck of the woods. It will give you inspiration and joy to know that real film making still lives in the hearts and minds of those who love the medium of live performance and moving images.

FLY: How To Make A Film
By: Steve Courtfield