Producer Notes – Ed Barreveld

As an independent documentary producer you are always bombarded with “good” ideas from colleagues, friends, family and people referred to you by your colleagues, friends an

d family. Few ideas are worthy of even thinking of being turned into a movie. Some of them are worth consideration of development and eventually may turn into a film but once every blue moon a story or idea comes along that just demands to be produced.

When director Daniel Sekulich approached me with Donovan Webster’s Lionel Gelber Prize winning novel “Aftermath: The Remnants of War” in the fall of 1997 my initial reaction was “great, another book to read”. Reluctantly I started reading. Within minutes I knew that this was a book needing to be made into a film.

Donovan’s simple, but elegant, prose was able to deal with a number of issues at different levels. In France for instance, he weaves history, facts, figures and a deadly legacy into the everyday existence of a group of French demineurs (deminers). Their job is dangerous – over 600 demineurs have been killed in the line of duty since 1945 - yet they manage to enjoy an elaborate lunch - just about every day as we were to find out.

Not only was the writing so vivid, the tone so humane, it made me realize the true impact of modern warfare for the first time in my life: war is not over when peace treaties are signed and all the soldiers have gone home. It is simple when you think about it . It was confirmed by everyone we met and everything we saw all around the world. But it was Donovan’s book that opened my eyes.

Daniel and Donovan’s budding friendship helped facilitate obtaining the rights to the book. We did not have a penny in the bank and other filmmakers with money in hand had already approached Donovan. But he felt that he “wanted those guys up in Canada” to film his book. And so started a mad trip to find financing for the film. In addition to myself, Daniel had introduced Michael Kot as co-producer to the project. Together we worked our connections to cobble the financing together.

Putting the deals together was anything but a smooth trip. I always like to say that all the hard work in putting a “big” film together in this country is getting the money and that making the film is a piece of cake. An initial development deal in early 1998 fell through and it was through Daniel and Michael’s cocktail party skills that we were able to revive the project in early1999 (I was on location producing a series for a local documentary sweatshop). Peter Starr, our co-producer from the National Film Board, convinced his executive producer, Louise Lore to provide development money and Norm Bolen and Sydney Suissa, executives at History Television, put up matching funds. By this time we had brought an old friend and colleague on board as executive producer. Don Haig, the patron saint of Canadian independent film, provided sage advice in his nonchalant way and in time would introduce us to co-executive producer and one of the distributors of the film, Andre Bennett of Cinema Esperanca.

Daniel spent several months working on an outline for the film and Donovan flew up to Toronto so we could pick his brains for a few days. By the fall it looked like we were on our way to make a film as we had firm commitments from the NFB and History Television and were negotiating with the Aboriginal Peoples Television Network, Vision TV, the Knowledge Network and the Saskatchewan Communications Network. An application to the Licence Fee Program of the Canadian Television Fund had gone in and was looking good, or so we thought. There were a million other applications on the go with foundations and granting organizations. Though we didn’t like it much, since it would require interim financing, we knew we could count on the Federal and Provincial Tax Credit programs for any missing financing.

Our production schedule was shaping up. Events and weather were dictating departure dates. We needed to be in Vietnam before the end of May (bad weather) and we wanted to film a German war veterans’ group that would be visiting Volgograd in late May.

It got to the point that even though not all contracts were signed and in some cases still under discussion, we knew commitments had to be made to crew, local contacts and airlines. A major issue in the financing scheme was the decision by the Canadian Television Fund that was to be announced in the week before Daniel and I would leave for a scout, to be joined by our crew two weeks later. If we did not get their money, the whole project could collapse.

During the week leading up to our departure, in between getting malaria shots and picking up tape stock, I dropped by my office to check on messages. On the fax machine was a letter from the Canadian Television Fund informing us that we did not qualify. It was incomprehensible: we had the support of a major national cultural institution, not one but five Canadian broadcasters, a distributor who actually put a decent advance on the table, an autheur film and some of the finest talent this country offers lined up to work on the film.

A few phone calls later we were re-financed. Our production company, Aftermath Pictures, agreed to defer fees and actually guaranteed production cash which would negate a good portion of our own remuneration. Credit cards came out and, as planned, Daniel and I boarded a plane for Ho Chi Minh City, leaving Michael Kot behind to sort out all the paperwork and deal with calls from the field.

Of the actual shoot, which happened in two stages in the spring/summer of 2000, I have many wonderful but also sad memories. It is impossible to mention them all. Some choice ones: sharing wonderful meals with the French deminers – just like in Donovan’s book! Drinking warm beer in a bouncy van outside of Volgograd with roguish Valery Shtrykov at 8:00 a.m one morning. The seriously deformed but ever so lively orphans at the Tu Du hospital in Vietnam – straight out of a Charles Dickens’ novel. Celebrating Canada Day with Canadian peacekeepers at the SFOR barracks in Sarajevo.

On every shoot you meet special people and you make new friends. In Bosnia we were guided by a young deminer from Sweden named Bengt Olsson. For some reason, we hit it off and, after a hard day’s work, over many pints of beer at the Sarajevo Irish Pub, we would plan future visits to Canada and Sweden. On our last day in Sarajevo, also the last day of the shoot, I missed seeing Bengt; he was going to visit his family and fiancée in Sweden for a few weeks and had to run a bunch of errands. I was disappointed but figured that we could catch up later. Three weeks later I received an e-mail from our Bosnian fixer telling us that Bengt and two of his Bosnian colleagues had been killed by a landmine while retrieving bodies. Although Bengt never made it in the film, Daniel decided to commemorate him in the film’s postscript.

Upon our return to Canada we were pleased to find out that the Rogers Documentary Fund had decided to provide us with a modest production grant. It eased the financial pain a little bit. The Canadian Television Fund in the meantime had also seen the error of its ways and announced that it would make a special envelope for POV/autheur documentaries available in the fall. Suckers for punishment, we resubmitted our application, this time accompanied by a 16 minute promo and promptly returned to filmmaking. When we were informed weeks later that we qualified this time around the news was almost anti-climactic and bittersweet. We really could have used this money during the early stages of production.

It would be remiss not to single out a few people, other than the ones already mentioned, who helped in the making the film. Director of photography Michael Grippo poured his heart and soul into the production and it shows on the screen. Sound recordist Adrian Tucker provided pristine location sound and is responsible for some of the beautiful jib shots that were used in the film. Best of all, both were a pleasure to work and travel with. Russian/Canadian Felix Goloubev organized the Russian segment of the shoot and joined us in Russia to take care of all our needs. He is responsible for the helicopter which provides the spectacular opening shot of the Battle of Stalingrad story.

Deborah Palloway had to sort through hours of footage and brought a rare sensitivity and sensibility to the picture edit. Claude Desjardins and Eric Robertson provided a killer score for the film. Writer Allen Abel helped fine-tune our story. Post production houses Imarion and Film Sound One treated us like kings and did a beautiful job on picture and sound.

Now that the film is finished it is difficult to believe that four years have passed since I read the book for the first time. It is not an easy film to watch but it carries an important message. To quote our final line of narration: “These are dangerous times, for we have created wars that never end”. Watch the film and think about it.

August 2001