Christine Vachon: Mogul on a Shoestring

"There's a part of me that would love to make an epic," admitted Christine Vachon. She was tak­ing phone calls during a break in the New York editing room where her newest pro­duction, Postcards From America, was under­going its final cut.

"There's something to be said about making a film that appeals to lots of peo­ple," she continued. "But there's also some­thing to be said about making a movie that really moves a few people. Actually, I would like to be able to do both."

Christine Vachon is the Manhattan-based producer of such extremely con­troversial (and high­ly acclaimed) movies as Todd Haynes' Poison and Tom Kalin's Swoon. She has been hailed as one of the leading figures behind the so-called "New Queer Cinema" and as one of the major players in the new American independent film movement. Vachon was even profiled last month in The New Yorker, and Hollywood studio executives are closely monitoring the impending release, this summer, of her lesbian romance movie Go Fish. At the age of 32, Vachon is the latest, hottest trendsetter in sight.

All of which boils down to, on one level, the fact that "I don't have much of a per­sonal life," she moaned, explaining that she just spent most of the week working on budget figures. "And I'm not sure how much good I would be in Hollywood."

But she's one of the best independent pro­ducers around. Her films are risky, audacious and — like them or not — hard to forget. They're unconventional, daring and often disturbing, — but they're also visual feasts.

"When I take a film on," said Vachon, "I not only have to be able to sell it, but I also have to be able to live with it."

Producing movies isn't simply a line of work for Vachon. It's her life. She works primarily with friends and close associates and views each movie as a collaboration of equals. She's an admirer of the films of Jean Renoir and uses a "democratic" production system similar to the co-op movie-making methods used by the old French master.

"Each time, I try to form a collaboration that will last forever," she laughs. These work relationships may not last forever, but so far they've held together well.

On April 8 and 9, Vachon presents a two-part artist-in-residency program at the Wexner Center for the Arts. The Friday evening presentation is an advanced screen­ing of Postcards From America — a wild, nightmarish journey through a mythical America that's loosely based on the life of the artist David Wojnarowicz. On Saturday afternoon, Vachon offers a workshop on the ins and outs of independent film producing.

"I would like to demystify the process for other people," said Vachon about the workshop.

That means she intends to get down to the brass tacks (and taxes) of how you do it. Take a notebook when you go. Vachon knows what she's talking about.

Go Fish

If you can imagine a cross between She’s Gotta Have It, Annie Hall and The Women, then you’ll have a bit of an idea why Go Fish is viewed in Hollywood as the first lesbian romantic comedy with the strong potential to win a mainstream audience.

The fact that Go Fish is extremely funny and very accurate in its observations about sex and love is a big plus in its favor. And it doesn’t matter whether you’re male or female, straight or gay – the jokes are on target either way.

That’s one of the reasons why Go Fish is the must-see independent film of the year. Its all-female ensemble cast and girl-meets-girl storyline is a rare treat in the male-dominated American cinema. But its shrewd and knowing look at the confusion zone that lies between raw sex and genuine romantic yearning finds a universal rapport that’s both fresh and time-honored.

The freewheeling plot is centered around Max (Guinevere Turner) and Ely (V. S. Brodie), a mix-matched couple that seems to be anything except made for each other. Max is a would-be writer in her early 20s who hasn’t dated for more than a year and is waiting for Ms. Right to come along. Ely is middle-aged and reclusive, and has an out-of-state girlfriend who rarely telephones. On the surface, the only thing connecting Max and Ely is a string of mutual friends who’ve decided that the two lonely hearts should get together.

While Max and Ely hesitantly view each other’s merits, their pals form a Greek chorus that voices the movie’s brash survey on the thorny contradictions between love and sexual politics. Kia (T. Wendy McMillan), one of Max’s university professors, is a theorist divided between her own gently jaded feelings about love’s longevity (and lack thereof) and her ever-increasing involvement with a new flame. On the other side of the choir is Daria (Anastasia Sharp), who argues that everything is about sex and who’s determined to have as much of it as she can.

Filmed in Chicago on a low-budget, Go Fish has the grainy black-and-white look of a documentary. But it also has a well-tuned script by Guinevere Turner and director Rose Troche, as well as a sense of youthful charm that enlivens nearly every scene. Go Fish is an exercise in go-for-broke film making, and it comes up a winner on most of its bets.

One of the best things about Go Fish is its warm sense of the heart’s desire. It has feelings without being mawkish and satiric flippancy without being icy. It knows the score, but still wants to chase after that elusive thing called love. And that’s a truth that goes for everyone.