Group Home

So I haven't been posting recently, but I've got a series set up and will be publishing with more frequency...this one is long overdue...

I saw this film early in the fall, in September, an independent film called Group Home, written and directed by Minneapolis filmmaker Ted Dewberry. Now, it nearly seems silly to me to be writing about this film in January when it had it's one-time-only screening in September, but I've been thinking about the film lately and I think that it's entirely appropriate, and timely, so eat it.

As I said, it was only screened once, and as far as I've been informed it will not be screened again anytime soon, so you'll probably never see it. I was turned on to it by two actors whom I'd previously worked with, both of which were involved in the project. I was vaguely intrigued. It's that odd brand of intrigue, the kind I feel when I'm invited to partake in something that isn't universal, something that is very esoteric and has a limited appeal. I didn't expect much, which is never a good stance to take when you know people involved. But as I was working one evening, a couple days before the screening, the Mr. Dewberry stopped in to the coffee shop, where I slave to pay the rent, to hang up a poster for the film. I mentioned to him that I knew a couple of people in the film and was thinking of going to the film. Now Ted Dewberry has made films before, but I think it's important to note that he is not a major figure even on a local scale, but he was incredibly friendly and willing to chat for a little while. I could immediately tell that he was a passionate man, the film was a labor of love, as they say. But more on this point later.

Now, I'd like to be kind, but to be honest with you the film is terrible. It has redeeming qualities, there were some great lines, and some humorous moments, and it certainly showed a desire to push the boundaries of comedy and what you can expect from a low-budget independent comedy. But it never really comes together. I won't spend time intricately picking the film apart, suffice to say that it wasn't very good and it likely will not be screened again. (though there was a decent attendance)

What is important here is what this film stands for. Though it wasn't that great, it was inspirational in it's own way. It was a reminder of why I'm passionate about art, and why I love film. Film isn't a standard art form, it's intricate. you can go into classic debates about authorship, but let's be honest, at some level a film has an author. But there is not author, especially on an independent film, without a host of people who are willing to devote
themselves (often for nothing in return) to see the fruition of this vision. As I talked with Mr. Dewberry at the cafe he told me how he essentially funded the whole thing himself, and how he'd been working on it for years, how he did almost all of the technical work and found a cast of dedicated actors (almost all of whom play two different roles in the film) who put in the time to make a feature film on a limited budget and tight schedule. It's rare that, as a viewer, not a reviewer or a participant, or even someone with a close friend involved, you get to truly see the passion of art, to partake in that one moment when everything comes together - the work is largely done and all that's left is to stop and appreciate all of the work that is left in the wake of vision.

The film has stuck with me, not because of brilliant plot, masterful cinematography or great performances, but because this group, particularly Mr. Dewberry, had no illusions about what had been created, he didn't pretend that this was a breakout indie film, but he had a vision and followed through because he wanted to create, to partake in the godly (whoa that's a strong word...) act of art. It was a powerful reminder of why we need to create, the stripped down human drive to create, not to be recognized (though surely that had played a role) but the need to feel that godly power of creation and to leave it behind.