IMPULSE! The Story Of Cardboard Inserts

Now, if you're talking about stupid movies (as we were in our last blog entry) this stupid movie right here probably takes the cake. "IMPULSE - The True Story Of Cardboard Inserts And Their Place In Today's Modern World" (extended title). I'm not going to try and explain any of this to you. People either 'get it' or they don't, and there's no mushy middle ground here like there always was when you watched Siskel and Ebert on PBS. This movie best reflects the true spirit of our blog's title (NRP) and it's quite possible that your thoughts on cardboard inserts, and their place in society, will never be the same again.

Back in the Spring of 1975, Belkin's Packaging would pay their warehouse employees 5 dollars and 10 cents an hour to stand at a long bench and assemble these cardboard panels into the protective box lining shape which would then be used to safely separate six bottles of wine or tomato ketchup or maple syrup or whatever, for shipping/receiving/transporting across the country or around the world. I'm not sure exactly how I came to be in ownership of these otherwise useless (or so it seemed) panels of corrugated cardboard - each with either two or three 'slices' needed for interlocking stability - but ownership of them I would eventually claim, and a home movie with them I would eventually make.

Get Lost!

Here's a stupid movie if ever there was one. This is from the 'no plot/no idea/no purpose' school of filmmaking and is a good example of the results you should expect when working on pure impulse and zero inspiration.

When I joined four members of 'THE GANG' for a little Sunday hike around Alice Lake back in the Spring of '75, I had no intention of using the location to make another dramatic movie. I had grabbed my camera and two rolls of super 8 film that morning with no ambitions other than to be a tourist in search of scenic views. However, I very quickly ditched that plan due to boredom and decided instead to force some semblance of a 3 act mini play into the mix; creating suspense and tension; joy and sorrow; albeit with an unenthusiastic cast.

An interesting side note here is that, while everyone involved in this movie/hike seemed to be snapping their own still pictures at every opportunity (except maybe Doug) I have still never, in the almost 35 years since, seen a single snapshot from any of them from that day. I would certainly have used any decent images of theirs (if they even exist) to accompany this otherwise dull blog submission, but all I can offer up is the movie footage, in the guise of a drama, obtained by my Nikon R10 during the course of that lakeside stroll.

The ending of this otherwise forgettable cinematic offering, if you can call it an ending, is still one of the most widely discussed and over analyzed 12 seconds in home movie making history, and even today newcomers to this film, intent on trying to understand it, are stumped into an open mouthed silence.

Farm News - Part TWO

"The sky's all gibbled..." is what Dan seems to be thinking to himself in this screen grab (above) from part 2 of the movie 'FARM NEWS' (1976). Playing the simple, discombobulated farm worker caught up in a series of bizarre non-farmlike situations that were way over his head and not entirely of his own making, Dan created a character that, for better or worse, we will fondly remember him for, no matter how many decades removed from his 'hay' day he gets.

In all honesty, the framework of the non-traditional movie plot (like 'FARM NEWS' and 'ATOMIC SANDWICH') encouraged me to use a free wheeling, anything goes style of filmmaking that eventually became the hallmark of my career. With Dan and his rake for a prop, we could have easily pumped out another dozen or more episodes of these farmyard misadventures featuring his dim-witted, rural, straw-hatted character. I suppose we could even be making new episodes of FARM NEWS today if we wanted to; because in terms of understanding the problem and then deducing the outcome, there clearly wasn't much progress being made by either the farmer OR the filmmaker.

Farm News Part One

If there had ever been a 2nd Annual Philum Festival back in the late 70s (following the 1st and only Philum Festival of 1975) this short miniplay featuring Dan as a befuddled farmer "would'a been a contender" for the prestigious Golden Banana award which was presented each year by Brenda to the least-worst homemade flick on the block.

Unfortunately for 'Sanguine Films' (the name of my phony film studio), the most creative period of my movie making years peaked at the tail end of the 70s; right around the time when the Blazer Playhouse Theatre Performers had started to break up, move away, and lose all interest in acting in cornball super 8 movies.

However, I found Danny with nothing to do one afternoon (33 years ago) and he didn't seem to find the idea of dressing up as a slow witted farmer in various locations of the city (with a rake for a prop) totally disagreeable. I can't imagine shooting these same scenes today in Gastown or at City Hall (part two). It's just not the same friendly small town that it used to be - someone would probably steal our rake! But the story/plot came together in a most devilish way in the end, and it still rolls along pretty nice visually - especially after the slick transformation into the digital domain.

Seabus Scene Still Missing

As I recall the story: a year or two after the visit of Jon and Maureen to my hometown in June of 1979, I decided to send the precious super 8 footage I'd shot of that event by 'postage paid' to his address somewhere in Southwest England. I intended it as a friendly souvenir/gift and never really expected to see the original reels again.

However, at some point, I regained possession of the films when, for some reason, he posted them back to me. Or more probably, he packed them into a suitcase and escorted them back in person when he returned for a second visit in 1988. (Had I asked him to do so?) Upon reviewing the footage, I quickly noticed that substantial alterations had been made to my original presentation; a major editing job which Jon was certainly free to make; since I'd passed full ownership over to him.

My only concern was that Jon had now mixed up the running order in a few places. He'd also inserted footage of his OWN into the soup and portions had become bloated and redundant as a result - especially the 2 hours we both shot going up and down the Grouse Mountain Skyride. (You never saw so many trees.)

So here, in this THIRD and final collection of scenes featuring the 1979 visit of Jon and wife Maureen, we gather those random forgotten scenes that now serve to complete the full story of their journey. Except for one. Sadly, a personal favorite scene of mine remains unattached. Jon is well aware of the scene I speak of. The ever so graceful "Seabus Ferry cockpit scene". Apparently, this scene is now lost like a needle in a haystack somewhere in Jon's attic. Imprisoned within one of his own homemade movie reels after having cut it (and only it) adrift from its original reel for some as yet unanswerable reason. My sorrow knows no bounds.