Ben Tan is an exciting new director marked by Bresson and Haneke; he discusses his powerful short Dog, inventive video for Sophie Thatcher and the artistic solutions he came upon.
As a young filmmaker, I’ve seen my fair share of recent short films; none have equalled Ben Tan’s Dog. It tells the story of 19-year-old Summer, who takes her blind younger sister Lex to a rave. When a junked-up boy becomes infatuated with Lex, the night quickly spirals out of control. Despite the loud and raucous setting, Tan makes space for quiet dramatic scenes in the surrounding moments, such as when Summer and Lex get some air or drive home. It is here, that the film displays a keen psychological depth, presenting its characters’ flaws, repressed feelings and interpersonal tensions. Certain persons depicted remain insular, even when interacting with others, enclosed in their own concerns and agendas. Dog is an accomplished short piece that highlights only what is necessary to express its story and sentiments. It seems to suggest an insufficiency in our relations today and an inability to care for each other. I interviewed Ben Tan about his work, how it was made and what’s next for him.
Tan has been making music videos in LA for over ten years but was always longing to film a narrative short. This is how he made Dog: “I started working as an editor at a [commercial production] company, a traditional nine to five. I was living well below my means and saving a lot of money. I realised that I had to make something substantial, I had to make a short film to show people who I am and what I want to do as a filmmaker. I knew that no one was going to give me money to do that.” He almost entirely self-financed his debut film, which cost $25,000 to shoot and $5,000 more for post-production, festival submissions and promotion.
In Dog, I thought I discerned the influence of Italian Neorealism, a movement preoccupied with morality and which criticised class relations. Especially, in how Tan positions Summer as a self-centered person shirking responsibilities. This aspect reminded me of Ingrid Bergman’s character in Europa ‘51, Irene, who tragically neglects her son at the start of Rosselini’s film. Ultimately, I was wrong, but Ben shared who and what had inspired Dog: “Bresson was someone that I was really interested in as far as the minimalistic aspect of his shooting and how some stuff happens out of frame. With Dog, even in the crash scene, I wanted to be careful not to show it in a too blatant way. Your imagination and not seeing it, is going to be much scarier than if I were to show it. Sofia Coppola, she’s done a lot of these really atmospheric, long, wide shots that play out and build to the realism of the situation. Michael Haneke is someone who I’m always inspired by [too].” It seems that Tan is drawn to filmmakers with distinctive aesthetics and visual modes of communication. He also talked about how his youth was the film’s foundation: “In Los Angeles, when I was a teenager, I was going to raves with my brothers. I was really focused on the story [of Dog] and how it related to my own life.”
Still from Dog – the crash scene. Summer (Alexis Felix) tells a lie and thus rejects any moral action.
The link he did make with Neorealism, was that necessity also shaped the creation of Dog: “I thought shooting black and white is going to help hide the fact that there’s not a big production design. You can do more with the lighting instead and play with that and make it look grander [than it really is] because you’re hiding stuff through filtering it through black and white. And then I just started seeing that that was the better choice in general because thematically, having a blind character at a rave, [the B&W] takes away a sense from the audience [and] make[s] you feel like you’re on the character’s level. She’s existing in this really vibrant, colourful world but she can’t see anything. So, the audience is also existing in this world and can’t see the colours [either.]”
Lex (Nastasia Koulich) – the neglected younger sister who feels she’s seen as a burden by her family.
Tan submitted Dog to “maybe twenty of the top film festivals” and described how he was “very lucky and fortunate to get into AFI Fest [in LA], [which] was the biggest festival where my film played.” Ben spoke about how doing the festival circuit was the most progress he’s made: “there was a lot that came from that experience. Not just learning, mistakes and learning what to do for the next thing that I do, but it also connected me with a lot of people, a lot of friends, peers that I now work with.” He summed up this milestone, both for him and the other filmmakers, by saying: “I think that it really does a lot for someone to just make something substantial[.]”
I don’t really believe in music videos but Tan’s video for Pivot and Scrape, by Sophie Thatcher, never distracts from or obscures the music. Instead, its simple imagery underscores the song. It doesn’t try to tell a separate narrative, it works in pure abstraction and feeling like music does itself; except for lyrics, which can be more direct yet shouldn’t always be. It also helps that Sophie Thatcher is nearly always “singing” throughout – another way in which the images maintain their symbiosis with the music. Tan’s video consists of a few different visual ideas and their variations, such as Thatcher on a vast concrete floor in different languid poses. Consequently, the whole piece has a tremendous clarity of vision.
I’ve never seen such an effect done before, in those shots where Thatcher appears to be soaring through the sky (see the still below). It’s an effect which reminds one of silent film in its pictorial expressionism, like something Man Ray or Abel Gance would have created. Those images are really quite startling, exhilarating, stunning. Generously, Ben revealed how they captured those shots: “I own a truck, so I had this idea of, originally, of her sitting in the truck and singing and the truck was moving. … As I was looking into how to shoot this and what creative ways I [could] spin [it] into a new image, I found there was a glass frame[.] A five foot by five foot or four ft by four ft frame that has a layer of glass and then a mirror like this [indicates with hands the angle of the mirror] – (see diagram beneath). So then basically if you put the camera right here [indicates again] and you shoot into the mirror, it goes up and you’ll see the sky and you’ll shoot through the glass essentially. … we [Tan and DP Fio Karpenko] did a little test with it and saw that if we shoot at this [a certain] focal length, you don’t see the sides of the frame and it just looks like someone floating in the air. That idea was pretty simple, we just drove around for half the day and shot three rolls of film of her singing and that was it.”
Still from Tan’s video for Pivot and Scrape – one of the “floating” shots.
Diagram of the rig for the “floating” shots, which was fitted into the back of a truck.
I don’t believe that good songs need visuals. If there must be some, then they should act as supplements in service of the musical composition, not overshadowing it. Tan achieves this admirable equilibrium in his video for Pivot and Scrape.
Actress and musician, Sophie Thatcher, singing in her Pivot and Scrape video
Sharing some of his creative philosophy, Tan stated: “I think if you stick to your voice as a filmmaker and double down on your vision, there will be people out there that will see that and engage with it. If you just start making stuff with an audience in mind, you’re already starting off on the wrong foot and you’re maybe making something that’s not sincere and now you have to keep doing that.” When I asked for some advice for beginner filmmakers, Tan mused that one can “either just go out and make stuff with your friends, that’s what I did, or try to get on a film set, whether it’s a TV show, commercial, music video or movie. … You’re going to grow a lot faster if you’re not just sitting in your bedroom and waiting for the opportunity, you should make your own opportunity.”
With his production company, Paar, Tan has continued to follow his credo: “I started Paar while making my short film Dog. At first, I had no real plan to produce for others, and it started more as a necessity to streamline spending and save costs on my own projects. Despite working with some notable artists, I still see it as an aspiration rather than a formal venture. At the moment, I’m just enjoying making things with my friends whose creative work I deeply respect and who I enjoy working with. Producing has been great though. It unlocks resources and knowledge that make me a stronger director and I don’t need to wait for anyone to start my own projects.”
Keep your eye to the viewfinder for Ben Tan. Towards the end of our conversation, he reflected on where he wants to go next: “I have a feature film that I’m working on and then I have a short film that I’ve just started writing that’s about a landscape photographer. That one [the short] is probably going to be aesthetically and tonally much different [from] Dog. I’m interested in trying to explore new territories and not necessarily repeat the same stuff. I feel like that’s the exciting thing about film: you can live in one world for a short period of time, complete that and then move on to another. … What I made there [in Dog], I wouldn’t want people to think that I’m only trying to make films like that, like sad, intense thriller/dramas. I want to make something a little more light-hearted and move into maybe adding some bits of comedy into the film or shooting things less minimalistic. Just showing that I have more to share with the world[.]”
Watch Dog here:
Watch Pivot and Scrape here:
