From our Spring Zine, we present our full-length interview with local non-labelist, writer, musician and filmmaker Victor Glass. Check out his latest short film Tea Leaves, which we discuss in detail below, along with formative experiences, musical endeavors, and what Jarmusch movie is in his directorial DNA.
To start off, who are you and what do you do?
That’s way too existential for me. I always find it strange to try to describe oneself. Years ago a friend of mine once invented a term to best articulate who I was because she knew I never wore, subscribed, identified, or was really attached to any labels, definitions, or signifiers. She called me a: Non-labelist. I wasn’t mad at it. But I suppose using the name, Victor, is sufficient enough. And in regards to what I do? I write.
How did you get interested in film? Was there one particular film that completely flipped the switch for you?
Idk. I suppose going to the movie theaters a lot as a kid and watching a lot of movies growing up on TV or renting them from Blockbuster. Being young and having a VHS and DVD collection at home. I’ve always just been into the communal aspect, growing up watching movies with family and friends and then talking about it after. I guess, like most people, films, movies, and television has always been there and got me at an impressionable age and as you grow, so does your taste in films and your expectations from them once you start refining preferences and style and learning the history.
I remember watching Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy in like 10th grade and feeling kinda mind blown at what cinema could be and do. I’d never really seen a foreign film either, so that kind of broadened my horizons then. There was a guy named, Ned, from my Biology class who was kinda my movie guru at the time. He gave me a lot of recommendations of weird, obscure shit I’d never heard of, and I’d find a way to watch them.
How did you then transition into filmmaking?
Covid times were strange times for many reasons but I met this couple then that were already doing no-budget indie shit and we got along and spoke the same language of cinephilia, so I think just through sheer willpower and the pent up energy of a year of Twilight-Zonian madness, I went into the trenches with them and a few other folks along the way to make a weird short and then a very ambitious feature with no money purely on the strength of having a love for movies and wanting to make shit. It was kinda by accident honestly, but I still wouldn’t say I “transitioned” into filmmaking. To me, all art is the same and I’ve just been apart of a few projects with friends that happen to be in that medium.
In your latest short film, Tea Leaves, there are various themes circling around (alienation vs. connection, identity, etc.) What was the intention behind it? What were some of the emotions and feelings you were trying to provoke?
I feel like we live in very isolating times and people have duped themselves or been deceived into believing that we’re more connected than ever when the technology only seems to be an illusion of connectivity, at least in a social sense. There’s a lot of people sitting silently alone in a room interfacing with a screen and calling it socialization and I find that kind of dystopian. I just think smartphone technology and its invasive nature is not designed to help us, but in fact is designed to manipulate and dictate behavior, so much so that the user becomes the product and the side-effects of constant engagement with it yields weird results in real life. It’s kinda sad because people obviously want to connect, be heard, be seen, be loved, be accepted, and be in communion with others but have forgotten how because anti-social behavior has been dressed up and disguised as socialization by vampiric entities that want your life-force. Ironically, none of this shit is necessary. Turn it off while it still has an off button.
What was the process behind creating the characters and plot?
The scenario was inspired by a story that happened to a friend of ours where he was in a similar situation as a Lyft driver dealing with a customer who had collapsed on her porch after getting out of his car. It was a strange predicament and he didn’t know if he should leave or help, and if so, how would he help? There was something about that fork in the road predicament that seemed interesting enough to explore in a short film.
How did you come up with the title?
I think the title is strongly predicated on the interaction between the two characters at the end.
While shooting, what about the process was rewarding? What was challenging?
The last film project we worked on was something that I wrote, directed, and acted in—all things I hadn’t really ever done before. I was in practically every scene. So, for this short I really wanted to work with the actors from behind the camera, so that was cool because an actor’s performance is probably my favorite thing about films. Every other department is there to service their performance. So, yeah, I wrote the lines, but the script is really just the map to dictate where to go. I had no idea how the actors would interpret the lines, the characters, and what would happen once we started shooting. So, working with the actors as the director who was outside of the scene was what I was looking forward to the most and ended up enjoying the most.
I think the most challenging night was the first night when we were shooting the rear-projection stuff in this garage for the interior car driving scene. It was nighttime in December and the temperatures had to be in the teens and we were out out there for quite some time.
I hate to be that guy that says “oh this reminds me of...” While watching your film, I noticed that it seemed to draw on Jim Jarmusch's Night on Earth.. Was that intentional? And/or are they any other elements of different films that inspired you?
I think we were looking forward to shooting in black & white and going for that sort of high-contrasted greyscale with inky blacks and silvers. I feel like all the references we pulled were in conversation with color and tone and grain. I’ve personally only seen segments from Night on Earth, so I don’t think it was
the first thing to come to mind, nor do I think we really talked about it. I think we were just trying to figure out what looked best on the day with the way we wanted to do the lighting and finding the best places to put the camera because the LUT we had on the camera was in B&W, so we just wanted it to look kinda classic and to keep in mind the lighting. If there’s any Jarmusch film that is definitely in my DNA, it would be Coffee & Cigarettes, though. That was one of those high school Ned picks.
Did you walk away with any big learning curves or any “aha” moments?
I think I was just grateful that we were able to work with people willing to participate and explore filmmaking together and make something for the love of the medium. Because no one had to do this. Its actually pretty insane that we even made this shit. To take a kernel of an idea from a conversation and turn it into a script and invite a group of people to take time out of their lives to dedicate to seeing something through and then to do it, is always pretty special when you break it down. I’m just appreciative of everybody’s time and that it worked. No matter how bad a film is, every movie low key is a miracle. But Idk what I’m doing, so its all learning curves and its all aha! moments. I feel like direction is just a good opportunity to practice concise communication.
Since we are a radio/blog/zine centered on Detroit, what is your favorite Detroit movie?
Only Lovers Left Alive, to stay on theme with Jim Jarmusch.
Anything you want to plug?
I played drums on the new Quality Cinema Band album, ROSELAND, which should be out soon. If you respect music, especially locally, everyone should go buy a physical copy of that record. No other Detroit band will have a better album. 10 songs. 10 bangers. All heat. Detroit Indie Rock album of the year, no challenge. All DIY.
