Jackie Torrens can be described as an actor, writer and documentary filmmaker. In 2012, she co-founded Peep Media with producer Jessica Brown, and since then they have completed four television documentaries for the CBC, including “Edge of East,” “My Week On Welfare,” “Small Town Show Biz,” and the short documentary film “Bernie Langille Wants To Know Who Killed Bernie Langille?” for Bravofactual.
The feature-length version of “Bernie Langille Wants To Know Who Killed Bernie Langille?” is screening at the 2022 Hot Docs Canadian International Film Festival, which is taking place April 28-May 8. Find more information on the fest’s website.
W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.
JT: “Bernie Langille Wants To Know What Happened To Bernie Langille” is the story of a grandson who is trying to figure out what happened to the grandfather he never met, a military mechanic who died 50 years ago under mysterious and unresolved circumstances. The family believes that the grandfather was killed in a military cover-up. Bernie, the grandson, goes on an existential investigation to find out what happened and how it’s affected his family. We use miniature sets for the reenactments.
W&H: What drew you to this story?
JT. I was drawn to this story by the fact that family narratives affect all of our lives. The Langille family is one example of three generations that have been profoundly affected from a story that occurred half a hundred years ago. Langille family has been emotionally frozen by the lack and lack of confirmation about Bernie Sr.
W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?
JT: I’d love for them to consider the strange inheritance of family stories: how these narratives are passed down to us and affect our identity. These stories are often only fragments of the whole story. It all depends on who is telling it. You might also be surprised at how time affects memory and what we remember.
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?
JT: It was a difficult task to make this film at an extraordinary time in human history. The pandemic. We had only been filming for a few weeks when the global crisis struck. In between lockdowns, we were stopped from filming and resumed it again. Everyone — participants and crew — were game to keep going, but the pandemic still affected everything and everyone’s headspace. Things just weren’t the same — and, of course, still aren’t.
W&H: How did you get your film funded? Let us know how you got the film produced.
JT: We had a compelling tale and an unusual idea, i.e. Miniature sets were used for the reenactments. We decided to first make a short film, knowing that a feature utilizing miniatures would require a substantial budget in the art department. We made the short film and brought it to Hot Docs 2018 with the sole purpose of finding a home. And, luckily, that’s what happened. Peep Media was the production company I own in Halifax, along with Jessica Brown. It was commissioned by Documentary Channel to produce this feature film. We were supported by the Canadian Film or Television Production Credit and funded by the Canadian Media Fund.
W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?
JT: It was a stretch that I had when I was going through a period where I was creatively stagnant. It was my ability to look at sight that got me out of it. Particularly, to be aware of what was happening and what I could see if it was my choice to look. What creative visions might result from what you see? I’ve been a writer since childhood, so I’ve always tended to think in words, not so much in images. When I was stuck in this creative limbo, I felt so sick and bored by the situation that I was in, so I made myself pay attention to the world around me. And lo! I felt like I was coming back to life.
I was given the challenge to make a short film using images. It became a story called “Pickled Punk,” about a miscarried fetus who’s stuck in a jar, and it was the first film I ever made. I’m very grateful to my first film — it brought me back to life and started me in directing.
W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?
JT: Respect, like, and know the work of those you ask for feedback. If you don’t know their work or like their work, why do you care what they might have to say about what you’re doing? That’s what my first mentor told me and it’s been invaluable for me.
Worst advice: I have many jobs in the arts. I write, act, direct, and produce. I work in fiction as well as non-fiction. I also work in several different areas such TV, film and radio. Someone once said to me that it was important to choose one job and keep my focus there so people can understand who I am. I remember thinking, but if you can do more than one thing, why wouldn’t you?
All my jobs serve one purpose: to tell stories. All my jobs help me to be creative and inform each other. So be who and what you are, listen to your own voice, and don’t let other people keep you from that.
W&H: What advice do you have for other women directors?
JT: One of my favorite things about being a director is that you can set the tone for the workplace. Often, you’re also in charge of who’s on the team. Expect what you get. My crews are chosen not only for their talent but also because of their temperament. There’s a couple of reasons for this: one, in documentary, you’re putting real people in front of the camera and their comfort is a primary concern. Crew who understand how they behave in the workplace is crucial to helping this real person feel at ease and comfortable enough to share their thoughts. You can’t do that with big personalities on the crew who are going to take up all the conversational air and attention. Crew members need to be able understand what you are trying to accomplish and will support you. Every day on a movie has 250 problems that must be solved. I’m not interested in who messed up when a mistake is made. I want a solution. I will admit to my mistakes. I like calm, kind, solution-oriented co-workers and I can’t get that if I don’t give that. So I give what I hope to get back and, so far, I’ve had awesome collaborators that I regularly work with.
W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.
JT: One? No! In Canada, in the world of non-fiction film, I love the work of Baljit Sangra (“Because We Were Girls”), Sarah Polley (“Stories We Tell”), Marcia Connolly (“Spring & Arnaud”), to name a few. In the world of Canadian fiction film, I loved Heather Young’s” Murmur.”
Jane Campion’s “Power Of The Dog” was truly a work of art. Same with Chloé Zhao’s “Nomadland.”
W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Is it possible to keep your creativity alive?
JT: My usual creative process was very affected by the pandemic — and yet I still had a movie to make. When I’m working on a story, my brain is usually sizzling 24/7 with it, but my brain was incredibly distracted by what was happening to the world. Keeping focused was an issue — how do I keep working on a story in the middle of a global crisis?
I learned early on to not panic and to embrace the idea of working differently. My collaborators and me made sure we had plenty of space and grace for one another. I tried to remember how amazing it was to tell a story, even if it is at a difficult and strange time.
I have also made time to be creative in ways that aren’t necessarily related to work. I learned embroidery this winter and I could feel my brain really responding to it — learning a new art form brought back the feeling of play, where all creativity comes from.
W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What are your suggestions for making Hollywood and/or the doc world more inclusive
JT: Regarding stereotypes of women, people with color, and marginalized people, I believe that doing our own work and getting it published is a great way to challenge these tropes. It’s great that underrepresented people are in leadership positions, changing old-school work patterns and power models. I believe that we should speak up whenever we are confronted with gender, racial or ableist stereotypes and/or asked to participate in them. This is not always easy — sometimes we really need the gig. A little while ago, I turned down a role with a director I really wanted to work with, but the character they wanted me to play was essentially a gender stereotype — one I’ve played many times in my life and have reached my limit participating in. I told the director why I was refusing to take on the role. Although it was uncomfortable and sweaty, I felt relief at not being required to play a part that made me feel devalued. It still makes me feel good. So I’m glad I made that decision.
Ultimately, I’m all for mandates and quotas. They work. If inclusion and parity were going to happen on their own, it would have happened already — a long time ago. The people who have power don’t give it up and share it with others. Official policy must be followed to bring about change. No more stories focusing on one group of people. No more niching our stories. The protagonist is a mix of faces and comes from many places. This is something that all underrepresented people have always known.
Source: Women And Hollywood