Jodi Marcos and Rick Clemente
Old before her time, a homeless woman wakes from sleeping in a laundromat, and decides that she's had enough of life and wants to die. Her vibrant young soul is reluctant to go with her, but has no choice.
The destitute woman exchanges one of her last meager possessions, an old doll, for one artificial flower that she takes to her burial in the sand. She pays her last dollar for a ticket to the burial site, and then must give the grave digger her Rosary beads so that he'll cover her with sand in the shallow grave. Her reluctant soul must follow.
A half century ago, I was in a film class at Art Center College of Design in L.A. The scandal of the week was about extortionist practices by some in the funeral business. This film expressed my feelings about it, hinting at the style of my favorite film, Fellini's 8½. The music is a highly edited version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" by Iron Butterfly.
My teacher, Phil Cohen, loaned me his beautiful pristine manual-wind Bolex 16mm camera, and I shot the movie on two 50-foot rolls of Tri-X film, almost entirely in sequence, on two afternoons. For editing, I used a pair of scissors, a roll of splicing tape, pocket-size splicing block, one single-edge razor blade, Agfa loupe contact sheet magnifier, and friend Dave Guerra's home-made rewinds and sound reader... and lots of coffee and Rick Clemente's cigarettes... and the ENORMOUS patience, talent and good will of Jodi and Rick.
The college reimbursed me for the film stock and processing in return for keeping it in their library. Until recently that was the last I had seen of it. While digging through a box of old photo gear parts, I came across this copy of a copy of a non-timed, single-reel (visible splices) work print.
Watch for the dog at the beach who moved perfectly in time with Jodi crossing the screen. Jodi yelled, "Ken, a dog!" With not enough film for a re-take, I kept my finger on the button and yelled back "Keep going! Don't stop!"
As I shot the artificial flower being covered by the last shovelful of sand, I heard the tail end of raw film detach from the core inside the camera, as the last frames went through the exposure gate. There was zero unexposed film left in the camera.
Ahhh, those were the days and I miss them greatly.
Ken Schuster, August 2019