WORDS: BOB K
A few weeks ago I had the great pleasure of attending a screening of Carts Of Darkness, the latest film by Vancouver BC based filmmaker, Murray Siple. I caught wind of the production a couple of years ago and had been keenly following the film's progress, receiving the odd e-mail from Murray telling of a new trailer released or a new milestone reached, and when I heard that The National Film Board of Canada had come on to help him produce it I was both overjoyed (for him as a filmmaker, for the production value of the film and for the reach that the story might not have otherwise got) and disappointed (for myself because I'd have to wait longer to see it!).
What initially caught my interest back when I had first heard about it was the story involving both the subjects and the filmmaker himself. It's not simply about a group of ragtag bottle collector dudes who haul ass down hills on shopping carts at breakneck speeds, it's also about an intensely personal journey for Murray, and about how the two stories end up organically intertwining. Hugely inspiring, a better story could not have been written. I'm happy to say that this is the best documentary I've seen in a long time.
Below is the trailer, followed by some words from Murray about his life and this production, then some links where you can learn more about the film. I encourage you to seek it out at a film festival or to purchase it when it comes out on DVD... it'll definitely be worth the wait.
"I have not always relied on a wheelchair for my mobility.
As an able-bodied person I was a high school quarterback, dedicated mountain biker, skateboarder, and a snowboarder. It sounds like I was a jock but I just liked being athletic and getting outdoors. I went to college at Emily Carr and ended up spending all hours of the night editing footage I shot, appropriated, and found. I’d make films on a Steenbeck with old footage from the NFB’s “destroy” pile or I’d take the school’s equipment and go film skate and snowboarding. The school didn’t like the idea of me heli-boarding on weekends while everyone else at school was looking for “objects” in alleys or performing art in a cage of some type. So I pushed off and moved to Whistler.
I lived in Whistler, B.C and directed five independent action sport videos that were pre-“X-games” and pre-“mainstream extreme”. I set down deep roots in a short period while living in the mountain community; and traveled internationally filming snow and skateboarding. That lifestyle/ dream was destroyed in 1996 when a high-speed motor vehicle accident compounded by an emergency room error rendered me a quadriplegic.
Throughout the following eight years, I continued to hope that my life could still somehow include my passion for filmmaking. Eventually, I was able to renovate a home in North Vancouver that became a model of accessibility and independence. But outside the comforting accessibility of this new home, my vantage point was largely limited to flat pathways, accessible public buildings, and shopping centers.
I learned to drive a van which extended my freedom, but my limited hand dexterity made it difficult to work a camera like I had before. So in spite of solid gains in the direction of freedom and mobility, I found myself largely retreating from the dream of returning to filmmaking. The next few years were chiefly spent adjusting to my disability and trying to ignore the craving to make films.
I discovered the story behind Carts of Darkness when I was grocery shopping one evening. I noticed some loud individuals who were cashing in bottles. I had a romantic vision that both of our lifestyles were stereotypes to the passing customers: the drunken and comically disordered bottle returners, and me, wheelchair-bound and precarious in my adapted vehicle. When I approached the men with the idea to make a film, a world was revealed to me I had never expected to discover in my own neighbourhood."
- Murray Siple |
