Movies
Indie director's $218 movie gaining worldwide acclaim

By Moira Macdonald
Seattle Times movie critic

Jonathan Caouette's "Tarnation," based his mentally ill mother, Renee, was pieced together on his home computer last year for a mere $218.

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"I still wake up in the middle of the night with butterflies in my stomach," said filmmaker Jonathan Caouette. He's speaking of the astonishing ride on which his film, "Tarnation," has taken him.

A kaleidoscope-like assemblage of footage from his own troubled life, focusing on his mentally ill mother Renee, the film was pieced together on Caouette's home computer last year for a cost of $218. It has since screened at Sundance, Cannes and other festivals, and will open for a Seattle run on Friday at the Varsity.

At the Toronto International Film Festival last month to present "Tarnation," Caouette was clearly exhausted, but remained thoughtful and attentive throughout an informal interview. A gentle-voiced man, he looks much younger than his 31 years, but has a quiet maturity that befits a once-lost boy who had to grow up fast.

Born to middle-class parents in a Houston suburb, Renee LeBlanc was a dark-eyed beauty and a teen model before the troubles began: mental illness, shock treatment, physical abuse, hospitalizations. Jonathan was born in 1972. His father was absent, his mother vacant, his grandparents well-meaning but distracted. As a child, Caouette endured abuse in foster homes, witnessed his mother's rape and was bounced from house to house. At 11, he picked up a video camera, looking to distance himself from his unhappy life.

As the years went by, the camera captured the boy becoming the man: school plays, video diaries, short films made with friends, interviews with his mother and grandparents. It continued when Caouette moved to New York in his 20s, with hopes of becoming an actor. The call telling him of his mother's damaging lithium overdose in 2003 was captured on film, as were the difficult days after Caouette brought LeBlanc back to Brooklyn to live with him and his boyfriend.

Through it all, he thought about someday making a film about his life. "I've always known, and my mother's always known," he said quietly, "that we had a really poignant story to tell."

But the movie that became "Tarnation" had a surprising birth: as an audition tape. Last year, just before his mother's overdose, Caouette wanted to audition for a film to be directed by John Cameron Mitchell ("Hedwig and the Angry Inch.") "In the audition tape I made, I set the camera on myself and said, 'Hi, I'm Jonathan Caouette, I'm a filmmaker, here's an excerpt from my film.' " He included a haunting scene of himself at 11, with bleached hair, emulating his mother.

Though Mitchell ultimately couldn't find a place for Caouette in his movie, he loved the tape and encouraged the young filmmaker to complete his own work. Subsequently, Caouette learned of an upcoming deadline for submissions to MIX, New York's gay and lesbian experimental film festival. Encouraged by a MIX staffer, Caouette took sick leave and vacation time from his job as a doorman at a Manhattan jewelry store and "went on an editing marathon" with his Apple computer.

In three weeks, a 2½-hour rough cut came together, tracing his unhappy history through bits and pieces of film, but with unmistakable love for his family shining through. Mitchell joined up as an executive producer, as did director Gus Van Sant ("Elephant") and Steven Winter, artistic director of MIX.
 
Buzz began building; Caouette quit his day job and embraced life as a suddenly hot indie filmmaker. "Getting worldwide distribution from my desktop to a 35mm print, in a matter of less than a year, it's some kind of miracle. I don't know how to explain it," said Caouette, shaking his head in disbelief.

When the "Tarnation" excitement dies down, Caouette hopes to make another film — he's always wanted to make a horror film, and has a "Tarnation"-like idea involving existing footage of a 1970s actress that he may explore.

But for now, he's taking care of his mother (she's "doing very well" he says, despite a recent hospitalization) and appreciating the connection with audiences that his film provides. People of all ages, he says, come up to him after screenings, sharing stories of their own family members with mental illness.

"It's a bizarre and really beautiful way to start talking to somebody," he said. "I'm glad I made this film."

Some wonder how to categorize "Tarnation" — is it documentary? Experimental film? Stream-of-consciousness art? It's all of those things, and then some. "There's more than one truth in this film, and the thing is, I'll never know the real truth" about certain events in his upbringing, Caouette said.

"People say, 'He doesn't answer any questions' (in the film). But I don't have any answers. Life is what it is."

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com