Best of Editing Luke #4

I've been putting off writing this post for a few weeks, partly because I have other projects going on, but mainly because it's kind of an uncomfortable topic for me. Whether you've heard it through the grapevine, or heard me allude to it in several previous posts, it is in fact official that I will not be returning to university in the fall.

True, I likely won't even return to the University of Regina to finish my degree in the film progam. I suppose this is shocking depending on your own personal experience. Some relate, some disagree, and generally those who know me just look at me wide-eyed when I say it. Although perhaps it's strange to leave after the time I've put into this education, with every ounce of ambition, passion, and confidence that I have I know it's a step in the right direction for me. Sure, at its simplest it's just leaving school I guess, but it's also giving up that 'student' definition; that comfortable and forgiving term that for any artist in my position gives you a title that says it's okay that you haven't made it big yet.

It's not that I don't want to make movies anymore, it's exactly the opposite. I want to get started with my life and honestly believe that these last few random programs are not only a waste of money, but a waste of time and effort in the way of real experiences and tests. Sure the piece of paper is important, and I don't want to express any negativity towards those who pursue it because I understand it's benefits as well. 

My choice is obviously a personal one and in such a case, my sentiment is what really matters. For me, I feel I've been stagnant in this environment for the last couple of semesters and I feel like I'm drowning. The one thing keeping me afloat is my personal filmmaking (the blog/sasktel contest/etc) and in my own opinion, when you discover your inner passion, when you can see your goals, when you go out of your way to better yourself, when you become your own teacher, well then, learning through dictation loses it's effectiveness. 

I guess what I'm saying is that I've been lucky enough to experience and learn a great deal in regards to my own productions and I can't take the hypotheticals anymore. Experience a bit of success on your own and how can you go back to just talking about? I want and need more of the reality.


I started my university career straight out of high school in the fall of 2002, meaning that by the end of this semester I will have been in school for 6 years . . . yes, for a 4 year program. The reasons for this are long, but the last 2 years especially have been plagued by a lack of motivation, understanding, and reasoning as to why I was subjecting myself to classes that seemed redundent and worthless. In argument of this I always tell the story of how in a 4th year production class one of the major assignments was to write about one of your favourite directors. I was thinking: 

"I'm sorry prof, but after the tens of thousands of dollars spent to get to 4th year programs in film, i'm beyond telling you about one of my favourite directors. I can do that in a couple sentences, tell me I have to make another movie! Challenge me! Trust me, I wouldn't be this far in the program if I didn't care about cinema, and if you're concerned that Johnny and Jane don't know their directors and styles by this point - let them make another movie and they'll realize just how far behind they really are. It's a sink or swim industry, and all the times I was humbled in class only made me stronger the next time around. Honestly, this is the end, this is the advanced class, write a paper on a director in a PRODUCTION class? Give me something I can sink my teeth into! Please inspire me to do more than read the same books in the library again! I can do that for free."
 
My mind has been made up to leave school by a series of stories like this that I'll probably end up writing a book about when I'm 40. This stuff is funny the first few times, then it just gets painful when you realize how much you're paying for it.

So where does this leave me? Well, i'll be in limbo for the summer at least while I work to pay off some of my debt. Then it's an open playing field. If I wanted to be an accountant or an engineer my strategy would seem pretty foolish, but based on my research it seems that a strong portfolio (which I do have) is just as, if not more, valuable in proving what you're capable of. There's still a load of uncertainty in this choice, but at the end of the day, school will always be there, I'm still young enough to pursue a lot of directions, and by doing this I feel like I'm finally moving forward. It just feels right.

I have to admit though, as strange as it is, if I hadn't gone to university in the first place I may have never gained the level of confidence to take such big risks (especially in the capacity where I'm able to act solely on what I want, without being bothered that others would/could do it differently). I've learned to trust myself and believe in myself, and whether I'm in school or not, I finally understand that I'm beyond what it is to be a film student. Regardless of what anyone else may think, I'm a filmmaker, degree or not.

Best of Editing Luke #3

Since my first dorm room in film school I've convinced myself that it's easier to be creative in a space that looks the part. In many ways I've always had the mindset of an editor; overly organized and always looking to contextualize my experiences. I'd like think that this is how my space comes across too.

It started with a couple posters and photos and throughout the process of moving between home and school, the expressions just seemed to get bolder with each years new setup. My dorm rooms became somewhat infamous for how ambitiously visual and wallpapered they became. A mashup of pop culture, personal photos, patterns and collections, the rooms were different every time but the style was fairly consistent.

There's something interesting about being so meticulously organized and yet so attracted to busy graphics. I like that I can look at a wall of imagery and feel surrounded by the ideas that went in to creating them. The colours and selections that end up on my wall aren't made haphazardly either. As an avid magazine reader I've always ripped out the images I liked, thinking that one day they would find their way into an art project, frame, or display. The argument was always that it wasn't the individual image that created the meaning or context, instead it was all about the unique combination of graphics that ended up on the wall.

I'd defend the look by saying that anyone could have these images, but it was doubtful that anyone else had arranged them this exact way. In that, I always felt that pop culture could be embraced and still be made more personal.

I've tried to create balance in my new place by framing things out more and not covering entire walls with pictures. I think it still looks pretty distinct (see first image) and it definitely serves the purpose of giving my mind cues to wander when needed. Then again, sometimes it's just about seeing how far you can go (see last image).

A creative space can be a million different things to a million different people, and in my experience it has been. I surround myself with things I like to see, places I've been, personal projects I've worked on, music I love, and things that generally inspire me or remind me what I've already accomplished. A creative space has only one fundamental requirement for earning its designation, and it's really quite simple - it should compel and allow you to be productive.

Best of Editing Luke #2

For every filmmaker (I would assume) there is a certain level of pride and identity wrapped up in what one chooses to call their production company. This company is either quite literally a business or simply a badge or brand that a filmmaker puts on his or her work to represent themselves and their body of work (usually both). From Kevin Smith's View Askew to Tarantino's A Band Apart there's something immediately defining in seeing these credits on the screen. So after considering this I thought it was about time that I addressed this question myself.  

What's the story behind fandrix productions. Why fandrix?

And of course, the easy answer is that my name is Luke Fandrich and it doesn't take a scientist to recognize the connection between Fandrich and Fandrix. True, this is the inspiration for the name. The meat of the story is that I was 12 when I picked this name though. I was thinking about a production company name simply as a mark of ownership on the videos I was sharing with family and friends. This is Fandrich's video - or as it became, Fandrix.

As years passed and I reached my late teens I began to think more seriously about the name and what it meant to me. The more time rolled on, and as I found myself in film school, it became clear that I was locked in. There was no good reason to change my name, if simply for the reason that from the very first short amateur video I ever made up until then, you could see Fandrix Productions or fandrix on it.

Nostalgia and branding have made it so much more interesting, especially since over a decade has past since I started using fandrix. A stylized and hand drawn image of a TV with rabbit ears was my first logo - and it's still kicking around. I occasionally use it on my posters these days. I now have an actual old TV with rabbit ears that I use as part of my logo, or I simply use an image of the rooftop that I've incorporated into Editing Luke branding over the years. The fact that this production nickname has acquired a history of its own is reason enough to continue nurturing it.

While part of the name, logo, and branding is about playing around and creating an experience, there is also a lot to be said about making your work easily recognizable. My goal has never been about personal fame - but if people can recognize the name on the work and have that as a clue to who I am, that's ideal. I'd much rather have the John Hughes type of fame - you recognize the name and the work, but the average viewer probably couldn't pick him out of a line-up.

So, why fandrix? At this point it's because the name links me directly to my changing work from childhood to adulthood, it's a unique variation on my name that I've been able to popularize as representing only me, and I've been able to see myself grow and evolve with a name and logo that is capable of growing and evolving too. It's a time capsule of sorts, that's just too valuable to let go of.

And then again, why not?