Victor was conceived during a period of absolute loserdom in my life. Oh! so dark. Abject. Anticlimactic in every department. The residue of a dream to make films, however tamped down at the time, and a support system of true friends were the only realities saving me from becoming the guy you see in our movie:
Victor Unadulterated; friendless, taciturn, devoid even of delusions.
So lucky was I to be a watered-down prototype of our anti-hero, that I accrued necessary perspective to exploit my foibles for filmic purposes. It became force of habit, a starry eyed occupation, between my friends and I during the dark times to kick around the idea of experimenting with film to capture Downtown Yonkers before its inevitable Hipster takeover. Which amazingly still has not come to pass. A longtime contender for a 6th outer borough, Yonkers exhibited a characteristic stark contrast that whetted our appetite to tap the last frontier for a gritty New York piece.
Last to arrive among the group, Jerome Raim, who'd left his alma mater in France to embark on his film career in the US and with a less toxic avocation than the bunch of us, believed most poignantly in the project. Our shared aesthetic distaste for over-expositional, repulsively-inspirational, eye-rollingly sleek cinema inspired us to embody the very antithesis of those things with a vision of our own. Our anecdotal lives, warts and all, would contribute the source material. My basement apartment, literally, the set. And the backdrop, the city itself, was where the germ of our inspiration lay and would continue to grow.
Imbued by the raw form of verité filmmaking, Jerome helmed our one man camera team, giving him an advantageous sense of proportion for his ultimate undertaking in the editing room.
Adrien Faunce, another friend & loyal supporter of the project, supplied a redoubtable track list of impromptu instrumental pieces during the screenwriting process. Those temp tracks in turn created an eerie, monotonous (in a good way), often maddening original score to theme Victor's quotidian nightmare.
In addition to Adrien's music, we were honored to collaborate with Tennessee-born americana folk-rocker Paul Burch. Burch sat in on a few rushes, dug what he'd seen, and beautified our grimy vision by lending his songs to the film. The anachronistic quality of Burch's music fits perfectly not only with our somewhat indicative style, but with Victor himself being unplaceable in any given environment, though oddly attractive and somehow adaptable.
From the first, the face of Victor decidedly stayed blank, indistinct and surely undistinguished. A cipher plunked amid an extremely resilient ghetto preceding imminent gentrification, with the wrong skin color to boot. A tofu of a man who highlights a cast of characters arguably more interesting than he. I did not want Victor to have dreams, aspirations, passions gleaned from my autobiography, nor even less deluded goals, nobler ideals. We introduce Victor struggling in earnest astride his personal home crapper within the first minute of the film and other than the fight to move his bowels, the only plot trigger is the evasive dead end job interview he must trudge to by the end of the 24 hours that span his story.
Victor Goodview was a maiden collaboration that's turned our dream, delusion, fantasy (whatever you want to call it) into a tangible one. To use an AA aphorism Vic might espouse in a future sequel, we faked it till we made it. From toiling to pare down an offensively long 242 page script, dickering through preproduction, to ultimately frittering proudly our life savings on the project, we spearheaded our ultra low budget, self funded feature and now await the world's reaction to its scatological splendor.