From Artist to Filmmaker: An Interview with Karen Connor

Sarah: In what manner has your background in fine arts impacted your perspective on filmmaking?

Karen: A painting, while beautiful, captures a moment in time, and adding as much detail as possible has brought me great pride and satisfaction in my art; however, I have a desire to bring moments to life. 

I think my attention to detail in art has impacted my perspective for filmmaking, because if something looks fake to me, such as an image or detail in one of my paintings, then I might feel that it is not good enough, and I will want to redo it. The same attention to detail will be brought to my films. I will reshoot a scene until it looks real, but if I cannot get the shot to work, then I am flexible enough to either modify it or drop it.

Although perfection is not realistic, I am serious about creating great entertainment. I will only want to produce my finest work: stories that people can relate to and stories that move people. I hope that each cast and crew I work with will be just as passionate as I am. 

Sarah: In what way has being based in New Brunswick influenced your creativity, and how do you see this translating in your short films? 

Karen: New Brunswick as a whole, and Fredericton, are beautiful places with lots of treed spaces to let your imagination flow. Some of the places where my favorite childhood memories took place have made their way into my short film ideas. I know these areas well, which makes it easier to envision filming various scenarios that could take place there.

Sarah: What skills have you obtained from your background in fine arts that will make you a unique filmmaker?

Karen: Through painting, I learned the importance of shadows and color theory in portraying the emotions I want to depict through art. These skills are definitely transferable to filmmaking!

Another transferable skill I learned through painting is the importance of angles: a head turned in a particular way can show indifference, curiosity, shame, pride, etc. In addition, painting something in the foreground can make it appear like the subject of a painting is close-up while painting the subject in the background will make them appear to be further away. These are the same principles in photography and will serve me well when deciding how I want shots to appear in my films.

Through art, I have learned to be flexible, adaptable and to work with what I have. For example, if I wanted to add something to a painting that I thought would compliment my main subject, but it wasn’t working, then I would decide to change it or get rid of it.

 In terms of colors, I have learned to mix colors to get the shade I want in a painting if I didn’t have the exact color. That has led me to be able to think on my toes and work with what I have, instead of going out and purchasing new items. This will allow me to keep my film budgets on the lower side by reassessing what I have and what could work, instead of running out to buy something new. It will increase my creativity and innovation when it comes to filming.

Sarah: What kind of stories are you compelled to write in your literature, and do you think you will maintain a similar theme in your films after your short stories are adapted?

Karen: I tend to be drawn towards thrillers, spinning unexpected tails, surprises, and twists. I think most of my films will be that genre. However, I also like a great comedy with a strong story behind it.

Sarah: What do you think will be the greatest barrier(s) when trying to depict your short stories in film, and how do you think you will counteract this?

Karen: The greatest barrier I see for myself is taking the extent of my imagination, which can go anywhere in written stories, and making them realistic in film. I will be relying on a crew with much more experience to tell me when I must reign in an idea if something is simply not possible to do the way I envision it.

Sarah: In what ways has it been beneficial for you to have a short story written before adapting it to the screen, and do you think you will continue with this sort of writing style?

Karen: Honestly, for me, it has been easier to write my first few scripts because I had already written them as short stories. I have found it easier to shorten my written stories and adapt them to short films, than coming up with a brand-new idea and starting from scratch. I just needed to decide what had to go and what had to stay to turn the most intriguing part of my stories into scripts for film. I still have a few more previously written short stories and ideas for short films before I have to go ‘cold turkey’, but even then, I think I will have no problem since just being outdoors can make a new idea pop into my head.

Honest Portraits: An Interview with Robert Gow

By Sarah Brewer

Before we get into the interview, if you find yourself interested in checking out Robert Gow’s latest project, Real Verdicts, it can be found on Fibe TV1’s Channel 1 and on the Fibe TV app.

Sarah: What kinds of stories do you find yourself returning to, and why do you think they resonate with you?

Robert: When I got into this, I liked the idea of a career exploring all the different aspects of being a human being. At this point, I've done about 40 or 50 short documentaries, and I feel like I've been able to explore quite a bit.

So, in that context, I'm always drawn to trying to examine different people's psychology who have either lived through very unique experiences or are part of various subcultures, whether they be, you know, police officers or criminals or people who have dealt with very intense medical issues. In exploring these different people's psychologies, I find I'm very frequently brought back to their familial dynamics, how they relate to their own mortality, what their dreams were as a child and how those dreams reflect who they are today.

It's funny, when I go into making a project, those aren't necessarily the themes I'm thinking. However, when I look at the final cut, those tend to be the things I always come back to because I find those to be the most interesting.

Sarah: What project has challenged you the most, and what did it teach you?

Robert: Every project I've done, I always try to bite off more than I can chew — I like feeling challenged and stressed, and I like pushing myself. So, at any given moment, every project I took on felt like this super difficult, challenging task. That being said, I feel like my most recent series, Real Verdicts, is the one that I grew the most from as an artist.

Over my last few projects, I started appreciating that I am the media, and therefore I have access to things that I never thought in a million years I would have access to. In Real Verdicts, it was really me pushing myself as a producer as far as I could go: who are the people who will agree to talk to me, who are the institutions that might agree to be on camera, and where are the places I can go.

So, amongst those, we filmed an episode inside of Dorchester Penitentiary with a man who had been convicted of second-degree murder in which he gave us a tour of the whole facility. We did another episode with an RCMP officer where we got to film in the station and drive around in the car. Then, we were able to get former gang members to talk on camera and all these sorts of things, and it just really expanded my understanding of what me as a documentary filmmaker could actually pursue.

Sarah: Were there any stories featured in Real Verdicts that challenged or surprised you personally during the research process?

Robert: What do you mean by research process?

Sarah: I really want to know a little background on what you do before you start reaching out to people; I'd love to hear about what goes on behind the scenes.

Robert: It varies from subject to subject. I'm always looking for people to talk to. So, with anyone who's talked to me for more than 10 minutes, I'll probably be like, “Hey, do you know anybody who might be willing to talk on camera who might have an interesting story?” So, I'm always doing that. I'm always researching topics I find interesting online to try to find if there are local people who have written books on a subject or that sort of stuff. So, for instance, Danny LeBlanc — who was a correctional officer who was responsible for handling things like riots and hostages — he had written a memoir a few years ago, which I felt like didn't get enough press attention, but I thought was incredibly compelling; I wanted to highlight him. Other people, I posted ads on Facebook, and they reached out to me directly. So, for instance, Tony Beare, who is currently a TikTok star, who used to be a member of the FOB gang in Calgary — who participated in the deadliest gang war in Calgary's history — he reached out to me. Other people, you know, Jeremiah, for instance, I met when I was filming Tony's episode, who was another man who was involved in a lot of criminal activity back in Ottawa. So, the research process is kind of all over the place and trying to find people, and not just find people, but also connect with people that I think would be good on camera and are willing to be vulnerable. I’ll talk to a lot of these people, first, on Zoom or we'll have coffee or something, and I'm trying to find people who are at a place in their life where they're willing to be honest about what they've been through; and a lot of people aren't actually at that place in their life yet.

The surprises to me in that process were just that certain people were willing to talk on camera and were willing to be so vulnerable. In terms of the actual shooting of the project, I thought it was very interesting how positively certain interview subjects talked about people on the other side of the criminal line. Danny LeBlanc had very nice things to say about a lot of the people that he met who were serving serious time in prison, and despite them doing some criminal acts and winding up in prison, they could still ultimately be good people who could get rehabilitated and re-enter society. Similarly, in the final episode where I talked to Sean Ryan, who had served 45 years in prison, he talks about how for the first few decades, he couldn't even see the prison guards as human beings; he could just see them as people who were keeping him locked up. It wasn't until he got older and more mature could he appreciate that these people had families of their own and had people they loved, and he could see the humanity in them.

I thought it was very fascinating to listen to people discuss people who they could hypothetically have an adversarial relationship with in a very positive way; I thought that was quite moving.

Sarah: It sounds like your research is very community-based: you're talking to people on the street, and you're reading literature by people in the province.

Yeah, I have a stack of books; dozens of self-published novels from just different people in Fredericton and New Brunswick in general, and 99% of them don't know I'm reading them, but I have like a very impressive stack of just local memoirs.

Sarah: What role did research play in shaping the narrative of Real Verdicts, and how did you ensure the stories remained authentic?

Robert: In terms of research, I always try to have at least a working knowledge of the places I'm entering. When I went into Dorchester Penitentiary, I tried to find every article written about the institution in the last decade or two. Similarly, if I'm talking to somebody who has been involved in a gang, I try to read a lot about that gang; I’ll try to read a lot about the stuff they were getting up to. I’ll find different perspectives on it: I'll go to both sort of mainstream news sources and then random internet commentators on Reddit to try to get different perspectives. I don't necessarily think the random Reddit comments are as useful, but I think it's still interesting to get different people's perspectives on any given story I'm working on.

How do I ensure they are authentic? To me, it's a matter of entering these spaces, trying to make people feel comfortable with me so that they are open to being vulnerable and honest on camera. A lot of times when I'm interviewing people, we're chatting all day or for multiple days, and then I have to shrink everything they say into like a 10- or 20-minute-long episode — that can be quite a challenge. So, to me, ensuring that, even though I am shrinking a big story down, I'm not taking anything out of context, and everything is still true to what they were saying. That's also very important to me.

Sarah: Documentary filmmakers often carry a responsibility to represent real people with care. How did you navigate the ethical considerations involved in telling these stories?

Robert: Something that I like telling people when these conversations come up is that I'm not interviewing people who don't want to be interviewed. I think that's an important thing to say. I've had friends talk to me about their own projects and they're like, “It's going well, but this person who I really need to talk to doesn't like answering questions, or doesn't like being on camera.” To that I go, “Yeah, you can't make them. If they don't want to talk to you, they're not going to talk to you.”

The first step is trying to find somebody who's at a place in their life where they feel comfortable talking about these things and can do it in a very forthright manner, as opposed to surprising people on camera or asking questions they don't want to answer, that sort of stuff. Generally, before I interview someone, we'll talk for a little bit and I'll explain, “If I ask you a question and you don't feel comfortable answering the question, there's no pressure to answer a question.” Similarly, we're trying to have a very relaxed atmosphere here — I'm at the place in my career now where before someone talks to me, they can go back and watch all my own work and decide whether or not I make the type of films that they would want to participate in.

When I'm going into these conversations, the people are aware that they're there to talk about very serious things, and it's not shocking to them. A lot of people will share very personal and very traumatic things they have been through, but they want to share that with the world; it's not as if I'm prying these things out of these people. It's very important to always approach this sensitive material with a sense of empathy and compassion, because all my subjects are really putting themselves out there, and I get that that's a very courageous and difficult thing to do. I have tremendous respect for these people — I feel like as I talk to them, and how I present them in the final edit, the subjects can feel that respect.

I've never had anybody angrily walk away from an interview. Similarly, I would say people will answer 99.9% of the questions I ask. The only exceptions are sometimes people will be like, “Oh, that actually might implicate someone or involve someone else that doesn't want the story told publicly.” Those are really the only times people won't want to talk about things; but generally, walking into these sorts of interviews, people are like, “No, I'm at a place in my life where I want to share stuff,” whether that be traumatic or not.

Sarah: What conversations do you hope Real Verdicts sparks among audiences?

Robert: The aim of Real Verdicts was to create very honest portraits of different people who are involved in different aspects of the criminal justice system; and to me, I was always trying to paint them in a very honest light, both good and bad with some of the people involved. How people take that honesty is ultimately up to them. However, I do hope it fosters a sense of empathy.

Robert Gow

Rebellious Nature: An Interview with Jared Carney

By Sarah Brewer

How do you approach storytelling? When you begin writing a film, do you start with a concrete storyline or abstract themes?

I rarely have a fully concrete story when I begin writing. Often, I'll have a pretty clear image of something in my head, and that's what kicks everything off. From there, I'll usually develop a decent concept or theme, and an idea for the beginning or ending when I start outlining a story. Then begins the painful process of connecting everything!

How does your experience working in art influence your writing, and vice versa?

I watch A LOT of horror films and documentaries, both features and shorts, and I see many similarities in their storylines and shot choices. So, when I'm creating something, I try to remind myself to go against that, because I've literally seen it hundreds of times. On the flip side of that, if I'm going with something that has been done a lot before, I strive to do it really well.

 Also, I work in the arts outside of film, so I am aware that funding can be very much feast or famine. So, I think it's important to write while keeping production in mind, because you may be forced to pivot your vision depending on what kind of budget you end up with. There are many artists in this province and we're all applying to the same funding streams, and things don't always land in your favour. However, I am appreciative that we have arts funding available to apply for!

How does being based in New Brunswick influence your writing and filmmaking?

I'm not sure how it does to be honest. I guess I haven't been that introspective on that front. I think especially right now with the world being so unstable, there's a sort of anger in the air. Maybe it's just me, but the constant weight of the atrocities happening globally, environmental destruction at our doorstep, and AI threatening our entire industry, I can see how that is influencing some of the ideas I'm interested in and the stories I want to tell.

 What is it about film as a medium that inspires you?

I like that you can control basically every second of your film, and I really love the montage theory of it all. How the order of your shots can alter the way your story is received is super cool to me. I also grew up in a small town with no theatre, so going to see a movie was a whole day outing — I just remember it being so much fun. I think I've been chasing that feeling I felt as a kid!

You have worked on quite a few horror films. Why do you think you are attracted to this genre?

There's a rebellious nature to horror that I just love; there's a sort of sense of wrongness to it, which is why I think people are attracted to it. There's not a lot of rules in horror and I think that's why it's so much fun and freeing to make. Nothing is off the table! Lately, horror has become quite inclusive and supportive; I feel it's welcoming and a mostly safe space, which you don't get often nowadays.

Through your experience with horror, what is something you’ve learned to avoid in the genre?

Nothing. One of the beautiful things about horror is that you don't need to shy away from a single thing; whether it's a sensitive topic or a trope, there's a way to explore it and do it well.

If you could go back and give yourself advice after finishing your very first script, what would you say?

Simplify! Boil your story down to its most essential parts and shoot that. Don't waste your time overshooting logistical, nit-picky stuff. Your audience isn't stupid; they can fill in the gaps themselves. Be confident in the decisions you make, but go all the way, and don't waste your time with half measures.

A Producer’s Brain and an Actor’s Heart: An Interview with Ariana Marquis

By Sarah Brewer

1. What does New Brunswick give to you creatively as a filmmaker, and what makes being based here challenging?

I would say that, creatively, there’s a lot of support. There’s support financially, there’s support community-wise, which I think is very helpful when starting out as an independent or established filmmaker. There’s just a lot of opportunity.

What makes being here challenging as a filmmaker is probably the same thing: there’s not as many people. Maybe you have to drive around longer to get to different places to meet people or to go to different projects, or to get hired on different things; I’m not sure. I would say, yeah, I’m a filmmaker, but I would say, first, I’m an actor, so that brings its own set of challenges.

1.2 If you wanted to talk about that as well, feel free, because that is an interesting perspective.

I think I do have a sort of unique experience with everything just because my filmmaking is inspired by my acting. The films I’ve made have been for me to have an opportunity to act while being here. It’s funny because I attended a workshop through the Film Co-op a couple months ago, and the person facilitating, Vanessa King, asked everyone kind of like an opening question: “what’s your inspiration for writing films?” Some people said, “to go to film festivals,” or “because I want to create,” and for me, I didn’t say it, because I’m like, “to give myself parts.” I have done filmmaking outside of giving myself parts: I’ve directed, but that’s mostly music videos, which are fun. I love directing music videos. However, I doubt that I would ever write something that I wouldn’t be in. It would be an interesting challenge, but it also wouldn’t make much sense with my current goals.

2. How was it transitioning from actor to filmmaker? What pushed you in that direction, and how has this experience been?

I first did it during COVID. I moved back home, and I wanted to give myself an opportunity to act, so I just thought, “okay, I’m going to apply for a grant to make my own film.” I wrote up my own film, Jerrycan very quickly and made it. So, it was an interesting transition, because I had never directed, but I had produced before. I have a producer's brain and an actor's heart, which is what I always say — that’s kind of what I’m made of. So, directing kind of came naturally because I’ve produced before; I had strong connections with cast and crew, and that made directing feel a bit seamless, especially when it’s a collaborative process.

3. How has your work as an actor shaped the way you direct performers?

I think it’s special when you work with a director that has experience acting, and maybe it's helpful when actors have experience directing. l have always had fantastic experiences with directors in New Brunswick, and elsewhere, because they take you out for coffee, have meetings, learn about you; you build a bond, which I think it’s a no-brainer when you’re a lead character. You need to trust the person that you’re working with. That has helped a lot. I might not be the most experienced director, I might not know all the film references, and all the terminology, but that’s when I lean on my collaborators: to know that kind of stuff and to be open to communicating. When someone can feel comfortable expressing themselves in the space with you. It’s the best.

4. What kind of stories do you feel most compelled to tell right now, and what compels you to tell stories?

My first instinct is to say female-driven stories. I am inspired by my own experiences; I am inspired by my friend’s and family’s experiences. Yeah, I just like female-driven stories that are fun, funny, dramatic, silly, sad. I am also super interested in generational trauma as a topic, and kind of how and why we are the way we are. What compels me to tell stories? I think it’s just because I need to.

5. What was the original spark for Lunar Day, and did the film change as you moved from idea to production?

Yes, totally. So, the idea started because of my producer’s location. I met my producer, Eilidh Kennedy at her place in St. Andrews — a gorgeous, waterside property, very close to Minister’s Island — and we essentially just said, “okay, we have this space, what kind of story can we tell in this space?” That’s honestly where I start writing a story because of my producer brain, I kind of think of like, “okay, we need to figure out a location that’s going to be accessible, beautiful and unique. So, what do we have access to, and then let’s write a story on that.” So, that’s where Lunar Day came from. Eilidh and I had a lot of conversations; then, I just sort of wanted to write this story about a topic that isn’t talked about enough, which is the gray area of sexual assault. Also, so many stories that we see involve a traumatic event, which can be a tough watch. Everyone’s situation with trauma is always so different and unique that sometimes it’s so hard to portray all of them on screen or in a story. Essentially, this film takes place after, so you never even see what happens. You know a few details and how the person feels afterwards: what they know, what they don’t know, and how they  deal with it 24 hours after it happens, because you go through quite a wave. It’s on the ocean, Passamaquoddy Bay which has the highest tides in the world. It’s very similar to what we can experience as humans within a day, specifically following something traumatic. I think it’s an interesting topic, and I really want to hear what people think.

It evolved a lot even since I submitted my application to get funding for it through the Film Co-op and through the award I got during Silver Wave. I don’t even think it’s the same story, honestly. I just felt like it was the story I had to change it into and had to tell. I sat on it for a while, too. It took me quite a long time to finish it, but I’m really glad I did because I think I needed to evolve with it. I’m excited! I hope it goes to Silver Wave, and I hope people enjoy it.

6. You shot Lunar Day on Minister’s Island. What is the significance of this location, and what were you trying to portray by shooting there?

So, this is amazing, and a really good story. My producer was also working on the island for the summertime; she was a summer student there and had asked her boss if we could film there, and he said, “yes.” Two days before production, he said, “actually, never mind,” and we did it anyway, because we have to — it’s very significant to the story. I don’t want to give away the story, but there’s obviously a journey to the island, and the tide comes back up, and you’re stranded on an island. I think a lot of people can feel like that when they go through something, and they feel alone: you feel like you’re stranded on an island. So, who do you find on that island? I think what’s found represents your community: the people that you find who have gone through something similar to you, or if someone who is close to you and can support you, they are the people who are on the island with you. That was the significance of the island.

I really wanted to film there, too, because it’s the most gorgeous place in the world, and it’s so unique. We filmed on it, and the tide went up while we were filming, and then we just had to wait it out for like six hours. So, we had dinner, had some wine, and waited until we could go back over to the mainland — it was just so special.

Also, I think the last time a film was shot there was a Baldwin brother film. It’s called Red Rover, and it was with Billy Baldwin.

7. Was there a moment on Lunar Day when you felt, “yes, this is the film?”

Although it was a heavy film at times to shoot, we did have a lot of fun throughout. There’s a scene where my character looks out at the women on the island that I walk to — spoiler but it’s okay there’s photos of them — and they’re just totally present. First of all, they all showed up on the day, which was so fun! Most of them aren’t actors; we asked them because they’re just beautiful people that I love so much, and they all just said, “yes.” Seeing them all in the linen, they just looked so beautiful! Yeah, looking at all of them looking at me felt really special. There’s a lot of impact there. 

Powerful Perspectives: An Interview with Rebecca Tremblay

By Sarah Brewer

How has your background outside of film, especially in international development and languages, shaped your values as a filmmaker?

In 2010, I was selected for a Students Without Borders 3-month internship in Burkina Faso, West Africa, where I directed a local Youth Theatre Troupe and introduced them to puppetry. We toured a dozen elementary schools with educational puppet shows, performing for excited audiences of over 700 children! This experience really confirmed that I could have a career outside the box.

I went on to study International Development at La Trobe University in Melbourne, Australia on a full scholarship from Rotary International. At the time, I was motivated to start my own non-profit organization to support children in developing countries, using my special tool to connect with kids in ways that adults cannot, puppets!

In 2014, I founded The Puppeteaching Project, performing puppet shows for schools, festivals, libraries and events all over New Brunswick. This led to the rise of a second business, It’s OK to be Awesome, which offered mental wellness programming and mindset coaching for kids.

In 2018, my team and I received TELUS Fund financing to create a puppet pilot episode for television. Bringing our ideas to life on set was such an amazing experience, and it inspired me to transition into acting and making my own films. 

I also have a background in Divine Feminine Coaching and Compassionate Inquiry (a form of psychotherapy), and my interest in supporting and empowering people has informed a lot of the themes of my film work. It has also influenced the type of collaborative ecosystem I cultivate on set, prioritizing kindness and respectful communication, and ensuring that cast and crew members feel cared for, heard, and that their contribution matters. 

I have many stories stemming from my time spent abroad (44 countries so far), and I am manifesting an international co-production in my future!

How has being an actor influenced the kind of producer or filmmaker you are becoming?

I fell in love with theatre and performance as a child and acted in every school play throughout middle and high school. My first on-screen role was for a CBC movie called The Dance when I was 12 years old. I reconnected with my love of acting after having my first child in my early thirties. Experiencing birth and becoming a mom changes you, and awakens you to your purpose. I could no longer ignore my passion! I’ve booked some really fun roles since my humble beginnings, with the most recent being an RCMP Officer in the Crave series, Bon Cop Bad Cop.

My years of acting in films, television shows and over 30 commercials have given me a lot of experience on some very large, professional sets, which has contributed to my knowledge and skillset as a director and producer. As an actor turned filmmaker, I have insight on how to direct and best support actors on set and in their scenes, and a well-supported actor who feels safe to authentically express themselves elevates the whole production.

What does the name Elmire Films mean to you, and how does it reflect the kind of work you want to create?

Elmire is my middle name. It was my Québécois great-grandmother’s name on my father’s side. It means illustrious, she shines. It’s a feminine name that reflects the women-centered work I create.

When I first founded my production company, I named it By Odin’s Beard Pictures after my son, who starred in my first grant-awarded short film, Good Mom, with me. I operated under that name for 3 years, but as my body of artistic work grew, I decided I wanted a name that better represented the kinds of stories I tell, which are stories about women’s lived experience, including themes such as the grief of losing a child, surviving sexual violence, and navigating postpartum depression. Elmire Films felt like the right fit!

 What makes a project feel like the right fit for Elmire Films?

First of all — does it pass the Bechdel Test?

The Bechdel Test is a measure used to evaluate the representation and visibility of women in fiction. In order to pass, a work must meet three simple rules: 

1. It has to feature at least two women.

2. Those women must have a conversation with each other.

3. Their discussion must be about something other than a man.

 Women continue to be underrepresented in the film industry, with studies indicating that at current rates, gender parity for directors will not be reached until 2047.

Including more women in crew roles is a very needed step here in New Brunswick, where the vast majority of film, television and commercial teams are made up of predominantly men. This affects the stories being told and the audiences being reached.

According to a 2026 study conducted by researchers at Mount Allison University in Sackville, NB, out of 188 films nominated for best picture and best animated feature at the Academy Awards between 2001 and 2023, most of the films sexualized women, portrayed them only as caregivers, and female characters lacked their own changing and complex storylines.

Women bring powerful perspectives to film, and it’s important not only to include them, but to elevate and integrate their voices into stories told on-screen.

Elmire Films’ mission is to champion women both behind and in front of the camera by creating opportunities for underrepresented creatives, and by telling stories that reflect the complexity and emotional truth of women’s lived experience. Elmire Films strives to contribute to a more inclusive and compassionate film industry where authentic representation is prioritized.

Projects that feel like a fit for Elmire Films are ones that demonstrate depth, emotional intelligence, and have bold themes. Preferred genres include drama, psychological thriller, comedy and dark comedy.

What are a few of the barriers you’ve encountered while running Elmire Films, and what have been the successes?

Barriers: Getting the momentum going. I was awarded two grants in 2022 to make Good Mom and HUM, and finding the right crew was challenging at first. Now that I’ve been working in the industry for a few years, I know more film folks and have a better sense of who is a fit and who I love to collaborate with! I also got pregnant and had a baby in 2024, so that put a substantial pause on my filmmaking trajectory. I’m back at it now and excited to be working on a multitude of projects, including a comedy series, a psychological drama feature film, and two new shorts; an experimental film about the romanticization of motherhood, and a comedy that tells the story of a spirited francophone Mémère and her darling grandson who share a unique bond through their competitive chess matches. 

Successes: Receiving grants for professional development and for the creation of film projects! It’s so encouraging! I was awarded my first Canada Council for the Arts artistic creation grant in 2025 after applying frequently over many years. I’ve gotten my fair share of “Nos,” and I think it’s important to share that too, so that emerging filmmakers know it’s normal. Rejection is part of this industry – Keep going!

What do you think the New Brunswick film industry needs the most right now to help filmmakers build sustainable careers?

-       More professionally paid work, more funding for local projects.

-       Ensuring more diverse representation and gender parity in film and television projects, not just on screen but behind the camera too.

-       More financed women-led projects.

-       Our own awards ceremony, ‘Screen New Brunswick Awards Gala’ so that deserving artists and creatives can be recognized and celebrated.

-       Opportunities for emerging filmmakers to have paid mentorships with established directors and producers within New Brunswick. Especially in hands-on roles on set.

-       For filmmakers to expand beyond their “tried and true” friend groups when building their teams, and invite new crew members to work on their productions.

-       NB Filmmaker Labs and Screenwriting Labs

-       Did I mention more financed women-led projects?

The Heart of The Story: An Interview with Lar Collicott

By Sarah Brewer

When creating a film, how do you decide what belongs in the frame and what is more powerful when left unsaid?

Lar: It is totally driven by the story because every story has a different need — it has a different appetite. So, the old adage, does it further the story, does it move the story along? That’s just a rule of thumb for everybody: if it doesn’t move the story along, it shouldn’t be seen and it shouldn’t be heard. Quite often you can move the story along without showing anything. Do we know what happened in Chrissy between the playground and when she wakes up in the future? You don’t know; you get little snippets that Megan and her grandmother found her, but when we get to the ending, we don’t know what happens. Leaving that Hitchcockian imagination to it — of how they got there — that’s good. I think it’s more important what you leave off the screen than what you put on. Invite an opportunity for imagination.

What has filmmaking taught you about people that you don’t think you could have learned any other way?

Lar: Everyone is looking for an opportunity — a method — to just be free. Everybody wants to express themselves, but they’re all so bound up in the bullshit of life. They’re nervous, they are defensive, they’re afraid to be themselves, they’re afraid to explore new things. One of the things that I’ve observed has been how some of my actresses really embrace a part, and lean into it, because they get to do something that they can’t do in real life. They don’t get to kill someone; they don’t get to, you know, to be strong in the way that the film lets them be strong. 

I write my parts with particular people in mind to play them, so, I know that they’re strong. I know that they take names and kick butt. So, I give them an avenue to kick butt in a way that they’re not going to get in normal, day-to-day, life. I watch them lean into that, and really express it, and really enjoy it. Even with the people out there that you think, “they’re free to be themselves,” there’s always more. We don’t see the complete picture of anybody. You don’t see the complete picture of me; I don’t see the complete picture of you. If we knew each other for the next twelve years, we would still not know that, right? So, everyone’s looking for freedom to do something that they don’t feel they can do within the confines of daily life. 

What is something that audiences consistently notice in your work that you never consciously intended to put there?

Lar: I don’t think I have an answer for that because the thing that people do talk to me about — and I’ve gotten messages from all over the world — is that they feel the emotion. Perhaps, I’ve been lucky that I’ve been able to steer the responses from audiences to what I was trying to do. The sweet spot for short films is seven minutes, not twenty minutes. Twenty minutes is too long. When you’re making shorter films in the five, six, seven-minute range, there’s not a whole lot of extra room in there. You give your message, you tell your story, and you’re there — there’s not a whole lot of room for extra things. And maybe people are picking up on other things that I had not intended that I don’t know about because it does screen in places that I’d never been to. Tucked In has been selected for 62 festivals all over the world. I didn’t go to 62 festivals. I don’t have that many airmiles saved up. So yeah, I don’t think so because I’m not wasting minutes of a film. I’m very much a heart on my sleeve kind of person even though my shields are up all the time. You’ll never really wonder what I’m thinking. 

Has making films in New Brunswick altered your perception of what makes a story universal?

Lar: If you make a story emotional, it’s going to be universal. If you try to be preachy, it’s not. I don’t think I’m trying to be preachy with my films. I am sure that there are folks that think I am; that’s up to them. If you’re making a story that’s based on emotion, it’s going to be universal. If you’re trying to play into current trends, current ideas, current culture, it’s not. Like, I don’t want to see a movie about anti-woke this, or anti-fascist that. I am inundated with that all day long. I don’t need to see another movie about that; I’ll just open up Instagram.

It’s Pride month. If your story is about pride, and it has an emotional impact to it, that’s universal. But, if you’re just making it to say, “I made a Pride movie so I can check that box off,” that’s not a universal story, that’s you being self-aggrandizing. Emotion makes stories universal. If you’re trying to pick and choose and check boxes with something that you think someone wants to hear about, think about, watch, that’s not going to be universal. 

Here’s another example, why is everyone in North America suddenly all wound up about the FIFA world cup? It’s not really patriotism, it’s emotion. People watch thirty minutes of soccer and then they’re an expert? You know, they’re caught up in that because it’s an emotional thing. That’s what makes it universal — the emotion of it. Not the patriotism, nationalism, that’s not what makes it universal, it’s the emotion of the game. 

What scene from your body of work best represents your worldview, and why? 

Lar: That’s a tough one because I don’t really make movies about my worldview. I am a fiscal conservative, a social liberal. I am a conservative that doesn’t vote conservative because fuck Pierre Poilievre. My worldview is: this is one world, we do not need to dominate each other, we do not need to lord it over each other. This is one world, this is one planet, one group of people; everybody bleeds red, and everybody ends up in the dirt. So, none of us is any better than anybody else. That’s my worldview, and I haven’t really made anything about that. The golden rule is to do unto others as you want them to do unto you. Whether it’s the teachings of Jesus, or the teachings of Mohammed, or of Buddha — just love each other. And, if you can just do that, everything’s going to be okay. To wrap those things up, the final shot of Chrissy: is it real? Is it her daughter or is it not her daughter? Does she find the backpack? The final shot of Chrissy is laden with emotion — there’s love in it, there’s grief in it, and there’s regret in it, and that is life. Life is love, grief, and regret. 

If your entire filmography ended up being remembered for just one idea, what would you want that idea to be? 

Lar: I’m an old, white, straight guy, and I consider myself a feminist filmmaker. In Chrissy, the principal cast are all ladies. The guys only exist in the movie to die. The women are the heroes. In Tucked In, there’s not a guy on camera. My stories — my more recent stories — are inspired by the fact that I’m a girl dad. I’ve got two daughters that I love very much. I tell the stories that have an emotional impact on me; what does a father feel? So, Chrissy was about a mother, but by God, that’s every father’s fear, too, right? That’s every father’s fear: losing a child. In Tucked In, that’s every father’s fear, too, we just don’t get to express it; we’re not allowed to express it. Despite everything, you know, all the little cool cliches and things, we’re not allowed to express it. So, I get to express some of my things through the female characters in my films. I hope people look at it and go, “that’s a guy that loved his daughters.” I have many daughters: I have two biological daughters, and I have many others that I have just inherited and adopted — if you act in my movie, you become one of my girls, they’re all mine, they’re all my children, and I view them that way. I am proud of all of them. That’s my worldview, you know, love each other. Love your family, take care of your family protect your family, protect the people that become your family, protect the people that aren’t your family, protect everybody. Just be a good person.

Curiosity Hasn’t Killed This Cat: An Interview with Musician, Photographer & Filmmaker, Rebecca Tinsley

By Sarah Brewer

1. You work in many creative fields, including filmmaking, editing, sound, photography and music. Did you start with one art form, or did they all develop at the same time for you?
I started in music: I played guitar, saxophone and sang, and for a long time I was pretty convinced that was going to be the thing. My original plan in college was to become an orchestral engineer, which feels very specific in hindsight, but at the time it made total sense to me. So, I went to school for audio engineering and music production, which felt like the natural next step. However, quickly after graduating, I fell into video and editing at my first job. That was not part of the plan at all, but it ended up being one of those “oh no, this is actually what I love” situations. Since then, I’ve basically just been chasing whatever lets me combine sound, story, rhythm, and visuals in the same place which is filmmaking.

2. What has your background in music taught you about storytelling?
Music basically teaches you everything you need to know about timing and patience, because sometimes you’re just staring at a metronome for a very long time; but seriously, it taught me rhythm and emotional pacing more than anything. You learn quickly that it’s not just about what notes you play, it’s about when you play them, and what you leave out. I think I carry that into editing a lot — I’m always thinking, “does this moment need space?” or “are we rushing past something that should actually hit harder?” Music makes you aware that silence can do a lot of heavy lifting.

3. What makes a strong editor, beyond knowing the software?
Honestly, knowing the software is the easy part — you can learn buttons. You can’t really “download vision,” though. A strong editor is someone who understands storytelling and emotion, and who can sit with a messy pile of footage and slowly figure out what the actual heart of it is. It’s a bit like solving a puzzle where half the pieces are missing and some of them are from the wrong puzzle entirely. Also, I think good editors know when to kill their darlings. Like, yes, that shot looks amazing, but does it belong here? Or are we just emotionally attached because it took six hours and a lot of caffeine to get? The best edits usually feel invisible, which is basically the goal (but also slightly ironic after how long you spent on them). The most important thing to remember is editing isn't something anyone is just born naturally amazing at. I definitely wasn’t born a savant in the art of storytelling. Becoming an editor is an acquired skill; it takes practice, repetition, and a lot of trial and error, just like anything else. You slowly start to develop instincts, but those instincts come from time spent making a lot of things that don’t work before you figure out what does.

4. When you are editing someone else’s project, how do you balance your own instincts with the director’s vision?
I usually start by trying to figure out what the director really means when they say what they want. Sometimes “make it feel snappier” can mean five completely different things depending on the person. Once I understand the intention, I try to use my instincts to support that, not override it. I’ll always bring ideas forward if I think something can be stronger, but I don’t really see editing as “my version” of the project — it’s more like helping shape their version into the best version for the screen. It’s a bit like being a translator, but for emotions and pacing instead of languages.

5. You produced and appeared in That Kind of Worked with your twin sister Samantha. What was it like creating a series so close to home and rooted in Fredericton?

It’s honestly been one of the most fun projects I’ve ever worked on, and, occasionally chaotic in the way only working with your twin can be. We’ve been really lucky to produce That Kind of Worked in Fredericton and build it in a place where people were genuinely open to letting us try things, fail at things, and occasionally succeed at things in a very unexpected way. We’ve also (as of 48 hours ago) just been green lit for another season, which is the first time I’m saying that publicly, so that’s exciting (and mildly terrifying). This time we’re taking the chaos beyond Fredericton, and across New Brunswick, which feels a little like upgrading the difficulty level of the game. Working with my twin sister Samantha is its own category of experience. There’s no formal communication system; we just kind of look at each other and already know what the problem is, which is helpful… and sometimes dangerous.

6. You have experience in many roles — producer, editor, sound, camera, stills, performer. How has that range helped you understand the filmmaking process?
It’s made me a lot more forgiving of everyone involved in filmmaking because I’ve probably been the person causing the problem in every department at some point. When you’ve worked in sound, you understand how important clean production audio is. When you’ve edited, you understand how coverage decisions on set change everything in post. When you’ve produced, you understand the constraints behind every creative decision. So overall, it just makes you more aware of how interconnected everything is. Nothing exists in isolation in film, even if we sometimes pretend it does.

7. When people look at your body of work — film, editing, sound, and music — what do you hope they understand about you as an artist?
I hope they see someone who is genuinely curious, and maybe slightly incapable of sticking to just one thing for too long, but in the best way. More than anything, I care about finding creative ways to bring ideas to life, no matter what form that takes. For me, it’s never really been about one discipline, it’s about storytelling, and figuring out the best way to make something feel engaging and (hopefully, even just a little bit) memorable. I also hope it encourages people to start things. I’ve been really lucky to have people around me who keep me motivated and basically pushed me to stop overthinking and just try things even if they weren’t perfect. If there’s one thing this industry has taught me, it’s that the only real thing holding you back is telling yourself you can’t do it. The second you decide you can (even a little bit) the rest tends to start figuring itself out quickly.

Rooted in Story: A Conversation with Donovan Richard

1) Your profile mentioned you “mentored several filmmakers” including various workshops and training. What would you say inspired you to begin teaching filmmaking?

Don: After spending several years as a producer, production manager, and assistant director for a wide range of film projects through the NB Film Co-op, I realized how valuable it would have been to have a mentor when I first started out. That insight is really what inspired me to begin teaching. I wanted new filmmakers to have the chance to have someone who could help walk them through the process step by step, answer their questions and help them avoid the pitfalls I had to learn the hard way. Sharing the knowledge and skills I’ve gained over the years felt like the right next step. It's not just teaching the fundamentals, but also bringing in my personal experiences from real sets. I find that those stories and lived lessons are what truly resonate and help emerging filmmakers connect the dots in a meaningful way.

2) What would you say has been the most challenging part of your filmmaking career so far?

Don: For me, the biggest challenges in filmmaking have really come down to two things, time and procrastination. They tend to feed into each other. When you procrastinate, you lose valuable time and when time slips away, it becomes harder to stay focused on the projects that truly matter. I’ve learned that time doesn’t wait for anyone, so you have to intentionally carve out space to work on the stories you care about and avoid getting pulled into distractions. Those have been my toughest challenges and they’re still areas I’m actively working to improve on. But acknowledging them has helped me stay more accountable and more committed to the creative work that inspires me.

3) How did you become interested in directing and producing?

Don: My interest in directing and producing really began with my love for storytelling. As a kid, I didn’t recognize it as “storytelling” because I just wanted to become the heroes that I admired. But as I got older and started imagining my own worlds and characters, I realized that I had stories of my own that I wanted to tell, so I explored every outlet I could think of to try and tell thsoe stories. I did writing, drawing, creating adventures through role playing games with friends. But finally, I discovered filmmaking as a medium that could bring all those creative impulses together and as technology evolved, it became way more accessible. I didn’t need to move to a big city or secure massive budgets to start creating. I could tell meaningful stories on a smaller, more intimate scale.

4) What is a project you’re currently working on that you feel excited about?

Don: I’m juggling a few projects right now, but the one I’m most excited about is a historical period drama that’s nearing the point of production. That genre has always been my passion and this particular story has been simmering in my mind for quite a while and thanks to some recent breakthroughs with a few good friends, the script has really started to take shape. It follows a man named Beausoleil whose entire world is torn apart during the tragic events of the Great Upheaval. The film focuses tightly on his emotional journey and the hard decisions he's forced to make to protect his family and the desperate escape that follows. It’s an intimate, character driven story set against a historical backdrop and this is a project I’m genuinely thrilled about.

5) How has the Moncton region inspired your filmmaking?

Don: The Moncton region has been a huge source of inspiration for my filmmaking. It’s rich with history and filled with incredible locations that have shaped many of my projects. From old cemeteries and rustic cabins for my short film on the legend of Rebecca’s Grave, to fort ruins, thick forests and old farms that helped bring my Acadian historical film Délivrance to life to name a few examples. There are still so many untouched locations that I know will elevate future stories that I want to tell. But more than the scenery, it’s the people who inspire me the most in the area. My family, friends, colleagues, and the local arts community have always shown up with support, encouragement, and a willingness to lend a hand. That sense of community fuels my creativity and keeps me grounded. I’m excited for the many more projects still ahead that will be rooted in this corner of Atlantic Canada that I’m proud to call home.

The Light is Re-Ignited - Part 3

By Karen Connor

Connecting the dots

The last two and a half years have been a whirlwind. It feels like all the artistic creativity I had forgotten about came flooding back at once.

About 2.5 years ago, my best friend asked me to go to karaoke with her. I had never gone to karaoke in my life or sung in front of a crowd, although I did try out for a band once. I went with her, and with a friend beside me, I got up to sing one of my all time favorite songs: Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses. After the thunderous applause, I was hooked. From that moment on, I planned and practiced the songs I wanted to sing every week. I realized how much I loved performing — and how much I cared about doing it well.

The more I sang, the more I wanted to create. I started writing my own songs and ended up with nearly a dozen. I shared some at open mics, singing a cappella because I didn’t — and still don’t — know how to write music. After a few unsuccessful attempts at hiring someone to compose music for my songs, I shifted gears and decided to write my first memoir.

I believed my childhood experiences were worth sharing, and I hoped they might help or inspire others. My first book, I Almost Blew Out the Light, was self published just over a year ago. It’s even carried at Chapters in Fredericton, which was a huge accomplishment for me. That achievement reignited my desire to help others who have lived through similar things and fueled my passion for storytelling.

As I mentioned in Part 1 of my story, my uncle was one of the first people in town with a satellite dish, and he recorded scary movies for me. I’ve always had an affinity for thriller and horror films. One of my favorites is Poltergeist, where a powerful spirit tries to lure Heather O’Rourke’s character, Carol Anne, into the ghost realm.

After releasing my first book, I began writing a sequel. I’m about halfway through, but I’m unsure if I’ll finish it because my creative focus has shifted. I’ve also partially written several thriller style short stories and had planned to release them as a compilation, similar to what Stephen King and others have done. The more I write, the more ideas come to me, so I jot them down before they disappear.

Last year, I began seriously considering becoming an actress. I worked as a background actor for Revival Series 1, filmed in Saint John. Soon after, I started imagining my short stories as short films and became excited at the thought of bringing them to life on screen. At first, I pictured myself acting in them — after all, who knows my stories better than I do? With no formal training, I began taking acting classes with Mariel Hunter of Fort Heart Productions in Saint John. After about eight months of classes and workshops, Mariel suggested I join the NB Film Co op.

I joined, along with the NB Casting Call Facebook group and a few others, hoping to catch auditions. I’ve created several self tapes and have auditioned for around six films and theatre productions so far.

Through the NB Film Co op’s recorded workshops, a desire to direct began to grow in me. The idea didn’t feel like a stretch — I already had several short stories partially written, and the leap from story to script felt natural. I’m also comfortable making decisions and leading alongside people who have expertise where I don’t. I’m not afraid of guiding others or being the center of attention. My seven years as a government manager gave me confidence, and running my own art business taught me how to create reels, advertisements, and promotional content for Facebook and Instagram. I’ve also organized and hosted a book reading and signing at a local pub, taught a paint and sip event, and even tried stand up comedy and improv a couple of times.

I’m not afraid to take risks to make something amazing.

I’m also an extremely visual person, so filmmaking feels like a better fit for me than writing stories alone. I’ve written my first script for a short film and have several others in progress. I just need to complete my 30 volunteer hours before I can direct my first short.

Everything I’ve accomplished so far has led me here, and I’m incredibly excited about the possibility of working with a talented team of people who love making films. My goal is to put New Brunswick on the map — to show people that we’re not messing around, and that you don’t have to live in Hollywood to create powerful, emotional, high quality films and television.

From in Front of the Screen to Behind the Camera: an Interview with Jon Wiseman

By Jia Yi Fan

How did you get to where you are now? 

Jon: Like most people involved in this craft, I loved watching movies for as long as I can remember. I knew I wanted to tell my own stories one day. I also knew that it was important not to rely on filmmaking (at least for me) as my only revenue source, so I took marketing after high school. After that, I moved to Halifax and took Screen Arts at Nova Scotia Community College (NSCC). Once I moved back to Saint John after COVID, I thought it made sense for me to start a video business as an entrepreneurial-minded individual. From there, I started working with local businesses, but as of late, I am more interested in getting into the narrative filmmaking space. 

Why did you get into film? 

Jon: I think originally what drew me in was creating silly videos with friends as a kid. As I grew older, I started to look more into the craft, and fell in love with its potential. I always had a deep imagination but never felt like an artsy person, or particularly of any talent in the other visual arts. So, when I discovered film, it felt like an accessible area for someone like me to share my imagination and the worlds, characters and stories that I found moving and interesting. I also always loved the movie theatre experience and desired to have something of my own play on screen one day. 

Where do you get inspiration or ideas for projects? 

Jon: I find most of my ideas start with setting and genre, and once I have an idea of what those are, I wait a few days until the story I want to tell with those parameters will suddenly strike me.

Do you have any films in the works or that you would like to produce in the future? 

Jon: I am developing a feature script at the moment. I hope to finish the script and direct it in the next 12 months. In the meantime, I want to make more connections within the NB film community and build a team I can bring into the project. 

Any advice for aspiring or emerging filmmakers?

Jon: The best way to write interesting stories is to have a wide interest. I spent years hyperfocused on filmmaking, learning about movie history, camera types, gear, film criticism, and the culture associated with it. None of that helped me to write more interesting stories. For a long time, I couldn't figure out what I wanted to say with my stories. It wasn't until I took a step away, started living life, making mistakes, facing challenges, reading about history, and connecting with other people outside of film, that I started to figure out what there was for me to say or to explore. 

What did you wish you knew before diving into filmmaking?

 Jon: That it would be a marathon and not a sprint. There is no such thing as overnight successes. 

Favorite movie or show? 

Jon: Oh gosh, impossible to choose. I love and always come back to the Lord of the Ring (LOTR) trilogy. Those were probably some of the most influential films for sparking my love of cinema. The behind-the-scenes production diaries were almost as enjoyable to watch as the actual films. Gladiator stands out, Interstellar, Scott Pilgram, Saving Private Ryan, Before Sunrise… Gosh, so many I can't think of. It's an ever changing list.

If you could work with anybody (including celebrities), who would it be? 

Jon: Probably Roger Deakins as my Cinematographer, and Cillian Murphy and Anya Taylor-Joy as my lead actors.

The Film That Almost Didn’t Happen

By Jia Yi Fan

I came into the New Brunswick (NB) film industry like a wrecking ball, breaking the traditional path beginner filmmakers take to ease in and produce their creations, very vaguely paraphrasing Cat’s words.

This journey wasn’t without its ups and downs. 

I’ve been applying to grants and artist-in-residence opportunities since June 2025. Defeated by rejections after rejections, I told myself that if I didn’t get the NB Film Co-op Telling Our Stories grant, I would give up on making my film. It would be a sign that this was just not for me. 

In mid-January 2026, I was notified that I got the funding. While I was delving into research, I learned that 9 days prior, my interviewee announced stepping down from drag. I had a mini crisis. But then, I realised that I came at a pivotal time in his life.

Lo and behold, things fell into place, and on April 18-19th, 2026, I drove down to shoot Normand, I, a short documentary about the life of Normand Hector, also known as Normani, the only Black drag queen in New Brunswick.

This experience broke many firsts for me: first time in Saint John, first funded movie (aka with a budget that’s not 0$) and first time working with a professional crew (aka not with my high school classmates).

Jia Yi’s work process

This film was the result of many interconnected events. I picked up a promotional flyer for the Queer Heritage Initiative of NB at a Garrison Night Market in Fredericton, not knowing that the image featured the Len & Cub book. Then, I read the aforementioned book. Fast forward some time, I met Meredith Batt (one of the book’s co-authors) for the first time at a Fredericton pride event, then again at another pride event in Moncton, where I struck up a conversation and got wind of my interviewee's name. I watched Normani perform at Moncton’s 2025 pride closing concert but without grasping their name. 

Making this film a reality also touches upon two of my three 2026 New Year resolutions: 

• learn video editing skills (on my list since 2022) and make a movie

• queer joy. 

This is a perfect example of Normand’s words: “everything happens for a reason.”

Overall, it was a wholesome time for me.

Laughter resonated.

Tears were shed.

Healing occurred.

The air felt warm and fuzzy like a sunset by the waterfront.

We were incredibly lucky with the weather -- despite Saint John's reputation for being notoriously foggy and rainy, our Saturday evening shot was sunny and pleasant. Plus, we were able to finish early every day.

Behind-the-scenes highlights

Despite Normand saying that he was completely transparent when I mentioned not having to answer every interview question, I was able to catch him off guard when inquiring about his hidden skills. Laughter was my only response.

Normand made us guess the shape of a hockey puck-shaped award, but for non-hockey fans like myself, I resonated when Juliet answered, after a pause: “I was afraid to say a circle and get it wrong.”

From filming a thong-shaped designer necklace to Chelsea’s fingerprint-erasure award rescue, to Steph showering everyone with compliments, to Juliet indulging me for every last minute emergency, to Cal being my extra pair of hands, I enjoyed every moment of the ride.

What do I wish funders knew

There is so much untapped talent out there. These people just need someone to believe in them, like Cat did for my film.

***

Normand, I is made possible thanks to the New Brunswick Filmmakers Co-operative’s Telling Our Stories grant. Many thanks to The Venetian, AREA 506 and Saint John High School for letting us film at their location.

Lost Along the Way - Part 2

By Karen Connor

The most devastating thing that happened to me was the summer before middle school. My parents bought a house in a different neighborhood, and I had to leave my childhood home. I moved away from my best friend, from all my adventures, from every place that felt familiar and safe. I felt lost. I didn’t know any kids in the new neighborhood, didn’t know the streets or where they led. It felt like my whole little world — my confidence, imagination, and sense of adventure — disappeared overnight.

My best friend was a year younger than me, so I couldn’t even see her at school that first year. I knew some kids from elementary school, but I had never been close to them. I had never let them see my full self. To cope with the loss, I convinced myself that everything I used to do was childish, and that it was time to grow up. I changed. I went numb. I became quieter.

One bright spot during those days was art class. Most assignments were simple, but when we started a drawing unit, something in me lit up. Other students said I was good, and that encouragement pushed me to draw my first portraits — two boys I had crushes on. I used their school photos as references, and for a 13‑year‑old, I thought I did a pretty good job. I asked my parents for a sketchbook and a set of pencils so I could keep drawing at home. I dabbled here and there, but I wasn’t serious about it yet.

Things eventually went downhill at middle school. Parents thought I was trouble, some teachers did too, and I never again had a best friend the way I once did. Puberty, boys, and the pressure of figuring out who I wanted to be collided with the reality that I was starting to get bullied. There wasn’t much room left for imagination. By Grade 9, my thoughts were consumed by my bullies. Fear took over, and I did things I never would have done before. I forgot the adventures I used to have with my best friend — it was as if they had never happened.

Neurodivergent people often feel things more intensely than others. What might seem small to someone else was absolutely crushing for me. Those days were dark, and I attempted to take my life.

But during the last month of middle school, something shifted. I started to get angry — angry at how I had been treated, and angry that I had given a few people so much power over me. On one of the final days of school, I stood up to my main bully. And I never attempted suicide again.

I was nervous about starting high school that fall, but I also knew the school was huge — around 3,000 students — and the chances of running into my former bullies were low. Still, the PTSD lingered.

Toward the end of high school and into my early university years, I didn’t draw at all. My schedule was full of science classes, and I didn’t feel like I had time. I wanted friends, fun, and freedom. It wasn’t until I walked into a poster sale at the University of New Brunswick that my interest in art reignited. I remember the room vividly — the colors, the shapes, the realism in some of the pieces. I felt drawn to them instantly.

That same year, I met a woman at the Fredericton market who was advertising art classes. I took lessons from her for four years. She taught drawing techniques and encouraged each student to bring whatever they wanted to work on. One day, she suggested I add color to my drawings and introduced me to watercolor. After a few pieces, I moved on to acrylics, where I found my stride.

I’ve been painting for over 20 years now. I’ve had art exhibits, sold originals, prints, and cards, and even ran my own website. I advertised my work on Facebook, took breaks here and there, built a career in biology, got married, and raised my children. It wasn’t until my youngest turned 14 that I finally felt like I could breathe again — like I had time to reflect and decide how I wanted to spend my free time.

My favorite pieces are the ones I spent countless hours on — the ones I made as realistic as possible, the ones I hyper‑focused on. Those are the pieces that feel the most like me.

An Interview with Gillian Salmon: Ghosts, Puppets, and Punchlines: Creating the Weird and Wonderful

By Karen Connor

1. You graduated from Second City’s Conservatory Program, what did you study there, what was your favorite subject and why?
   I started with Second City's writing programs in mid-2020 when I needed a creative outlet. From there, I learned about the Conservatory program, which I auditioned for, didn't get in, then took some online improv classes, auditioned again and got in.
   

   Second City's Conservatory program is basically an intensive of sketch comedy writing based on improv, and then workshopping to create a final show. So there were no specific "programs" or subjects, just one main focus. My favourite was workshopping ideas with my classmates into sketches, and punching things up with the support of the teacher and team. Since I did this on Zoom, I got to meet and work with people from all over the world, which was fantastic.
   

2. For those who may not know your work yet, can you tell us about your creative journey?
   Well, it all started when I was a young kid going to theatre camp, growing up with a father who painted sets and a mother who acted....
   In adulthood, I can sum it up with- took some improv classes in 2018/2019, loved 'em, started doing some writing, remembered how much I loved writing, started doing some stand-up comedy, and then 2020 hit. 

   
   Took the above Second City programs, and as part of Conservatory, we had some "what's next" chats. Auditions, head shots, getting yourself out there, networking etc... so, I reached out to Jean-Michel at Solo Chicken to see about assisting with some improv classes. I started submitting work (submitted some sketches to Notable Acts), auditioned for a feature film (Do I Know You From Somewhere?), and started performing with Dead Serious. I started writing more, and tried writing different styles (longer theatre pieces, screenplays), and repeat, and repeat, and repeat.

3. Can you describe sketch comedy writing and how that is brought to your audience. 
   Sketch comedy is basically short and scrappy little pieces- 5 minutes tops, fast moving, not a ton of need for backstory or character development. I love it because of that- it exists to be funny, you can explore a little bit and then you're done. There's nothing extra, there's no fluff. Think SNL, Kids in the Hall, Baroness von Sketch- these are all my faves to pull from or go back to. 

4. When you begin a new project, what does your creative process look like—from initial concept to final cut?
   I pull inspiration from just about everywhere, family, friends, experiences, things I see in the world, a normal thing that then has a twist, like taking your kid to the pediatrician to find out that he's clinically just a jerk, and that it's genetic. Sometimes I write out the beats, the points I want to hit and how it's going to end, sometimes I just start writing the sketch and will edit from there. Ideally I would do this with others (writing group, improvisers, etc) to see about punching up jokes and trimming stuff. Then I rewrite, rewrite, rewrite, and when it's either good enough or I've run out of time, submit!
   

5. Are there recurring themes or ideas that you find yourself returning to in your work? What draws you to them?
   The absurd and the paranormal. Both of my one acts for Notable Acts have had ghosts in them. I love a ghost, I love a cryptid, I love a character that lives kind of on the fringe (mimes, puppeteers, etc). 
   

6. Your writing has been featured at Notable Acts Theatre Festival, in 2022.  How did that feel and did that help your writing career?  
   It was weird and wonderful to hear my words performed. Always is. Because I also have a vision of how it's going to go in my head, but since I'm not directing it, the creative decisions are made by someone else, and another kind of magic happens. It was certainly surreal to see my sketch that I wrote about Q-Anon Yoga being performed on the green as the sun went down. Weird and wonderful. It made me want to do it more!! So I did! I wrote two more one-acts that were part of the 2023 and 2025 festivals. One of which I got to act in! 
   

7. What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as a writer in New Brunswick, and how did you navigate it?
   In the beginning, finding my people. Going from Second City where I had a contained group of improvisers and writers that I could work with to the Real World was a challenge at first. I navigated it by literally putting myself out there- asking people if I could assist with an improv class (Solo Chicken!), seeing people I wanted to work with in the future (taking their classes or workshops so they would get to know me as a writer), and connecting with the NB Film Coop when I moved into the world of film. Basically, finding someone that I wanted to work with and then figuring out how to get to know them.
   

8. How has being based in New Brunswick shaped your perspective as a storyteller?
   NB is weird and wonderful and has been my home for most of my life. There is inspiration everywhere. We have a lot of Lore here to draw from. We're small and we're scrappy, and we're resilient. I think that comes with having the highest tides in the world.
   

9. What role does collaboration with Dead Serious Comedy and community play in your creative process?
   Huge. It takes a village. Improv is a big source of inspiration for my writing, and a great way to see how something plays out. Community is so important- getting feedback, suggestions on improvement- these all make for better writing. Being part of a writing community also gives you the confidence to get weird with it, follow a thread, see what happens.
   

10. What are you currently working on, and what excites you most about this next phase of your work?
    I'm currently working on a second short mockumentary- this one is about puppeteers who are madly in love and then go through a messy breakup. I'm excited because I get to make some puppets, collaborate with new people, and hopefully bring a creative dream team together. I'd love to eventually make a feature length Christopher Guest-style mockumentary, so we'll see what the future brings!

Tracing the Light - Part 1

By Karen Connor

From the beginning

I was born neurodivergent.  With that came a lot of challenges but also some amazing characteristics.  I had a really hard time sitting still and sometimes I still do.  I always needed to have at least one of my legs going and the more excited or anxious I got, the faster my leg would shake. 

As you can imagine, concentration was also an issue when I found the topic uninteresting or when I got distracted my other kids in my class.  This got me in trouble sometimes and it didn’t help that I was a goof and loved to make my friends laugh.

Even though there are frustrations with some neurodivergent characteristics, there are a lot of characteristics that I am so happy to have.  My favorite neurodivergent superpowers are the ability to hyperfocus, being quick witted, being highly creative, and the ability to recall memories with great clarity.

Here is an example of what I mean by hyperfocus; When I was young and got overwhelmed or in trouble, I would go into my living room and sit on the floor.  On a sunny day, I would be mesmerized by how the sunlight shone through the front window, creating shadows on the curtains and by watching a beam of light sparkling as it touched all the way to the floor.  I would trace the lines of the different hues of color the sunlight created on the curtains with my eyes, following every curve.  Even though I didn’t know it at the time, that was my first experience with hyperfocus.  Doing this made me look for other things to “trace” with my eyes so one day I looked up and noticed we had a stucco ceiling, so I traced the peaks and valleys of the stucco with my eyes as well!  In an inner world where nothing ever sleeps, this was my way to slow down, through hyper focusing, even though I didn’t realize I was doing it.   This allowed me to tune out the world and calm my ever-flowing thoughts.

Another way I tapped into hyperfocus was by colouring and playing board games, I could play monopoly for hours.  My sister and I had lots of colouring books, and we both took a lot of pride in working hard to stay within the lines of the pictures we coloured.

Believe it or not, I could actually sit and watch tv, for a while.  My favorite shows were Woody Woodpecker and Bugs Bunny which always made me laugh.  Another show my sister and I watched was the Miss America Pageants, we also watched fashion shows with runway models.   I found myself in awe of the model's beauty, their makeup, their clothing, the attention they received and the emotions evoked in both the winners and those who did not win.  

I loved music as well and was highly influenced by Madonna and Cindy Lauper.  I even tried tapping myself singing, with a tape recorder.  Unfortunately, at the time, I didn’t like the sound of my recorded voice, so I didn’t sing in front of people for a very long time after that.

Bringing the energy up a notch

The rest of my time, about 90% of it, was spent in a high energy state (hyper mode).  What did that look like?  Endless energy, ideas, desire for excitement, no fear, always challenging myself for more.

Gymnastics, swimming, doing tricks off a diving board, track and dancing were my things.  With endless amounts of energy, I had to find ways to get it out or I would go crazy because as a kid, I didn’t know how to properly handle it, and I would make my poor family crazy too.  Again, even though I didn’t know I was doing it, I found ways to cope and let out my energy.  One of my favorite things to do was to make an adventure out of daily trips to the general store.  I couldn’t walk on the sidewalk, like normal people, I had to sneak through people’s backyards, climb over fences and remain unseen, pretending I was being sought after by bad guys.

Following along that theme, I never took the easy route either.  I always wanted to explore, take the road less traveled, walk through the hole in the fence, go through the woods and walk down the path that led to somewhere unknown.  It excited me to know that no one really knew where I was and thankfully my best friend was happy to follow me and do whatever my mind dreamed up. 

For a while, I even had the younger neighborhood kids coming to my best friend’s house to hear made up stories.  We got 0.10 cents per kid, and I would be the storyteller.  I either asked kids to give me some ideas and I would go from there (improv) or I had to quickly think on my toes because there was no way a young kid was going to be able to plan a story to tell in advance, at least not this neurodivergent kid.

Another thing I loved to do was to explore people’s houses.  I always got excited, hoping I would find a secret passageway or a secret room.

The last big thing that influenced my childhood greatly was my introduction to horror movies.  In the 80’s, my uncle was one of few people that had a satellite dish and a recording device to record the movies on.  He couldn’t wait to bring me a new tape with at least 3 movies on it.

I also loved fantasy and superhero movies, wished unicorns were real and that some people had superpowers…

From Stage to Screen: A Late-Blooming Filmmaker’s Journey

By Karen Connor
Photo by Sakura Blue Studios

What inspired you as a little girl to want to entertain your family members as Cher?

Tammy: Cher has always been one of my idols. At the time, The Sony and Cher show was dominating the ratings, and everyone knew who they were. Cher's persona captivated me and I wanted to be just like her. She inspired me to be creative and use my overactive imagination. I was always running around with a recorder interviewing family or cutting out boxes to make it a TV then doing the news or writing stories. I loved watching movies as a kid as it let me dream of what I could do.

 You spent 10 years in theatre working as a stage manager, what is involved in being a stage manager?

Tammy: To me, stage manager is very similar to being a film director. A stage manager manages the technical and design departments, including props, costume, lighting, sound and many more. They attend every rehearsal keeping track of the actor's movements and what the director wants added or deleted. At the actual show, they call the cues during the performance. Only difference is you can't call cut!

 What inspired you to move from theatre to film?  

Tammy: Life gets busy with kids and work, so I just didn't go back to theatre. It was late in my life when I had found an old story I wrote and decided to turn it into a script. To my surprise, I won the Jane Leblanc Filmmaker award. That is what started it all. I was hooked!

 What has been your greatest obstacle and your greatest achievement in film thus far?

Tammy: Where I have only been at this for a few years, my lack of knowledge would be my greatest obstacle. There is so much to learn about film, but I have a passion for learning, so I just soak it all in. The greatest achievement is being surrounded by great people. Having knowledgeable people on set to help my vision come to life is very comforting. The incredible people that have helped me along the way blows my mind. That they have the same passion and the creativity to make it all come together is amazing. I cannot thank them enough.

How did it feel to win an award with your first script, a Little Light.

Tammy: When I won my first award, I was stunned! I couldn't believe that I won. Me? I won? At first, I doubted myself and wondered if I could do it, but the great people at the NBFC gave me confidence that I could. I’m still stunned whenever I win!

When you begin a new project, what does your creative process look like—from initial concept to final cut?

Tammy: When I write a script, I picture it in my head. I picture how I want each scene to be shot. The movement, actions and emotions are all played out in my head. I will then try to translate those into a shot list. The script is rewritten several times to improve the shots because sometimes it just won’t work. When the casting call is sent out, I try to pick someone that embodies the part and how I want it portrayed. Storyboards are a big help to me. I look forward to working with the DOP as their ideas are so great. They give me a lot of inspiration. When it's all put together, I am so proud of what a great job everyone has done. It is so amazing.

 Are there recurring themes or ideas that you find yourself returning to in your work? What draws you to them?

Tammy: The last few films have made people cry.  I am drawn to drama as I have found a way to capture and share the unique stories and experiences of people. My good friend gave me ideas for the last 2 scripts. I want to create thought-provoking and visually captivating pieces that resonate with the audience. I hope in the future to do a comedy, actually.

What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as a director in New Brunswick, and how did you navigate it?

Tammy: I really haven’t had a big challenge yet as I have great neighbours that allow me to create in their space and the helpful staff at NBFC who are always there to lend a hand. Whoever I work with has always guided me through. I love collaborating with creative minds. The only thing I am finding hard is securing locations, but with faith, it always turns out. Cat LeBlanc is my extraordinary go to at the NBFC. She is always willing to answer my questions and her knowledge is incredible. My obstacles are always overcome after a chat with Cat.

What are you currently on and what excites you most about your work?

Tammy: I am currently in pre-production with my fourth short film. It contains sensitive subject matter so it might be a challenge to tell the essence of the experience. But awareness can be drawn to the subject, which is important. I hope to not only entertain but also shed light on stories that make up our world. For me, it’s exciting to watch my stories come to life, to see the thoughts in my head up on screen. While on set there is a satisfying feeling as you watch actors perform those characters you created from your script. It’s all very exciting from the start to the finish.

What advice would you give to someone who is just starting their filmmaking career?

Tammy: My advice would be to not be afraid and just go for it. I started this film journey late in life and even with 58 years of experience in life, I was still so nervous. Google was used a lot from the beginning to research how to make a shot list and different camera shots/angles. I would tell a person that you will learn along the way, mistakes will be made but there is so much to learn with film. Lastly, take advice from experienced people and try to surround yourself with them. So, just get out there and just get started!

Empowering Women, One Film at a Time: A Conversation With Amy Stewart

By Jia Yi Fan

Can you tell us about how you transitioned into film?

I graduated from the Photography and Visual Arts program at the New Brunswick College of Craft and Design and worked with negative film, so I had technical skills in stills photography. Fast forward about 20 years, I realised that being a photographer was relevant to being a director. Having to shoot a wedding while being pregnant with my second child was a wake-up call to take the next step in my career, to find something else to cure my “creative itch” and to allow me to share more real stories. When COVID hit, I felt isolated.

 An opportunity came knocking and allowed me to be a production coordinator on a NB Tourism shoot, which was my first official film role. I learned a lot about what production can be. Then, I was hired at Hemmings House as a full-time producer.

In short, I came into film because it allowed me to combine all of my interests and training (music and photography) into one medium.

 What was it like to work in corporate media?

 It was a great learning experience and training ground. Working for clients can be brutal – you have to align your products to client needs, so you need to engage in a lot of communication. The work is very technical, but you still have room to express creativity. For big corporate productions, the stakes are high, so you need to have an irreproachable team who plays by the rules and avoids any surprises. In the end, you are making something dictated by someone else rather than something coming from your own soul.

 Working in corporate media for so long has allowed me to fund my personal film projects and flex my technical muscles.

 What is your current involvement in and outside of film?

 I have my own film company (ASProductions Inc.) where I make films for other people. But most of my current film-making is about my own projects. I get contracts from time to time because I am one of a handful of production contractors known in Saint John. I now gravitate toward making films with friends.

 I am also a part-time communications manager for a women-run non-profit helping women with addiction and rehabilitation.

 Have you encountered any obstacles in film-making?

 I had to get over my own insecurities / the imposter's syndrome as I lack a formal education in that field as opposed to photography and music.

 What challenges did you encounter with documentary-making?

 As opposed to narratives, which are sometimes more straightforward in the editing phase, documentaries are more like following a puck – you don’t know where it’s going to go. A storyline can pivot as you reveal more information through interviewing and research.

 I am working on a documentary about an artist-run studio/jam space that closed down after around 20 years of existence. The announcement came a month prior to the closure. On top of that, I had another 6-month, 14h/day job lined up at the end of that month. Needless to say, I was time-constrained, but I had a general idea of what to ask people. So that is why I am writing my film now after having already shot my footage.

 Another challenge and lesson with that project was the lack of female interviewees, which is a broader reflection of the male-dominated music and film industries. But we ensured to capture these voices and how their surroundings welcomed their impact.

 What inspired you to get involved in diversity and inclusion initiatives in film? Do you feel that the landscape has changed over time?

 Because of the aforementioned lack of diversity in the music and film industries, I didn’t feel comfortable making my own music even though I was a trained musician. That feeling followed me in film-making. Now that I am a parent of two daughters, I feel that showing up for other women and enabling them to learn and grow are particularly important.

 The landscape has improved, but being away from home for long periods of time and working insane hours are still barriers for women with young kids. I’ve had to turn down opportunities. I often wonder if I would have a better film career if I lived in a different province, but I still think those barriers would be present.

 Any advice for aspiring or emerging filmmakers?

 The best art is made when you’re not scared of saying what you want to say. Put yourself out there.

 Also, a lot of building your film business is based on networking rather than having a website for example. That entails inviting people for coffee, participating in industry events and being on boards. Keep your ear on the ground, see what other local filmmakers are working on and help each other out.

 What are the biggest challenges in your work?

 I think that to work in film, you should embrace change and pivoting. Even if you put a lot of effort into planning, unexpected things can happen on shooting day that will throw all your plans out the window.

 What are common pitfalls in film?

 In my last short film, I struggled to make it short enough while still getting my point across. In one scene, I only shot with one camera and perspective, thinking that having another one wouldn’t be realistic. But when I put everything together in editing, I realised that the scene was too lengthy, so I had to cut some dialogue to allow a good flow. There’s always creative ways around problems.

 What is your advice for filming on a cellphone?

 They are great! Cellphones have come a long way and quality is surprisingly high. The only thing you need to watch out for is poor sound quality, but you can work around that using an external recorder, such as a cheap mic. You can get a gimbal stabilizer to move your phone more steadily.

 What is the film industry like in New Brunswick?

Unfortunately, NB is so far behind and few people come here to film. It is not an attractive place for film-making as the tax credits here are one of the lowest in the country, but there is a lot of untapped potential and amazing locations. In short films, there is opportunity to learn and try out new roles even if you don’t feel fully qualified for them.

Inside the Creative Process: A Conversation with Filmmaker Jillian Acreman

By Jeff Cook

This week I had the privilege to ask award-winning filmmaker and NB Film Co-op President, Jillian Acreman, a few questions. In preparation for the interview I watched two films, written and directed by Jillian. I felt genuinely inspired as I watched “Marigolds” and “Queen of the Andes,” both Silver Wave Film Festival Viewer’s Choice Award winners. In the interview I set out to glean as much as possible about Jillian’s process to apply in my own creative practice.

Jeff: You’ve been prolific and decorated in the New Brunswick film community since 2009 as both an assistant director and director. You’ve also done tons of peripheral work in producing, writing and even as a dolly grip. How do you decide to split your time between collaborations and being a director for your own work?

Jillian: I joined the co-op because I wanted to make my own films, but I've also always leaned into the cooperative structure of the organization. I value volunteerism a great deal, and I try to still volunteer on at least one project a year. A lot of people showed up to help me when I was getting started, and I like maintaining that part of the practice. These days I mostly AD because it aligns with my strengths, but I've had periods where I craved just being given a call time, showing up, and doing the job. There was one summer I gripped/dolly gripped on everything and it was awesome. I was always interested in production design on my own projects, but I've become more curious about designing for others the past few years. I love filmmaking, but ultimately I just like meeting and working with newer filmmakers, and then of course making movies with my friends.

Jeff: Something I noticed in both Marigolds and Queen of the Andes is the use of flowers for set design. When I watched the films they also enhanced the narrative experience, sometimes with absurdity or by driving home the depth of a moment between characters. What is your philosophy and intention behind the use of natural imagery and themes?

Jillian: The flowers in these two projects served distinct functions, but both were predicated on the fact that flowers photograph well. In Marigolds my character was a botanist who spent his life making things grow. This juxtaposed his own infertility, setting him on his unusual quest to find an alternative legacy. In Queen of the Andes, the flowers were intended to thematically mirror Pillar's arc: Beautiful, idealized, and plucked from their natural environments and popped into glass vases for decoration while slowly decaying. The film visually bookends Pillar behind glass which was my way of closing this circle.

Jeff: You skillfully curate New Brunswick bands, locations, lore, and imagery for your work. Is this hyper-locality a deliberate choice and do you ever worry about this affecting the broader accessibility of the film for audiences outside of New Brunswick?

Jillian: I don't worry about it affecting the broader accessibility of the films, though admittedly this isn't one of my areas of strength either. It's definitely a deliberate choice though. It gives the work more depth, for me anyway. Stories are universal, but I like the idea that visually, this movie could have only been made HERE, because it's all our stuff. Someone once told me "you are going to watch your films more than anyone else in the world. Make the movies you want to make", and so I do.  

Jeff: I’m brand new to viewing a lot of local films but, to me, your shots have a distinct polish in composition, color correcting, cut length, ect. This isn’t something I’m used to seeing in my routine YouTube or short-form vertical viewing. How much of your process is associated with making choices that lead to this “vibe?” Are there particular things you do in order to achieve this through a film consistently?

Jillian: I'd say this is nearly all of my process. I think composition is the ballgame, and I'm always interested in how I can use the frame to double down on storytelling. If the story is about someone becoming isolated from people, how can I use the frame to do this? I can start wide and let them share the frame with loved ones, and gradually tighten up until I'm forced to cut back and forth. Eventually maybe they're separated by phones or glass or walls, but I definitely want the arc of my themes to come visually as well as through the plot. In terms of consistency I love a good plan and follow through, I don't improvise a lot (and when I do, it tends to show in a negative way). I can absolutely find something in the moment or on the day that I didn't anticipate, but I value being able to know immediately how this will fit within the larger scope of the project. This is how I am with films, but I've also done several music videos which have taught me SO MUCH about play.

Visually, I always consider how to build colour and texture into sets and costumes, but I also work with people who know me and what I'm going for, and they're good at what they do. In terms of the rhythm of a film I just listen to what the scene needs. I like fast, frenetic editing and I also love slow, patient films. I think the rhythm of a film needs to match the character's experience.

Jeff: Your stories have a really satisfying progression. I’m a big Joseph Campbell “monomyth” fan and Queen of the Andes scratched that itch in a way no film has for me in years. I was obsessed with your subversion of a happy ending. Is your storytelling process formulaic or do you use different tools to structure and execute a narrative?

Jillian: This is a hard question! As a document and blueprint, I definitely try to structure my feature scripts in the classic, industry standard way. As a storyteller I'm usually just working through my own noise, trying to unpack whatever experiences I'm having at a given moment in my life, so the endings are most often what I find, rather than something I'm trying to build. I'm not looking for a happy ending, I'm looking for an answer.

Jeff: As a musician, a lot of my work happens in isolation. What would your advice be for a creative in New Brunswick, like me, who wants their product to keep paying the bills but also incorporate the local community in a more connective and social way? 

Jillian: I might be the wrong person to ask! Film is a creative practice for me, but I also teach at NBCCD and I love that life as well. Filmmaking doesn't pay my bills, though it does help. But I'm drawn to the life and the work more than anything. I think there's so much space for other artists to connect and collaborate together. If you're a musician, make music videos with filmmakers, make album art with designers or painters, pitch your music for events or installations. So much of my work also happens in isolation (grants, scripts, editing) but there's this incredible burst of energy in the middle when I get to just make the movie with my friends. And then there's a similar burst of energy when my friends make films and I get to show up and help them. It's the most collaborative medium, and it's awesome.

Chasing the Unattainable: On Craft, Courage, and the Creative Life

By Jeff Cook

Interviewee: Brenda Malley

Introduction

Brenda mentioned multiple times during our interview that she took a “comfortable path” to artistry. My impression was different. Every story she told about her filmmaking career included bravery, resourcefulness, adaptability, perseverance and creativity. It was reassuring to see my philosophies reflected in hers. We’re both endlessly critical about our own output, constantly iterating toward some unattainable ideal. We both find as much or more meaning in the craft and journey as we do in the product.

Act 1

Brenda was ready for a new chapter as soon as her long career at the New Brunswick Department of Justice and Public Safety ended but wasn’t sure where that chapter would take her. In the first of what would be many serendipitous turns, a long-time friend and Vancouver Film School pupil began to regale Brenda with tales from the world of film.

This inspired Brenda to search for her new beginning by reaching out to Cat LeBlanc, the Member Services Director of the NB Film Co-op, who helped Brenda become a volunteer. Brenda says “everything that they had to offer, I took” as she began to get acquainted with filmmakers, technicians and affiliates in the NB filmmaking community. Meanwhile, Brenda had been writing. She said “I don’t want to finish writing [a script] and just leave it in the drawer. I wanted to see it on film.” Brenda recalls writing for the courts being a formative, transferable skill from her earlier career in this period: “I wrote thousands of reports for the courts. They are stories. You have to tell the entire narrative.”

During her early volunteer experiences at the Co-op Brenda was fortunate to have Brittany Sparrow as the Assistant Director on her first film “After the War.” She was shocked at the interest and turnout for auditions. “After the War” won four awards at the Silver Wave Film Festival in 2019. The awards themselves were flattering but Brenda was more motivated by the way they inspired others like her, in their fifties, to pursue their own creativity.

Act 2

Serendipity was a recurring theme in the development of Brenda’s current catalogue and her prolific output is exactly what enabled her to take full advantage of any exciting offers to collaborate. For example: she wrote The Town Clown in just three weeks during the unpredictable end of COVID-19 lockdowns and was able to secure a contractual arrangement with Bell TV. She says ”It’s networking. Always making sure that everything is a possibility or opportunity.”

Her film “Chuppah” is a great example of this. She submitted the script to the International Film Festival the Hague on a whim and received an award. To her surprise, the director of the festival reached out with an offer to collaborate. In the end, she decided to produce the script herself. She eventually submitted the produced version of Chuppah to the International Film Festival the Hague : “I won, and we [Brenda and Gary Weekes, her Director of Photography] had a ball. It was like a fantasy!” That festival connection also resulted in Brenda becoming an international juror for the past three years. She says the process is “informative, but can be overwhelming” as she’s watched over 200 films in a single year during the judging process. This festival is one of many ways she has built a network of academic and creative collaborators including a Professor from Sheffield, England, Dr. James Fitzmurice, who she is now working with on “The Cavendish Discovery of Witchcraft,” a short film currently in post production. It will be debuted at the International Cavendish Society that will be holding their biennial meeting scheduled for June 2026 at the University of New Brunswick in Fredericton.

Connections like these are only one type of serendipity that bring Brenda new creative threads to explore. Unlike the Hague’s festival director reaching out to her, Brenda met songwriter Robert Thomas by trying to obtain sync rights for a song for her recently completed, feature documentary film about the Escuminac Disaster. Brenda recalls Robert being inspired by Chuppah, that “a light went on” for him about stories “not having to be linear.” Brenda then went on to script and direct Robert’s most recent music video, “The Way We Roll” which has had a very favorable festival run to date.

Curtains

With collaborations appearing from both inbound and outbound requests, Brenda has plenty to work on but having a big workload isn’t her intention. In terms of her workload, she only wants to “always have one project that takes [her] to a film festival.” It’s her passion that drives this endeavor and not the potential monetary reward. She says “I’m sticking to what brings me joy. I don’t care if I ever make any money.” This allows her to fund, pursue and work on the projects as best serves her vision and the effort and investment of the cast and crew. She cites the NB Film Co-op as the critical glue and foundation that allows all of these goals to be achieved in tandem, while helping her continue to participate in a creative and welcoming community.

Brenda cites her age as the source of her urgency. She says “I’m 65 years old... I just plow through because I don’t know how long I have and I’m going to put out as many things as I can.” Brenda uses posters to materialize a script into a visual idea before putting the film into production. She has a room full of these posters that she calls her “Happy Room.” In here she can find motivation, imagining how the poster and script will blossom into a finished film.

Her advice to other creators reflects her own experience. She says about her life before getting involved in filmmaking “I had faith in myself to know that everything was going to be okay.” She says to recognize your agency over your career and life. When opportunities present themselves, our impression and interpretation of them is what controls their result. We write our own narrative and so, when wondrous opportunities present themselves, it’s right to pursue them to wondrous ends.

Create Boldly, Support Authentically: A Conversation with Rebecca Carrigan

By Tyler Hanley

1. For those who may not know your work yet, can you tell us about your creative journey and what led you to found Sakura Blue Studios?

My creative journey began in childhood. My parents encouraged both artistic exploration and athletic pursuits, enrolling my brother and me in a wide range of creative workshops. I immersed myself in everything from visual arts and creative writing to photography and adventure programs. I also studied piano through the Royal Conservatory of Music for 18 years and played on the Ontario Women's Softball team, which instilled in me a deep discipline and appreciation for storytelling through sound and teamwork. From an early age, I was constantly behind a camera — photographing family and friends and creating little films and shows. In high school, I performed in musical theatre productions, trained in singing, and later pursued a film acting course in college. After graduation, I worked with Carnival Cruise Lines as a Youth Counsellor, where I created activities, games, and live entertainment for guests from all around the world. That experience solidified my desire to pursue acting professionally — specifically for film and television.

I was originally accepted into a competitive acting program in Los Angeles, but ultimately chose to study in Canada at the Vancouver Academy of Dramatic Arts. The academy specialized in film and television training, and our instructors were actively working in the industry, which gave us invaluable real-world insight and connections. We also had the opportunity to train with visiting professionals from Los Angeles and participate in casting director workshops — experiences that were instrumental in shaping my career. Following acting school, I quickly moved into voice work for animation and video games — a field I still love. However, when I self-published my first novel and later adapted it into a feature film that went on to win at the Canadian International Film Festival, I realized I wanted to expand beyond performance into creation and production. This ultimately led me to get my diploma in Graphic Design & Interactive Media, and recently, my Editor in Publishing certificate.

Over the years, I worked as a Production Coordinator for major companies, including Sony Pictures and Electronic Arts, to name a few, gaining extensive behind-the-scenes experience. Eventually, I felt called to step back and focus on building my own creative projects. I was teaching workshops, producing headshots, writing books, and developing films — and I knew I wanted to dedicate myself fully to that vision. In 2022, I relocated to Lincoln, New Brunswick, and officially launched Sakura Blue Studios. My goal was to create a space where emerging artists could access professional training, creative services, and mentorship rooted in real industry experience. I’m passionate about helping others grow, and I believe there is tremendous creative potential here. Sakura Blue Studios is still evolving, but the foundation is strong — and the vision for the next few years is ambitious and exciting.

2. The name “Sakura Blue Studios” is distinctive—what’s the story behind it, and what does it represent creatively?

The name Sakura Blue Studios is deeply personal. I’ve had a lifelong admiration for Japanese culture, particularly the symbolism of the cherry blossom — or sakura tree. As a child, I was captivated by the imagery of falling cherry blossom petals in anime, especially in Sailor Moon. As I grew older, I learned that in Japan, the cherry blossom represents the fleeting nature of life — beautiful, powerful, and brief. That symbolism stayed with me. To me, sakura represents the importance of creating boldly and living intentionally. Life is short, and we should pursue what inspires us while we have the chance. The “Blue” in Sakura Blue reflects the values I want my company to embody. In design and colour psychology, blue represents trust, loyalty, stability, and integrity. I wanted the name to communicate not only creativity and beauty, but also professionalism and reliability. Relationships are at the heart of everything I do — whether mentoring actors, collaborating with creatives, or working with clients. Sakura Blue Studios is a multimedia company encompassing publishing, design, photography, film, and special events. At its core, it represents both artistry and trust — a space where creativity is nurtured, and where artists can feel supported, challenged, and inspired to make the most of their time and talent.

3. How would you describe the core mission or artistic vision that guides your studio’s projects?

The core mission of Sakura Blue Studios is to create meaningful, emotionally resonant work while empowering emerging artists with professional-level tools, training, and opportunities. At its heart, the studio exists to bridge artistry and industry. I believe creativity should be both inspired and sustainable — grounded in passion, but executed with excellence. Every project we take on, whether it’s a film, a book, a photography session, a workshop, or a live event, is guided by intentional storytelling, strong visual identity, and emotional truth. Artistically, I’m drawn to stories that explore resilience, identity, human connection, and transformation. I want our projects to leave an impact — to make audiences feel something lasting. Whether through supernatural thrillers, heartfelt dramas, or imaginative fantasy, the goal is always the same: create work that resonates on a deeper level. Equally important is mentorship and accessibility. Coming from an industry background that can often feel exclusive or intimidating, I wanted Sakura Blue Studios to become a place where emerging talent feels supported rather than overwhelmed. We prioritize professionalism, integrity, and honest feedback — creating an environment where artists can grow confidently.

Ultimately, the studio is built on two guiding principles:

• Create boldly.

• Support authentically.

Sakura Blue Studios exists to honour the fleeting nature of time — like the sakura blossom — by encouraging artists to pursue their craft fully, and to do so in a space built on trust, collaboration, and artistic courage.

4. When you begin a new project, what does your creative process look like—from initial concept to final cut?

I always begin with the full picture. Before diving into details, I step back and ask: What is the end goal? Who is this for? What do I want the audience to feel, think, or walk away with? I reverse-engineer from that point. Understanding the audience and the emotional impact I want to create shapes every creative and practical decision that follows. From there, I explore the unexpected. I’m naturally drawn to out-of-the-box ideas — concepts that push slightly beyond what feels safe or familiar. I look for angles that might differentiate the project, attract new audiences, or present the material in a way that feels fresh. At the same time, I’m very aware of how audiences consume art across different platforms and formats. I’ve always had a strong instinct for understanding how people engage with story, visuals, and performance. So my process is a balance: part visionary risk-taker, part grounded strategist. I allow space for bold creative choices, but I also build them within a framework of realism — budget, market, tone, pacing, and long-term sustainability. Every decision serves the larger vision. Even when a choice might seem unconventional on the surface, it’s usually tied to a bigger strategic picture. There have been times when collaborators or audiences didn’t immediately understand the direction I was taking — and that’s okay. I believe that sometimes you don’t explain the vision; you execute it. When people see the finished work in its entirety, the intention becomes clear. From concept to final cut, my process is intentional, emotionally driven, and audience-aware — but never afraid to take creative risks when the story calls for it.

5. Are there recurring themes or ideas that you find yourself returning to in your work? What draws you to them?

I’m consistently drawn to emotionally driven storytelling — whether I’m writing a novel or developing a film. Character arcs are incredibly important to me. I love exploring transformation: redemption, resilience, and love that endures against overwhelming odds. There’s something powerful about watching a character break, rebuild, and ultimately rise — especially when love is the catalyst. At the same time, I’m equally interested in creating work that challenges audiences. I don’t shy away from discomfort. I think art has a responsibility not only to entertain, but to provoke thought. Sometimes that means presenting morally complex characters, unsettling themes, or emotional tension that forces viewers and readers to question their own perspectives. I tend to gravitate toward fictional worlds — particularly those with supernatural elements — because they allow us to explore very real human truths through heightened circumstances. The supernatural, for me, isn’t about spectacle; it’s about metaphor. It becomes a lens to examine grief, destiny, sacrifice, faith, identity, and the unseen forces that shape us. And at the core of almost everything I create, there is love. Not always the easy kind — but the kind that costs something. The kind that transforms. Occasionally, real-life stories will move me enough to pursue them, but even then, I approach them through an emotional lens. Ultimately, I’m drawn to stories that leave an impact — the kind that linger long after the final page or the closing credits.

6. What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as a filmmaker and studio founder in New Brunswick, and how did you navigate it?

One of the biggest challenges has been adapting to the structure of the industry here in New Brunswick. Compared to larger markets like Ontario or British Columbia, the community is smaller and more close-knit, which can make it more challenging to build new professional relationships and expand collaborative circles. In larger cities, there’s often a strong culture of networking and cross-collaboration — creatives regularly attend each other’s events, meet to exchange ideas, and actively broaden their professional networks. Here, collaboration can sometimes remain within established groups. While strong, loyal working relationships are valuable, I believe the industry grows strongest when it remains open to new voices and connections. Another area I’ve focused on is professional training — particularly for actors pursuing film and television. Acting for camera is very different from theatre performance and requires specific technical skills that should be taught by working industry professionals. Understanding camera framing, subtlety, continuity, on-set etiquette, and professional standards is essential for actors who want to compete beyond their local market. Through workshops, one-on-one training and mentorship, I’m working to help bridge that gap in a supportive and constructive way. Ultimately, I’ve navigated these challenges by leading through example — creating high-standard projects, offering professional training, and continuing to build relationships with openness and integrity. I’m committed to contributing to the long-term growth and professionalism of the industry here. Actors can live here comfortably and still create a strong career—and even help the industry grow while also travelling to projects outside of NB. But that skill needs proper knowledge, drive and guidance to achieve.

7. How has being based in New Brunswick shaped your perspective as a storyteller?

Being based in New Brunswick has grounded my storytelling in authenticity and resilience. The pace here allows for reflection, deeper character development, and a stronger connection to community — all of which influence the emotional depth of my work. At the same time, working in a smaller market has strengthened my resourcefulness. It’s taught me to think creatively with budgets, locations, and talent, and to focus on story first. Ultimately, being here has reinforced my belief that powerful stories aren’t defined by geography — they’re defined by heart, intention, and execution.

8. What role do collaboration and community play in your creative process?

Collaboration is essential to my creative process. While every project begins with a clear vision, it becomes stronger through the perspectives, skills, and instincts of the people involved. Film and publishing are never solo art forms — they thrive on shared creativity. Community plays an equally important role. I believe in creating spaces where artists feel supported, challenged, and respected. When people feel safe to contribute ideas and take creative risks, the work deepens. For me, collaboration isn’t just about dividing tasks — it’s about building trust, raising standards together, and creating something none of us could have achieved alone.

9.  What are you currently working on, and what excites you most about this next phase of your work?

Right now, I’m focused on expanding both my creative projects and community initiatives. One of the most exciting developments is the Writers of the Realm Literary Festival & Fantasy Ball, which is designed to bring authors, writers, and creatives together in a way that elevates storytelling within our province. With my industry background, I’m passionate about creating an event that not only celebrates imagination but also provides professional insight, networking opportunities, and inspiration for emerging artists.

I’m also currently writing a new novel that has the potential to grow into another trilogy. Returning to long-form storytelling always excites me — it’s where I can fully immerse myself in character arcs, world-building, and emotional depth. This next phase feels expansive: building community while continuing to grow my own creative universe.

10. For emerging filmmakers in the province, what advice would you offer as they begin building their own creative path?

Be open to people, to opportunities, and to growth. Make the effort to introduce yourself. Attend events. Support other creators by showing up to their screenings, workshops, and launches. Make time for each other. Relationships in this industry matter, and they’re built through genuine connection and consistent presence. Advancing your career will require sacrifice — adjusting your schedule, stepping outside your comfort zone, and sometimes investing time before you see results. But every event you attend and every collaboration you pursue teaches you something new and strengthens your network. Stay curious, stay professional, and actively put yourself in the room. That’s where momentum begins.

At the heart of everything I do — whether creating stories, mentoring artists, or building community events — is a simple belief: the more we show up, take creative risks, and support each other, the more powerful our work becomes. For me, the next chapter isn’t just about the projects themselves — it’s about helping others find their voice, tell their stories, and make an impact that lasts.

You can find Rebecca Carrigan (author Becca Blue) on any of the following platforms: 

Company: FB: @sakurabluestudio  | www.sakurabluestudios.ca

Author Pages: FB: @beccablueauthor   |  Instagram: @beccabluegirl  |  TikTok: @authorbeccablue 

Festival: FB: @writersoftherealmfestival   | Instagram: @writersoftherealmfantasyball

Say Yes and Go Off-script: Steph Savage’s Film-making Journey

By Jia Yi Fan

Can you tell us about your background and how you got into film?

I grew up in Northeastern Ontario, then moved to London, ON, for school and work, then moved to Toronto, where I lived for years. There, I got into film through my background in improvisation, which I did on the side. 

When my partner and I started looking at buying a house, we looked eastward and fell in love with St John, NB. When I first moved here, I started doing stand-up comedy and got introduced to a lot of people in the run & gun industry. I eventually connected with Mariel Hunter and her acting collective. She recommended me for a job on Revival, a series shot locally. At the same time, someone else from the NB Co-op approached me for a job as a Location Manager.

What do you do outside of film?

In addition to Savage Media Inc., which deals with my “fun stuff,” I am also a yoga therapist (Savage Yoga Inc.), as well as bed & breakfast owner and manager (Cozy Cottage Inn).

I am working on a fringe show about time and AI.

As well, I am studying psychology and hope to complete more advanced degrees.

What do you like about filming in NB

People are so nice and I have been able to do so much. There’s an incredible amount of talent, but unfortunately, it doesn’t get celebrated enough.

Why is storytelling so important for your work?

Stories make up everything around us. We tell stories from the day we are able to imagine to the day we die.

Where do you get inspiration or ideas for projects?

They come from my time spent in nature or from vivid dreams, which I write down in my notes app after waking up. I literally have hundreds of potential ideas. I also get inspired from being around other creative people and bouncing ideas around with them. I am craving to learn from people with widely different life experiences than my own.

What is your favorite project that you've ever worked on?

The Tuna Man Always Rings Twice is my favorite episode I worked on from the series Hard Times in the Maritimes. I was part of a ragtag crew and in a cis-heteronormative environment, but I had lots of fun and learning opportunities.

Any achievements you're proud of?

My achievement is less so about a specific film I produced but rather just being able to live my film dreams since I moved here. I’m proud of my bravery to say yes to everything (credits to Colin Mochrie). This mindset allowed me to do so much.

Did you intend to be a film generalist or did you want to try a bit of everything before honing in on a specific skill? 

I didn’t intend to be a generalist. I just wanted to try everything I was interested in and I have been very lucky and privileged to have had the opportunity to do so. At the end of the day, my passions lie in sound and cinematography, which are also what I pay most attention to when I’m watching the media.

Any advice for aspiring or emerging filmmakers?

Try everything, say yes, and be brave! Also, you can tell any story you want. Don't let other people dictate what you can do.

Most enlightening advice you've received?

Go off-script. I actually got this from a yoga instructor.

What did you wish you knew before diving into film-making?

Working in corporate media can be soul-sucking, but also magical. When I started, I felt that everything was amazing, but I realised that you are beholden to shareholders, investors and studios. You don’t have the creative freedom of independent productions. It is more a job than a creative outlet.

What are your favorite things about being a filmmaker?

I like the camaraderie and fun experienced throughout the entire process.

What are the biggest challenges in your work?

Being heard. I have been on countless sets where a cis man voicing the same thing I did would be heard but not when I talked. And I consider myself as having an incredible amount of privilege. I can’t imagine what it is like for other people with more intersectional identities.

Rapid fire questions

What kind of films would you like to work on?

Untold stories, like Will & Harper.

Favorite themes and genres?

Comedy, horror, drama and real stories/documentaries

Favorite movie or show?

My favorite movie is Hot Fuzz and my favorite show is Star Trek: The Next Generation.

If you could work with anybody (including celebrities), who would it be?

Morgan Freeman and Whoopi Goldberg.

Any hidden talents?

I can sing opera. I actually did an operetta a few years ago.