I first met John Clay ducking, diving and weaving with a small handheld video camera at the front of gigs in London’s grassroots venues as I jostled around speakers, mic stands and the elbows of the front row for the best angle for my photographs. We seemed to always be at the same shows, particularly those put on by the much missed Roadkill Records team, and got chatting. Since then, as well as posting the occasional intriguing interview on Joyzine, he has filmed live sessions at Brixton Hill Studios and Hermitage Works, directed a slew of fantastic music videos for Joyzine faves including Shattercones, Stash Magnetic and Healthy Junkies and fronted existential party punk band Colossus.
Most recently he’s directed a feature-length arthouse sci-fi odyssey Voodoonaut, which was released at the end of December and poses the question “Has your imagination been colonised?”. It was created with bandmate Rob Homewood, members of bands including Starsha Lee, A Void and Aloha Dead and many more wonderfully talented people. We first caught up with John about the film during its successful GoFundMe campaign and with the film now available to watch online, we bring you a conversation about Voodoonaut between John Clay, associate producer/sound mixer Rob Homewood and actors Hazel Turnock (Judith Marie Earle), Ola Kitchen (Ops), Lars Chittka (The Mystery Man) and Nicholas Anson (Data Miner).
It’s tempting to look at a painting or watch a film and partake in some pop psychology about the creator. It’s best to side step too much of that thinking. Reminds me of a great answer Chris Morris gave when a journalist wanted to know how he thought about his impact on a whole generation of satirists. He promptly said no, that thinking like that would be a route to madness.
With that in mind, here is an off the cuff discussion about a film I was involved with. Watched Voodoonaut? Cool. May the following chat be of interest to you.
John Clay – Writer/Director
John Clay: Congratulations on all your hard work on the completion of Voodoonaut. What were your initial thoughts on the finished film and how did they match up to your expectations?
Ola Kitchen: It was very arthouse. To me it felt like a film you’d see playing at the Tate as you walked through the exhibitions, like the first surrealist Buñuel film rather than say a traditional narrative driven Sci-Fi.
John: Your Tate analogy is something a few others have said, which is lovely. How about you Lars, and did the final result meet or confound your expectations?
Lars Chittka: The film is stunningly beautiful – it has a very dream-like character, and is enjoyable just for that. It’s much more than just a possible background to a museum exhibition, where you can enter and exit for any segment.
There is of course a narrative (or rather several), only they don’t lend themselves to easy interpretations. I am still working on figuring more of them out. It is like a fairy tale puzzle! The character played by me (and the narrative surrounding him) is a sadly familiar tale of a powerful artist who blurs the boundaries between his fictional characters and real people dependent on him, who thinks he ‘owns’ his models and manipulates and controls them. That theme shows up in various forms in the film. I wish John had a more savoury character for me to play in my first role, but hey, that’s acting!
John: I’m glad you arrived at such clear conclusions on the film and your character. In this discussion there ought to be time to inspect the parts of the story that still puzzle you.
It’s understandable for a first time actor to feel that the part they play ought to be flattering. As time goes on and the roles pile up it’s arguable that a performer considers their image or their brand far less and treats the experience as a holiday from their true identity. I appreciate how you reached an understanding of Lars the actor, Lars the person and the role of the mystery man.
I have another question for Ola, but first, do tell us about your expectations of the film Rob – how does the end result confirm or negate them?
Rob Homewood: Well, going in, I suspected that being your brainchild, it would be both weird and beautiful, and I certainly wasn’t disappointed on either front. For me personally, there was a lot of learning new skills, which was challenging and loads of fun, and I feel very proud to have had the opportunity to be involved.
John: It’s such a group effort and your attention to detail on the sound mix as well as your shots of those weird trees we discovered (thank you tree scout Katie Sharman) really work.
Before I ask Hazel about the use of their aesthetic in the film, Ola, do you have any thoughts on the use of masks? Go wild with your answer should you feel the urge.
Ola: I’m terribly afraid I’m not sure what I feel about the masks. Sometimes when I see abstract films it’s more about the feelings at the time, subconscious impulses that like a dream tend to fade as you awake out of them.
John: That’s fair. It’s important to deal with the feelings we experience with a film rather than seek to interllectualise everything. Perhaps it would serve our purpose better if you spoke about your feelings about your character and how you prepare for a role? You’ve done so much voiceover work.
Ola: That’s very kind of you to say, but aside from the radio show, I haven’t done much character work like this. I think first you sent me just my lines so I delivered them rather flat as I recall. I needed more direction to get what you wanted, so I was glad for the second round where you sent me other people’s lines so I could actually react more to what was happening. Heh heh, it was like a method actor; ‘what is my character’s motivation?’ I also had some fun pretending I was one of those Ops on Doctor Who being called up by command to report.
John: Well, there I was thinking you’d done a lot of voiceover work. All those years of being a radio DJ have really paid off. Thank you Ola.
I’m grateful for your honesty regarding the first try at the lines, but I think you would have nailed it initially if I had given you more direction to begin with. In the initial stages of the project I was very, very loose, as Hazel and Nicholas could tell you.
Working remotely during the various stages of the pandemic was tough and putting together what was essentially an amorphous radio drama individually rather than as an ensemble was exciting. You were all so good at playing off the script, each other and your own inclinations.
A secondary character like Ops exists primarily for exposition so I’m happy that you found ways to modulate the intonation of the voice where and when you could. You say Doctor Who but I was thinking you were drawing on all that Star Trek bridge personnel knowledge you have, you rabid trekkie, you!
Hazel, I recently quizzed you about the use of your stage aesthetic in the context of the film’s poster and the film itself. You said:
‘Flattered by its prominence! Intrigued by how my onstage “id” – gender-ambiguous Infant terrible – Dead Aloha – would be the visual seed that inspired Lt Earle’s mother – Judith ‘Judy’ Marie Earle.’
My follow up question would be a repeat of what I asked Ola Kitchen… What do you think of the use of masks in the film? As ever, there are no wrong answers, just opportunities to share your interpretation of Voodoonaut.
Hazel Turnock: I love masks! Masks in Aloha Dead go hand in hand with the music – to create something that hopefully speaks to folks on multiple channels. It’s important to me that any response born out of this remains an entirely personal experience. For this reason, I never like to discuss what the elements of the band’s sound or image mean to us personally – at the risk of influencing/limiting how our audience then perceives it…
With this in mind, I’ll just say that in the context of the film/Judith Marie Earle, the mask represents something irrevocable.
John: Masks are everywhere, right? From rituals to theatre, comics and the silver screen, we humans harbour an obsession with hiding our faces to perhaps exhibit the ones we hide.
To curate a truly personal experience as a filmmaker means having to be aware that the end result is my portion of the dialogue done. The desire to step aside from the art and invite interpretation is something I’ve believed in for some time despite the fact that I love to take things apart and discuss the pieces with kind folk such as yourself. How did you come across this realisation? I suspect our dear departed David Lynch had something to do with it, but I could be mistaken.
Hazel: It is an opinion I definitely share with the late, great Lynch. As he’s famously quoted with saying: “The film is the talking”. I don’t see the point releasing art to the public, then explaining it. I love that a film/song/painting can hold different meanings to different people. Equally fascinating to me, is that something seemingly quite abstract can still evoke a similar emotion from different people.
John: What you’re saying reminds me of Judith Marie Earl. Like many of the characters in the film, Judith is viewed through digital glitches and redacted files of an unnamed agency. Through the use of ‘negative space’ (as utilised in abstract painting), I implore the audience to fill in the cracks with their imagination and hope that viewers question their choices and begin or continue their voyage of self illumination. Thanks again for bringing Judith to life Hazel.
Rob, Lars, care to comment on what Hazel and I have said?
Rob: Perhaps the film is like a gestalt to the subconscious, both in terms of the film’s narrative, as well as that of the experience that the viewer has whilst watching. In fact maybe it’s a mask on your face too Mr Clay. A mask that people believe to be transparent, “baring your soul as an artist”, viewers seek to infer some truth about you as the creator but are most likely just viewing the world through their own masks, projecting their own subconscious desires onto their internal representation of you… it’s masks all the way down.
Ola: What about the Mask as a line of defense against the world? Like say punk Icon Jordan or drag queens wear makeup like a mask…. like they put on armor to protect themselves from judgement or abuse?
John: Lot’s to say on all this but I’d like to invite Lars and Nicholas to weigh in with their perspectives.
Lars: John Clay, I am curious if the parallel of my character to the Brother Grimm’s Rumpelstiltskin is deliberate, or coincidence… the idea that knowing someone’s name gives you power over them, but so long as their identity remains hidden, the evil party holds the power is of course very similar. If the analogy is deliberate, are there more fairy tale references?
John: I try not to confirm or deny anyone’s perspective on projects I helm these days. What they see in the story, song, film or painting is important to them and is a conclusion reached via the ladder of their subjective experience. I’m far more interested in the viewer’s experience rather than seek a confirmation of my intent. The film is the talking, or at least it should be. Before I fully embraced my current philosophy I was and am from time to time keen to be less closeted and deconstruct intent and execution without much prompting.
The Mystery Man was initially designed from the ground up to be an instrument of control and power over time and distance. As time went on and I tightened the script he became even less of a man and more of a corruption of will. He acts like a rorschach test for men on the progressive left in the arts. That’s all I should say in this regard. What else have you noticed Lars? Feel free to comment on any aspect of the production.
Lars: I understand that you don’t want to “explain the film” to audiences… but there are so many intriguing mysteries that I can’t help but be curious at least to try to ask you for help.
Nicholas Anson: There’s an awful lot to unpack here! I like the fact that things can appear good, bad or neutral depending on the person viewing them. This I think is the joy of art, music, film etc. It can mean totally different things to different people and that even that can change over time from one extreme to the other!
Lars: I understand that certain things are (probably) deliberately open-ended, such as the “otherworldly threat” confronted by Julia Earle. This seems to be a canvas that everyone can paint themselves. But there are some themes where I feel there is a hidden meaning that is intended by the author / director… e.g. the recurrent theme of “television … but for real” – what is this television world relative to the one we’re seeing in the film?
A few guidance pointers here would be helpful – no need to tell the whole story of course, but maybe help your audience a little more so they have some clues as to how to unlock the many deeper levels of the story.
John: I think I gave away quite a bit of my intention away in my last answer which will probably unlock a few realisations upon your next viewing. So, no more sweeties for you Lars Chittka!
I think that it’s healthy to form an independent relationship with a film rather than through its director. A lot of us directors simply ought not to be trusted. We love our intentions so much, regardless of what ends up on screen.
The films I like stay alive the more I revisit them and I’m thankful for fellow filmmakers who refuse to curate my imagination as much as they can. Voodoonaut is definitely created to reward you each time you head back out into it, probing for more understanding or as Ola more or less said, the vibe.
If there is an audience that needs guidelines in order to enjoy my films then they are probably not going to the cinema for the same reason I currently do, and that’s fine. What is interesting is that there is always someone who likes the film but fears for an imagined audience member who requires a helping hand to enjoy it. It’s a fun paradox to sink your teeth into.
Rob, earlier you mentioned having to acquire new skills or words to that effect. Tell us more about your multiple roles in the production of Voodoonaut and how you rose to meet its many challenges.
Rob: Yeah, the whole experience was broadly quite a growth process for me but I think if I were to pinpoint tangible skills then I suppose it would be lots of audio stuff mainly, but also little bits of VFX too. The audio work really reignited a long held interest in audio production (John and I have been making music together on and off over the last twenty years) which has now spilled over into other creative projects too. The VFX work that John mentioned earlier leaned more on the skills I use in my day job, although I don’t work directly in games production, I spent about ten years in game development education at various levels so I used a game engine to produce the visuals in a procedural manner. T’was fun.
John: Let’s not forget your work behind the camera too. Some wonderful shots of the trees that I’m very happy with have ended up in the final cut. Thank you so much Rob.
Rob: Oh right yeah lol. The good part about having the memory of a goldfish is that everything is basically a novel experience for me so it’s really easy to get amped up and engaged! The downside is that I basically forget most stuff immediately after it’s left my temporal proximity.
The filming was definitely fun though! Especially sneaking into that park at like 4am to film the pyramid thing, haha that was wild.
John: Ha, guerilla filmmaking! Nothing quite like it.
Oh, and talking of people with the memory of a goldfish, do you have anything to say about Connie, The Construct, played by Camille Alexander? What do you think of her relationship with the Mystery Man? Perhaps you have an opinion Ola? Go for it.
Lars: If I may parachute a comment in here – John Clay – you just DID give me another sweetie! The fish memory! Until now I hadn’t figured out the idea behind the “little fish”. I’m slow sometimes. — well, that explains a lot…
John: You’re not slow, it’s as Nicholas Anson says: ‘There’s an awful lot to unpack here!’
We’ll be wrapping up soon with some furthering of the chit chat regarding Hazel and Nicholas’ contributions. So any thoughts on Camille’s character? Open ask to anyone, particularly Ola, as your relationship to sci-fi tropes would be illuminating in this regard.
Ola: I didn’t really clock onto sci-fi tropes through the narrative, for me it was a reactive journey through the subconscious, it was more just about feeling it as it happened, like when you look out the car window as the landscape goes by. I just watched and felt it without too much critical thinking going on.
John: Thank you for taking the time out to ‘look out of the car window as the landscape goes by’. Feeling is just as valid as a cerebral consideration.
Hazel, remember when I asked you what parts of Voodoonaut’s abstract storytelling hit home and what parts of the story are you still grappling with?
You said: ‘I greatly enjoyed seeing Nick tapping into his not often externalised dark side… Boy, did that get dark quick! As to grappling: let’s just say I feel the same way about my “Southern American” accent in Voodoonaut, that David Bowie did about Phillip Jeffries’, in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me.
Considering some of the meta aspects of identity in this story Hazel, your accent was awesome. I’d have words with anyone else who thought otherwise! Care to elaborate on the Data Miner’s inner darkness Nicholas Anson? Your poetic monologue is a wealth of all things sinister.
Nicholas: At the time of writing for the Data Miner I did not really know his ultimate part in the wider context of the final film and never thought I would ever end up a villain!
I purposely did not re-listen before writing this as I was sure it would taint my response. As a practicing Buddhist of 15+ years, and still very much a work in progress, I think the core idea behind my monologue was a quote from Geshe Kelsang Gyatso in “Transform Your Life”
“It is as if we are living in a thorn bush – whenever we move it is as if we are wounded by circumstances. People and things are like thorns piercing our flesh, and no situation feels entirely comfortable. The more desires and plans we have the more frustrations we experience. The more we want certain situations, the more we find ourselves stuck in situations we do not want.”
This may sound bleak, but really it’s just the fuel of renunciation we need to encourage us to realise our current situation and push towards our own inner development.
I didn’t want it to be a preacher’s rant, but I saw the data miner on the edge of this realisation and very much aware of his own mortality. It was an uncomfortable and disturbing transition for him involving self mutilation, which was more of a metaphor for a person with a background in science exposed to psychotropic exploration and questioning his existence.
That probably leaves more questions than answers, but hopefully explains my intention behind the monologue.
Voodoonaut is available to watch online now via Youtube and Vimeo
Voodoonaut: Facebook / Instagram
Introduction by Paul Maps
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