Paula Wood - Director
I met Paula Wood at a mixer during the Hollywood Black Film Festival last week. I was having a beer and a cosmopolitan with two gentlemen from the festival when she approached with two other young ladies. All six of us quickly exchanged business cards as we ate our finger foods (turkey club sandwiches and egg rolls) before we chatted about our films and naturally made agreements to see each other’s films.
My screening was that very night. After my film finished and I moved to the front of the theater for my Q&A. I was happy to see Paula sitting in an aisle seat with a big smile on her face. I shook her hand, and quickly thanked her for coming. She smiled again and said, “I really enjoyed your film.”
I made a mental note to make sure I was on time to the short film block that Reverie screening in on Sunday. Even after rushing my wife and driving at illegal speeds I didn’t make it in time to see her screening. I saw Paula standing outside schmoozing after her screening and I caught up with her inside the theater. I apologized for missing her film and asked if I could get a copy of her film. In a split second a DVD was in my hand.
Today I had a chance to watch Reverie, uninterrupted, at home. Loved it.
The film is a throwback to a more artistic era of filmmaking where visuals tell the story. Sad eyes. Angry expressions. Looks of despair, fear, threat, etc. It begins with a little girl’s voiceover, “Dear God, is my life a dream.”
Then we’re quickly and succinctly educated on the girl’s plight. A domineering father. A mother who may or may not be harassed by the father and two children who live in fear of the coin flip: Tails, you’re off the hook. Heads, it’s time for a whuppin’.
I was immediately brought back to my own childhood. Inside my head flashed visions of my father’s wide leather belt and us kids worriedly waiting to see who would get it first. There is no greater terror for a child. Such is the life of the girl as she hastily makes her bed, all the while listening to her brother’s predicament. The coin came up heads for him.
The film possesses a classic southern charm, making it visually timeless. Paula’s direction and the editing is concise and unobtrusive, pushing the viewer to think and imagine rather than spoon feed him/her. And in an instant, it changes. Such is life. With a flip of the coin, the direction alters. We’re no longer draped in the drama of typical family dynamics, we’re cloaked in anguish as a sibling dies.
We are left, as the little girl is left, wondering if it is all a dream. Wondering if one flip of a coin can dramatically change our lives and our futures. Hoping that one day we’ll wake up and move on from today’s pain as if it were merely yesterday’s nightmare.
Paula did a wonderful job on Reverie. Too often with artistic films there can be too much creativity and too little substance. Not so here. She applies a deft tough to every aspect, drawing the viewer in, piquing curiosity and then spinning them about. The film tugs at the heartstrings, and if emotion counts, Paula does darn good job of balancing the real with the surreal.
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Discover her next project, Order My Steps, on Vimeo
