1001 Positively True Stories of An Indie Filmmaker

Here. My Explosion...

When Reid Gershbein twittered (@thraveboy) about posting his film, Here. My Explosion… online I was excited. Weeks earlier, Reid and I had collaborated with several others on a Twitter-based roundtable discussion about DIY distribution for indie filmmakers. My truncated take on Reid’s essay was this: make a film, show it for free, let people pay you what they want. Now, here he was, putting his film where his mouth was. I was impressed with the action. Lots of folks talk about doing something. Very few actually do something.

Reid incorporated a funny sales pitch (if you will) with his film, offering “nothing for something” to all. What’s the nothing? Air. Bonafide, where-ever-you-live air.  If you liked the film and wanted to contribute to the actor’s personal fund, you can show your appreciation and receive good ole air for the price of $1. Call me big spender: I bought $2 worth of Los Angeles air before I ever saw one frame of the movie. Us indie filmmakers gotta stick together (and it’s 1/5 the price of a movie ticket!).

Whenever I watch a film I must tame my natural tendencies. I am a huge fan of the three-act structure; I look for it and expect it when I sit down to watch a film. However, when I watch an art film I curb that desire to look for specific plot points and try to leave myself open to experience everything and anything the filmmaker had in mind. I took that position with Here. My Explosion… and it worked well. 

I liked the film. It was beautifully and artfully shot with what I expect was a nominal production budget. The locations and art design were glorious, the San Francisco scenery puts everything in LA to shame and the performances were laid back enough to convey what I believe is the general mood of the film: chillaxing.

The first twenty minutes reminded me of something I heard in screenwriting class: the time to slowly explore your characters and story is in the beginning because that’s when you have the time. In other words, if you want to delay your pay-offs or let the story evolve at a slower pace, do it in the beginning, when it’s expected. Here. My Explosion… follows that format in letting us get involved in the characters’ lives — from a fly on the wall perspective — after setting up an interesting plot point with the main character and her coffee cup. The story shifts from that plot point but leaves adequate clues that there is something mysterious, or even magical, left to happen with said coffee cup.

Reid adheres to a very deliberate and nonchalant speed in his storytelling. If you are expecting flash and bang, or generic indie drama, it doesn’t happen.  One could say this works in the film’s favor;  I was left hanging over my laptop furious at times with the characters about their lackadaisical response to the surreal events. I guess you can say I was engaged, forcibly so by Reid’s clever employment of indifference in some scenes.

The film includes additional, yet subtle themes of freedom, capitalism, escapism and unrequited love. There was even a point where the neanderthal man in me responded to a misdirection and eagerly looked forward to seeing Sera and Tegan kiss. 

I didn’t necessarily like all the characters, but enough of them were interesting enough to warrant the time investment to see their stories play out. In the end, I sat for 75 minutes to watch the film on my computer. And as I understand it, I am not alone. According to the most recent tweet I am aware of, over 14,000 people have watched Here. My Explosion… online. That’s a helluva lot of free air.

Watch the film here 

Download the film here

Find Reid Gershbein on Twitter