BFF FILM & FESTIVAL BLOG
Everything in the End: Q&A With Writer/Director Mylissa Fitzsimmons
Written by Kennedy McCutchen
Hugo de Sousa as Paulo in Everything in The End Photo Credit: Hello Charles LLC, Bearly There Media
Imagine Richard Linklater’s Boyhood and Eric Rohmer’s Le Rayon Vert creating an apocalyptic, grief-inducing film of silent self-exploration. That is precisely what Mylissa Fitzsimmons has created in her first debut feature film submitted to this year’s Bushwick Film Festival. A self-proclaimed fan of the slow-burn, or in Fitzsimmons words, “the quiet film,” the Los Angeles-based writer, director, producer, and photographer achieves her own version of man-meets-nature-meets-end-of-the-world. Viewers follow Paulo as he travels to Iceland, where he contemplates his tainted past, his sequestered present, and his unattainable future. We were able to speak with Mylissa about the genesis of her film, cultivating resourcefulness for low-budget indies, and her cinemagraphic inspirations.
Congratulations on your debut feature film! Perhaps the equally simplest and most exciting question: Why this film? What was the genesis of Everything in the End? What was its gestation period?
Thank you, and thanks Bushwick Film Festival for programming the film, we’re very excited to screen there. It’s been a great, but challenging adventure bringing my debut future to festivals this last year. The pandemic has made this film and the whole experience making it feel so much more personal.
In October of 2018, I was in Iceland as part of The RIFF Talent Lab, and the whole time there I just became obsessed with the idea of shooting a film there. When I came back to LA at the start of 2019, all I knew was I wanted to shoot a film there but had no idea what, when, how. I then was asked by Raul, a friend from Spain who I had met at the lab, if I was interested in doing a short film as part of a series of shorts about the last night on earth. Nothing came from that project, but that simple question of, “What would you do if it were the last night on Earth? “ really planted the seed for the idea of a film. I have always been a fan of dystopian genre films and kinda ran with the idea that I wanted to do this “end of world” film but actually not make a film about the end of the world. More so, I wanted to make a film about the kindness of people at the end of the world, so instead I gravitated to a story that was less plot driven and more emotionally driven. I really enjoy films that make me feel wrecked and depressed when I leave the theater.
I needed to do a feature film, I wanted to move forward with my film career and I just couldn’t do any more short films. By August 2019, we had finished crowdfunding, found two investors who put in some extra money to get us through filming it, and by September we had a cast and another draft of the script. We had a 5 person crew shooting the film, 2 producers, and a 10 day shoot schedule. Basically we somehow wrote, produced, and shot a film in 3 months start to finish.
Near the end of the film, Paulo asks his friend if he is going to church. His friend replies: “No. No, it’s too late for that. No, I’m going up that mountain.” This, to me, is an imperative motif of the film: a rejection of orthodoxy, particular orthodox forms of comfort and security, and an undertaking of the difficult, the uncomfortable, of nature in all its grim, sublime beauty. In many ways, perhaps, it is Sisyphus himself returning to the bottom of the hill to push the boulder up again. As the writer, what does this “mountain” mean to you? What universal human mountains, like death, is the film forcing to the foreground?
That mountain represents very different answers to those two characters who climb it. When writing I felt that this mountain was the final symbol of love, a place where one returns often because he fell in love there. A place where someone was conceived out of love, and finally a place where in the simple act of going to this place a person is fulfilling the last wish of a loved one and in doing so can finally forgive and love himself. There’s the line in an earlier scene where Ana says, “Death reunites us with the ones we love” -- to me death is the obstacle to that love, and the mountain is where one is reunited with the love, figuratively and metaphorically. In order to get to that place Paulo has to go through the process of grief; it’s messy, uncomfortable, and emotional. The beautiful thing he discovers about it, is that he doesn't have to grieve alone.
Official Movie Poster provided by Hello Charles LLC, Bearly There Media
What was the process like of capturing such an intimate audio-visual experience of nature, particularly in relation to such a natural phenomenon like death? How important was the location - Iceland - to your work, and how did you make your scouting decisions?
Financially, as an indie filmmaker who is also a producer on a micro budget film, Iceland probably wasn't the smartest decision. But as a director who started out as a photographer, visually Iceland was my only choice. From the very beginning, I knew that it was important to me that the film portrayed nature in all its beauty, but that those landscapes also had to be a little unforgiving towards Paulo, making him feel more isolated, alone and grieving, forcing him to find comfort in others. Another thing that I really wanted to do was to work with our sound person, Kirbie Seis. I had approached her and said, “I want to make a really quiet film and I need it to sound like the earth is grieving, but also make it sound like Iceland.” I’d often look around and see her off in the fields or by the side of the road with her microphone just recording sounds. So when we got back she had this library of sounds of Iceland, and every sound was incorporated into the design, and then Darren Morze came in with this emotional score that incorporated that and just leveled it all up. It made me so happy, it really was beautiful to sit and watch the film and hear. I could isolate all the locations from the recordings and it transported me right back. It’s very subtle and really what I was hoping we could accomplish. To make a very quiet film that felt like the Earth was crying out in grief.
I’m going to admit something: scouting was all done via Google Earth and Airbnb. I picked a few areas that I had been to and knew what to expect visually. It doesn't sound very glamorous, but we also did not have a budget that allowed us many options. We really lucked out though. We only have 3 locations, and once we found a place where we were going to live, all those locations were within minutes away just by pure luck.
Your film’s aesthetic brought to mind projects like Richard Linklater’s Boyhood and Eric Rohmer’s Le Rayon Vert that retain equal parts spaciousness and intimate psychological profiling. What filmmakers and movements inspire your work?
I have my favorite filmmakers that have inspired me to be a filmmaker, but I’m not sure how much each one inspired this film specifically. I suppose on some conscious or unconscious level it’s all in there. I do know for this film I had a small list of films I asked the crew and Hugo de Sousa the lead actor to watch. I wanted them to get a better understanding of the tone and pacing. Starting with Kieslowski’s Blue, and then Kelly Reichardt’s Wendy and Lucy, and finally Kogonada’s film Columbus. All three really set the tone for me and were a great starting point for inspiration. I’m guilty of being a fan of the “slow burn” movement of filmmaking. I don’t like that description as much. I like saying “the quiet film” movement!
This film seems to question the meaning and interpretations of family. We see Paulo drift from one companion(s) to the next, even winding up next to a mother and her child, as if he himself is the father. How does family and its significance vary from character to character? How does this film contribute to the redefinition of concepts we take for granted?
Yes and no. These characters represent the stages of grief one goes through, but I made a conscious decision to make them all female for a reason. That being that each woman he encounters are these representations of his mom. Who she was and who she became and these manifestations of her in various stages are what he is processing, accumulating to this final acceptance stage with the mother and child. It really depends on the audience and how they feel and experience it. I wanted to give options actually because I wanted the space there for people to feel they could make that decision of how they feel about it all on their own. Really that is what I hope for, that people walk away with one feeling and then have a slow-think, and a couple of days later it hits them with a different feeling.
What is on the horizon? How do you think Everything in the End will influence your next project?
The frustration of having a film that has gone through festivals this last year has been that most have been virtual. A festival allows a filmmaker to connect, especially emerging filmmakers. This being my first feature, it’s been a bit of a challenge to connect. Virtual hasn't allowed me many opportunities to meet and connect with future film collaborators, so in a way the next project feels like it will be starting from square one again. So the horizon looks a little murky right now. It for sure involves another film with a small crew in an intimate setting again and obviously a slow, quiet burn. So if that type of film peaks someone’s interest they should reach out!
Director: Mylissa Fitzsimmons
Running Time: 75 minutes
Trailer available Here
Premiering at the Bushwick Film Festival Oct 20-24 at watch.bushwickfilmfestival.com
