 |
The January, 2001 Guerrilla Filmmaker® Magazine Interview/Review — by Brian Nilred-
"My friends are handicapped, not me," says Rene Moreno, a San Antonio native with Down Syndrome who is the focus of Up Syndrome, a fascinating new documentary by University of Texas student Duane Graves. That quote is just one of many special moments in this 82-minute doc, which marks Graves' feature directorial debut. Graves and Moreno have been childhood friends, and their bond is what gives Up Syndrome its special touch. Shot over an 18-month period with a Mini-DV camera Graves received as a graduation present, Up Syndrome is a deeply personal study of the young man Graves describes as the most "up" person he has ever met.
The documentary begins with details regarding Graves' initial meeting with Moreno. As the story unveils, the director introduces clips from several home video projects, which feature Moreno in principal roles in little projects like Man vs. Beast and Revenge of the Cabbage Patch Killer. The doc then takes a journal-style approach, becoming more focused on Moreno's personal life. Graves' friendship with Moreno is apparent in nearly every frame of the film, allowing Moreno to feel comfortable in opening up and letting us into his world, which is pretty much filled with some of the same preoccupations everyone experiences on a daily basis. Moreno talks a lot about his job and his girlfriend, losing both during the course of filming. He shares with us his aspirations of wanting to be a cop so that he may carry a gun to help people in need to "stay alive," a theme that has a recurring presence throughout the entire film. Graves invents highly entertaining ways to illustrate Moreno's goals with witty 'put-on' sequences that are intentionally reminiscent of reality-based TV programs such as Cops.
What makes Up Syndrome delightful to sit through, is the fact that the director never treats his subject as a "subject." Yes, Moreno has Down Syndrome, and yes, he may look and sound different, but Graves never approaches Moreno with kid gloves, thus avoiding a condescending nature, and keeping clear of anything that may resemble a 'movie-of-the-week' type device to jerk some tears from the viewer. Moreno is funny, endearing, and often more driven than anyone I've met. His quiet moments alone (or at least, with only Graves watching from his camera) are poignant and very enlightening. In the simplicity of Moreno's words (subtitled throughout most of the film to ensure the viewer's understanding of his every word), lies a constant sense of awareness and inner truth. He speaks about death, and is aware that he is mortal. He speaks about his friends and the people he works for, and understands that he is often seen as being different. But he never gives up his determination to live a "normal" life. He may not know how to read, but he is certainly ready and willing to learn anything, including driving a car, and even finding humor in the fact that his driving efforts may be worrying his filmmaker passenger, sitting beside him.
Moreno enjoys his life, only occasionally complaining about being bored or upset. When he's not dialing every number in the yellow pages in attempts to land a new job, he's playing his own interpretation of RoboCop for the camera, or teaching us some cool karate moves. Graves, aided by a plethora of nicely photographed footage and a great sense of cutting, keeps the documentary moving quite smoothly, even taking certain stylistic liberties more in step with a music video than a documentary.
It appears quite obvious that Graves cares deeply about Moreno, and his documentary takes a very distinctive approach in presenting this notion. The director never interviews anyone else throughout the documentary, and avoids distraction
s of any kind, keeping the camera fixed on Moreno, accenting the intimate bond that exists between Moreno and himself. Graves further enhances the personal touch by finding Moreno in quiet, perhaps even vulnerable moments, where he seems almost unaware of the camera's presence, as if the camera is just an extension of Graves' body. It is in those moments that Moreno opens up completely, sharing his own brand of insight on becoming an uncle, smoking, and 'staying alive.'
Duane Graves raised the money he needed to finish his film via the Internet, by selling a collection of 16mm prints of I Love Lucy episodes he almost literally stumbled upon. He is a true guerrilla artist. His honest approach to filmmaking is highly organic, at times even a little self-indulgent, but nevertheless very promising and solid, and truly inspira
tional for anyone looking to venture out on a DV doc adventure. His passion for the material is always in the foreground. You see it. You feel it. And even if his doc doesn't shine too bright a light on the subject of Down Syndrome (and I'm sure this was exactly the way Graves wanted it), he still succeeds on a multitude of levels as a visual storyteller. Graves is not afraid to get close - real close - to his subject. During an interview, Graves admitted that the idea of mak
ing this documentary went way beyond the 18 months it took to actually get it in the can. Throughout the years, Duane Graves has followed his good friend Rene Moreno with a camera, be it VHS or other, capturing every event that would seem important in his life. "I just knew that if I could paint an honest 80 minute portrait of Rene, I could share my friend with everyone," says Graves. And that is, indeed, what Graves has done. He has shared his friend with us, who in turn has shared his own insight, giving us much to smile about, and earning three sweet bananas along the way.
The End
Back to top
« Back to reference
|
| |
