For me, this film has always been about one man. It’s extremely personal, in that what I’m attempting to do is get inside the space of one man’s life. I’m not trying to explain away Johnny Tesar - there’s no way I, as an outsider, would feel right trying to psychoanalyze him. But I do want to let viewers look into his eyes, to make their own connection with him. To ask what events shaped this man, and how does he tell his story to us? Johnny is a born storyteller, and I wanted to take his story and find those rare instances where he (like all storytellers) drops his artifice and invites us in.
Viewers of “Bunnyland” have characterized the film as many different things. Some view it as a document of a region and a culture. Others see it as a series of tragicomic events of escalating seriousness.
Bunnyland
What led you to make this film? Did you know Johnny or hear about the events? How did you get involved?
This project found me, quite by accident. I’ve always had a personal interest in roadside kitsch, Americana, that sort of thing. So I was pretty amused when I first heard the story of a miniature golf course populated by rabbits. But there were also rumors and urban legends, about the slaughter of said rabbits, that were floating around on the internet, or by word of mouth in Tennessee. Thinking it might make for a quirky short film, I decided to do some research, and after a month or so discovered that the tragic events at Bunnyland Miniature Golf were no rumor. But in my investigation everyone kept mentioning a guy named Johnny Tesar - former owner, suspect in the killings, yes, but also a local legend, a fringe archaeologist, and a passionately spiritual person. I talked with people who loved him and hated him, but no one he hadn’t touched. But to me, people are not so easy to classify - no one can be written off as an eccentric, or a legend. So I knew Johnny was the person I wanted to talk to. It took me another month to track him down, but when I did, he practically gushed his life story over the phone. I told him to hang tight, and by 4am my assistant director and I were leaving Memphis for the first interview.
What were some of the greatest challenges you faced in making this film?
I would say there was one great challenge in making “Bunnyland”. I wanted to conduct the production in a way that was ethical and respectful. There were many, many shoots which took place in East Tennessee - Pigeon Forge, Knoxville, Gatlinburg - Appalachia. It’s a very tight knit community out there, and one that’s hard to walk into as a documentary filmmaker. In going and meeting people, whether in small towns, or tucked away in the hollows, I found a certain reluctance to open up. I think this is totally fair - the region has been completely skewered by every type of journalist, portrayed with a certain sense of patronizing “otherness”. I didn’t want to do this. So I met, I talked, I got to know people. I’d make the 6 hour drive just to talk to someone, to avoid the impersonality of a phone call. There were some interviews that took me a year and a half to get. And I think that’s great, because it means I really built a relationship with that person. So, generating a climate of comfort, trust, and mutual respect was my greatest, but most worthwhile challenge in making “Bunnyland”.
There’s a lot of silence and awkwardness with some of the interviews, especially the couple who were friends with Johnny. Why did you make that choice?
The use of silence, and long pauses, is something I’ve been criticized for. Personally, I love awkwardness. And I’m not talking about the film - in my own life, with my friends or companions, I find that moments of awkwardness can be terribly revealing. That said, the pauses in “Bunnyland” are not always awkward. Often times, I just want to invite the audience to spend some time with my subjects. To look at them, see how they act, see what’s in their eyes. This sort of film-as-portraiture I often find more revealing in documentaries than anything said in an interview. To me, it’s the moments when people are at a loss for words that their story becomes most readable.
Bunnyland
Why Bunnyland for a title?
Well, like I said, I originally thought “Bunnyland” would be a short piece about a rabbit-themed miniature golf course. Even when the film moved in a dramatically different direction, I was attached to the name. And when the project moved to a dark, personal tone, the name took on all kinds of new associations. And it reflects on the nature of Johnny’s life - here’s a man with all these tragic and wonderful facets and then suddenly, out of the blue, there’s also a rabbit-themed mini-golf in his life. It goes along with the idea that Johnny can’t be explained away, to have a non-sequitur from his life become the non-sequitur title.
Many of our users are just starting out; what advice do you have for aspiring filmmakers?
Wow, are you sure I’m qualified to answer this? I guess my advice would be pretty simple. Only try to do what’s within your means, but be a perfectionist once you get started. And don’t let the artifice of makin’ movies get in the way of actually doing something personal. And with Bunnyland, as with all the films I’ve worked on with my Memphis cohorts, there were Icee’s and cigarillos involved. And for documentary filmmakers, I would note that Hawaiian print shirts are the only way to go.
What format (film, video, hi-def) and camera did you use and why did you choose the format and camera? If you had a choice, would you use that camera again?
I shot standard-def 24p DV, on the Panasonic DVX. It’s a great little camera - the colors are almost improbably deep, and the shape and button placements are very intuitive for on the go documentary shooting. I’m still using it on some of my new projects - but I’m avoiding another widescreen project for a while. With all the hype over HD, I see most of my favorite work (and most of the audience) retreating to the web.
There’s some interesting framing in this film, (like Ray’s bear lamp) When shooting the interviews, how did you decide what the framing and location would be? What do you think that adds to an interview?
I made a conscious decision at the outset that “Bunnyland” would be composed of carefully framed static compositions. I suppose it’s a style that I like, something that evokes old educational docs, or early Errol Morris films. But the simple framing also helps the film read more like an oral history than a visual spectacle, and that was important to the story I was trying to tell. As for some of the more bizarre framing (Ray with his bear lamp, Sally at her desk, and of course Johnny with his taxidermies), I generally would let my subjects pick a location they felt most comfortable in. Then I would zoom wide and let the space become a real character in their interview - an economy of shots yes, but also way of illuminating my subjects that is at different points humorous, grave, or heartfelt.
Have you placed your films online and do you think it’s a good outlet for young filmmakers to get exposure?
I’ve played with online distribution in the past, certainly. “Bunnyland”, in it’s framing and pacing, wasn’t really designed for the web - but I’m sure it will end up there eventually. I think what’s happening with online video right now is really exciting. It’s so important what’s going on, the way that open source advocates and pirates are, from opposite ends of the spectrum, changing the very idea of what media is. Audiences are resisting the newest home video products and seeking innovative, personal voices online. The message it sends to young filmmakers is a powerful one - it’s all about quality, emotion, and story. And I only hope this gets more and more true.
Did you go to film school? If yes, where and what did you think of the experience?
Well, yes. I’m currently a student at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I started shooting “Bunnyland” before I enrolled, but was hoping to pick up more technical skills. Now, I find myself taking almost no classes about the mechanics of filmmaking. I think more as an artist than a moviemaker, so the most useful things to me are courses in history, theory, and aesthetics.
What are the other films you have made?
I made a short documentary called “Above God” several years ago. It was similar to “Bunnyland” in its focus on one man, and a very unique one at that. I followed the life of Gene Ray, the fringe philosopher turned web celebrity behind timecube.com. I was happy with the film, and it picked up a few awards at festivals. But looking back on it, I realize I made some rookie mistakes. “Above God” is very reverent of Gene, but reverent from an outsider’s perspective. So while I got Gene across to the audience, he didn’t connect with it the way Johnny connected with the final draft of “Bunnyland”. Other than that, I’ve worked on a few shorts, some web content, and what might be called a documentary play. And I’ve been a part of a lot of collaborations in Memphis. Currently I’m working there on a magical realist film (What I Love About Concrete, a sort of feminist/fantasy coming of age story), and in Chicago on some short docs focusing on the aesthetics of the mundane.
Which filmmakers have most influenced your work?
Right now I’m really into Jim Henson, Greg Araki, and Ben Siler. But as far as documentary directors, I’ve taken great inspiration from Robert Stone, Errol Morris, and, tangentially, Rick Prelinger.
What’s you motto?
Art is suffering, suffering is pleasure. : )
What other festivals is your film appearing in?
Bunnyland has screened at the Nashville Film Fest, Indie Memphis Film Fest, and the Austin Film Fest. This week it screens at San Francisco’s DocFest, and in November it plays at the Southern Appalachian International Film Fest. Maybe there will be more festivals, but who can say. It’s also going to have a small run of the Documentary Channel, starting on October 29th.
You saw the collection of artifacts…do you believe?
I look at Johnny’s rock collection, and I can certainly see what he sees. But what I wanted to get across in the documentary is that it doesn’t matter whether Johnny’s artifacts are carved or he’s just seeing faces in clouds. Johnny has amassed a breathtaking collection, but whether its beauty is inherent or a reflection of its brilliantly creative curator, I will leave up to the audience.
What did you think about Johnny’s seeming contradiction between saying he would shoot the dogs and not care and his previous statements about never hurting an animal?
I think Johnny has a great ability to rationalize his decisions. I really don’t doubt that he is an animal lover. He killed several hunting dogs because they were threatening other animals, the raccoons he took care of, and I think that decision felt right to him. Johnny’s decisions are circumstantial, and to the viewer, shades of gray.
Where’s Johnny now?
After Johnny lost his land and left Pigeon Forge, he settled down south of Nashville. He’s driving a truck and working on his tee-shirts, and still taking care of his rocks. He’s doing well these days, and trying to keep things low key after all that happened to him in the past two decades.
See Bunnyland at Docfest:
Sun, Oct 26 2008, 12:30 pm at the Roxie Cinema in San Francisco, CA.
Fri, Oct 31 2008, 5:00 pm at the Shattuck Cinema in Berkeley, CA.
For more info on DocFest go to:
www.sfindie.com
For more info on Brett Hanover and Bunnyland check out these sites:
www.bretthanover.com
www.bunnylandmovie.com
Check out a trailer of the film here:
