Jason Stephens on the Chicago film-making scene
In the entertainment world, people know Chicago for improv and sketch comedy. But film, not so much—Chicago and Wicker Park weren’t even made here. Economics are mostly to blame (it isn’t cheap to film here), but Chicago also lacks the filmmaking personality of New York or Los Angeles. At least that’s what Jason Stephens, executive director of Split Pillow, thinks. To ameliorate that, his local not-for-profit production company creates films that incorporate Chicago’s improv legacy. All of Split Pillow’s films—six features in all, beginning with 2003’s The Cliffhanger—are improvised, with multiple directors: One director supervises the first part, then the next director takes that idea and adds to it, then another, etc. That kind of collaboration is unheard of—and probably heretical—in the movie industry. Just before the screening of the company’s latest, soulMaid, Stephens spoke with The A.V. Club.
The A.V. Club: Did you intend to make improv films, or did you choose it as regional identity?
Jason Stephens: Both. I think, on the one hand, that we definitely, consciously chose the improv notion because this is Chicago, and people respond to improv as a brand and also because the people who tend to be in Chicago and stick around Chicago have training and interest in that form. Those who don’t usually head for the coasts right away. It just seemed like a perfect match to bring the filmmakers that are Chicago-based and want to be Chicago-based and give them a certain amount of freedom and a chance to innovate and explore the art in a way that’s relevant to this region.
AVC: It’s risky, too. What if it doesn’t work?
JS: There are specific points in probably every project we do where I could say, on a personal level, “I don’t like that as much,” or “That doesn’t work for me.” Does that mean it won’t for everybody? Of course not. Everybody has his or her own aesthetic and style. But at the same time, that’s one of the benefits of working in non-profit arts: Not everything is going to work. You don’t have investors that you have to answer to in that respect.
AVC: Why go the not-for-profit route?
JS: There are a lot of advantages. Our budget our first year of operations was $6,000. It was nothing. This year, we’re going to top $85,000; we’re projected to hit over $100,000 next year. But when you start out with that $6,000, it doesn’t make any sense to do it as a for-profit, because you’re able to put that money behind resources. People understand they’re doing it for a cause then, too: “I’m working on this because it’s something different, not because I expect to make a lot of money.” I think it frees up filmmakers a lot, too.
AVC: How have Split Pillow’s films changed over time?
JS: They’ve gotten lighter, which is nice. It’s funny; The Cliffhanger was this really dark, disturbing piece. I don’t know if it’s a reflection of times changing or what, but the pieces have moved in a much lighter direction.
AVC: To the point that soulMaid qualifies as a “romantic comedy.”
JS: [Laughs.] soulMaid is a romantic comedy, but not in a traditional sense. I think the best way to describe soulMaid is “a gay fairytale,” so a “fairytale” in every sense of the word, I guess. [Laughs.]
AVC: Do you guide directors at all, like tell them where stories should end?
JS: We haven’t done that yet, but that’s something we discuss often as a board—how much to guide these projects and parameters. I think every project we determine a little bit differently, depending on the filmmakers and what we hope to accomplish from that particular work.
AVC: Would you ever work with one director and multiple writers, or multiple directors with one writer on a project?
JS: Definitely. There’s no limit in terms of what we would do, if it seems right for the project and if it’s gonna accomplish our mission. One thing we’re always going to demand is multiple creative people have to come together to find that story together. It allows us to work with so many artists and affect so many artists. Particularly a project like Realization, where we had seven different writers on each chapter, and each chapter was directed by seven different directors: Even though it was one story, they each cast the characters the way they wanted. At the end of the day, there were over 200 artists—musicians, filmmakers, actors—involved in that project. That’s pretty cool to have a singular project that touches that many people.
AVC: It could also be pretty confusing.
JS: [Laughs.] I think it can be. It definitely would not be for everybody, but that’s part of the experiment, too: figuring out what does work and what doesn’t.
