“State” and “State (Remix)” started with an article about one of the darkest, most decisive events in American history. It grew into a story about two characters: an old man and a young man. The old man is guilt ridden from his involvement in that monumental event and slowly succumbs to the burden decades later, while the young man, a veteran struggling to come to grips with his own trauma, seeks out his estranged girlfriend. Anguish and despair can reveal themselves in the most unexpected ways.
The script developed with the idea that our personal and shared histories are not always distinguishable. Allusions to the old man’s past coupled with the pain of his lost family life added to the intimacy and compounded the tragedy. Manifestations of the young man’s trauma, suffered while on active duty, elevated the story to a broader perspective on history. The parallel montage sequences bind these character’s journeys.
The young man’s story is a psychological thriller, the obstacles are both internal and external: murder, war, trauma, reality, and love. The old man’s story is a brooding suspense, the obstacles are internal: memory, guilt, suicide, and death.
The basic action is like two trains on a collision course: the old man preparing to commit suicide and the young man hanging onto reality, obsessed with reaching his girlfriend. To the old man, the shame and the feeling of abandonment are unbearable, while to the young man, reality itself has become unknowable. Ultimately, their journeys lead to a violent reckoning.
State (Remix) is intended to communicate the experience of descending into a cave underwater and finding twilight at the edge of an opening. While this film has trauma, violence, and death, it is about transition, misunderstanding and letting go; how holding onto a specific vision of the world can be far more damaging than accepting how surreal it is.
While the story is focused on very few characters, I did not approach it as a “small” film. I wanted to take risks and experiment, to be uncompromising in every moment and see how deeply I could connect with each audience member. There is a quote that helped guide me through the entire post-production process. I remember the feeling from when I read it, it was instantaneous. As if some opaque understanding of cinema coalesced above my mind and permeated my consciousness in the clearest, most concise way: “And so time becomes the very foundation of cinema: as sound is in music, colour in painting, character in drama.” (Andrey Tarkovsky, Sculpting in Time)
Doing all the post-production on my own was one of the most challenging experiences of my entire life. I feel like I swam through the nebulous recesses of my subconscious: submerged in a battle between the mythical gods, demons and doppelgängers of my imagination, confronted with and by the vengeful spirit of my own soul; often paralyzed by the uncertainty of knowing whose side I was on. I wish I could put it more simply, or less insanely, but it is the best description I can give at this moment. There were times when I wanted to destroy the film and others when I felt that it was the most beautiful thing imaginable. I hope that you can catch a glimpse of that when you watch.
