I spoke to Maegan Houang, the filmmaker behind the gorgeous, moving short film, In Full Bloom. The film was in competition at the 4th Femme Filmmakers Festival, where Houang was honoured with the Maya Deren Short Film Innovation Prize.
*****
Robin Write: When did your love for film begin? What was it that inspired you?
Maegan Houang: I loved movies growing up but it didn’t occur to me until half-way through college that I could be a filmmaker. Once I got to Wesleyan University and started studying filmmaking, my classes showed me how wonderfully complex and interesting film as an art form can be. I just love watching films and thinking about how they work. Starting to make them felt like a natural extension of that.
How did you get to where you are now film-wise? What obstacles did you have to overcome?
I spent five years working as a Hollywood assistant, which although highly educational was also emotionally rough. Working as an assistant is an inherently unequal relationship. Assistants focus all their energy thinking about their boss and their boss’ needs while their boss usually rarely thinks about them. If they do, it’s certainly not to the same extent. The hours were also difficult and I was often working an average of 60 to 70 hours a week. Even though I worked that much, I was still producing my own content directing and producing music videos as well as writing. I basically force myself to work two full time jobs — my day job and doing creative work — and I find having the discipline to do that both very draining and difficult albeit necessary.
In Full Bloom, then, just how personal a story is this?
This film is very personal to me, but it’s not necessarily inspired by a single event in my life. I didn’t know my father’s mother very well because she passed away when I was twelve years old. Like many families who are part of the Asian diaspora, my father’s family went through a lot to try to give their children a better life. They survived World War II in Vietnam and China, the communist revolution in China and my grandmother’s siblings survived the Vietnam War.
There’s so many traumatic experiences they never told me about that I can only imagine –losing people you love, your culture, your home. Those were things I thought about making this, even though it’s just about one person.
Also, after my grandmother died, my grandfather developed severe dementia. After she passed away, his mind started to disappear. In some ways, the disappearance of all of their mutual belongings in the film is like losing a person’s memory.
There are many examples of symbolism here, what was your motivation behind the worms and the increasing hole? What other creative ideas did you consider?
I’ve always loved fairy tales and how fantasy can sometimes better reflect specific emotional states or experiences than a grounded drama. I wanted to make a film that elicited an experience from the audience, even if they didn’t always understand what every single thing meant, they left with a feeling.
The most fun part of film analysis or writing about any kind of art is that we are always constantly seeking words to describe something that cannot be described. It’s trying to figure out how to express why a specific shot or narrative choice or film moved me and being unable. If I could achieve that even in the smallest possible way for the audience, I would feel like the film was a success.
The casting is pretty unique, what was the process there?
I was committed to casting an older Vietnamese actress. My grandmother grew up in Vietnam and for the past five years I’ve been trying to explore more of her, and therefore my own, cultural history. Kieu Chinh is a phenomenal actress and I was incredibly lucky to work with her on this. She’s the consummate professional and never complained or bat an eyelash.
And the location was like a wonderland. What inspired such a cluster of beautiful things? And what was the collaboration like with art directors and set designers?
I wanted the location to visually reflect the subjective space that someone who cherishes their belongings feels about their belongings. When we watch a show like Hoarders, most of the houses look like a trash dump to us, but I imagine to the person hoarding, it’s a treasure trove that they love. Cecile, the main character, loves the life she built with her husband and all their joint possessions so I wanted the set to reflect the beauty of that love.
Emmy Eves, the production designer, did an incredible job. She spent weeks picking up free furniture and belongings to help create the world. We were in constant communication, whether we were talking or sharing images or showing each other things we found. We shot the film in an empty house so everything on screen was brought in, including the carpet.
I love production design and I love working with production designers. There’s so much about character and emotion that can be expressed in a space and I always want to take advantage of that.
What was the biggest challenge when shooting the film?
The biggest challenge shooting the film was figuring out how to create the black hole effect without using CGI. We didn’t have the budget for CGI and at first thought we could achieve the effect we wanted with miniatures. We soon realized it would be too difficult to replicate the set given that it was assembled in a piece-meal way so we decided to do everything practically on set. That meant using fishing wire and building life-sized holes that we pulled objects into. We built hole platforms and then composited them into the floor.
How do you view the current climate of female filmmakers? How can it get even stronger going forward?
The climate for female filmmakers is indisputably improving from a statistical standpoint — there are more films directed by women at major festivals every year — and that’s wonderful. I’d love to see a more diverse range of films by women produced. So many films are coming of age stories or grounded character dramas — where are the sci-fi, action and fantasy films? I’d also love to see more films that tell stories about women, especially historical fiction.
And short films? What makes them such an important part of the film world?
I believe short filmmaking is incredibly underrated. It’s very difficult to get an audience to invest in a character and a story in less than 10 minutes. The trend of making proof of concept short films for features is also disappointing to me. It removes the focus from making a strong short film that stands on its own and there’s such a beauty and art to that I’d hate to lose. Hopefully, people find more interesting ways to finance and distribute short films so they can better stand on their own.
What projects do you have coming up next? Do you have stories you desperately want to tell on film?
I’m currently working on a television show as a story editor, but I also have two other short films I’m hoping to make in the next year, but as usual it’s a question of financing. I have a feature film I’d love to get off the ground, but I’m a huge believer in experience and I’d love to make one more short film before diving into a longer form project.
