Grandma

As I have indicated previously, making a documentary about your family presents its own unique challenges and obstacles. Some, like those of my grandmother, are surmountable only by grace.

Soon after I decided to film “a final peace”, my grandmother was diagnosed in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. Her behavior had become erratic and she was inclined to unpredictable outbursts of emotion. In spite of this, her long-term memory seemed unaffected. She could easily recall moments from the past, 20, 30, and even 50 years previous.

Still, I questioned whether it was appropriate to subject her to the kind of questioning needed for the film. I feared that she would become overly emotional or even confrontational, or that she might not be able to remember anything.

At the same time, I realized she was critical to Tom’s story. As his mother, she had an understanding of his childhood and early adulthood that were irreplaceable.

Moreover, I recognized that my window of opportunity to interview her was rapidly closing. Soon her disease would begin to seriously affect her disposition and memory.

Ultimately, it was due to her insistence that she participate that my concerns were overcome; and I can only say now that I am glad for it. The witness my grandmother gave about her son was the first words she had said on the matter in over a decade, and they were probably her last.

The shoot was to be my first, EVER, as director and cinematographer. My crew was comprised of two film students, who I had taught to use the sound and lighting equipment, my daughter Sophie, and her friend Nolan (neither had ever worked on a film set). I was responsible for conducting the interview.

The location, the chapel at my grandmother’s retirement home, was selected for its obvious irony. I was about to reveal my grandmother’s complicity in the abuse of her daughter Tina and son, Tommy. I thought the religious motif would give the scene an added ‘density’.

If that sounds clinical, it’s because it is. It was during this interview that I realized the importance of detaching myself emotionally from what was being said. From the very beginning the content was extremely personal and emotional. At one point during the interview, I almost broke down crying. Viewing the process from a mostly ‘creative’ standpoint gave me space to hear what was being said without necessarily feeling it. Of course, this only worked to a point.

After the interview was over, I hugged my grandmother and we cried together for several minutes. It wasn’t a cathartic moment in the usual sense. We had only opened the infected wound. We hadn’t yet removed the dead tissue or treated it. That would come later. Still, in many ways it marked an important beginning for the film, and of the journey that was about to unfold.

I have not spoken to my grandmother since the interview.  I understand that she is well and is proud of me, and “a final peace”.  For that I am extremely grateful.  Despite her many failures, the interview revealed that she had also been a victim, and that the loss of her son had affected her more than anyone knew.