Pubdate: Sat, 14 Sep 2002
Source: Vancouver Sun (CN BC)
Copyright: 2002 The Vancouver Sun
Contact:  http://www.canada.com/vancouver/vancouversun/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/477
Author: Katherine Monk, Vancouver Sun
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/heroin.htm (Heroin)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/hr.htm (Harm Reduction)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?142 (Safe Injecting Rooms)

WILD'S LOOK AT ADDICTS' LIVES BREAKS STEREOTYPES

TORONTO -- Nettie Wild strides across the floor of her hotel room in her 
bathrobe, moving from the bed covered in tidy stacks of paper, to the 
bathroom, and back again, with an unmistakable sense of purpose.

She may be collecting hairpins. She may be collecting press notes and 
contact numbers to offer prospective film buyers. Regardless of the task, 
Wild seems to do everything with an unmistakable sense of purpose and 
passion -- and it's become a hallmark of her oeuvre.

 From her radio documentaries for CBC, to her body of award-winning films 
such as A Rustling of Leaves, Blockade and A Place Called Chiapas, Wild has 
carved out a reputation as one of Canada's most socially committed film-makers.

Her latest film, FIX: The Story of an Addicted City, is yet another 
consciousness-raising piece, but this time, she's not chronicling a 
revolution in some far-flung part of the world -- she's bearing witness to 
a tragedy taking place in her own backyard: the so-called "drug problem" on 
Vancouver's Downtown Eastside.

The documentary features three main characters -- Dean Wilson, a former IBM 
salesman and drug addict who heads VANDU (the Vancouver Area Network of 
Drug Users); Ann Livingston, a non-user and VANDU organizer who has found 
spiritual purpose in the fight to make things better for the thousands of 
Vancouver users at risk of becoming the next statistic, and Mayor Philip 
Owen, who tried to introduce a four pillar drug strategy modelled after 
successful European programs -- and found himself pushed out of office by 
his own party as a result.

As Wild cruises through the hotel room getting ready for the FIX premiere 
at the Toronto International Film Festival, Livingston and Wilson walk 
through the door.

Livingston puts down her Chanel bag packed with freebie makeup -- one of 
the perks of being a festival guest -- and flops on the one bed not covered 
in press kits. Dean sits down in a chair and pours a glass of red fruit 
smoothie.

Within minutes, producer Betsy Carson walks in and everyone starts putting 
on their party clothes. Wild says the mayor would have been here too, but 
he had a scheduling conflict.

"It's a pyjama party," says Wild, who decided to fly her "talent" in for 
the festival using her own resources. Yes, Wild calls the subjects of her 
documentary "talent" -- the term normally used to refer to professional 
actors in a feature film -- but that's because Wild sees FIX as more of an 
emotional narrative than a documentary. In that end, she also hired local 
editor Reg Harkema to turn the 357 40-minute tapes that were shot over the 
course of two years into a cohesive 92-minute movie journey.

"I always hire dramatic editors for the films, but I thought it was time I 
finally brought in a Vancouver editor," says Wild. "What sold me on Reg was 
his cut of Hard Core Logo. I thought it was superb. Oddly enough, he said 
he was inspired by Peter Wintonick's cut of A Rustling of Leaves."

Wild says most people in Vancouver, and for that matter most of Canada, are 
vaguely aware of the city's drug crisis, but no one has been moved enough 
to pressure government for safe injections sites or other harm-reduction 
initiatives.

For that reason, she didn't think it would help to make a film that was 
simply a journey past the political checkpoints -- where the frightening 
statistic of more than 1,200 overdose deaths over the course of 10 years 
wouldn't have a human draw.

Livingston and Wilson are the human draw, and as they sit here in the hotel 
room they're sharing with Wild, they seem completely unfazed by the 
festival schmooziness that surrounds them.

Like Wild, their minds are fixed on getting the message out to the masses.

"I think the great thing about Nettie's film is that it breaks the 
Hollywood stereotype of what heroin addicts are. They aren't different from 
other people," says Wilson.

"I see the film as a tool," says Livingston. "We have a chance at reaching 
the critical audience. We can set up table in the lobby. We can let people 
know that in Vancouver alone we have 3,000 dead people just from overdoses 
... and nothing has happened. People think because they hear the term 
harm-reduction that it's actually happening, but it's not. Toronto doesn't 
have nearly the same death rate and they have a harm-reduction task force."

Wilson and Livingston have been repeating the bleak numbers, the horror 
stories and the pitch for safe injection sites so many times it permeates 
almost every conversation -- even something as empty and banal as film 
festival chit chat.

So how do you feel when you see yourselves on screen, I finally ask, 
seeking the lowest common denominator.

"It's kind of embarrassing," says Livingston. "I'm not used to seeing 
myself. It's hard for me to tell if the movie is even any good. I have no 
distance. I don't know, I'm just not sure if I'm comfortable having people 
see me hanging out in the kitchen in my nightie. I'm a bit worried about my 
dad seeing it -- he'll find out I go to church."

The room erupts with laughter.

"The press has asked me what I'm doing making a documentary about Vancouver 
- -- there's no revolution going on there," says Wild. "And I say, just you 
wait. It's starting."

FIX: The Story of an Addicted City will have a special benefit screening as 
part of Mayor Owen's farewell from office on Oct. 16. Tickets are $100 and 
will go toward drug education and getting the film into classrooms across 
the country. Fix opens theatrically in Vancouver on Oct. 18.
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MAP posted-by: Jackl