Tea time with Bird Dog

Interview with Katrina Whalen, director of Bird Dog

 What motivated you to tell this story for your graduation film? Is it significant that the bird is a mourning dove?
I wrote a version of this script as part of my school application for NYU Grad Film, a loose tone poem about a girl and her father out hunting. A few years later, while struggling with writer’s block on another project, I revisited the hunting scenes as an exercise. This time I focused on building a more classical narrative within the setting, and for once the writing came quick and easy. I jettisoned the other idea, and developed Bird Dog as a longer short. It was an interesting way to come full circle with my schooling.
It’s pretty easy to find some twisted symbolism in the shooting of doves, but the use of these birds in the film is a factual representation. Mourning doves are one of the most popular game birds in the US, hunted for both meat and sport, and dove hunts were a part of my childhood. I’ve been surprised since making the film how ubiquitous they are; we had a flock of them cozying up on our fire escape during editorial, which came in handy during the development of the dream sequence. Their song is so lovely and haunting, and the whistle of the their wings at takeoff is so sharp and distinct. These became an important part of the sound design.

 Can you tell us a bit more about where the film is set? What roles do nature and hunting play for the family?
The film is set at a hunting cabin in Wyoming that I’ve known since early childhood. Once a year a number of families would gather there for a weekend-long hunt. Water from a deep well hand pump, electricity from a generator hut, and plenty of freedom. We spent the early mornings in the field, and the rest of the day running around the woods – inventing games, looking for frogs, and chasing the cows that had wandered onto the property.
When I was looking seriously at shooting the script, I contacted the family friends who still own the property. They were very supportive of the project, and let us stay in and shoot at the cabin. I hadn’t been back there since I was maybe eleven or twelve, so returning was a jolt of inspired nostalgia. I’m lucky that the cast and crew were as game as I was to be in the middle of nowhere for nearly two weeks with such limited resources, facing the fickle Wyoming weather – 85°F one day, snowing the next.
Spending time in the trees and the sagebrush is a way to feel grounded in such an overwhelming landscape, and for many of the people I knew growing up, hunting was very much a part of life and a way to bond with family. These activities are completely foreign to most of the people I’ve met in my adult life, so it was important to me to depict this aspect of American culture devoid of any political implications.

 Are there any autobiographical elements in the film?
My family had terrible luck with hunting dogs when I was young. An Irish Setter, a golden retriever, a black lab – all beautiful dogs, all complete cowards. And so because our dogs all failed out of hunting school, I became my father’s bird dog. I was never comfortable shooting, but I loved the time out in the fields. We would walk together, he would shoot, and I would dash out to retrieve the birds. It was a thrilling challenge for me when I was seven or eight. It seemed totally natural to me at the time; it wasn’t until later when I told some college friends and saw the horror on their faces that I realized this isn’t a widely practiced rite of childhood. This is the seed that brought the script into being, that and the day at the hunting camp that some of us swallowed dove hearts to prove our mettle. The rest of Rosie’s story is her own, one that came together on the page.

 What film genres and formats are you interested in exploring now that you’ve graduated?
I love westerns. The good ones say as much about history as they do about the time when they are made. Mixed in with the horses and the landscapes are questions of morality and mortality, of establishing personal culpability and communal responsibility in the wilderness. I’m fascinated by the way that the mythology of the old west has shaped the psychology of the modern west, and want to explore the place that this classic genre has in our current storytelling landscape.

 Any cinematic coups de cœur in the past year you’d like to tell us about?
I recently saw a restoration of Giant in a theater, which knocked me out. Sandra Hüller’s performance has stuck with me in the months since I saw Toni Erdmann, and I was really impressed with The Witch. It was exciting to see Hell or High Water make the waves it did. Otherwise, this past year I’ve been pretty smitten with in-camera effects, Randolph Scott, Ida Lupino, and Robert Mitchum.

 If you’ve already been to Clermont-Ferrand, could you share with us an anecdote or story from the festival? If not, what are your expectations for this year? 
This will be my first time at the festival, so I’m eager to soak it all up. It’s thrilling to attend such a supportive festival dedicated to the short form, where a theater is named for Agnès Varda, and the central office building is named for La Jetée. 

 Are you taking part in other events during the Clermont-Ferrand Short Film Festival? (Espressos, Conferences, other?)
I’m really looking forward to the Espressos and to the Black Humor programs, and want to check out the happenings at the Atelier.

Bird Dog is being shown in International Competition I6.