CREATIVE FINANCE
Filmmaker Denis Côté
Montreal has long been a hub for creative innovators, entrepreneurs and artists. In this column, Brendan Kelly offers a snapshot of individuals pushing the boundaries of their field, looking at how they’ve managed their relationship with money in order to “make it” in their chosen domain.
Name: Denis Côté
Occupation: Filmmaker
Length of career: 20 years Savings: Yes
Assets: Rents a small apartment in the McGill ghetto. “No house, no car, no driver’s licence, no luxury, no chalet. No family fortune.”
SEED MONEY
Côté, one of Canada’s most acclaimed art-house filmmakers, was working at the HMV record store downtown in 1999 when some friends told him the alternative weekly ICI was looking for someone to write film reviews.
Côté, 25 at the time, was reluctant at first but finally went to see the film they wanted reviewed and brought his floppy diskette down to the ICI offices. Soon enough, he was in charge of the paper’s film section and was making $34,000 a year.
“I became a journalist by accident,” Côté said in a recent interview. “I wanted to be a filmmaker.”
He was directing arty short films on the side, making them for as little as $8,000. Then in 2004, he landed a Canada Council grant for $40,000.
He and two pals headed out in a truck to James Bay and improvised Les états nordiques, his first feature. It won a prize at the Locarno Film Festival and travelled the world film-fest circuit (playing more than 80 festivals), like all of his subsequent films.
He won a prize worth $10,000 at a Korean film fest with Les états nordiques, and decided to make another movie with that dough.
“That became the weirdo film in Bulgarian,” said Côté. “It was a bit of a stunt.”
That film, Our Private Lives, also toured the fest circuit.
“That’s when (Quebec film-funding agency) SODEC and (federal funder) Telefilm Canada came to me and they said, ‘Hey, you’ve never come and submitted any film projects to us!’
“I said, ‘It’s coming.’ And I sent them a proposal for Elle veut le chaos. No questions asked, they gave me $1 million. So I had my first ‘professional’ film where I actually got a salary. I probably got around $80,000.”
Then he made Carcasses for almost no money. That odd film — which features non-professional actors and is about a guy who runs a scrapyard — went to the Cannes Film Festival.
THE STEADY PAYCHEQUE
Then came Curling, also budgeted at $1 million, and once again Côté pulled in a salary of around $80,000.
“Keep in mind, there’s not much time between these films,” he said. “Some people, you give them $80,000, they can live three years. Me, I got $80,000 one year and then just over a year later I got another $80,000. So you can live all right. Others have a family, a condo, a cottage. Me, I have a very simple life. I have an apartment. I don’t have a family. I don’t have a house, I don’t have a car.”
He shot 2012’s Bestiaire, a strange animal documentary filmed at Parc Safari, financed with a $40,000 arts grant. He says it has had the most success of any of his films.
“You make a film for $40,000, in a zoo, with no screenplay, and then it goes all round the world,” said Côté.
“You feel kind of invincible.”
THE BIG PAYOFF
Next up was Vic + Flo ont vu un ours, his biggest-budget outing yet, with a price tag of $2.2 million.
“I do one big film, one small one,” said Côté. “I buy my own freedom.”
After another no-budget flick, Que ta joie demeure, he again segued to a pricier picture, Boris sans Béatrice, which also cost $2.2 million. His next low-budget outing, Ta peau si lisse, was actually turned down by SODEC. That didn’t seem to have any impact, as it went on to play 75 festivals, including the New York, Locarno and London film fests.
“So when I came with (his latest film) Répertoire des villes disparues, it was once again ‘no questions asked’ at SODEC and Telefilm,” said Côté. “Telefilm even told me they don’t finance me because of my box office — they like the international profile, and that’s normal. They like that there are left-field auteurs like me. They need us. And if I can play that role for them, it’s a pleasure.
“I’m dangerously free. It scares some people. It provokes admiration from others. It’s a double-edged sword.
“The day that I stop writing films, I won’t have any other jobs in television. I don’t do commercials. I have never had a phone call from someone wanting me to direct a commercial or a TV series. I make the industry a little afraid. I am on the margins, but at the same time I’m very respected.”
People on the street sometimes come up to Côté with a bit of a smirk and wonder how he pays the rent with his off-kilter films. But he does.
“If your name is Joe Miller and you come to the funders with Répertoire des villes disparues, it won’t work,” said Côté. “But if your name is Denis Côté, they’ll say, ‘Yeah, it’s weird, but he tours the world with his films. We can count on this guy to represent us internationally.’ It isn’t that mysterious.”
THE PLUG
Répertoire des villes disparues has its world première in competition at the Berlin International Film Festival on Monday, and opens across Quebec on Friday. bkelly@postmedia.com twitter.com/ brendanshowbiz