Synopsis: Weaving together film, music and poetry, Last of Our Kind transforms the memory of a lost love into a ritualistic incantation of longing. Action is exaggerated and time seems to blur, as the lovers’ tale unfolds poetically into a modern interpretation of the Persephone myth.
Shot entirely on super-8, the movie traces a poem, line by line, throughout the city of Seattle in sequences of time-lapse photography blended with live-action that collapse and rearrange time and events into memories. Shot as a silent film, Last of Our Kind features an original soundtrack created by Robin Guthrie (co-founder of the band Cocteau Twins) interwoven with a voiceover recitation of Rick Linville’s poem.
Winner Best Short Film Award:
United States Super 8 Film + Digital Video Festival
|Seattle Transmedia & Independent Film Festival
|OCAT Contemporary Art Terminal
|Columbia Gorge International Film Festival
|Cine a la Calle Festival
|Festival Chileno Internacional del Cortometraje de Santiago
|Oaxaca Film Fest
|Nemzetközi Super 8mm Fesztivál
|San Francisco Frozen Film Festival
|San Francisco, CA
|6th Philadelphia Independent Film Festival
|Contemporary Art Ruhr Media Art Fair
|Twin Rivers Media Festival
|Experimental Film Festival Portland
|Experiments in Cinema v8.53
|9th Berlin International Directors Lounge
|United States Super 8 Film + Digital Video Festival
|NewFilmmakers Winter Festival 2013
|New York, NY
|Magikal Charm Experimental Film & Video Festival
|New York, NY
|Mississippi International Film Festival
Last of Our Kind is based on this original poem written by Rick Linville and edited by Reed O'Beirne:
The streets were filled with
the discarded bodies of men.
Non dulce et decorum pro patria mori est.
The ejaculated tempos of beauty.
From the little cloisters of smoke the heat-day arises.
She leans over delicately, with her little backpack, and looks at the men
in the boat.
I was the nuovo Ucello.
We met in the little house of a retired couple like the characters of La Tour
meeting in total blankness, total darkness.
She cheated at cards.
She cheated at coquette.
When she called it was as "the last ballerina to appear on the radio".
Somewhat expensive, but our little joke.
The words, an illusion,
lasted just for a moment.
I would meet her at the Mermaid cafe, usually at seven.
There was a lot of drinking in those days.
Wines, dry, colorless, and soundless too.
Night after night they were right there inside me.
It is sad and regrettable to speak of them.
It was all that I knew.
Everything was contained in one bleary monotonous movement.
That small street where she lived.
Red Square, which she haunted.
After Allowing Satan a Job, later love became "what comes after."
She purified herself of everything. Even that.
Every night I would look down, attempt to remember.
If the shutters were boiling.
If the city was choked with long lines of trucks and cars.
"Buona sera! We've kept
your table for you.
It's for you we've been waiting!"
We sat at our table at the Mermaid and like so many people we attempted philosophy.
We were like grand engineers.
She went out for a cigarette and never came back. Her reproof.
A mortal blow she religiously mistook for certainty.
A face like the back of a forge.
She crossed the courtyard,
open-toed, in high-heeled shoes.
There are criteria for the lights growing dim.
The slenderness of a halo.
A small flame.
The image of a man, crushed, worn out.
The foreshadowing of an event long since coming as if it were already gone.
All around us the city
kept building, heliphones, telecopters, computers.
Triclinium luna est.
A strange brightness
We were the last of our kind.
There are intervals in life which, unmarried to form and closer to our true
selves, are in particular how we remember.
This is only this.
Indiegogo Project Page from 2011
Completed with the generous assistance of many who provided encouragement, advice, services, expertise, supplies and/or financial contributions, including:
911 media arts center artist in residence program, and Abhishek Kumar, Alexis Ferris, Amanda Kay Helmick, Andrej Gregov, Andy Epperson, Andy McAllister, Athena WiseNrich, Bad Animals, Barbara Ireland, Barnaby Dorfman, Ben Ireland, Bernadette Roberts, Betsy Wills, Bob Anderton; Brad, Peter, Gretchen, Cory, Jesus and the rest of the staff and volunteers at 911 Media Arts Center; Carolyn Alcorn, Cirque d'Flambe, Classic Helicopters, Darren Lepke, Dave Hanagan, David Gortner, David Pfluger, Emma Jones, Eric Greene, Forde Motion Picture Labs, Gidon Coussin, Greg Carlson, Holly Deye, Hunter Williams, Igor Peev, Jake Freeman, Jamie O'Beirne, Jennifer Hillman, Jim Roche, John Canning, John Choi, John Gibbons, Jon MacLaren, Karen Oesterle, Karin Hedlund, Kathryn Motschman, Kristian St. Clair, Lex Gjurasic, Light Press, Lisa Hammond, Lisa Mei Ling Fong, MagicalSpain.com, Marlow & April Green, Mateo Messina, Matthew Hanover, Matty McCaslin and the staff at Julia's on Broadway, Maxime Bridoux, Melanie Bonanno, Morgan Wright, Parinita Salian, Peet Duffy, Rachel LordKenaga, Robin Guthrie, Sarah Gibbons, Sarah Kavage, Sarah Pralle, Scott Larson, Shanna Preve, Shawn Van Ness, Sue Corcoran, Tamara Turner and The Skansonia Ferryboat, Ted Grudowski, The Kalakala, The O'Beirne Family, Tina O'Sullivan, Trish Van Heusen, Vermillion Gallery, Victory Studios, and the Washington Wheat Growers Association.
All Material © Reed O'Beirne 2012