Illustration by Andreas Hykade. Courtesy of Chris Robinson.

I was bothered all during the Ottawa festival. Ryan was in competition. I was glad to have it. It deserved to be there. Figured it was equally good to have Ryan Larkin there too. A homecoming of sorts. I even arranged to have Ryan’s film Walking, shown. But the week uncovered some of what I expressed in an earlier Pimp this year about Larkin. I had felt guilty about Landreth and me exploiting Larkin’s life to face our own demons. That doesn’t bother me so much now. I was an alcoholic and Ryan represented a road that I might very well travel down. In exchange, I invited him to the festival and offered a place where maybe he’d get inspired and want to change the structure of his life. In the end, I quit drinking, but he got worse. I didn’t know it was worse until he got to Ottawa this year.

From the time he awoke till the time he stumbled to his hotel the guy drank. He needed constant supervision — which meant either me, Landreth, David Miller (NFB publicist) or Petr Maur (our graphic designer and festival driver). We keep feeding him with beers to keep him happy, kept making beer and smokes runs, anything to stop him from flipping out. Of course, by late afternoon, he’d be pissed, incomprehensible, emotional and just generally fucked up. We might as well have shot him. We were just feeding him poison anyway.

As much as I enjoyed watching Ryan piss on the streets of Ottawa in broad daylight, there were times when I wanted to grab him and slap some sense into him. Tell him to stop playing these ridiculous games, stop being such a child and take some responsibility for his life. At night he took his bows and people applauded, approached, shook his hand like he was royalty. We got plenty of media coverage — included a primo national TV spot. Isn’t this what I wanted? A little give and take, right? It’s all wrong. It’s all fucked up. Ryan’s not a hero. He was never a hero to me. He was a guy who had gone down a road that I very, very easily could have followed... and maybe I would have if I hadn’t met him. But that same year I also met Michele Cournoyer and Paul Fierlinger. They had recovered. They had been sober for about 17 and 10 years respectively. I wrote about them too. They were absolutely pivotal figures as much if not more than Ryan… and yet here we were four years later, Michele’s almost 20 years sober, has a new film (Accordion).

Fierlinger’s about 14 years sober, has a new film (A Room Nearby) that wins one of the Grand Prizes but nothing is said of them. Did you KNOW that Fierlinger was diagnosed with cancer in 2002? While winning that battle… he and Sandra (wife and collaborator) made A Room Nearby! Holy criminy. Why isn’t Fierlinger getting standing ovations? Instead here we are celebrating the life of this guy who will die from alcoholism, who cannot and will not change… We are more interested in him than with these two people who OVERcame some major demons and forged successful and satisfying new roads.

Or, hey… forget the alcohol angle altogether. Last year, five directors (including Michele Cournoyer) were relieved of their full time staff spots at the NFB. Two of those were Jacques Drouin and Co Hoedeman. They were at the board for almost 30 years. They quietly went about their work, producing acclaimed films and living their lives. Co, it should be known, has helped care for his wife’s daughter and grandchildren for years… the guy, from all accounts, is a loving, toting grandfather… basically a father to these kids. He works to help support them. I’ve never been a fan of Drouin or Hoedeman’s films… and I’ve had my share of conflicts with both… but I can’t help but think of them right now. These guys who were part of Larkin’s generation… who were at the NFB with Larkin, but who followed the path Ryan did not.