Bingo (1998), an earlier work by Landreth, was a visual adaptation of a live theater performance.

GS: Is it a fear of failure, or a fear of not having anything to say?

CL: Well, in this case it’s both, with not having anything to say being the same as failing.

GS: In the film, you encourage Ryan to start creating again, and he wonders, even if he did have something to say, who would listen?

CL: He’s saying something a little more pointed and defensive. He’s saying that he doesn’t create because he’ll be ripped off, like someone will just take his ideas and not give him credit, and not give him money.

GS: Has Ryan had a chance to see your film? What were his impressions?

CL: He was quite stunned at first. We showed it to him twice. The second time we showed it, he was just loving it, actually. It was very much a high moment for me, because it wouldn’t have been the same if he looked at it and said, “Oh my God, that’s dreadful.” He was disturbed by his appearance, but then on the second showing came to realize that everyone had that disconnected, distorted appearance.

GS: What does he think of the accolade surrounding the film, now that it is being received so favorably at festivals?

CL: The last time I talked to him was the night we had received three awards from our showing at the Cannes Film Festival. His immediate reaction was to caution me about eating food in all of these foreign places that we go.

GS: Does it surprise him that people care about him?

CL: It seems like he’s delighted... I think that he knows a whole new generation of people are looking at his stuff. I think he would like to get back into doing something creative. I hope he does.

GS: What kind of fellowship do you feel with Ryan, whose short films have won festival honors and been nominated for an Academy Award? How has Ryan's story informed your relationship with your own art?

CL: First of all, I do feel very much a kinship with Ryan. He is 20 years older than I am. In some ways I look at his life, and there’s something very reassuring about it. He’s basically followed Murphy’s Law as an artist [if something can go wrong, it will]. If you look at his life now — yeah, he’s poor, he’s sort of on the bottom rung of society — but, on the other hand, he has in many ways a very positively structured life. He has a community of dozens of people who, if they don’t know that he is an artist, at least know that he’s a decent guy, and they take care of him. He has a community of people that a lot of us would find enviable.

Landreth’s producing partner on Ryan, the National Film Board of Canada, has a rich history of backing important works such as Norman McLaren’s Neighbours/Voisins without regard to box office profitability. © 1952 Nationa

GS: In the film, during your moment of temporary angelic good intention, one of Ryan's contentions is that, without money, what can anyone do artistically? As a corollary to this question, he broaches the issue of why bother to create at all when there is no “market” for it? Do you share this sentiment and/or frustration?

CL: I am fortunate enough to have, as a producer on this film, a moviemaking entity in the form of the National Film Board [NFB], which produces films that are part of the consciousness of at least the people in Canada, and I think a lot of people throughout the world know and love the artistry of animation from people like Norman McLaren through Ryan Larkin and Caroline Leaf and Derek Lamb, and this pantheon of great animators that came out of the NFB. But these animated films that they produce are not money-makers in the sense that studio feature films are. There is, sadly, no market for that kind of thing. You can’t turn a profit from doing short films like these. I don’t think it has to be that way, but it is. The way that television is set up, the way that theatrical showings are set up, you can’t really do a film like Ryan, or Ryan’s Walking, or Norman McLaren’s Neighbours (1952) without losing money. Fortunately, the National Film Board, while not making money on these films, puts them out, and they’re great contributions to the art of filmmaking.