Observational documentary is a form of cinema that remains largely unfunded due to the unpredictable nature of the work: you literally cannot know what will happen next. The way Jakeb Anhvu utilises this form encapsulates the spontaneity of life, an awkward humour within the mundane, and presents life as life itself; one mammoth of a conversation. So when I, Laneikka (18) from Film In Revolt got to speak with Jakeb Anhvu about his latest documentary feature A Hundred Years of Happiness premiering at Sydney Film Festival 2020, you could say I was excited to discuss with Anhvu how “you cannot write life.”
Laneikka: Well, where do I start? I bloody loved it. You captured this sense of familiarity through Tram and her community which really resonated with me, even though I have lived a completely different life. Did the way you choose to tell this story, reflect at all on your own family life?
Jakeb: Well, my background is first generation Australian. Hearing stories of my parents and how they were afraid to go to a new country after the war, alike many immigrants in Australia, was a large influence for me. To capture this, everything, all the cut-away shots were filmed within a couple kilometres around Tram’s family home. I was tempted to film beautiful scenery and touristy spots but I wanted to keep everything around their neighbourhood, as life varies village to village. I think that helps us get to know them, if we know where they live, we know how they will react.
So, you obviously can’t “cast” for a project like this. What was the process of finding Tram’s story?
Originally, we had several documentary scripts and draft concepts, these were written years before filming and before we began to focus on a particular character. Some of the concepts followed two characters at the same time.
Some of the concepts followed two characters at the same time, another concept was following a Korean man travelling to Vietnam to find a bride and so we were quite open to finding the character who would lead this film. We actually went to several cities around the Mekong area and some of them weren’t even on the map. You had to meet one person who introduced you to another person and another, it was just referral. You had to be very social with everyone and I think it was about five people, five different introductions before we even got to meet Tram.
Wow. So how long did it take? The process of finding Tram?
It took around four months before we found her, we even filmed different people beforehand but it turns out they weren’t what we were looking for. It takes a long time because as you said you can’t just find them online, we were quite afraid we would not be successful and it’s very stressful trying to find the right person.
Could you tell me a little more about the first woman you filmed for the documentary, before you found Tram?
There were many factors on why she wasn’t what we were looking for; she wasn’t very vocal or engaging and we wanted someone who would show their personality more, it also wasn’t financially viable as she was too far away and in the wrong region that we wanted to film. We felt that we had to relate to the character, with Tram’s family we became friends and talked to the family. That helped a lot in making sure we picked the right character.
Do you think being so heavily involved in Tram’s community, living with them and sharing meals informed way you shot the film, from this almost observer-like gaze?
I’m probably going to contradict myself here. I agree, but at the same time we had to be invisible. In the beginning, we would just follow them and if they weren’t doing anything we’d take cut-away shots to get them comfortable in front of the camera. It takes a couple of ways for you to kind of disappear and then the filming really starts. In one sense you’re part of the family, in another, you have to be separated.
Could you go into more detail about the day to day life of filming in Tram’s community?
Well we followed them for five months, we would arrive at their house in the morning, it’s a forty minute walk, carrying all our equipment because the house isn’t on the map at all. We would greet them, have tea with them and then start filming. Some days it would be a couple of hours, other days we’d be there just before it got dark.
Earlier you spoke about the idea of being invisible while filming. Did you communicate with them or did you try to minimise your own interference?
No, we had dinner with them, we spoke to them… there were definitely a lot of times when the camera wasn’t on. When we’d start filming, for about an hour I’d take cut-away shots to get them used to it and we’d just blend in. But we were part of their family too, on days we weren’t filming we’d hang out, play cards and speak about ourselves, lots of interaction.
What were those days off like?
A lot of the time we would follow them to the farm, sit around peeling peas, cooking, shopping, things like that. We weren’t actually that much help but we were being part of the process, following them around. Likewise, what we see in the film is them farming, cooking and shopping to show how they are and their lives.
On a similar note, some of the conversations in the film feel as if we’re there with these people. How many hours goes into crafting one of these scenes from the film?
On this film I was not only director but also sound, camera and editor. I think the technical side to that was more difficult and time consuming than the storytelling. It took about a year and a half to two years, after multiple drafts to finish the film. I actually had two producers help with this film; an ex co-worker friend of mine and, my friend Matt, who was a co-writer on the film. None of us work in the film industry, we worked on this during the weekends and at night, so I didn’t feel as alone in putting it together. Though, the hard thing with observational documentaries is that you don’t actually know when to stop filming.
Wait, that’s so true.. how do you know when to stop filming when there’s no end? How did you overcome that?
Yeah, this time we were a bit lucky because we knew that there might be an end, when she gets married and goes overseas, but that event is occurring in real time. She’s not famous, her story isn’t based on any historical event that’s already happened. This film is based on her experiences, so we were lucky that we had some type of closure. And we thought when she leaves the parents was the best way to end it, and at the time we didn’t know when she was going to go overseas as well, we just had to stick around and see what happens.
Is that what you love about observational documentaries? You don’t know what’s coming next?
I was really influenced by the film style, when I was growing up, I saw the film Late Spring (1949). It’s this Japanese film directed by Yasujirō Ozu. Nowadays I just want to have people in a documentary have a conversation. I don’t want to use too many audio grabs and short quotes. I want them to have a conversation from beginning to end. In the film there’s a scene where the men from the village sit around having a conversation while drinking, I wanted to capture the whole event, the whole conversation. I wanted to see a group of people interviewing each other, not me.
You’ve already touched on your influences, but I want to know more about what you believe influenced your decision become a documentarian?
As a child I was heavily influenced by fables, growing up I really enjoyed fables and folklore and fantasy films. It’s quite different to documentary but I was also a collector, when I was younger I loved to collect things, then I moved into photography as a hobby and naturally progressed into collecting videos, then collecting memories… for documentary.
What have you learned from making this documentary?
I don’t think I can do another observational documentary. For me it’s a really hard, long process and takes years of preparation. This film is the last one in a collection of three that I wanted to do. So now it’s time for something fresh, a new style. I’m not sure what that is yet.
And finally, what advice would you give to young filmmakers and documentarians?
At film school I didn’t really have a lot of film experience, my enthusiasm is what got me through it. I wanted to film something whether there was funding or not, whether I had experience or not. And I was advised from an early stage, the easiest thing to do is to find a story that relates to you, normally your family and that’s what I did. My first film I did at university was about my grandfather. My first feature was about my dad and in a roundabout way, this film is inspired by my mother. She didn’t have an arranged marriage, but she had to marry at a young age. She had to come to Australia as a refugee and start a new life with three kids under five. I’d say enthusiasm for the work and being influenced by what you know is most important.
Thank you Jakeb, I’ve had a great time learning about what I believe is the toughest form of not only documentary but filmmaking itself. I hope the form of observational documentary makes a comeback as it’s probably the realest form of filmmaking since… you really can’t ‘write life’.