Redefining the term "indie"

There is conflict among film buffs over the true meaning of the word "indie." I used to adhere to the idea that if you worked independent of the major studios, you were indie - plain and simple. But there is something more to it, the idea of the "independent spirit." This term implies that a filmmaker, regardless of how large or small his/her budget, works outside the boundaries of traditional film technique to create provocative and personal works that rethink the way movies are made and how they impact audiences.

As the American independent film movement has grown and developed over the past three decades, a new cinematic term was given birth: "art film." Since the 70's, there has, unfortunately, been a very THICK line between art and entertainment, and so to differentiate between mainstream pop entertainment and artistic cinema embodying the idea of an independent spirit, the term "art film" was designated. The problem, however, is that a true work of art is a living, evolving entity, and any attempts to confine a work of art to rigid genre trappings are absurd. Thus, the term "art film" has become just as cliche as "western," "comedy," or "horror," and has resulted in just as many genre stereotypes as any of its counterparts.

Today, Jim Jarmusch is generally considered the standard-bearer for American independent film. Despite the pleasure and intellectual satisfaction his films have given me ("Dead Man," especially), I do not consider Jarmusch to be a truly independent filmmaker. While his films are undoubtedly personal, unconventional, and remarkably inventive, he still panders to art critics and dilettantes by obligating himself to the standards of the contemporary "art film" instead of completely doing away with all prior cinematic conventions and starting completely anew.

The art film conventions culminated in last year's "Gerry," a tedious and ridiculously pretentious exercise in slow pacing, nature shots, and the obligatory mysterious journey embarked on by the central characters. I like Gus Van Sant, and so I didn't hate the film, but it panders to the very idea of what an art film should look, feel, and behave like. It's desire to cater to the demands of its target audience is no less shameless than "Saving Private Ryan."

I would argue that the true indie maverick of the past thirty years is Larry Cohen, the auteur behind such neglected gems as "Q: The Winged Serpent," "Black Caesar," and "It's Alive!" Cohen's work is a head-on collision of 50's science fiction schlock, exploitation films, comic book-style satire and sociopolitical analysis. From a strictly entertainment standpoint, Cohen's films are sloppy, with unconvincing special effect; he scoffs at those audience members who expect to be mindlessly diverted without having to deal with what he is clearly trying to achieve intellectually. From an artistic standpoint, Cohen challenges the very notion of cinematic art, and what an art film is supposed to look and feel like; these are not the kinds of movies serious filmgoers are "supposed to" watch.

I am not implying that Cohen is any better or worse than the favorite independent filmmakers of our time (Jarmusch, Tarantino, Van Sant, von Trier), simply that he embodies the idea of the "independent spirit" more fully. He collapses the walls between art and entertainment, and challenges the notions of both halves of the audience. In my humble opinion, this is what independent spirit is all about. It is easy to follow the rule book or to disobey it. It is not as easy to rewrite it.