These articles made it past David’s publicity people.
NFF: Your film Laurels pokes fun at the festival world. Have you had bad festival experiences to draw from, or is this all imagination?
David: Artist egos are so fragile, and my characters, one a notable feature director and the other a newbie short film director, react quite differently to their film festival granting them a shared hotel room. I love going to film festivals because the audiences, filmmakers, and programmers are so great, but there’s a side of festivals, especially from afar, that creates prestige which can overshadow the celebration. We artists sometimes get distracted by the validation that comes with selection and awards.
View article here.
“Flavien’s Statement House, as erected in the gallery’s courtyard, is a beautiful blush pink, its interior illuminated by a round skylight. But physical attributes do not describe this house, rather, its inherent mutability does. By inviting two screenwriters, David L Brundige and Max Kopelowicz, to man a Twitter feed that serves as an ongoing ‘script’ for the house, Flavien explores the possibilities of language, humour and spontaneity in conjuring architecture and daily domestic life.”
“Wallpaper*” article here.
“A US filmmaker is producing a short film highlighting problems in the Cambodian school system – featuring a young fisherman who turns to crime in order to pay for an education – with hopes to turn it into a full-length feature…To complete the project, Brundige partnered with World Assistance for Cambodia, an NGO that has built more than 550 schools in rural areas across the Kingdom, and the Ministry of Education, who helped scout the location for the construction of a rural school.”
Read the Phnom Penh Post article here.
‘I never introduced myself to Werner, as he had a habit of knowing every student and their films, and no trickster likes to be tricked. And on the last day, two hours before the seminar wrapped, one of the administrators tapped me quietly on the shoulder and asked me my name. I watched her double back to the desk, confer with her counterpart, and pick up her cell phone. As I bolted down the stairs and out of the hotel, one piece of advice Werner gave us rang in my ears: “When Klaus Kinski is foaming at the mouth, raging at you for two hours and a half… you must dazzle him by biting into the last piece of chocolate that you have.”’
Read the whole article here: