*Golden delicious* (DIR. JASON KARMAN, 2022)

Celebrating SAD’s current print issue, Home, we are taking a look back at last fall’s VIFF 2022 local film, Golden Delicious, directed by Jason Karman.

With views of mountains, alleyways paved between detached homes in Hastings Sunrise, and the sandy and grassy area of Trout Lake, Golden Delicious emulates the familiarity of home and the meaning behind it; what it means to feel at home with yourself, your family and those around you. Jason Karman's first feature-length film premiere at VIFF examines the coming-of-age story of a young Asian Canadian navigating his sexuality, the people he cares about, and his parents he doesn’t want to let down.

Jason Karman, director of the film, sat down with SAD to discuss his process and the impact of directing his first feature-length film.

Having grown up in Vancouver, what about the city inspires you to base your film work here?

One of the reasons why I came to Vancouver was because of the views of the mountains and ocean together. As a child, I always thought of this city as this magic beauty that mountains and water would always bound. There was this unity in that. When it came to the move to Vancouver, it also felt that it was also more environmentally friendly here, and I wanted to live in a place where they valued that. As a gay Asian man, I also found more Asian gay men there, and white men weren't fetishizing us. I came here, and I saw different kinds of relationships. Role models are essential, and seeing more people outside of what you are used to seeing is important. There was a lot of diversity in the queer population.

Jake's story of embracing his sexuality and receiving love from family was genuinely so wonderful and inspiring to see in the film. As part of the queer-Asian community, what about this story do you believe will resonate the most with other 2SLGBTQIA+ and Asian viewers? What are some aspects that others can take away from it?

In the Asian community, we measure love differently. It's usually measured in wealth or success; there’s always a big push to go into sciences. The parents often say, "If you love me, you will do these things.” You have this pressure on Asian children, and if they are doing something outside of those confines that is fulfilling, they typically have a secret life in a way. One is a private life, where they pursue their passions, and one that is more objective to what their parents would like to satisfy them and show that they appreciate their parents and love them—giving back to their parents for everything they've done. Something I wanted to share from the film is that you don't have to separate your private life, you can merge the two, and you don't have to suppress your true passions. Meeting your full potential is when you can authentically be you. That would be my hope for gay immigrant kids. For millennials and Gen Z audiences, I feel there is this big message about the harm social media can have with anxiety and depression. There's a risk to being connected as much as we are. As an educator as well, it’s sad that I’m noticing more great young minds being paralyzed by social media.

What drew you to Gorman Lee’s script?

I got recommended to Gorman through the Praxis Centre for Screenwriting in 2013. I was looking to develop a relationship with an Asian writer that had similar values to myself. When I read Golden Delicious, I was enamoured by the script's pacing and the richness of the characters and how visual it was. I was able to imagine the film in my head. At the time, I needed the credibility and skill set to direct a feature film properly. I did try, though. I applied three times to the Telefilm Talent to Watch program, first in 2013. After revisiting the project in 2018 and re-applying in 2019, it got accepted in 2020; interestingly enough, three other Asian stories got in too. I can't help but think of the social movements in 2020–George Floyd, Stop Asian Hate. It precipitated that change.

I needed to persist. I value my working relationship with Gorman. There was a lot of collaboration leading up to production. He's open, but he’s also opinionated,, which is important because I know how he stands on certain things.

Did you stick to the script while shooting? Were there any changes along the way in the production?

There were a few challenging days with things beyond our control—the weather, and someone who trespassed and stole the actors’ belongings. The pandemic also made finding locations much more challenging. We had to lose a few scenes and reworked the script. I understood the story very well and knew the essence of some of those scenes so that I could distill them to their bare bones. We would also shoot them in different locations to preserve the story.

You needed a lot of consultations on things as well.

Yes, we had a Covid officer that needed to be on staff and an intimacy coordinator. We also required actors in more intimate scenes to get tested 48 hours before the shoot. None of the scheduling was improvised; everything was carefully managed.

You mentioned the hiring of an intimacy coordinator. I understand that to be a very new practice in the industry. What was your experience working with them?

It was a wonderful experience. I recommend everyone to hire one. They help translate your directions in a way that is safe and respectful to the actors, because if you think about it, you are asking two actors who don't know each other to become intimate and emotional with each other. It's also about language and permission. Suppose I needed an intimate scene to be more heated or extended, I would connect with the coordinator, who would be able to discuss it with the actors. It also provides a third party; if any of the actors were uncomfortable for some reason, they wouldn't have to feel intimidated about discussing it with me. It allows for protection and security during more vulnerable scenes. It's all about respect and safety.

What was the most challenging artistic choice you made in making this film?

One of the things I had to deal with was finding the locations for rehearsal space and shooting. Because of the size, we couldn't get into recreation centres to practice basketball or do extensive rehearsals. Schools were closed to allow us to film. There was a famous empty school in North Vancouver called St. Thomas Aquinas. They wouldn't let us, because it was a queer story; and because they were a private institution and religious, they said they had grounds to say no to the project. We were disappointed and notified Creative BC about it; we were shocked that this kind of thing still happened. Eventually, we found New West Secondary; they had just renovated and were moving students over, so there was a vacant building, and we could get in with short notice.

In terms of communication, I was working with people in a mask. I was casting virtually. I had to lean into my instincts, and I'm glad that my instincts worked out. Because I was directing with half my face covered, and English was not my first language, I was worried that people couldn't understand me. I wanted my first feature film experience to go differently. I was grateful for my producer watching over the time each day on set, because I kept on a 12-hour day. With the pandemic, I had a budget for cleaning stuff. With actors shooting, we had to have them tested 48 hours before the shoot.

Who has been a source of inspiration for you as of late?

I'm working with a great director and instructor at Capilano named David Hauka. He's a teacher I co-teach second-year directing with; he's a wealth of information, and he's always generous, kind, and patient in how he communicates and approaches things. The way he describes stories, it's an utter delight to watch him work. I admire the way he sees the structure of a story. He can zero in visually on what's missing and what can be improved; that skill only comes over time. I feel very privileged to work alongside him and to see his craft. He's had his films at TIFF and has been at Cannes. He's a director in his twilight years. He's a role model in how one can conduct himself when you're older. He's a fantastic teacher. He's leaving behind a great legacy. That's something I hope to one day be able to do.

What are some of your biggest influences in directing?

While studying at the University of Calgary, I still questioned my sexuality. I remember seeing Hettie MacDonald’s A Beautiful Thing and Lilies by John Grayson. It felt like the first time I could identify with characters on the screen, and it inspired me to begin my journey with filmmaking. It's been great seeing things like Heartstopper too, because before, queer stories were rarely available.

What legacy would you hope to leave as a filmmaker?

I want my films to make a difference in people’s lives and how we can live better. There's a lot of struggle in the world. I understand that conflict breeds change, but we should not dwell on the negative and call in realism; for me, escapism is valuable for finding resources and improving. With independent films, we don't have Marvel movie budgets, so although it's hard to showcase heroic and adventure-filled stories, we can showcase people in their everyday world–their conversations, anxieties, and hopes. There's this level of richness in that. I want my films to choose hope rather than despair.

I thought I'd end on something fun! What has been bringing you joy lately?

The bright sun outside. It feels like the end of August right now, even though it's the beginning of October. I get these reminders on Facebook like, "This is what you did last year!" And I'm looking through these pictures of rain and cold. So right now, it feels like a lovely extended summer.

Golden Delicious premiered at VIFF 2022 to sold-out crowds. For more information on news and information on upcoming dates and projects, you can follow Jason Karman on Twitter (@jasonkarman) and on Instagram (@jasonkarman). Watch the trailer for Golden Delicious now: here.

* The following conversation has been edited for clarity.

Allison Shields (she/her) is a latinx, queer writer and sound-scape artist who lives and works on the unceeded and ancestral territories of the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), skwxwú7mesh (Squamish), səl̓ilwətaɁɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations and the hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓ speaking people. She’s a graduate from KPU’s Bachelor of Creative Writing Program and works as a columnist for SAD Mag and the podcast I Like Your Dress.

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An Interview with Jason Karman, Director of Golden Delicious