Nicolescu returns

Nikki met me in Paris. We shopped for shoes, ate a lemon tart, and hung out in Eric and Susanne's beautiful, sunny apartment. Eric and Susanne are the lovely people who let me stay at their place for a whole week. I painted a really crappy picture of their back courtyard on a cheap canvas I bought from the Carnival D'Affaires down the street. Acrilyic paints with pen and ink. The final tableau was quite hideous, but it was very relaxing until it was actually finished. Nikki has adjusted well to Bucharest by simply removing most of her clothes and lying inert on the couch with a fan on.

How's the Film Coming?

Oh, my favorite question. Everyone keeps asking, so I don't want to deprive my vast reading public of a critical update. Thanks for caring.

Well, I am in the process of wading through 43 hours of footage. "Wading" means watching, transcribing, logging into final cut pro, and digitizing so I can edit something coherent. As I watch, I try to edit in my head. What is emerging from the footage is two different films, as I see it.

1) A SUBJECTIVE FILM ABOUT ME, THE KIDS, AND ROMANIA--FOR AN AMERICAN AUDIENCE
One of the things I know to be true about myself is that I simply like to include a little bit of everything. I like poo-poo platters and buffets and survey classes and samplers and variety and basically, a little one of everything rather than one big thing. I also like to approach things from my personal perspective, maybe because I consider myself the authority only on my own experience, and including my own voice and acknowledging my presence seems more honest somehow. The problem (okay, maybe I shouldn't think of it as a problem) is that the subjective documentary style (personal voiceover, on-screen presence) is often more difficult to get funding and acceptance for. There is some degree of condescension, discomfort, or dogma in the documentary filmmaking world about the "personal documentary," even though that's what we're all making ultimately. The thing is, a lot of filmmakers and funders consider that the personal perspective should be implied, rather than stated or made obvious through voiceover. In writing, the memoir is becoming a more accepted form. But in filmmaking, it's very tricky to do well. Nevertheless, I've found myself making a subjective film about my experiences in Romania, with the kids, with Romanians in general (and how they feel about my film), and with the bigger picture. I am the only link between the footage of the kids from five years ago, and the footage I've shot this year. Can I pull it off? I guess it depends on whether I'm able to edit myself into a likable character and weave in all the different threads. Ultimately, it's a question of taste, right?. As an American, I see this subjective film addressing an American audience who knows little about Romania. Given that many films have been made about children in Romania, will distributors or festivals even be interested? I guess I'll see.
2) A "PUBLIC SERVICE" FILM ABOUT FOSTER CARE IN ROMANIA--FOR ROMANIAN AUDIENCES
A local production company has expressed interest in partnering with me to do a film about Romanian foster care for a Romanian public television audience. This would mean focusing (in the editing process) more on two or three kids and their immediate environment, rather than the six in the version above--which means cutting out Zoro and Anton because they aren't in foster care. This shorter film would let Romanian viewers know about foster care in Romania: how it works, how children with disabilities are being included in the larger community, how the system is becoming a model for other Eastern European countries. I would not appear in the film, but let the subjects speak for themselves.

I am supposed to meet with someone from TVR (Romanian public television) soon to talk about these options. I would like my work to air on TV here in Romania, but the universal disgust and frustration I encounter from Romanians when they ask me what my film is about has made me unsure how best to approach the general viewing public. I hope the TVR people can help me figure out which version they think their audiences would be more receptive to or interested in. Would they watch a film about Americans dealing with child welfare issues in Romania? Or will it just piss them off? Would they rather see a film about foster care in which my identity as an American is not obvious--something that a Romanian could have shot instead?

We'll see...

Paris

I know it's a cliche, but I LOVE PARIS. LOVE IT. I just got back from the land of delicious crispy croissants and cute shoes to 100 degree temperatures in Bucharest. It's hotter outside than it is inside, so I have a choice of opening the windows to let the hot, smelly, heavy heat waft in (less like a breeze than a wooly wet blanket) or keeping the doors shut and blinds down and recircling the stuffy air with the grimy fan I just discovered on the balcony. When I returned from my week of Parisian living, my apartment in Bucharest had been sealed shut during a week of record-breaking heat, which allowed the distinctive smell of moth-killing spray my landlady doused the place with three months ago to be released from the fibers of the rugs and furniture. I wonder how many years it has taken off my life to live here.

I know it gets hot in France sometimes too, and that no city is perfect, but then why am I so happy whenever I go to Paris? Is it just the lingering positive associations I had with France from my early twenties, when I studied abroad? Is it the wide selection of paper supplies in the ubiquitous papeteries, the cafe culture, the language that was my first love? I never developed the interest in Romanian or Bosnian or spanish verb conjugations that I had for the French ones; I never fell for another culture quite the same way. The thing is, only visiting from time to time allows me to retain my romantic feelings for the city--like dating long-distance. I never get to know it well enough to discover its real flaws. All my French friends tell me that if I lived there, I would get over the infatuation. They point out how expensive it is, how it also gets too hot in the summer, how the traffic and noise wear them down. There are only so many paper supplies one can have, they insist. But I am not sure about that.

People also say, "Well why don't you move there?" It's that tricky work permit issue. Not so easy as a non-EU citizen. I could live on the lam, renewing my tourist visa every three months and doing work under the table...My camera is NTSC, so I'd have to trade it for a PAL model...But I don't think I have the energy for that kind of life right now. No, I'm afraid I'm going to have to return to the good old US of A. It's a big country; surely I'll find somewhere bearable to live, until I save up enough money to move to Paris.

The visit