There’s something inherently eerie about a ventriloquist’s dummy, but one of the many quiet successes in screenwriter Joseph Cahill’s La Solitude is its endearing and pensive approach to its characters — and yes, one of them is a dummy.
Chuy’s not real, but that doesn’t stop Javier Lacroix’s passionate ventriloquist from treating him like an equal, especially since “their” street act hasn’t brought home a lot of coin lately. Cahill currently lives in Madison, bu this “Wisconsin’s Own en Español” selection was shot on location in Guadalajara, with the hearty ambition at its core inspired by personal themes in Cahill and co-writer Teresa Aguilera. In continuation of our “5 Questions” series, Cahill talked to me via email about music as a character and taking control of life:
1. True to form, “Wisconsin’s Own” films have connections from all over, but never has that been more true than in the “en Español” program this year. Where did you shoot this story?
La Solitude was filmed in Guadalajara, Mexico. I attended medical school at La Universidad Autonoma de Guadalajara from 2005-2009. During that time I wrote several short and feature films and as a result met and worked with several local directors and filmmakers.
2. Usually, ventriloquist dummies are creepy (source: always any representation in pop culture), but you make Chuy an endearing element. He’s treated like a character, if only by the ventriloquist, equal even though he’s not “real” in the diegesis. Was there ever any consideration to “go there” and make Chuy more than just something in this guy’s head?
We wanted to make it a point that Chuy doesn’t do anything. There is nothing mystical about him though at the same time, we wanted to create a believable relationship between two characters. Only one doesn’t speak. Both the visual elements and Javier’s interaction with Chuy create this helplessness between the characters.
3. Your actor, Javier Lacroix has such an irresistible presence about him. He really sells the showmanship of his character. Did you specifically look for actors who had “ventriloquist” on their resume?
No, but [Javier] is a well-known stage actor in Guadalajara. He ended up being perfect for the part. We were lucky to have him.
4. Both the melancholy score and the street musician are so key to dispelling what might otherwise be a strange, one-sided conversation between the ventriloquist and his dummy. During the screenwriting process, was it always planned that the music and the musician would have such a quietly ubiquitous presence?
The Guitarrista was meant to be the antithesis to Javier’s character and kind of a reasoning presence to Javier’s absurd problem of not being able to get his dummy to speak. Regarding the music, I feel strongly about music in film as being a character, in of itself and that it should provide a dramatic presence and help drive the feeling you are trying to squeeze from the audience. When I write, I am usually inspired by a type or style of music. We also needed music for the Guitarrista so the music was born out of this need. This was truly an international production with the original music being produced by a producer out of Sweden, Fredrik Blom. Again, we were lucky to be able to work with him.
5. There’s a definite frustration to La Solitude. Apart from you and [co-writer] Teresa Aguilera’s desire to write a story about repeating the same mistakes, were you drawing from any creative challenges or roadblocks in your own lives?
Certainly there is always a little bit of our personal lives that bleed into our scripts. The inspiration for the story and characters were driven by personal experiences. “Taking control of one’s life” seems to be a running theme in both of our lives and it has come up in more than one script. Hence the final scene in the film.
- La Solitude is an official selection in the “Wisconsin’s Own en Español” shorts program this year. It plays Sunday, Apr 12 at the Madison Museum of Contemporary Art. Tickets were still available at the time of publication.