We are living in the time of the Anthropocene, an era where human behaviour impacts all life on the planet. Can I Get a Witness? asks, “What are we willing to sacrifice to make things equitable for all species?”
I started writing Can I Get a Witness? in the 2010s. I was living in the urban density of downtown Vancouver, a storm blew over 10,000 trees, the Canadian government had just raised the eligible age to collect a government pension and there were discussions of semi-privatizing medical care. I was finding myself filled with anxiety about everything from earthquakes and tsunamis to collapsing economies, and the disintegration of our social contract. Instead of a watch upon retirement, why not just give people a lethal injection?
Can I Get a Witness? is a futuristic, dystopian utopia, where humans have agreed to end life at 50, before we become a burden to society.
A trip to Powell River showed me a flip side to urban living, one with more space and without conspicuous consumption. There was relatively little development and high rises were non-existent. Industry was almost at a standstill. Bad for some, more affordable for others. This zero-growth world had me asking questions about how we as a society could or should be evolving. Here I taught filmmaking to teenagers who had no sense of film history, nor of history in general, but they had absorbed the visual literacy of the culture around them. The work they produced could be honest, direct, sophisticated and emotionally mature.
The question of what role teenagers could play in our society helped fuel the creative story of Can I Get a Witness? What if their art showed what was really going on under the surface? Thus, the idea of ‘End of Life’ documentation drawings came to life, a way of showing what people are really feeling approaching death.
At the heart of Can I Get a Witness? is a human cull, one that is democratic, humane and effective. Legislated by world governments, it requires the buy-in of everyone. It shows us at our “best,” willing to repress personal and cultural desires for the global good. It is “quality” of life over the “quantity” of life.
It is a beautiful idea, and it is a horrible idea.
Can I Get a Witness? presents the viewer with the feeling that something is very wrong under a seemingly normal surface. The real world can only be maintained with the almost total repression of unruly emotions, but the fear and anger and love are expressed through the animated drawings of Kiah, combined with the music, and precious light. The camera is almost always hand-held, sometimes restless, sometimes patient, but always breathing. (I love what DOP Sara Mishara did with “Drunken Birds”).
The sounds of the natural world will all play centre stage in the soundscape. The gentle chirp of one cicada becomes as oppressive as a swarm. The streets are empty of cars, there are animals in the road, you can hear the birds and see the stars (like during the first days of the 2020 COVID lockdown). This is an inherently violent world but we will see no violence in the imagery. However, we might hear it, and we might see it in the framing, in the edit.
It’s the future, and everybody is in it. Parents do not bring up their own children, so that everyone can be equally cared for, and mixed race becomes even more common. This allowed for a great freedom in casting. We’ve all had to put aside our cultural and religious prerogatives in order to have a greater harmony, but when would they come out more than preparing for death?
The ‘End of Life’ ceremonies can be catered specifically to the cultural backgrounds or personal desires of the actual people cast in the film. They are truly a template in the script, an example of how people might like to say goodbye.
At the end of Can I Get a Witness? I want audiences to ask themselves what would they actually be willing to give up to live in the kinder, gentler world many of us say we want. Let’s be clear – it will take some sacrifices.
