Harley Chamandy: I started off as a child actor, I was in a few TV movies and a web series. I did a lot of theater as a young kid. I even went to theater camp. It was only when I took a summer acting class where we could make our own films that I understood I preferred to be behind the camera. I liked the control of ideas and the possibility of telling my own stories.

HC: I was moved by artists that were so singular. People like Werner Herzog, Harmony Korine, Michael Haneke, Lars Von Trier, Abbas Kiarostami and Vincent Gallo played a big role in my film education. I would stay home on weekends and just binge watch everything and find all their interviews to really understand their process. I would even find Japanese articles and interviews and translate them to get all the info I could. I was obsessed with the idea ofbecoming a singular artist, one that didn’t compromise and had a very strong point of view. Naturally, I think my early films were definitely influenced by my early heroes, or at least trying to be like them. When I watch those films now, I can tell my voice was pretty well formed, even though I could sense the heavy handed influences.

HC: I realized that I’m drawn to cinema because it’s a visual medium and therefore I am excited about creating images. I’ve never been so excited about “storytelling” and how in North America, they force this idea down your throat that you are a storyteller. I never resonated with that. Of course, cinema involves storytelling, but to me it’s much bigger than that. To be a filmmaker, you need an aesthetic point of view. Cinema is like magic to me, it’s something divine.

HC: I begin with images, and then I chase a feeling. The image that started this film was that of a man living by a lake with his beautiful black dane and making electronic music. I liked the juxtaposition of electronic analog equipment and the natural world. Big synthesizers by a lake, that sort of thing. From there, the character of Allen began to take shape. I was always fascinated by successful businessmen in arts fields that are sensitive and even though they are moguls, they have a delicate sensibility. I also wanted to explore intergenerational relationships, and I was very curious about these two young boys who befriend Allen, and what could come from such a sensitive relationship.

HC: Everything is surmountable if you have faith and you follow God. God means a lot of things but I think once you find God, life makes a little more sense. God is literally faith for me — faith in yourself, faith in the idea that things are meant to be. Once Allen catches the big fish in my film, his world view opens up. He is receptive to the generosity of life. It takes him time but in the end he conquers. His challenges are that his wife and child are now gone, and he lives in isolation. His challenge is to learn to live again, to find himself in a new way.

HC: I tend to avoid the term ‘fear’, as it doesn’t fully capture the essence of my experience. However, I would say that the greatest challenge I faced was the process of creating the film itself, particularly in terms of surrounding myself with the right people. A year before I actually brought the project to life, I attempted to make the film, but I found myself surrounded by individuals who were, frankly, quite toxic. That experience taught me invaluable lessons about collaboration and the profound impact of the environment and energy around you. I’ve come to understand that the team dynamic and the collective mindset on set directly influences the final product in ways that go beyond mere technical skill.

HC: All of it. Working with dogs, boats, water, fire and rain. There are so many challenges to making a film but even more challenges to make a great film.

HC: Landscape in the Mist by Theo Angelopoulos or Herzog’s Aguirre Wrath of God. Harmony Korine’s Gummo. The Wind Will Carry Us by Abbas Kiarostami.

HC: It leaves less room for “storytellers”. The medium needs to be used first and foremost as a visual medium in my opinion. It can’t just be about storytelling. Iconic moments in film history are often associated with imagery, not story, although of course it goes both ways.

HC: It’s an old idea, but we live in a pretty atomized society. Being kinder to people around us and to ourselves is very important.

HC: We try to control every outcome which is not always possible. Sometimes we need to surrender and let go. We’re too focused on outcomes and not on life itself. I think, a lot of times, people think that things have to be well planned before executing. They toil making plans in vain. But you learn while you execute. Just start. That’s the hard part. Being consistent — that’s the really hard part.

HC: It can change the way you see the world. You can travel through different continents through cinema, you can understand totally different human experiences than your own in a short time span. I also don’t think cinema always has to teach us something. Movies don’t have to be didactic. They can just be vessels for pure aesthetic abstraction.

HC: Everything is possible. You just gotta believe it. I think I would like to create a film that caters to a large audience, that makes a pop cultural splash, but that maintains some level of ambiguity. What you don’t get in Hollywood a lot of the time is ambiguity. The best movies, in my opinion, are a bit mysterious. They are simple and well shot, rigorous but also delicate.