An Interview with Jim Tushinski by Jim Gladstone

Call him “The Polymath from Palm Springs.” Within a single 18-month span, Jim Tushinski has released his first feature film—That Man: Peter Berlin, a wry, insightful documentary about the elusive, Warholian ‘70s gay porn icon, published an engrossing Violet Quill nominated literary novel—Van Allen’s Ecstasy, and completed editing a provocative upcoming non-fiction anthology about LGBT people’s desires “to be who we are not.” Somehow, in the midst of a hectic film festival schedule that has him flying hither and yon with reckless, exhilarated abandon, he made time to talk to Jim Gladstone about his creative process and artistic pleasures.

Jim Gladstone: You've written a novel that centers around amnesia, created a documentary about a man with a carefully crafted persona, and edited an anthology titled Identity Envy...What is your fascination with the notion of individual identity and what do you hope to get out of exploring it in your work?

Jim Tushinski: You might think this is odd, but until you asked me that question, I'd never noticed the connections or even knew I had a particular interest in individual identity. I suppose this fascination has to do with the eternal mystery of how we become who we are—what mechanisms, traumas, incidents, influences cause us to end up believing ourselves to be one thing and not another. Exploring this idea through creative work is how I wrap my mind around an incredibly complex and mysterious phenomenon. I love a good mystery—one that can't be solved because of its enormity. I'm working on a project now that involves (among other things) unexplained phenomena such as the Tunguska Event in Siberia at the beginning of the 20th Century, so in a way I'm moving from the exploring the unexplainable within us to exploring the unexplainable in the physical world.

Gladstone: Your novel has music as an important element, and you're also a filmmaker. What are the different appeals to you of writing, film and music as art forms, both as a creator and as an audience member?

Tushinski: They are certainly the three art forms I have the most interest in. I would add theater as the fourth art form I love, but the one I haven't tried my hand at yet. All art appeals to me on a visceral level first and then on an intellectual level later (if at all). With writing, it's the wonder of creating a type of reality with nothing but words that appeals to me. I have no idea how it happens, but when it works, as a reader I become oblivious to everything around me and I'm part of the world created. It never ceases to amaze me. As a writer, I suppose the appeal is seeing if I can create that for a reader. Creating fiction that works is a huge challenge because so few people read fiction and everyone has so many distractions to overcome in order to settle into a book. If a writer is able to pull it off and have a reader forget about everything, then that's as big an accomplishment as anything I can think of in the arts and entertainment world.

Filmmaking works in a similar way, except the world created is much more real because film and video are a visual and aural medium. In some ways, it's easier to create a film or video than to write a book because you have so many more tools at your disposal, so many ways to solve problems and present emotions and information, But in another way, it's more difficult because any problem, any flaw, will jolt the audience out of the reality you've created and even one jolt like that can wreck the whole experience. I don't think that's as true for fiction. As a audience member, I think film is one of the most powerful media because when it works, the experience alters the viewer in a much more immediate way.

Gladstone: How so?

Well, as an example, when I finished reading Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, I felt a wonder and a sense of satisfaction. I thought about the book for days. I may have sat quietly for a minute or so after finishing, but I was able to continue functioning normally almost immediately after finishing the book. But when I saw Chantal Akerman's amazing film Jeanne Dielman, I was wrecked, I couldn't talk or eat or anything for hours. My mind was buzzing. Now I'm not saying that the immediate effect is the most profound, but the impact from a great film is almost physical in a way the impact of a great book is not.

Gladstone: And what about the impact of music?

Tushinski: Music...well...music is a mystery to me and that's why I love it so much. I'm not a musician, have never been a musician, can't fathom how people can perform or write anything as beautiful as music. As an audience member, I've had the most profound emotional and physical experiences listening to music. I used to go to the San Francisco Symphony a lot and there would be times I'd be listening to a piece when a passage or even a chord would send a shiver through me that I couldn't explain. It was a sense of wonder unlike anything I've experienced reading a book or seeing a film. It's always emotional and physical, never intellectual, at least for me. That's the feeling I wanted to capture as a writer in Van Allen's Ecstasy—that sense of wonder and dread and amazement that music can bring.

Gladstone: In the past year, you've attended many film festivals, some gay-centered and some general...What are the different pleasures and pitfalls of the two types of festival?

Tushinski: I like screening That Man: Peter Berlin in the so-called mainstream festivals because the audience is more diverse. At GLBT film festivals, it's less likely that a straight woman, a straight man, or a lesbian will see our documentary, because films that are about gay men draw almost exclusively a gay male audience. Which is cool too, though I wish audience members at GLBT festivals would mix things up more.

The pitfalls? Sometimes being in a mainstream festival means being a small fish in a big pond. It's more difficult to get publicity because mainstream newspapers don't think you're "universal" enough. With GLBT festivals, That Man has sometimes been relegated to late night slots because of the porn angle. Or it’s paired with other "Pornumentaries," which I think limits our audience sometimes.

But we've been enormously fortunate with That Man: Peter Berlin on the festival circuit. It’s my first feature and it premiered at the Berlin International Film Festival and has screened on every continent. Who can complain? Not bad for a documentary about a guy who liked showing his dick.

Gladstone: How does Peter Berlin like the film?

Tushinski: He thinks it's not too bad. It's very difficult for someone who always has controlled his own image to let me come in and tape him without knowing exactly how the project would end up. He doesn't enjoy watching it and is somewhat amazed that there is so much interest in him, but he's been very supportive.

Gladstone: What are some of the most interesting reactions audience members have had to the film?

Tushinski: Peter's story brings back a lot of memories for gay men over 50 and it's not unusual for one or two to come up to me after a screening and get a little emotional describing when they first saw Peter's photographs. It's wonderful. I love it when women approach me after a screening and tell me something like, "I was only here because I wanted a good seat for the next show, but I loved your film. I expected a sleazy porn bio and was surprised to see the story of a non-compromising artist." It's always a joy to find out that you gave audience members something they didn't expect.

Gladstone: Having been to literary conferences as well as film fests, how do you find gatherings of writers and gatherings of filmmakers compare?

Tushinski: Film festivals draw larger crowds, which can be exciting, especially if the crowds are there to watch something you've created. Small press writers and independent filmmakers are very supportive folks because there is no money to be made and publishers and distributors aren't always helpful. So the creative types are always helping each other out with tips and connections and contacts. I find that established writers are generally more supportive of talented newcomers than established filmmakers are. Not sure why. Both getting published and getting a film seen are equally difficult.

Gladstone: As a gay man who has made a documentary about Peter Berlin, what is your personal relationship with porn as a viewer?

Tushinski: I'm really not very interested in porn. I don't watch any and don't have much fascination with it. What Peter was doing in the 1970s was, like the work of Wakefield Poole and Jack Deveau, more of an attempt to create an underground cinema for gay men that included a lot of sex. There was no gay porn industry at the time, really. But it has become an industry and now it's all pretty homogenized and slick. But hey, a lot of gay men are very interested in porn. I just wish they were more interested in reading a good book or watching a good movie sometimes, but the reality is that sex sells, especially to gay men. Apparently, if the word Sex is in the title of book or DVD or movie, it will sell more than other books or DVDs. I was joking that I need to change the title of my documentary to That Sex Man: Peter Berlin and make a small fortune.

Gladstone: What are some of your favorite books and films?

Tushinski: Was by Geoff Ryman and The Carnivorous Lamb by Augustin Gomez-Arcos are two books I could read every year and never get tired of. I've read Absalom, Absalom by William Faulkner at least five times and love re-visiting it every few years. The books that have affected me the most are Doris Lessing's The Golden Notebook (I don't understand why she hasn't won a Nobel Prize yet) and James Purdy's In a Shallow Grave.

As far as films go, Nashville near the top, along with Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, Aguirre, the Wrath of God, and Don't Look Now. I think I've seen The Trouble With Angels (Hayley Mills and Rosalind Russell—directed by Ida Lupino!) and Chinatown more times than any other movies. Anything by Eric Rohmer, especially Le Rayon Vert, and any film by Robert Altman, even a bad one (and there are one or two of those), is better than most films from most directors. And as far as documentaries go: Grey Gardens and American Movie and anything by Errol Morris, especially The Thin Blue Line.

Gladstone: Are you able to multitask and work on more than one major art project at a time?

Tushinski: When I get into the thick of a major project, like writing a novel or editing a video, there's no time or energy to think about other projects. But those other projects are always lurking around in the back of your mind. They sort of simmer in the subconscious and eventually pop up more fully formed and ready to go. I'm a pretty good multitasker when I have to be. Deadlines help.

Gladstone: If you were offered a healthy financial annuity for the rest of your life with the conditions that you could not derive income from any of your own artistic efforts and that you could continue only one artistic pursuit—either writing for print or filmmaking—which would you choose and why?

Tushinski: What a great question and what a hard one. I think I’d have to choosing writing for print simply because it's something I can do on my own. Filmmaking requires a group of like-minded people to work with, even on the simplest, most personal projects. Writing I can do anywhere anytime and only requires a pen and paper. That simplicity appeals to me.

 

Choosing to write would also let Tushinski keep updating his five (!) websites. Here’s where you can find him online:

www.jimtushinski.com
www.vanallensecstasy.com
www.thatmanpeterberlin.com
www.gorillafactoryproductions.com (for ordering That Boy)
www.identityenvy.com

Jim Gladstone is the editor of Skin & Ink— a new anthology of erotic gay stories that revolve around tattoos—and author of the award-winning novel The Big Book of Misunderstanding. He is a contributing editor at Passport magazine, where his new book column, Bound, will appear monthly beginning in October. Visit him online at www.gogladstone.com/skin