Blu illustration from Lorenzo Fonda’s Megunica

His reel includes spots for Nike and MTV, a music video for Bright Eyes, and a handful of personal shorts that all have a signature brand of oddball pathology coursing through their frames (need we mention the playboy Sloth?).
Italian filmmaker, Lorenzo Fonda calls himself a “nerd,” and says his intentions are to “bring very serious matters back to a more human level.” Case in point: Fonda’s first full-length feature, Megunica, an ambitious coupling of the director’s self-deprecating sense of humor and his serious philosophical objectives in the form of a multi-media, multi-curated, multi-genre documentary. In the interests of condensing those multis into a single unifying sentence, we’ll say that Megunica follows Italian street artist, Blu, through Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Argentina (hence the title), and examines how the artist is shaped by his surroundings, and conversely how the surroundings are shaped or rather, reshaped by the artist. But, really, to hell with brevity. We want dish. Flux recently met up with Fonda to discuss the film, the fights, and what documentaries have in common with high-maintenance girlfriends.

Painting from Megunica

How did your collaboration with Blu come to be? How did the idea for Megunica originate — did the “whole package” come together at once, or did aspects of the project fall in place as the film progressed?
I met Blu through mutual friends about 3 years ago. Our friends kept telling us our styles are similar and that we should collaborate on something. So, we met, and we realized we would like to work together, but we could never find the right occasion. We lived far away from each other at that time, and we each had our own projects. The idea of a film about Blu came to me after I visited the Beautiful Losers Contemporary Art And Street Culture exhibition in Milan. The exhibit sort of represented “la crème of the art movement” that spawned from underground, skate, surf. Those artists were, at least to me, heroes, since I come from the skateboard world. And, those artists are actually heroes to a lot of other people. But, I wondered why they were pretty much almost all Americans. Yeah, okay, the U.S.A is where that culture was born. Makes sense. But, I said, “Hey, wait, we have some pretty good people here in Europe, as well. And, guess what? I actually know one such person, and he lives 30 kilometers from my town.” That person is Blu.

Road Trip by Blu

Mural by Blu

I picked up the phone, called him, and told him that it was time the general public knew who he was, and knew about the art he was doing. At that time, he was already well-respected in the underground graffiti and street art scene, but people outside that circle didn’t have a clue as to what kind of amazing artist was living among them. If no institution or exhibition wanted to acknowledge and celebrate his talent, I would do it myself, damn it! The world needs his talent; we don’t have much more time left. So Blu and I chatted a little and magically, he agreed to have a film made about him. He made this much clear: He didn’t want to be the only subject of the film. He also didn’t want his face shown at any time, but that was an issue, I, as the director, would have to face later. We tried to find a way to present Blu without only focusing on his work, and we decided to talk more generally about art and well, life. I am deeply conviced that the work of an artist springs from the experiences he has. So, what better idea than having Blu encounter new experiences and record on camera what he then produces? Megunica is the result.

Sandino animation

Faces animation

Megunica is an innovative approach to the documentary, in part because you make no claims of tiptoeing in “unobserved” as a director and crew, then creeping back out. You very intentionally leave footprints wherever you go in the form of Blu’s wall artworks. Was there ever any hesitancy in doing this? In your eyes, is it a departure from the, say, “anthropological” approach to documentary film? What was the reaction of those you filmed — or perhaps those you didn’t — along the way?
We felt no hesitancy. The main idea of the film was to go in, have Blu paint, and record anything that happened around that painting. One of the reasons Blu paints in the streets is because of the situations that naturally arise while he’s there. Honestly, it wasn’t easy to draw the line between making a film about Blu and his work, and making a film about the trip we took together. Sometimes, I indulged myself in crossing that line, and I found myself giving more attention to the people we met. Other times, I forgot we were in new places and I just concentrated on Blu and his art. Perhaps I used Blu as a way to convey something I deeply care about: the idea that one should go out, go around, meet people, search, explore, smell, hear, listen, touch, visit places — both physical and metaphysical, be interested, be curious. I think Blu’s art is what it is because he is incredibly active and curious and willing to take risks. That kind of person creates worthwhile art. Hence, my interest in presenting him wandering through new countries and meeting all these people — who were all pretty much stoked about being the focus of our attention, actually. It’s funny, when we set off on the trip we didn’t have a clear idea of what would become of it. I only really started to understand what I had in my hands when we were in the editing room.

Painting away through Central America

Interview with Akon

You’ve mentioned in previous interviews your love for improvisation. You use that same word, “improvisation,” in describing Megunica on the film’s website. While a documentary like Megunica certainly lends itself to spontaneity, there’s the undeniable structure and affectation that a camera brings to any situation, no matter how unscripted. Did you ever find that the camera failed to capture a particularly significant moment? Alternatively, did you ever feel that the camera falsified a situation? What is your relationship with this contradiction of sorts?
When there’s a camera involved, no act or spoken word is “innocent.” People know the power of a recording device, and behave accordingly. The difference is in how you approach them. From my experience, I’ve found it’s the mood you create in that precise moment that counts. You can point the camera in the face of a person and ask them questions directly, or you can have people gather and act naturally — only then do you try to shoot like the camera is just another listener. I must aknowledge that my camera gave a “twist” to quite a few situations. I was not interested at all in creating the “objective eye”-style film, if such a thing can exist at all. Just as Blu’s paintings spawned reactions from bystanders, my camera pushed people to behave in ways, or to say things they otherwise wouldn’t. I tried to adapt to situations. I relied on improvisation when it came down to shooting someone or something. First came the situation, then came the idea of how to shoot it. Ivan, the producer, got really pissed off at me, at times. He kept saying, “That’s not the way people shoot things! You have to be more organized, more prepared!” But I just love to see something, then take out the camera and start shooting, whatever the situation is. No white balance, out of focus, whatever! It’s real, it’s happening, you can’t lose that. I know it’s quite a “punk” way to do things, but since I have no formal film-school training, I do what my instincts tell me to do.

Wall animation

Megunica is a multi-media project in several senses of the word. It’s an art book, animation, documentary, and so on — which means that, as director, you had to let go of the reins a bit and give others involved artistic control. Was there ever a clash of egos in your collaborations? Ever disagreement over which direction to take the film?
A clash? There were epic wars! Legendary fights! Bloodbaths! First, there were disputes between Blu and I about footage of him that he considered redundant and I considered fundamental. After planning to secretly kill each other, we managed to compromise. He just didn’t want to appear in the film so much and I was okay with that, but it would have been really hard for me to justify the trip and the whole project without showing at least some sides of Blu. Blu really has his own distinct ideas about how he wants to be perceived by people. I respect that. But, that of course causes problems in working with others. It’s funny, now, to think how much we fought over very small, insignificant scenes. For us they were super important. The other significant clashes were with Fabio, the film editor. I had never worked with an editor before, and sometimes I felt we were on two different planets, with regards to which scenes to cut or keep. Eventually, I realized he was right most of the time, and I was too close to the material to speak my mind objectively — the ABCs of filmmaking, I know.

How did you settle on Mexico, Nicaragua, Guatemala, Costa Rica and Argentina as your destinations— was there ever a different plan?
It was Blu who decided on those places. He’s quite a traveler, and I saw great potential in him being exposed to new countries. What I think interested him in Latin America was the culture — the tradition of murals that came out of Mexico; the very complex social and political situations there; the easiness of finding walls to paint; the people who let him paint; the nature; the nice and welcoming.

Filmmaker Lorenzo Fonda hanging in Los Angeles at the Hammer Museum for the Flux Screening

Megunica is your first feature-length. Is there anything you missed about the confines and time constraints of a short film while making a long one? On the other hand, any moments when you felt you could take a breath of fresh air given the new format?
Yes, my first feature length, and it was a fucking odyssey! It was probably the best working experience of my life, but it was really, really hard to accomplish. I think it would take me four days to tell you all the things I went through. I learned so much that now I can’t go back to just doing short-length stuff, again. I mean, I will keep doing shorts, but my objective is to make feature films with proper budgets, and I will keep struggling and not sleeping at night to realize that goal. The main lesson I learned is: Finish what you start. The important thing is that you are in love with your whole project, otherwise, when disaster strikes, you’ll have problems facing the work and deciding to hold onto it. It’s a little like when you’re in love with a girl. You can fight heavily, but while you fight, you know she’s the right one and you will find a solution somehow because you love each other. Makes sense? No. Because I’m single.

Cerberoleso, Lorenzo’s personal site
Megunica trailer
Megunica Production Blog
Mercurio, Lorenzo’s production company