STREETS OF FIRE: THE BRENNA SANCHEZ INTERVIEW

With her co-director Tom Putnam, Detroit native Brenna Sanchez (pictured, below) has crafted Burn, an intimate yet exciting documentary that all but defines the term 'fly-on-the-wall' filmmaking. Together, they were not only allowed access to the grinding bureaucratic gears of a local government struggling to halt the decline of Sanchez's hometown, but were also afforded a year with the firefighters of a metropolis slowly burning to the ground. Sanchez spoke with SCREEN-SPACE only a few hours prior to the film's Australian premiere at Perth's Revelations Film Festival, filing her email responses mid-flight from Los Angeles to Australia's West Coast.   

The American firefighter has always been held in a sort of mythical regard, more so since 9/11. Your film plays to that but also reveals the very human side of the role. Was that the intention going into Burn?

Absolutely! Some of the best documentaries get beyond what we think we know about a subject. After spending five minutes with these guys, we knew there was more to firefighters than we'd ever seen on TV or in movies. Sure, firefighters are heroes. But they're more than that. We knew there was a deeper story here.

The access you achieved is quite incredible. Not only in terms of the extraordinary footage inside burning buildings but also with regard to the coverage you got of the notoriously publicity-shy local government bodies. Which of the two proved more welcoming?

Once the firefighters (pictured, right; Putnam and Sanchez, back-row centre) heard the tenor and depth of the questions we asked, they opened up. No one had ever asked them about them — who they are, what they do. What they see and deal with every day is too tough to talk about at home; they don't want to scare their wives and families. And the department doesn't have therapists. So once they felt we were there to listen, and tell their story, they were incredibly generous.

We went through four fire commissioners before Donald Austin came in. He was the first to understand what we were trying to do, and supported us. We were transparent with him, and he gave us the access we needed. He could have shut us down at any point, but he saw the good that could come from the film.

I know this may sound unusual but structurally, it reminded me of a western – real-men protectors of the people against a black-hearted villain (fire) and a ‘crooked system’ (local government), all set in a decaying ghost town. I don’t mean for that to belittle the real-world issues of Burn, but does the film embrace a kind of traditional Hollywood ethos?

You're spot on. At its core, BURN is a movie about change. Just like in the old Westerns, there's a new sheriff in town, and the railroad is coming through. Can the cowboys adapt? Does the sheriff have what it takes to lead them through the change? The story is evergreen except, instead of horses, we're talking about shifting industry and economics. We talked about Westerns constantly when we were filming, which is one of the reasons we shot the film in 2.35 widescreen, which is very unusual for a documentary. The other genre we were thinking of was a war film, where we thought of ourselves as if we were embedded with a platoon during a tour of duty in a combat zone. We get to know this tight-knit brotherhood, and we see the larger issues, but through their eyes.

How involved was executive producer Denis Leary? At what point in the production did he come on board and did he have any stipulations as to message he wanted the film to impart?

Denis Leary and Jim Serpico (pictured, above; with, from left, co-directors Putnam and Sanchez) came on about half-way through. They saw what we were doing, where we were headed, and recognized that BURN fell right in line with their work with the Leary Firefighters Foundation. They looked at late cuts of the film, and were always encouraging.

There is fascinating juxtaposition, in that these men and their families represent a classically wholesome American image that has barely altered in a century but the country around them, here represented by the plight of Detroit, is collapsing. Does the film capture the prosperous age of America’s yesteryear in its death throes?  

This is a movie about change. When you go to Detroit, you so often hear, "Detroit was once so great — it needs to be what it used to be." But the world doesn't work like that, life only moves forward. Industry in Detroit and many, many, many other once-industrial areas is gone. Everyone must create a new normal to survive. And whose job hasn't changed in 100 years? Tradition is a dangerous idea if it prevents you from evolving. Detroit, the fire department, and our individual characters are all facing the challenge of change, and learning how to adapt so they can survive it.

When developments occur on a documentary shoot such as the tragic passing of Mr Parnell’s wife or the introduction of the ‘Let It Burn’ policy, does it invariably shift the initial focus of the film? After a year’s shooting, is Burn the doco you thought it would be?

We had no idea what we were getting into, we only knew wanted to know more. We sensed the stories were there, but they were a mystery to us at the start. We began by filming a huge number of characters since we didn't know who would have something eventful happen over the course of the year. We ended up filming over a thousand hours, and were over half-way through filming before the central characters began rising to the surface. If you take the time to be still, to watch, and to really listen, really get to know people, don't the stories always reveal themselves?

BURN - Official Theatrical Trailer (2013) from BURN on Vimeo.