Alenka believes her lover, Christophe, is dead in order to account for his absence. She contrives for his return. A ghost arrives, assuming the traits of her lover.

As with most artists, the film-maker’s best work is often his first, or early work, with middle and late work less inspired, more formulaic, less from the contractions of the heart, more in response to the conditions of the contract. That is why I enjoyed talking with Montreal film-maker Charles Jodoin-Keaton who recently completed his ‘first’ medium length film Le Gardien Des Tombeaux.

I interviewed him at the Cote des Neiges Cemetery, where he was gathering material for a project that will explore the tenuous relationship between being and immortality.

Charles Keaton: I already had the story in mind while living in Prague (I was still studying in Paris at the time from where I commuted). I stumbled upon a hidden stairway between two old buildings on Nerudova Street, leading straight to a castle. The aura about it felt so right I couldn’t help but imagine two characters pursuing each other. Back in Paris, I visited the Louvre where an array of early Expressionist films and their remakes from the 30s were being shown. One film, The Student of Prague (Stellan Rye, 1917), was a Faustian melodrama about a poor student in love with a well-to-do girl. He sells his reflection to the Devil (also played by himself in a state-of-the-art split-screen effect) in exchange for the prestige he needs to seduce her. Imagine my surprise when, among the locations the film used, I saw the student running after his conniving reflection down the same stairway that summoned me a week before! At this point I went from being ‘driven’ to becoming ‘obsessed’ with telling the story. A ghost cast and crew from 80 years back were leading my path.

CK: Kafka wrote a play he never finished called Le Gardien de Tombeau, about a reticent Prince who struggles with the weight of his family heritage. The guard appointed to the Royal mausoleum warns him of conspiring allies before his restless ancestors succeed in escaping the sepulchral grounds. Every Kafka reader is often led to feel reticent when confronted by the dilemma of profaned heritage. How does one read a work that was meant to be left unread by its creator? One answer could be the pursuit of its ongoing creation.

Co-incidentally, I was living in Prague when the issue of inheritance was at the heart of Czech politics. Confiscated private property was being returned to previous owners. Czech history is marked by enduring resistance, a reminder that ghosts always come back to claim what is theirs . . . And so grew a story about restored heritage and a restless ghost.

CK: Going over-budget, being shelter-pressed and culture-shocked, a mocking bureaucracy, a rented van stolen by its owner: I could go on. The point is that one should expect the worst when shooting abroad on a shoestring budget. But if you pursue the dreams that define you and stick to your guns, you always pull through. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that two of our crew members left the shoot before the end. The actors made it through, thank God!

CK: Le Gardien des Tombeaux is a delicate and (hopefully) engrossing descent into a dream world of lust, love and lost hopes. I could easily want to change parts of a story that took six years to put on the screen. But today, those imperfections are the seeds for future projects.

CK: Marry into money. But seriously, half the budget was government-funded (SODEC,ACIC-ONF), a quarter by sponsors (Czech Airlines). The rest was raised from private investors. The public access to medium-length features is very narrow in North-America, particularly in Quebec. Claude Forget of Cinéma Libre reports that a good percentage of the independent films they distribute only reach audiences outside the province, through TV stations such as Bravo and Arte (France). Somewhat more attention is devoted to films of various lengths in theatres where festivals and art-houses like Excentris will pick them up. My advice to budding filmmakers: sleep-in in the morning and give yourself the time you need to recollect your dreams; rally for an arts-oriented TV station in Quebec; and finish your first film no matter what (don’t fall back on old age for an excuse).

CK: Features.

CK: To follow in the footsteps of Jodorowsky (El Topo), Svakmajer, Egoyan, Welles, Antonioni and Kusturica. And make a living doing it.

CK: It’s difficult to talk about their influence because they are so different. Take Egoyan and Jodorowsky for example. Both directors fascinate me but their visions are antipodal, especially in the way they direct their actors. Egoyan strides around his characters in slow and sometimes cold premeditated rhythm while Jodorowsky lunges at them. Yet both appeal to my sense of lyricism. Nothing is gratuitous in their films, everything calculated.

At their very best, Egoyan (Family Viewing) and Jodorowsky (Santa Sangre) strive to wash out the pretences of individuality in pools of blue or red, through the use of video or mime – cinematic impressionists if you will. Both are obsessed with the pathology of family.

CK: I guess I would put it this way. Some people grow up to learn five languages without doubting for a second who they are. I struggled my way through two cultures, unconsciously placing them in opposition to each other. As opposites, they fed each other, just as my struggle to reconcile two languages fostered a secret desire to keep my parents together. My parents are as different from each other as Egoyan and Jodorowsky. This probably explains my strong attachment to individualism.

Another influence I must mention is Buster Keaton. The Fall issue of Bust Magazine named Buster one of the world's sexiest men of all times. Flattering. One day I would like to direct a feature with no dialogue. Actors would simply gesture and twitch out the story. Hard to make I guess but easy to distribute.