And, appropriately for a lovely summer day, we have a fishing satire for you, direct from the 1980s. I love these kinds of home movies – a true stab a moviemaking, complete with gross-out horror effects, slapstick comedy, and stunts performed on a moving truck.

Contributor Kurt Polzin of New York City fills us in:

In 1983, I was a student at the University of California, Davis. I happened across a Kodak Brownie 8mm movie camera at the thrift store one day and picked it up for $2. The film was still available at the drug store, as was the processing, which was $6 a roll. My roommate Mike and I made a couple of short films, each one roll long, and then we got an idea for our big film.

Growing up in the ’70s, we had both seen the fishing programs that aired on the weekends, and we marveled at how dull they were. We decided to do a parody of a fishing show called “Fish World.” I invested in two rolls of film and, on another trip to the thrift store, I found a fancier Kodak Brownie that had a 3-lens turret (normal, wide angle, and telephoto). We shot the film a few miles from campus at Putah Creek. One of the actors, our friend (who was also named Mike), loved fishing and brought all his equipment. We wrote all the sight gags together and shot it in a few hours.

The camera had automatic exposure and, as the sun got lower, the shots filmed facing into the sun grew more and more underexposed. The final scene, where the fishing guide jumps on the truck, was edited partially in the camera. I tried to edit in the camera whenever possible to save film and because I didn’t have a viewer. I did all my splicing with a magnifying glass!

After sending the film to Lost in Light, I emailed Mike and Mike to see if they wanted DVD copies of the film. We hadn’t been in contact for years. We caught up on each other’s lives and, in May 2007, I got together with Mike and his wife when they were visiting New York City. We made plans for both Mikes and I to get together in June and watch the DVD of “Fish World.”

Music: “I Can’t Hold it Down” by Andy Sullivan and “Ana’s Guitar, Open Window” by Gurdonark, courtesy of CCMixter

The film starts with our team of astronauts, in their winter hooded-coat suits, launching their tin foil constructed spacecraft into deep space. Note the G’s being pulled, especially by the smallest of the bunch. After a few seconds in space they reach the desolate and clearly labeled planet of Mars. The first astronaut cautiously explores the surface of this mysterious formica-floored planet only to be zapped by the death ray of an upside-down, clothes-hamper-headed Martian. Little brother makes a brief cameo with his stuffed animal because Mom made them. The next astronaut is ambushed and completely disintegrates as she sleeps. The thing about Mars is it makes you really tired.

The brave Captain cuts his losses and fires the spacecraft back to Earth quicker than you can say Jiffy Pop. Ahhh but the hamper-headed Martian is inside!!! Lunch was ready so they landed on Earth. The End.

It’s also an example of one of those films that randomly ends up in a family’s possession and loses all trace of its original owner, but somehow remains intact over the years, now passed on to the next generation. This film comes from an unspecified date in the 1960s, courtesy of my mom, Kate. Here’s what she has to say:

I met this filmmaker/photographer years ago at the San Francisco Zoo. You know the deal, through a friend of a friend of a friend. He called me for a date or two or three. Coincidentally, I was enrolled in a film class at the local junior college and our final assignment was to make a Super 8 film. Did I know one iota about making a film? No. Did I really like this guy? Well, er, no. Did he offer to give me his Belly Button film for my final project? Of course.

We had planned a long hike and he brought me the film before we left. During the hike he made his designs known to me. Desperate for a solution to his amorous intentions I introduced him to a Bay Leaf Trip, promising him a high of all highs. I picked a handful of bay leaves, crushing and rolling them in my hands until the oil was released. I told him to take three big whiffs. Within moments, his sinuses were blown out, his eyes tearing, and the sneezes kept on coming. Problem solved!

I showed my film to the class. The instructor LOVED it, asked how I made it ( I made up something) and wanted me to enter it in a Film Contest. I had to say no, since I was, well, shy.

I never saw the bay leaf filmmaker again. I hear he is quite a famous photographer in SF.

Unfortunately, the filmmaker’s name has been lost. But his navel lives on.

–Jen