Our zine’s name, Fireflies, is taken from Pasolini’s 1975 newspaper article, “The Disappearance of the Fireflies”. Just as Pasolini bemoaned the disappearance of a specific culture in Italy, so too do we regret – though in terms far less apocalyptic – the disappearance of a certain type of artist from the cinema.
It’s not that gifted, audacious filmmakers no longer exist, or that Pasolini and Apichatpong are unknowns, but rather that their appreciation is increasingly limited and niche. There are numerous reasons for this development and ample grounds for Jonathan Franzenesque whinging, but these don’t interest us.
Instead, Fireflies hopes to offer a fresh take on the work of these filmmakers. We want to create a space between the often esoteric language of film theory and the ephemeral buzz of the Twittersphere; to talk about these films in a mode as accessible and profound as the films themselves. We believe that these films’ capacity for fascinating and transporting viewers is boundless and universal, and that through Fireflies we can share this wonder with a greater audience.
WHO IS FIREFLIES FOR?
Fireflies will celebrate these directors and their works in a tone and format accessible to all readers, inspiring those unfamiliar with their films to seek them out and inviting those already familiar to consider them in a new light. We want contributors who don’t necessarily see themselves as film buffs but who feel moved by cinema. Fireflies is about encouraging appreciation and community, and we want its passion to be passed on to its readers.
Fireflies will be printed as an art object for readers to keep and treasure long after they have finished reading.
WHAT ARE WE LOOKING FOR?
We are after personal responses to the films that are creative, imaginative, intimate, and that wouldn’t normally be found in a film journal. We want short stories, poems, illustrations, photographs, comics, personal reflections, and essays that don’t stray too far into academia (if you want to bring in Deleuze, go for it, but please explain what you are saying). Rather than direct references, we want works that feed off the mood and ideas of these films and use them to take off into new and uncharted territories.
We welcome responses that are as free and imaginative as you like. Write a poem about Apichatpong’s jungle, create a photographic essay of Pasolini’s Roman suburbs, imagine a conversation between Terence Stamp’s character from Teorema and Pierre Clémenti’s from Pigsty, or illustrate a post-coital moment between the catfish and the princess from Uncle Boonmee.
Simply put, we’re looking for works that make us dream, shudder, swoon, think and fall in love with cinema all over again.