Home
Born in North York, Ontario, David Spaner grew up in Vancouver where he graduated from Langara College and Simon Fraser University. During his stint as a movie reviewer for The Province newspaper he published Dreaming in the Rain: How Vancouver Became Hollywood North by Northwest (Arsenal 2003 $19.95). It was followed by Shoot It! Hollywood Inc. and the Rising of Independent Film (Arsenal 2011) which "examines the Hollywood studio system from the early days when it produced more quality yet commercially viable films, to today, when studios seem only interested in surefire sequels and comic-book adaptations aimed at a global audience. By the same token, Shoot It! also celebrates today's great movies produced outside of the studio system, chronicling the international independent film movement in seven countries (the United States, Canada, Mexico, Britain, France, Romania, and South Korea), from its roots to the revolutionary impact of digital technology. It also features commentary from indie film notables such as Mike Leigh, Gus Van Sant, Claire Denis, Miranda July, Woody Allen, Atom Egoyan, Catherine Breillat, and more."
In 2021, Spaner published a behind-the-scenes book about the Solidarity resistance movement, Solidarity: Canada's Unknown Revolution of 1983 (Ronsdale $21.95) documenting the event using intimate storytelling and melding cultural and rebel politics to provide insight into the conflicts that are still with us. It was the largest political protest in the province's history and threatened to end in an all-out general strike.
BOOKS:
Dreaming in the Rain: How Vancouver Became Hollywood North by Northwest (Arsenal 2003) 1-55152-129-6 $19.95
Shoot It! (Arsenal 2011) 978-1-55152-408-5 $22.95
Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983 (Ronsdale, 2021) $21.95 978-1-55380-638-7
Keefer Street (Ronsdale, 2024) $24.95 9781553807209
[Photo: Yvonne De Carlo]
[BCBW 2024] "Film"
***
Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983
by David Spaner (Ronsdale $21.95)
Review by Rod Mickleburgh (BCBW 2022)
On a single, unforgettable day in B.C.—July 7, 1983—26 government bills came down the chute striking at the very heart of longstanding union and societal rights. Oversight of human rights, tenant rights, employment standards and more was abolished. Government employees had their contract gutted and all public sector employers in the province were given the power to fire employees without cause.
It was truly a revolution of the right wing.
People fought back with a revolution of their own. Under the banner of Operation Solidarity, occupations and record large protest marches took place across the province. When nothing changed, there was job action that brought B.C. to the verge of an all-out general strike.
Despite these dramatic events, nothing of any depth has been written about it, beyond labour historian Bryan Palmer’s useful but overly-partisan book, Solidarity: The Rise and and Fall of an Opposition in British Columbia (New Star, 1987) published 35 years ago, and last year’s Tranquille & Battle for Community Care in B.C. (Nightwood 2020) by the late Gary Steeves on the three-week occupation of the Tranquille residential facility in Kamloops.
Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983 is a welcome addition to the surprisingly thin library of books on one of the largest, most broad-based political protests in Canadian history. Over four turbulent months in the summer and fall of 1983, hundreds of thousands of British Columbians were caught up in the massive fightback against the wave of repressive legislation brought in by Premier Bill Bennett’s freshly-elected Social Credit government.
Solidarity is far from a comprehensive history. That remains to be written. Rather, David Spaner focuses on the non-union partner of Operation Solidarity, the Solidarity Coalition. There is comparatively little about unions and the labour movement, which, after all, co-founded and co-funded Operation Solidarity with the Coalition, as well as providing the picket line muscle that started the uprising down the path to a general strike. There are background bios of many of the activists featured in the book, giving it a folksy feel, but not much about Coalition leaders Renate Shearer, Father Jim Roberts and the fascinating history of BC Federation of Labour president, Art Kube who also headed Operation Solidarity.
Concentrating on the Coalition, where Spaner’s sympathies lie, is not a bad thing. Largely ignored by a media that concentrated on a “what next?” mentality, it’s a story that cries out to be told. But the result is an incomplete, somewhat one-sided account.
The Coalition was the broad-based organization of community advocates, activists and social movements that drove the fight on social issues. Stretching into every nook and cranny of the province, they represented the heart and soul of Operation Solidarity, giving it credibility and proof that it was more than a self-interested crusade by unions. The welding of these two disparate groups—the inspired brainchild of Art Kube—was unprecedented. Operation Solidarity would never have been the force it was without the Coalition.
It is refreshing to revisit those heady times through the eyes of those who threw themselves into the Coalition. Spaner provides good descriptions of the endless organizing, unwieldy but respectful marathon meetings, and grassroots decision-making that went on. The chapter on feminism and the strong role played by women in the fightback is particularly good. “It brought all those people together in such a short period of time,” participant and now speaker of the Legislature, Raj Chouhan tells the author. “It was quite a phenomenon, you know, like when you saw people from the faith groups, socialist types, or women’s rights, suddenly together.” They galvanized many British Columbians to join a protest for the first time in their lives.
But at times, the book loses focus by drifting off into quirky tangents such as socialist history going back to the First International, tales of old lefties, endearing though they are, musical memories from Vancouver’s past and tales of Barkerville and Wells. There are also errors. It was the Fraser River gold rush that prompted establishment of the Colony of British Columbia in 1858, not the 1860s gold rush at Barkerville. There are others, none fatal.
In the end, it mostly came to nought. With 70,000 public sector workers already on the picket line, ferry workers and bus drivers were due to walk out the following Monday morning. By then, however, the government had backed down on its anti-union bills and Operation Solidarity leaders wanted out. With Kube sidelined by pneumonia, International Woodworkers of America (IWA) leader, Jack Munro flew to Kelowna to negotiate a deal with Premier Bill Bennett. Solidarity’s Coalition partners were frozen out. It was now a union show. Late Sunday night, November 13, as the province held its breath, Munro and Bennett announced the strike was over. The so-called Kelowna Accord contained nothing that addressed social issues.
Left in the dark back in Vancouver, members of the Coalition, many of whom had put their personal lives on hold for months, were devastated. Spaner gives them justifiable voice. “We were all in tears,” recounts tireless social justice advocate Patsy George. “It was a horrible betrayal.” Self-styled “hoarder of records” Sara Diamond was so upset she threw out all her records from Solidarity and the Coalition.
Despite the ennobling harmony of the summer, the gap between unions and social groups proved too wide to be bridged. Spaner puts all the blame on the labour side, disparaging what he calls “obsolete unionism.” It’s an odd term for what was the most militant labour movement in Canada, reflecting an imperfect understanding of how unions work. The Coalition’s vote for a general strike to be carried out by unions, not Coalition members, irritated many in the private sector.
Munro, who unleashed a barrage of disparaging remarks of his own about members of the Coalition, takes his lumps, including withering criticism from then BC Teachers’ Federation president Larry Kuehn, one of Solidarity’s heroes for leading 30,000 teachers out on an illegal strike, as the first wave of Solidarity’s general strike.
Despite its faults, we should be grateful that David Spaner has given us this account. His book reminds us that there was a time when British Columbians united in common resolve to stand up for justice and human rights, and anything, even the political surrender of a government, seemed possible. Spaner is right to conclude: “The Solidarity uprising of 1983 gave us a glimpse of what could be. [It] was far greater than its anticlimactic ending.”
Such a time it was. 978-1-55380-638-7
Rod Mickleburgh co-authored with Geoff Meggs, The Art of the Impossible: Dave Barrett & the NDP in Power, 1972-1975 (Harbour). It won the Hubert Evans Prize in 2013.
***
In 2021, Spaner published a behind-the-scenes book about the Solidarity resistance movement, Solidarity: Canada's Unknown Revolution of 1983 (Ronsdale $21.95) documenting the event using intimate storytelling and melding cultural and rebel politics to provide insight into the conflicts that are still with us. It was the largest political protest in the province's history and threatened to end in an all-out general strike.
BOOKS:
Dreaming in the Rain: How Vancouver Became Hollywood North by Northwest (Arsenal 2003) 1-55152-129-6 $19.95
Shoot It! (Arsenal 2011) 978-1-55152-408-5 $22.95
Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983 (Ronsdale, 2021) $21.95 978-1-55380-638-7
Keefer Street (Ronsdale, 2024) $24.95 9781553807209
[Photo: Yvonne De Carlo]
[BCBW 2024] "Film"
***
Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983
by David Spaner (Ronsdale $21.95)
Review by Rod Mickleburgh (BCBW 2022)
On a single, unforgettable day in B.C.—July 7, 1983—26 government bills came down the chute striking at the very heart of longstanding union and societal rights. Oversight of human rights, tenant rights, employment standards and more was abolished. Government employees had their contract gutted and all public sector employers in the province were given the power to fire employees without cause.
It was truly a revolution of the right wing.
People fought back with a revolution of their own. Under the banner of Operation Solidarity, occupations and record large protest marches took place across the province. When nothing changed, there was job action that brought B.C. to the verge of an all-out general strike.
Despite these dramatic events, nothing of any depth has been written about it, beyond labour historian Bryan Palmer’s useful but overly-partisan book, Solidarity: The Rise and and Fall of an Opposition in British Columbia (New Star, 1987) published 35 years ago, and last year’s Tranquille & Battle for Community Care in B.C. (Nightwood 2020) by the late Gary Steeves on the three-week occupation of the Tranquille residential facility in Kamloops.
Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983 is a welcome addition to the surprisingly thin library of books on one of the largest, most broad-based political protests in Canadian history. Over four turbulent months in the summer and fall of 1983, hundreds of thousands of British Columbians were caught up in the massive fightback against the wave of repressive legislation brought in by Premier Bill Bennett’s freshly-elected Social Credit government.
Solidarity is far from a comprehensive history. That remains to be written. Rather, David Spaner focuses on the non-union partner of Operation Solidarity, the Solidarity Coalition. There is comparatively little about unions and the labour movement, which, after all, co-founded and co-funded Operation Solidarity with the Coalition, as well as providing the picket line muscle that started the uprising down the path to a general strike. There are background bios of many of the activists featured in the book, giving it a folksy feel, but not much about Coalition leaders Renate Shearer, Father Jim Roberts and the fascinating history of BC Federation of Labour president, Art Kube who also headed Operation Solidarity.
Concentrating on the Coalition, where Spaner’s sympathies lie, is not a bad thing. Largely ignored by a media that concentrated on a “what next?” mentality, it’s a story that cries out to be told. But the result is an incomplete, somewhat one-sided account.
The Coalition was the broad-based organization of community advocates, activists and social movements that drove the fight on social issues. Stretching into every nook and cranny of the province, they represented the heart and soul of Operation Solidarity, giving it credibility and proof that it was more than a self-interested crusade by unions. The welding of these two disparate groups—the inspired brainchild of Art Kube—was unprecedented. Operation Solidarity would never have been the force it was without the Coalition.
It is refreshing to revisit those heady times through the eyes of those who threw themselves into the Coalition. Spaner provides good descriptions of the endless organizing, unwieldy but respectful marathon meetings, and grassroots decision-making that went on. The chapter on feminism and the strong role played by women in the fightback is particularly good. “It brought all those people together in such a short period of time,” participant and now speaker of the Legislature, Raj Chouhan tells the author. “It was quite a phenomenon, you know, like when you saw people from the faith groups, socialist types, or women’s rights, suddenly together.” They galvanized many British Columbians to join a protest for the first time in their lives.
But at times, the book loses focus by drifting off into quirky tangents such as socialist history going back to the First International, tales of old lefties, endearing though they are, musical memories from Vancouver’s past and tales of Barkerville and Wells. There are also errors. It was the Fraser River gold rush that prompted establishment of the Colony of British Columbia in 1858, not the 1860s gold rush at Barkerville. There are others, none fatal.
In the end, it mostly came to nought. With 70,000 public sector workers already on the picket line, ferry workers and bus drivers were due to walk out the following Monday morning. By then, however, the government had backed down on its anti-union bills and Operation Solidarity leaders wanted out. With Kube sidelined by pneumonia, International Woodworkers of America (IWA) leader, Jack Munro flew to Kelowna to negotiate a deal with Premier Bill Bennett. Solidarity’s Coalition partners were frozen out. It was now a union show. Late Sunday night, November 13, as the province held its breath, Munro and Bennett announced the strike was over. The so-called Kelowna Accord contained nothing that addressed social issues.
Left in the dark back in Vancouver, members of the Coalition, many of whom had put their personal lives on hold for months, were devastated. Spaner gives them justifiable voice. “We were all in tears,” recounts tireless social justice advocate Patsy George. “It was a horrible betrayal.” Self-styled “hoarder of records” Sara Diamond was so upset she threw out all her records from Solidarity and the Coalition.
Despite the ennobling harmony of the summer, the gap between unions and social groups proved too wide to be bridged. Spaner puts all the blame on the labour side, disparaging what he calls “obsolete unionism.” It’s an odd term for what was the most militant labour movement in Canada, reflecting an imperfect understanding of how unions work. The Coalition’s vote for a general strike to be carried out by unions, not Coalition members, irritated many in the private sector.
Munro, who unleashed a barrage of disparaging remarks of his own about members of the Coalition, takes his lumps, including withering criticism from then BC Teachers’ Federation president Larry Kuehn, one of Solidarity’s heroes for leading 30,000 teachers out on an illegal strike, as the first wave of Solidarity’s general strike.
Despite its faults, we should be grateful that David Spaner has given us this account. His book reminds us that there was a time when British Columbians united in common resolve to stand up for justice and human rights, and anything, even the political surrender of a government, seemed possible. Spaner is right to conclude: “The Solidarity uprising of 1983 gave us a glimpse of what could be. [It] was far greater than its anticlimactic ending.”
Such a time it was. 978-1-55380-638-7
Rod Mickleburgh co-authored with Geoff Meggs, The Art of the Impossible: Dave Barrett & the NDP in Power, 1972-1975 (Harbour). It won the Hubert Evans Prize in 2013.
***
Keefer Street by David Spaner (Ronsdale Press $24.95).
Review by Grant Buday (BCBW 2024)
For a good introduction to 1930s Vancouver, pick up a copy of David Spaner’s novel, Keefer Street. It follows the life and times of Jake Feldman, a Jewish kid growing up in the neighbourhood of Strathcona, home to people of Chinese, Irish and Jewish descent.
The young Jake is interested in baseball and shooting pool, but the hard times soon politicize him. It is, after all, the “Dirty Thirties” when most countries around the world entered into deep recessions. By 1931, unemployment reached 28 percent in British Columbia — the highest in Canada. Thousands of unemployed men went to rural BC work camps, including Jake. These make-work programs didn’t pan out.
While employed at a government relief camp, Jake joins a protest over the lousy wages where two weeks of moving dirt earns him less than two dollars.
He falls in with a group of his fellow dissatisfied workers. “We unveil a black and yellow banner: Relieve the Relief Campers. Workers Not Beggars,” Jake recounts. He and 208 others soon find themselves in Oakalla Prison for the night. His life as an activist has begun. He also reads Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie, about the sweatshops of Chicago. In Germany, Hitler is on the rise.
Jake’s youth is counterpointed by chapters set in 1986 at the fifty-year reunion of the “Mac-Paps” in Spain. The Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion was the Canadian contingent of volunteers who went to fight General Franco and fascism in the years 1936 to 1939. The Mac-Paps were named after William Lyon Mackenzie and Louis-Joseph Papineau. Mackenzie led a revolution against something called the Family Compact in Toronto in 1837; Papineau did the same in Montreal. The Family Compact was a group who were thought to be preventing democracy from flourishing by keeping control of land and politics to themselves.
Jake’s early years are the most dramatic in Keefer Street. For example, when the Nazi warship, Karlsruhe, docks at the Ballantyne Pier in March 1935, Jake joins a mass protest. The range of the people standing against the Nazis in Vancouver is fascinating.
David Spaner sets the scene: “The waterfront is decorated in banners: Relief Camp Workers Against Fascism, One Big Union, Finnish Organization of Canada, International Typographical Union, Red International, Railway Carmen, Communist Party, Chinese Unemployed Association, Anti-Nazi Coalition, Mayday Committee, Pacific Coast Fishermen’s Union, Co-operative Commonwealth Federation, Ukrainian Anti-Fascist League, Waterfront Workers Association, Order of Sleeping Car Porters, Hotel and Restaurant Employees Union, Jewish Workers Circle.”
In one of the book’s most intense incidents, Jake and others board the Karlsruhe and a battle ensues. Fighting his way to the prow he burns the Nazi flag before getting punched out and waking up in jail for the second time.
Such scenes as this, as well as the book’s cover, which shows a man with his right fist defiantly raised, implies that Keefer Street is a novel about war and protest. Yet it’s not until halfway through that Jake sets off for Spain’s civil war, and the novel is nearly finished before we see any action—he gets shot in the leg and is tended in the hospital by an American nurse named Rebecca.
When Jake returns to Vancouver, he finds himself blackballed for having volunteered in support of the Spanish Civil War’s Republican cause and can’t find work. In fact, he can’t even volunteer for the Canadian Forces to return to Europe for World War II.
His personal life is just as disheartening. Lena, with whom he’d been in love, has gone to Toronto. Jake’s friends who stayed home are thriving. His father, who abandoned the family some years earlier and returned to the fictional northern town of Fort Harold, is running a successful clothing store and is involved with a new woman. What’s Jake going to do? For a while he contemplates changing his name to Jack Fields to skirt the antisemitism he feels is holding him back. As for his interest in politics, it seems to have faded and he has no particular desire to do anything else other than shoot the occasional game of pool. Eventually he marries Polly, an old friend, and when his father dies they move to Fort Harold, take over the store and raise three kids. The decades pass. Yet Polly, an aspiring actress, is bored. She finally takes the kids and leaves for Los Angeles; when Jake eventually follows, she says it’s over.
Keefer Street is solidly written and full of interesting historical detail. The depiction of Jewish life and the links with family members in Toronto and New York give the impression of a strong and pervasive ethnic interconnectedness.
The bright spot in Jake’s otherwise bleak life is his reunion with Rebecca, the nurse who tended him when he was recovering from his gunshot wound in 1936. Rebecca is still politically active. They visit a Spanish hospital where she is invited to give a talk. “When Rebecca is called to the microphone, it is the first time I’ve heard her speak in public and I’m taken by her eloquence and her manner,” says Jake. “Talking with her hands as much as her voice, in Spanish as much as in English, she tells of the urgent needs for medical supplies in Nicaragua, likening its conditions, under bombs and bullets, to Spain.”
Even fifty years later, she’s fighting the good fight. Jake finds strength in this. He and Rebecca connect and fall for each other. In the final scene they are in British Columbia together on serene and bucolic Hornby Island.
“Rebecca and I turn onto a dirt road to a cottage on the water, set in a garden of fern, bramble, violet.
“And we rest.” 9781553807209
Grant Buday’s historical fiction novels, Orphans of Empire (Brindle & Glass, 2020) and In the Belly of the Sphinx (Brindle & Glass, 2023) tell of the late 19th century lives of settlers in Vancouver and Victoria respectively.
Articles: 1 Article for this author
Dreaming in the Rain: How Vancouver Became Hollywood North by Northwest
Article
Long before Pamela Anderson was born in Ladysmith, Yvonne De Carlo was born on September 1, 1922 in Vancouver as Margaret Yvonne Middleton. Nicknamed Peggy, the star of Hollywood films such as The Ten Commandments commanded the romantic attentions of Howard Hughes and later played Lily Munster in the TV series The Munsters.
As The Province film critic David Spaner recalls in Dreaming in the Rain: How Vancouver Became Hollywood North by Northwest (Arsenal Pulp $21.95), 'Peggy' Middleton grew up on Comox Street in the West End and worked as an usher at the Orpheum Theatre long before Margot Kidder, who later played Lois Lane to Christopher Reeve's Superman, worked as an usher at the Varsity Theatre. With the help of band leader Dal Richards, leggy Miss Peggy badgered Palomar supper club owner Hymie Singer to let her do a dance number with top hat and cane, having trained at the June Roper School of Dancing.
Not long after heading to Hollywood in 1942, Yvonne De Carlo was billed as "the most beautiful girl in the world."; But she was by no means the first Canuck pin-up girl in Tinseltown. The first three actresses to win Academy Awards were Mary Pickford, Marie Dressler and Norma Shearer-all Canadians. As Charles Foster makes clear in Once Upon a Time in Paradise: Canadians in the Golden Age of Hollywood (Dundurn $35), the success of Canadian comics such as Jim Carrey, John Candy and Mike Myers is only one more stage in a long-running tradition of invasion. MGM studio boss Louis B. Mayer was from New Brunswick, Jack Warner of Warner Brothers hails from Ontario and Mack Sennett, the 'King of Comedy,' went south to silent screen stardom from Quebec.
Concentrating on the backlot of B.C., Spaner recalls:
? An early art director from Victoria, Richard Day, won seven Oscars for films such as How Green Was My Valley, A Streetcar Named Desire and On the Waterfront.
? In 1922, local actress Mary Livingstone (having changed her name from Sadie Marksmet) met a touring vaudeville comic named Benny Kubelsky who played the Orpheum with the Marx Brothers. She married him before he changed his stage name to Jack Benny.
? The first Vancouverite to win an Oscar, actor Victor McLaglen, originally found the spotlight when he was a last-minute replacement to fight heavyweight champ Jack Johnson in Vancouver in 1909.
? Humphrey Bogart gave some of his most memorable performances (The Caine Mutiny, Crossfire) when he was directed by Edward Dmytryk, from Grand Forks.
? A horse is a horse, of course, of course, unless he's the famous Mr. Ed., the talking horse in a series that starred Alan Young of Victoria.
? Vancouver born Barbara Parkins, who starred in Valley of the Dolls, was the first actress to return home to play lead in a movie, the unheralded Christina, in 1974.
Spaner went to the effort of tracking down Beverly Aadland, who was 50-year-old Errol Flynn's 17-year-old escort when he came to Vancouver to sell his yacht, The Zaca-and died-in 1959. Now living in northern California under a married name, Aadland is pictured in the book with the 'devilish Tasmanian' wearing her bikini poolside, but only one picture survives of the pair in Vancouver, when it was raining. "That's why he had a bowler hat on,"; Aadland says, "and my hair was all wet in that one picture that was taken at the airport.";
Aadland was long vilified in the press as a bad girl, but Flynn had already faced statutory rape charges and been linked to the Nazis prior to his demise at a 1310 Burnaby Street apartment on October 14. When Aadland was told at the Vancouver General emergency that Flynn was dead, she went berserk. "I guess I went hysterical,"; she says. "I was banging my head and my hands on the ground and they took me off to a room. I think I was in a straitjacket because I was trying to get into the room with him.";
Dreaming in the Rain is most useful as a primer for anyone entering the local film industry. Although Spaner's overview is selective, it contains a valuable summary of the first independent feature made in Vancouver in the modern era, plus its banned follow-ups.
A UBC theatre student named Larry Kent-influenced by the remarkable films screened by Varsity Theatre manager Don Barnes-wrote and produced Bitter Ash for $5,000 in 1963. The censor banned it before it was viewed due to bare breasts on screen and the words 'shit' and 'piss' in the dialogue. "The virginal, puritanical attitude that was held by the establishment had nothing to do with reality."; Kent told Spaner. Undeterred, Kent made Sweet Substitute in an impromptu manner, again using local actors, followed by When Tomorrow Dies, co-written with novelist Robert Harlow.
Spaner credits Kent as being the founding father of Vancouver independent film. Undoubtedly there will be those who disagree. In the aftermath of Kent came Morrie Ruvinsky and The Plastic Mile. Its lead actor, Jace Van Der Veen, was discovered when he was hitchhiking home from UBC as a theatre student. Ruvinsky picked him up and asked if he'd like to be in a movie with another UBC theatre student named Pia Shandel. The B.C. censor Ray McDonald banned the movie because it contained a scene in which Shandel experienced an orgasm. "This wasn't Larry Kent,"; she recalls. "Larry Kent came out of UBC and was considered a little bit sordid, and he was kind of a bit wicked. But this was going to be a legitimate movie, you know. And the director Morrie was from Montreal so it had a bit of pan-Canadianism to it.";
The Plastic Mile was scheduled to premiere at the 1969 Vancouver Film Festival awards-night gala at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. When protestors objected to a replacement film, singing "We Shall Overcome,"; Ruvinsky was invited to speak, supported by Festival president Ben Metcalfe. Everyone wanted to see the movie, but the projectionists refused to defy the censor. "So I went up to the projection booth and I got the film,"; Ruvinsky tells Spaner. "I put the five reels up on the stage and I said, 'Well, now, here you can see The Plastic Mile.'"; Encouraged by laughter, Ruvinsky picked up a pair of scissors and went strolling through the aisles of the QE Theatre, cutting up his film "so everybody could have their own piece of The Plastic Mile and get to see a little bit of it.";
Dreaming 1-55152-129-6
[BCBW Winter 2003]
