CINEMA TODAY interviews Lazare Leersørn

I sit uneasily in a shabby bistro across from former lead singer of the Finnish new wave band 'The Coppertubs' and producer of the British television series, 'Wee Lil' Fontelroy,' Lazare Leersørn.
I pretend it's Spring allergies and not his cigarette smoke that's bothering my eyes. I'm curious to know what attracted him to experimental filmmaking and how he felt having become the visionary pacesetter, avant-garde golden boy director of the cultish underground film world.
CT: Why experimental films?
LL: Why not? (laughs) No, split the word experimental up, experi-mental, and you've got your answer.
CT: Your first film "Papa Caught a Cottontail" breaks one of those old rules of filmmaking: 'don't work with animals.' Did you find this to be true?
LL: Well, yeah, I mean, I'm not going to tell you it was easy working with over 200 female cottontail rabbits besides Papa, the shaved male, running this way and that. And if you've seen it, you know its over two hours of Papa trying to catch cottontails in a fenced-in meadow, much more difficult than it seemed on paper. But in the end it was all well worth it, especially with lapin à la moutarde à la cocotte every night of the week! (smacks his lips) Did you see it?
CT: Yes, I did, but not the whole thing (laughs). It was your next film that really brought you international attention. Could you tell us about it?
LL: (clears throat) Yeah, it's "Hedgetrimmer's Daughter." It's the tale of a piano tuner who watches his work dwindle away to nothing and so turns to trimming hedges for more income. And he thinks, if someone's going to hire me to trim their hedges, my own had better look damn good, so it becomes an obsession for him, really. It's three hours of him trimming his hedges through the four seasons as seen by his daughter through her bedroom window. Funny how people tell me that they saw images in the hedges that I'd thrown in digitally or whatever, but, they don't know that in fact, it was their own minds trying to keep them entertained during the more tedious trimming scenes.
CT: Like what kinds of things have people 'seen?'
LL: Well, I've had gaggles of art school girls send me existentialist texts with highlighted Sartre quotes, I've gotten e-mails from potheads who've seen Marley in the hedge shadows, other hippies have seen nature spirits, I've received hedge inspired paintings and poetry. Oh, and some politicians have seen it as a commentary on the bad economy, and God, maybe all these elements are in there, but I didn't do it consciously . But that was kind of my point, you know, that's why I made this film.
CT: And the sound track?
LL: Well, yeah, an untuned piano played by a marvelous elephant in India named Nero. (laughs) Which, by the way, is not available on iTunes.
CT: And what are you working on now?
LL: I'm working on a documentary based on the cookbook I've just published called, "Pressure Cooker." It's about experimental cooking with pressure cookers under pressure. The idea was sparked when I invited a whole gang of friends over one Saturday night and found I'd totally forgotten about it. So I was sweating bullets, with nothing but a few odd left overs, near expired kitchen staples, and a brand new pressure cooker still in the box that I was planning on regifting. But it turned out to be a brilliant meal. So I tried to make all the recipes in the book include back of the pantry type of ingredients. And I give clues as how to simulate that sense-heightening pressure-terror I find necessary to throw together an unforgettable meal for a hungry crowd. I really can't say enough good about my book because there are vintage photos of pressure cookers, the history of this appliance that I've just really discovered, and also interviews with people around the globe who love and use them. Look out also for our PG-13 issue of "Pressure Cooker" that will be released in conjunction with the film.
CT: PG-13 issue?
LL: Yeah, doing all this research on pressure cookers, I found loads of deaths and accidents due to them exploding. As well as loads of weak-hearted chefs who died when the pressure got too great in the kitchen. The documentary is less about recipes and more about the stories, the people. I'm also working with an Italian manufacturer to eventually develop my own line of designer pressure cookers in really bold colors. The Leersørn.
CT: To the many people who think that this sort of experimental filmmaking approach died with Andy Warhol's 'The 24 Hour Movie,' for example, what do you say?
LL: Get a life! (laughs) No, really, I know experimental films aren't everyone's cup of tea. The public wants diversions, you get home from work, turn on the t.v., watch a Hollywood exploder, get lost in a romance, you know, do what you can to wind down and forget about the humdrum doldrums or tensions of the day. Anyone can tell you that, there'll always be a market for it. There's an audience out there, though, that is young, or young at heart, that doesn't have anything to escape from, they don't have to cope with a hard reality, they want to learn more about it, to connect with something sacred within it and I like to think I can provide them with a viewing option B. Or C, rather. Maybe they'll feel something new if I prod them visually into a state of confusion, or extreme boredom that turns into hilarity, a searching for meaning that turns into revelation or discomfort I'm not sure...

He got a dreamy look in his eye as he press-twisted his cigarette butt into the ashtray and after ordering a coffee for us both, told me about a dream he'd had, but it was so long and detailed that I found my mind falling to other things....