When filmmaker Ondi Timoner met Anton Newcombe, founder of the psychedelic indie rock band Brian Jonestown Massacre, she had no idea she'd be devoting the next seven years of her life to following him and his band around the country as they tried to find success without yielding to the record industry. Below, Timoner shares the story of "DIG!," plus the scoop on her latest projects. — Rebecca Harper, Hulu.com

Hulu: How did you get involved with the Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Dandy Warhols?

Ondi Timoner: I was originally making a film about art colliding with commerce and how that affects the art, the music. I was going to focus on 10 bands on the verge of getting signed. I’d heard the Brian Jonestown Massacre and thought they were some band I’d never heard of from the ‘60s, but a friend told me “No, they’re alive and well and up in San Francisco. You should go talk to them.” I happened to be going to the Bay Area anyway, so I arranged to meet them, thinking at the time they’d be part of this film I was working on, called “The Cut.”

The first scene in “DIG!” is with Anton. It was his birthday and he’d shown up late for a show. The club told him, “Sorry, you can’t play” and he was so disappointed because he was excited to play for me. Anton is a larger-than-life character and I liked his music. He was trying to take on the music industry, telling me “I’m the letter writer and they’re the postmen.” I realized he had such an antagonistic approach to this business and it looked like it’d be a very dramatic way to study the industry. You had all the L.A. bands kowtowing to the business, and then you had the Brian Jonestown Massacre, who refused to do so. They played the Viper Room two weeks later and it ended in a fist fight. I was seeing all this self-sabotage.

Anton told me to forget all about those other bands, and that I needed to meet the Dandy Warhols. I argued with him that he was trying to take over my documentary. I just thought Anton was going to be part of a bigger film.
The Dandy Warhols were comfy-cozy in Portland and had no idea Anton was moving up there. They’d just signed a deal and had a lot of sense of who they were. They were more normal; they wanted to get their work out to the world and were willing to play the game. Courtney [Taylor, the Dandy’s lead singer] and the band thought that Brian Jonestown Massacre was the coolest rock ‘n roll band in America. Neither could posses what the other had: Anton rode the edge of insanity and the band went along with it. It’s like they read one too many Rolling Stone articles. Courtney was less prolific but looked up to Anton. He wouldn’t go to the edge like Anton; he wanted fame and fortune. Meanwhile, Anton kept destroying relationships, telling the industry they’re idiots. I thought I could look at the industry by focusing on these two bands.  A year later, I was still filming and the story kept unfolding.

I wanted to shoot a documentary like a narrative. When I shot “DIG!,” no other documentary had been shot like a film and I think that’s the reason there was no mass audience for documentaries. People looked at documentaries as though they were history lessons or like eating spinach — they’re too good for you to be really entertaining. I thought that if I can shoot life as it’s unfolding, and recreate the serendipity, people will realize it’s way more entertaining. Now it’s become quite commonplace; while I was working on this, “Hoop Dreams” did the same thing. We were blazing a trail, building a level of suspense.

So there I was, at 23 years old, filming everything. Four years later my brother and I sat down, suddenly realizing that we had thousands of hours of footage. Other editors would come on and leave. And when you’re editing for four years, why not keep filming? It was my life all that time; I was sharing my diary with the world. I honestly didn’t think people would give a sh*t. I just thought it was important to finish this piece, to make it something digestible. I gave birth to my son the week I submitted it to Sundance. I just knew I didn’t want to carry this rock with me into motherhood. Instead, it provided a different kind of upbringing for my son — he’d been to 17 countries before he was 2 years old.

Why choose to have Courtney narrate the film?

Courtney was a huge breakthrough for me. I’d attempted to tell the story without narration, but I needed an anchor. I didn’t want omniscient narration; I wanted it to be a ride, a journey. So I woke up very pregnant in the middle of the night a month and a half before I finished. I called Courtney right away. He happened to be in Europe at the time, but he was flying into L.A. the next day. He didn’t change any of my words; he was gracious and generous. I appreciate him for that.

“DIG!" ended up winning the Grand Jury Prize at the 2004 Sundance Film Festival. What was that like for you?

It was a bit like a fairy tale. There I was, sharing my most personal work with audience. Sundance is an incredible incubator for film. My first Q&A went on until the theater closed. I was so surprised. I still had 11 edits I wanted to do, but people loved it. It was a very supportive environment. I had no idea what it would mean to win. I was able to travel the world because of this film and I’m so grateful for that. 

When “We Live in Public” (weliveinpublicthemovie.com) won the Grand Jury Prize this year, you became the first filmmaker to win the honor twice. Can you tell us a little about this project?

I shot “We Live in Public” at the same time as “DIG!” In the interim, I made the film “Join Us” (joinusthemovie.com because “We Live in Public” wasn’t ready. Technology and society hadn’t caught up to the film yet.

It’s about Josh Harris, the founder of Jupiter Communications and the first Internet TV network, Pseudo.com, before there was broadband. He was pushed out of his company and created a bunker in New York City in the millennium. FEMA shut it down on New Year’s Day as a millennial cult. It had a firing range, people could eat three meals a day, and there was around-the-clock entertainment. In exchange, people had to give up their privacy 100 percent. They had to shower and use the toilet in public; they were interrogated. It really says something about the power of the camera, and people’s drive for the chance to be part of something.

Once it was shut down in 2006, he rigged his loft with cameras and microphones and said he and his girlfriend were going to be the first couple to conceive their baby in public. He thought this was the future. His girlfriend ultimately leaves him — she can’t live under the public’s scrutiny — and he loses his money. The chatters were interfering with his relationship and he became overloaded on technology. He mediated his whole life on cameras. It’s a cautionary tale, but he was also a visionary, creating something thought-provoking for the rest of us, as social networks are becoming more prevalent. I think we often find ourselves boxed in by Blackberries and iPhones; we’re starting to spend more time in virtual worlds than in our physical world. It’s not a life and death thing, but there are still people committing suicide over things on MySpace.

“We Live in Public” follows his story over 10 years, and our story over the same period, from pre-broadband to today. It’s starting a lot of conversation. It’s gone on from Sundance to premiere at the Museum of Modern Art as part of their first live webcast. It was an incredible event, with a Q&A that turned into a town hall meeting, getting a passionate response. It’s been added to MoMA’s permanent collection, my second film in their collection [joining DIG!].

And now you’re working on a film about Robert Mapplethorpe, the controversial photographer who rose to fame in the 1970s and ‘80s.

Eliza Dushku and I optioned the rights to his story with Patti Smith. He’s important and his story remains untold. He pushed the boundaries of what are is. He needed to be loved and to express what is beautiful. He shot some things that are so taboo, things that society considers taboo. He was saying, “Here I am, I’m taboo. If you see this as beautiful, then you can love me.” It’s an exciting story to tell.

© 2009 Hulu, LLC