Emily Gan is a Chinese-Canadian photographer, filmmaker, and video artist born and based in Montréal. Gan has travelled across Canada, the US, India, and Malaysia working on various independent documentaries. In fiction, she worked closely with editor Martin Pensa as an assistant editor on “Dallas Buyers Club.”

“Cavebirds” will premiere at the 2019 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival on April 28.

W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.

EG: “Cavebirds” is a personal essay film where I track my dad’s progress as he builds an edible-nest swiftlet birdhouse in his hometown—a small village in Malaysia he left more than half a lifetime ago.

The edible-nest swiftlet is a bird from Southeast Asia known for their valued nests made entirely out of bird spit that serve as the main ingredient in a Chinese delicacy known as “bird’s nest soup.” The industry that farms these edible nests provides the backdrop to the film.

I interview my father about matters of the heart, home, and heritage. We travel to the places we call home located on opposite sides of the globe— Montreal and Malaysia—while the birds, ever-present, become a conduit between my immigrant father and me.

W&H: What drew you to this story?

EG: I first thought of making “Cavebirds” when my father told me he invested in a bird farm. It was December 2011, and I was home for the holidays. He was talking about his upcoming trip to Malaysia. Nearing retirement, he had started flying overseas every year, back to his hometown, mostly to spend time with his now late father.

I listened to my dad describe the bird farming industry. It was clear in that moment that he and I viewed life quite differently. My father, a Chinese-Malaysian-Canadian immigrant, and I, his second generation artist daughter, sat staring out at a snow-covered yard, talking about a construction site halfway across the world. “Cavebirds” was thus born out of an attempt for me to understand why he was investing in something so far away from our home in Montreal—and so late in his life.

Mostly I remember the feeling of when the idea “clicked” in my head. I was at my parents’ place watering their plants while they were out of town. The film, I decided, would be a portrait of a home—which was the original working title—with my dad in the foreground and the birds in the background; with those two subjects, I would be able to explore the theme of home.

It all made sense in that moment. It just felt right. I could not really predict how the rest of the process would play out. I just had all these romantic notions of bird chasing and capturing field recordings, and I longed for the warm tropical weather. So, on a whim, I bought a ticket to Malaysia to begin research on the film.

W&H: What do you want people to think about when they are leaving the theater?

EG: People who see my film will definitely know a little bit more about me. Hopefully, the personal will touch on the universal, and the audience can come away from the film thinking and talking about their own stories that relate to my themes of family, home, and legacy. There is a sense of awe when we look up into the sky or when we observe the flight of birds, so I don’t mind if people’s minds wander.

W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?

EG: Time, financing, and personal relationships. Making “Cavebirds” was a lonely endeavor that took close to eight years to complete. I directed, produced, shot, and edited the film alone, save for a two-week period when I had another cameraperson with me.

Pointing the lens at family members was challenging as well, though the support and participation from my family was of great help and made the film possible.

W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made. 

EG: The film was funded by public funding in Quebec and Canada. The Canada Council for the Arts gave me an Emerging Artist Grant in 2013 of $20k. I put in about that much over the seven-plus years of making this film, plus there was a lot of time unaccounted for since I edited the film myself. I worked throughout these years as a full-time yoga teacher and freelance photographer. In 2018, I received $1.5k from Société Civile des Auteurs Multimédia. I chose not to crowdfund the film mostly because I did not have the time or energy to put a campaign together.

The film was only possible with the participation and support of my parents and my extended family in Malaysia who offered, among other things, lodging and food while I was in Malaysia.

W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?

EG: I come from photography with various interests and capabilities. I find cinema to be an art form that satisfies all my tendencies—whether it be wanting to work with image or sound or writing. I like researching and brainstorming new ideas. I like the technology behind filmmaking as well, and I like how projects also require a team of skilled collaborators. I have always been drawn to the people in this community—most are people I admire and who lift me up in the world.

W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?

EG: Best advice: First, don’t interrupt—listen. Second, it’s great to be fluid, but know what your focus is—know what you are committed to. The latter piece of advice was a takeaway from a discussion I had with my second camera person, Thomas Kimmerlin Poupart, when he told me to stop “going with the flow.” Who knows—that could be read as the worst advice too!

Worst advice: unsolicited advice

W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?

EG: Commit to being kind, not only to others, but also to yourself. I believe showing true kindness takes a lot of energy. Understanding how to be kind to myself has been the key to knowing what my boundaries are. Boundaries are important, especially in the nature of this work, where one will surely find themselves in various unpredictable situations.

W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.

EG: “The Gleaners and I,” by Agnès Varda. This film is such a delight to watch. It is honest and curious and a celebration of life and of people and what they treasure. Varda gleans from the gleaners in the film—and I have gleaned so much from her films over the years.

W&H: It’s been a little over a year since the reckoning in Hollywood and the global film industry began. What differences have you noticed since the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements launched?

EG: In my exchanges with others touched by the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, I notice the difference in how people share their experiences. There is more confidence and self-assuredness that can only come from the feeling of support—of knowing that we are not alone.

I know there is much work to be done still, but I have noticed that things are shifting, both on a smaller, personal scale and on a larger scale, like the policies in Canada.