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Some soldiers die. Some people recover.
And for some soldiers, many soldiers, the wound never closes.
“This Isn’t a War Story,” which Talia Lugassi will screen at Teaneck’s Puffin Cultural Forum Saturday at 8 p.m., is a film about those soldiers. And we’re covering some of them as well.
Walter Nygard is one of them. He is a Vietnam veteran who served in the Marine Corps from his 1969 until his 1970. He is a poet, visual artist, and has lived in Teaneck since 1980. He comes from a military family, both his father and his son served in the Army.
Jean Barry is one too. He served in the Army Air Corps in Vietnam in 1962 and 1963. He is also a Teaneck resident. He is also an artist, writer, and journalist. He worked for 21 years at The Record as a city reporter.
In this dramatic story about a veteran Marine in crisis (Lugasy), both men play more or less themselves, veterans dealing with their own mental crises through art and poetry. Falling into a group of fellow spirits. They support each other, acknowledge each other, and understand each other. They get nothing, even though much of the world is eternally grateful for their service. they.
“Are you thanking me for blowing up schools and blowing up hospitals?” one of them says. “Thank you for slaughtering my family? Are you grateful to MST?” [military sexual trauma] Or burn the pit? ”
wounded warriors
This is an anti-war movie. But this – let me be clear – is not an anti-soldier film.
“It’s a good movie. It’s grim and tough and gritty, but ultimately I think it’s hopeful,” Nygard said.
A big part of the inspiration for Lugasy’s film was Frontline Arts’ prepress facility in Branchburg, Somerset County.
Nygard’s group of veteran artists creates art using something called “frontline paper,” made from pulped military uniforms, duffel bags and other soldiers’ remains.
It may be demeaning to call it “art therapy.” They are real artists who create authentic art. But the simple act of coming together socially and creating art in a group setting – art made from war materials – all too often poses problems. and War, Barry said, is a way to process many things that might otherwise be too painful to talk about.
“None of us are therapists,” said Barry, a member of Nygard’s group. “We’re doing something fun, something communal. It’s very important to be part of a community. It’s the nature of veterans to distance themselves from people. You don’t want to be in a crowd. We tend to avoid having long-term relationships. lost People in intense relationships. It is important to be a part of a circle of people who are doing art and who are continuing to do it. ”
a chance encounter
The film, which played at film festivals and many independent theaters in 2018, was born on the day Nygard and Lugasy met.
In 2016, he and several other veterans were conducting art workshops at Columbia University. They were making prints outside when a woman noticed it. “She was checking us out. She was like an artsy New York woman,” Nygard said. “I later found out that she was a film instructor at the New School and had a script.”
The initial idea that became “This Isn’t a War Story” was about a female veteran struggling to readjust to civilian life. But Lugasy, who had not served in the military, needed a concrete way to ground that idea. The idea for the Soldier Paper and Print Workshop was just the ticket.
“This was a way for her character to blend in with the many characters she spends her life with, by making paper out of the uniform,” Nygard said.
In order to write it into the script, she observed. She went to Branchburg and became a fly on the wall.
“For almost two years, she would come to Branchburg from Brooklyn and sit with us and do rags,” Nygard said. “She learned the same things we were doing. She learned how to use a whisk to beat the pulp into sheets. She was really cool. She fit right in. And in 2018, she said, ‘Okay, you guys are ready to make that movie?'”
That’s how Nygard, Barry, and the others officially learned that they would be starring in Lugassi’s film.
reality check
Although “This Isn’t a War Story” is set in Brooklyn (and many scenes were shot in Secaucus and upstate New York), the workshop depicted in the film is similar to Nygard’s workshop. . The trauma of war is depicted not in the flashbacks and explosions common in Hollywood, but as a drama in which closed-off people slowly, painfully, open up.
“One of the things she noticed in the workshops was that people were talking to each other when they were doing it,” said Barry, who has her own art projects. He is the New Jersey coordinator of the Warrior Writers project and author of “Waging Art: Tackling Grief and Trauma with Creative Arts.”
His work, along with that of Nygard and other veterans, is currently on display at Puffin through Feb. 29 in an exhibit also called “Waging Art.”
“There’s both sharing things that are hard to talk about, and there’s artwork that is the product of that sharing process,” Barry said.
A different kind of sharing occurred as a result of this film.
Film director Lugassi and printmakers Nygard and Barry ended up participating in each other’s art. Among all the difficult issues this film deals with, it was a welcome takeaway.
“She came out and learned how to outwork us,” Nygard said. “And she invited us to be a part of her. It was a really great experience.”
If you go…
“This Isn’t a War Story” Jan. 27, 8 p.m., Puffin Cultural Forum, 20 Puffin Way, Teaneck. Nygard, Barry and Lugassi will attend a post-film Q&A. A suggested donation of $10. Pre-registration is recommended: puffincultureforum.org.
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