Is storytelling a synonym for escapism? For a young Mackenzie Stannard, now a documentary-focused filmmaker, it certainly began that way. “I grew up in a small town in Alberta and for me, movies were a way to see another world. My first job was at the DVD store in town and I took full advantage of the free rentals,”, he tells LBB over a coffee.
Of course, that’s one of the very pure and genuine gifts of storytellers: The ability to transport. That magical capacity to visualise other, foreign places and emotionally captivating people was a childhood dopamine hit to a wide-eyed Mack and countless millions of others like him. And, when the magic trick was this good, who cared if those other worlds were real? What’s wrong, after all, with storytelling for storytelling’s sake?
But that was then. Now, for adult Mackenzie, things are - quite naturally - different. Today, his films are not flights of fantasy but windows into surprising, emotive, and fundamentally human realities.
Having initially pursued a career as a journalist through CBC, Mackenzie is happy to admit that journalistic practices and instinct are an integral part of his storytelling today. They inspire him to ask pertinent questions, and tenaciously run after leads with the never-quit enthusiasm of a dog chasing cars.
Through his films he’s less of a whimsical raconteur, and more of a kind of reality correspondent. And the frequent result has been documentary films whose central truths stick with you long after their credits roll.
“I don’t know that it’s fair for me to consider myself a journalist,” he says when asked to reflect on his time inside the industry. “My goal is to always capture ‘truth,’ but for me, reporting on facts is not the way I get there. My work and my process use what Werner Herzog calls ‘ecstatic truth’. Imagination, style, and my own lived experience come into play, so I can't really say that I’m being completely objective and journalistic. But I do love to observe, dissect, and try to reach a fundamental truth about the human experience. Reporting on the facts alone never quite felt right for me.”
And, happily, filmmaking has given him the perfect outlet through which to explore those ideals. “I was recently diagnosed with ADHD as an adult, so it makes sense why I couldn’t hack it sitting at a desk and typing out stories all day. I need to be doing new and different things”, he says. “That’s why producing and directing works so well for me – there is a never-ending list of new skills to learn in order to improve and refine my craftsmanship as a filmmaker.”
You can see that motivation to pursue, find, and explore truth running like a thread of yarn through Mackenzie’s work. Take In a New Light, for example, which tells the story of a retired police officer managing her PTSD with the help of her service dog, Stark.
Above: Whilst trauma is a central theme in In A New Light, its narrative also broadens out to community and the healing power of finding an emotional home. The documentary attracted plenty of plaudits, and was Mack’s directorial debut.
“I got to work on that project with one of my best friends, Ben Cox, and also Maddy Chang - who was a new producer that I had the privilege of coaching at the time, and since then she's grown into a very talented producer who has gone off on her own to do amazing things,” he says. “Like the majority of my non-commercial work, that film was about overcoming mental health challenges.”
There’s an exhilarating breadth to the topics Mackenzie sets his sights on, with almost no predicting the subject matter of his next project. As another example, take This Ink Runs Deep: A vivid and moving short documentary telling the story of indigenous tattoo artists across Canada. Or Joe Buffalo, which garnered a SXSW Audience Choice award and was picked up by the New Yorker. Recently Mackenzie premiered Union Street, the first feature documentary he has produced, at the Vancouver International Film Festival.
Above: Mack helped Union Street come to life as a producer and EP.
In recent years, he set up GOOD-IDEA with Ross Allen and Mitchell Baxter, as a home for the trio’s commercial work. It’s a venture that has helped Mack hone his craft as an executive producer. “There are definitely some growing pains in learning how to EP - but that growth is rewarding,” he acknowledges. “Plus, I enjoy having a creative homebase. We all do work on our own, but it feels good to belong to something where story is the primary objective.”
It’s striking how Mack’s approach to storytelling - putting in the hard yards and delving deep into humanity through empathy - fits within the broader picture of GOOD-IDEA, but also stands up on its own. Though a natural collaborator, his process is unique to him - and acts as a tool for his own self-discovery. “I learn a lot about myself through my documentaries,” he says. “I’m currently directing a doc called Constant Battles right now, about a female boxer who has ADHD. And through making this film, I was diagnosed with ADHD myself. I'm on medication now and, honestly, it has changed my life in such a positive way. I really want to tell more stories about neurodiversity, and I have a few in development that will hopefully get greenlit in the new year.”
Above: Mack’s upcoming film Constant Battles tells the gripping story of a boxer’s relationship with her mental health.
“I feel really lucky to have gotten help with my own mental health, and even luckier that I get to have a career where I tell stories about similar topics,” he says. “I am really leaning into making it my mission to break down the stereotypes surrounding mental health and neurodiversity through my work. Hopefully, people who watch the films that I’ve worked on will feel inspired to seek help, knowing that they too can get better.”
The purpose of his storytelling might have changed for Mack over the years, but the passion he has for it is undimmed. Somewhat lovingly, he refers to it as his ‘higher power’.
The comment comes towards the end of our conversation, as he’s asked what advice he would share with a young Mackenzie Stannard. “I’d advise myself to find a relationship with my higher power earlier – it will help you differentiate between truth and ego, and allow you to do better and more meaningful work.”.
It’s enigmatic, but earnest. In other words, it’s typical of Mackenzie Stannard. However he found his own higher power, and whatever it may be - we’re simply happy that he did.