Works °11 — JOHN T DAVIS

interview by John O’Regan

ISBN 978 0946641 321     32 pages (paperback)     20 x 15 cm     17 illus

John T Davis’s first experience of film-making came about through a chance encounter with the legendary film-maker DA Pennebaker in Belfast in 1966. Many gritty and challenging films were to follow, such as Shell Shock Rock, about the emerging punk music scene in Northern Ireland, Route 66, Power in the Blood, and probably his finest work, Hobo, all filmed in the US. Stills from these and many more films are reproduced here in rich duotone, accompanied by an engrossing and lively interview with the film-maker.

EXTRACT

"I knew all the railroad songs, Jimmy Rodgers, Woodie Guthrie and the blues, and Credence Clearwater Revival – no rock’n’roll without the railroads. But it takes something to actually inspire you to do it. I had read an article by Bruce Duffy who’d been to the hobo convention, and I had a book called Good Company full of these wonderful pictures of hobos from ten years before. I knew that stuff was happening in the 30s and 40s, but here it was only ten years ago. I wondered was it still happening. I flew from Canada to Washington to meet Bruce. He gave me the introduction to ‘Beargrease’, and I decided the only way to do this was to ride the train to Seattle with him and see what it was like. I couldn’t have made Hobo without having done that journey, lived through the dangers and fears with those people...
          It takes a while for a stranger to walk into the ‘jungle’ [encampment] and have confidence – it doesn’t come quickly. But having got on the train and ridden with some of these people... It puts you through a lot of shit and at the end of the day that creates a bond. When you meet someone further down the line that you’ve met before, it’s all the craic of the day. It’s frightening to think that these men have had everything you’ve had – job, family, health, money – and then suddenly it’s all wiped out. It’s as fragile as that. It’s very hard to get to know these people because they don’t want to be known by the fact that they’re out on the rails. They’re running away either from themselves or the law or whatever it may be. It’s really a case of survival. If you go quietly through the night and nobody sees you, you’re less likely to be rumbled or jack-rolled. It’s a very solitary existence in many ways. At times I wished the whole thing was over, and then there would be another thousand miles to go. One time I rode the rails from Whitefish, Montana, down to Pasco and back up to Spogaloo, and went through all sorts of shit and potential violence from the home guard of the FTRA [Freight Train Riders of America] with their pick-axes and baseball bats. There are one hundred and one ways to die out on the rails every day.

— John T Davis in conversation