When we ask Jono Namara to share more about himself, he quotes Oscar Wilde: “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” The 33-year-old has been involved in various guises both on and off-camera, although the screenwriter and director roles are where he feels the most comfortable.
Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
– Oscar Wilde
Namara speaks with us while working on pre-production for his latest project, a history documentary on Japan. He was ultimately inspired to create the film after previously living in Tokyo, which motivated him to take a deep dive into the country’s rich culture and past. Namara currently splits his time between New York and London, working on assignments that range from documentaries and news-related reportages to narrative short films and commercials.
His travels, of course, have been limited over the last year in the same way everyone else has been forced to limit travel. Talking with me over Zoom from his office, we discuss the post-COVID-19 world being ushered into society. It will be within that coveted vaccine promised land that he can again film freely and traverse in search of the stories that most compel him.
In recent weeks, Namara has received praise within the creative industry following the release of “Floating Gold,” a fictional narrative film in collaboration with fashion label MCQ (a faction of Alexander McQueen) that can now be viewed online. Since its launch last fall, MCQ has gained rapid traction, achieving widespread success within the fashion industry. The brand has no singular creative director with each collection being a collaborative and creative fashion line that’s ever-shifting. Items of clothing are blockchain registered to ensure that each item and its ownership, is unique. Namara shot the project along the rugged English seaside landscape. Amid that backdrop, he managed to make a beautiful and engaging film from what otherwise could have been a bland fashion campaign. Namara’s strengths, as the film makes evident, lie in his ability to dream, to conjure up creative visions from his imagination, and to direct others with both certitude and ease on set. The groundwork for those strengths to later emerge was likely laid in his youth.
Namara grew up on a steady diet of ‘80s Hollywood blockbusters, which he zealously recorded from terrestrial TV onto VHS tapes and then replayed each until the tape wore thin. “Despite being a self-effacing child, I dreamt of transmogrifying into Luke Skywalker, Indiana Jones, or Dick Tracy, plucking up the courage to perform derring-do’s and rescuing the pretty girl who I would always fancy.” As he slunk into early adulthood, his interest turned to the minds that make magic happen, specifically Spielberg and Lucas at first, and later Lean, Kurawawsa, and Cameron.
Despite those early passions, Namara had no formal education or training in his line of work. He read, watched, asked questions, and soaked up everything around him. And then he picked up a camera and started filming. To his success, Namara attributes luck, considering himself fortunate for being an urban dweller. As such, he rotated in creative circles where he has been afforded constant inspiration and access to incredible characters and scenes along the way.
At present, Namara is moving toward writing and creating work that takes a much more self-reflective approach. “Perhaps it’s having a few years of life experience under my belt that has allowed me to calcify and explore thoughts that have been bubbling under the surface.” That shift has been affected but not entirely derailed by the current state of the world facing a once-in-a-century virus.
The pandemic has undoubtedly affected creatives far and wide, creating an especially brunt force felt strongly in the indie and documentary filmmaking industry. When I press Namara to expand on his experience, he quips, “Obviously the greatest challenge is instability, both financial and personal.” He speaks especially about having a higher chain of command where he has no control over decisions, though he emphasizes that “you’ve got to learn to love the hard stuff too, to see it as part of the process.” That mindset has helped Namara take the last year in stride. He has, after all, continued filming and creating during the pandemic, despite maneuvering around ever-changing guidelines and COVID-19 protocols combined with budget cuts and hesitant producers due to the general uncertainty.
When I ask Namara about advice for upcoming filmmakers who hope to mirror his success he says, “You can spend countless days, months, or years going through the rigmarole of getting something made, obsessing over every foible to come out the end of it into a vacuum of silence, it’s important to acknowledge this but that shouldn’t stop you from being bold and going ahead to do it anyway.”
As my conversation with Namara nears its end, it is evident he will be spending another late night burning the midnight oil, writing, and storyboarding from his desk. I ask if he ever tires of the production process, and his response captures the spirit cultivated throughout his youth and threaded throughout his achievements. To consider yourself a creative in today’s world, he says, is ultimately a luxury. But he proclaims that as long as he is able to do so, he will “work tirelessly, with joy, conjuring up ideas while striving to pin them onto paper, making projects come to life.”
