What is most surprising about Trudeau is that, given it covers a subject of great reverence to many Canadians, cinematographer Norayr Kasper and director Jerry Ciccoritti were able to shoot it in such idiosyncratic fashion. The $7.65-million Big Motion Pictures two-part miniseries that aired on CBC is ripe with stylistic flourishes. Kasper dismisses any criticism of whatever artistic licence he and his director took to tell the story.

‘We said, ‘If we absolutely recreate the events, we are making in effect a documentary; what we should be doing is making a visual trip, to show people the sense – the feeling – of this visionary person,’ ‘ Kasper explains. ‘It’s our educated impression, because we did a ton of research, especially Jerry.’

The Montreal-based director of photography is of Armenian descent but grew up in Italy, and cites this shared Italian heritage with Ciccoritti as a reason for their successful collaboration. Kasper came to the film biz by way of his love of still photography and his study of architecture, art history and video. Having lensed some commercial work in Italy, Kasper arrived in Montreal in 1987 and attended film school at Concordia University.

Subsequently a camera operator and 2nd unit DOP on various MOWs, series and action flicks, Kasper’s big break came when director Atom Egoyan, himself of Armenian roots, approached the cameraman to shoot the low-budget experimental feature Calendar (1993). He collaborated with Egoyan again on Bach Cello Suite #4: Sarabande (1997), and his other feature DOP credits include Two Thousand and None (2000), directed by Arto Paragamian, and The Life Before This (1999), directed by Ciccoritti.

Although Kasper was thrilled when Ciccoritti approached him about Trudeau, the cameraman felt he did not know enough about Pierre Elliott Trudeau, who was prime minister from 1968-79 and 1980-84. Kasper credits the director’s painstaking homework as crucial prep work in helping them determine shooting styles, lighting and colors. According to Kasper, they both envisioned Trudeau ‘like Lawrence of Arabia – a visionary who creates the events that would be dealt with. It was going to be kinetic; he was going to move through these events. It wasn’t going to be just one style. The style had to follow him.’

Ciccoritti divided the movie into four parts, each with a style inspired by a different filmmaker from the period in question. The first section, which presents PET’s rise to power and the Trudeaumania that ensued, alludes to the frenetic comedy style favored by Richard Lester in the mid-1960s. Using a high-speed effect achieved in-camera, Trudeau (Colm Feore) escapes adoring fans the way The Beatles did in A Hard Day’s Night. Although that film was shot in black-and-white and Trudeau in color, the colors in that sequence were desaturated in post. Ross Cole of Toronto’s Manta DSP was the colorist for dailies and Doug Woods, credited for visual effects and online/colorist, did finishing at Halifax post house Salter Street Digital.

Perhaps the most elaborate visual effect in Trudeau is the use of multiple screens to show the simultaneous actions of various characters, such as when Trudeau is running for party leadership. Kasper offers a tip of the hat here to late ’60s films such as Norman Jewison’s The Thomas Crowne Affair. This approach created a lot of work for Woods, who would have to color correct several frames for one finished shot, but the fact that nearly all the movie’s effects could be accomplished in Salter’s Avid Symphony made the process quite efficient.

The second section, which focuses on the PM’s handling of 1970’s October Crisis, adopts a tense style using zoom lenses to emphasize the chaos in cabinet meetings following the abductions of Pierre Laporte and James Cross. The main influence here is director Costa-Gavras, whose political thriller Z won the best foreign-language film Oscar that very year. Woods also accentuated the color red in these scenes as much as broadcast standards allow, reinforcing the passion of the times – and perhaps because it is the official hue of Trudeau’s Liberal Party. Production designer Jennifer Stewart also played a big part in carefully controlling the colors of sets and props.

The third hour of Trudeau deals with the dissolution of PET’s marriage to Margaret Sinclair (Polly Shannon), and the lighting takes on a more stylized approach, recalling the symbolic use of color explored by Bernardo Bertolucci and Vittorio Storaro in Last Tango in Paris (1972). One standout moment of expressionism occurs in a dinner party scene in which Margaret feels increasingly isolated from her husband. The camera focuses on her reflection in a mirror, with all the light surrounding her turning a deep blue.

‘I thought it would be a great idea to change the whole world around her, to show how unwelcome and lonely she was in the middle of this men’s world,’ Kasper says. ‘I thought the color blue best represented an element that was so calm but also tempestuous – it could change dramatically.’

The last section, which follows the PM’s efforts to repatriate the Constitution, recalls the work of director Alan J. Pakula and DOP Gordon Willis in the mid-1970s political paranoia thriller The Parallax View with strong yellow and golden hues.

‘The idea was to highlight the fact that now that he was re-elected, his last ambition was to bring back the Constitution,’ Kasper says. ‘For me it was the idea of the man ‘harvesting’ what he had done. It was all about light and shadow.’

Expanding on the familiar

Trudeau borrows images of its subject very familiar to the Canadian public, and then uses the cinematic medium to provide insight into what the man was feeling. For example, after his marriage breaks down, Trudeau is shown out canoeing – taken right from a popular photo. But a frenzied montage (edited by Dean Soltys) bringing back earlier images from Pierre and Maggie’s relationship interrupts the scene. Woods colors the reappearing shots in a sickly green tone, as though they are now sour memories. The various styles juxtaposed in the montage suggest a mixture of formats and different levels of grain, but this was all manipulated in post at Salter.

The movie was shot somewhat hurriedly over 42 days from September to November 2001, primarily in Halifax, with a few interior and exterior days in Ottawa. The crew was shooting in federal parliament buildings on Sept. 11 and had to soldier on despite the upset feelings of the cast and crew and the restrictions placed upon them due to security concerns.

Working quickly, Kasper and Ciccoritti relied on an efficient shorthand.

‘I’m almost entirely responsible for the lighting,’ Kasper says. ‘[Jerry] was definitely involved with most of the composition. He likes to compose, to see and to follow style. He has a very strong formal sense.’

Despite Trudeau’s glossiness, it was actually originated on Super 16, which speaks to what can be done in post when finishing for video. Kasper specifically shot with Kodak Vision 200T 7274 stock at an aperture of T2.8, calling on 500T 7279 stock on a couple of occasions. This required his having to light strongly to get as much information on his negative as possible. The Arriflex 16 SR3 camera equipped with Cooke S4 lenses moves almost constantly throughout the film, adding tension to scenes that are inherently static, such as campaign speeches and cabinet meetings.

The drama was broadcast in the letterbox format, with the exception of the archival news footage intercut throughout, which maintained its original 4:3 ratio.