Videos & Excerpts

Alternate Visions Opera produced by Chant Libres

Technology has expanded our interaction with the world, yet it has also alienated us from human interaction at home. From this exploration into simulated intimacy, grew the protagonists of ALTERNATE VISIONS, Alex and Valerie, two busy young professionals who meet online. Their interaction through technology intensifies until one of them suggests that they should meet face to face. Of course, this is much more difficult than it seems, because the two lovers have never embraced real intimacy.

The Riverbank (Official Trailer)

Based on the novel TRACING IRIS by Genni Gunn, THE RIVERBANK is an ingenious psychological thriller, placing at its dark centre a flawed but redeemable heroine, Kate Mason (Kari Matchett, Men with Brooms, 24) a thirty–something social anthropologist returning to the emotional crime scene she reluctantly calls home. While Kate mercilessly unearths the remnants of a life littered with evidence of abandonment, lies and loss, she also unravels the coil that binds her to Iris, the mother she never knew.

Montreal’s John L’Ecuyer has received several Directors Guild of Canada awards for Direction – Television Movie/Mini-Series and Outstanding Television Series.

The Riverbank was produced by Paul Stephens and filmed in Greater Sudbury.

The Riverbank is distributed in Canada by College Street Pictures.

Accidents Excerpt from “Photo”


April in Barcelona

she recalls

a cramped hotel room overlooking the square

and two lovers below cinched in a passionate kiss

it was morning and they were dressed for work

a windmill turned in the square

the couple parted

their hands wistful, waved

over their shoulders

till they could no longer

see each other

Permanent Tourists Excerpt from “Strays”

Trekked out in early afternoon, and here they still are, almost 6:30, the sun already receded into the horizon, the sky a darkening hue, and the two of them no further in their mission. A cacophony rises from nearby marshes: the stridor of crickets, the trills and jackhammers of bullfrogs, the high-pitched squeals of Great White Egrets as they circle and glide, then swoop behind the treed skyline. Roxanne stops a moment to watch them, wondering what’s drawing them all to that particular location.

Guy stops too, a little impatiently. “Now what?” he says.

She points.


“They’re just going to roost,” he says, dismissing her. “We should get back before dark.” He resumes walking.

She knows he considers this wandering up and down streets a colossal waste of time. They’ve crossed rice fields, rivulets and irrigation ditches. Yet the ramshackle restaurants, the caravan hotels, the Royal temple, the stuccoed prangs, the courtyards, and the markets have not yielded anything. Does she really believe they’re going to stumble into her father? Or is she expecting him to walk out of one of the houses, arms open? . . . 

Tracks: Journeys in time and place

 Excerpt from “Burmese Gothic”

“Put the camera down,” my sister Ileana says, her voice urgent. We’re in a taxi — a white Toyota Corolla, circa 1980 — on the way to Yangon airport. She reaches across and gently presses the camera to my lap. “I’m serious,” she says. “Last week, a man had his camera confiscated, and now he’s in jail.” In my mind’s eye, I see the monk uprising of 2007, and a Japanese journalist shot at point-blank range.

    On every corner, one or two soldiers stand poised, automatic assault rifles slung over their shoulders, as if this were normal. Sometimes, they cluster, four or five, in camouflage gear, chatting, their eyes scanning the crowd. At the stop sign, one stares directly at me as we slowly round the corner, and I quickly avert my gaze, as if my eyes were capable of snapping a photograph. . . 

Solitaria Excerpt

Middle of the wedding ceremony, guests hushed and weepy.

     “Repeat after me...,” the minister says, and a hummingbird slams full-tilt into the plate glass window facing the ocean. The bird’s small body quivers on the gravel path, its feathers iridescent, like neon fish.   David’s friend, Joe, and his almost-wife falter mid-word, their eyes fixed on the trembling creature.  No one moves.  Better to pretend.  David thinks of the word, ‘hummingbird’:  an Americanism. The birds don’t hum; the rapid beat of their narrow wings produces the sound, makes them appear to be in constant motion. This one is lying on its side at a most unnatural angle.  David’s chest expands.  Enlarged heart: A compensation for increased need.   He sighs. Concentrates.  This is Joe’s wedding; this is a happy occasion and that’s that. . .

© 2023 Genni Gunn