Guinea Pig Funerals and Dreamy Folk Ballads: The Artistic Mastery of Marontate
At just 22 years old, Annie MacLeod has fronted a punk band, co-directed, co-written, and acted in a short film, and established a solo music career, all while being a student at the Mel Hoppenheim School of Cinema at Concordia University. Annie’s most recent artistic endeavor is Wheek Flesh, a 25-minute fever dream of a film that follows an eccentric crew of Montréal students creating a horror movie about a blood-thirsty pet guinea pig. Things start to take a turn for the worse when one of the cast members is bitten by a guinea pig, and the tyrant-like director Corrie-Ted forces everyone to stay until her artistic vision is achieved. The film was co-directed by Annie and her Film Production classmate, Clare Dawson. Annie knew she wanted to make a slasher film and Clare had plans to make a mockumentary about a student film set, so when their professor told them to come up with film pitches within a week, the two decided to blend their ideas, resulting in a multi-genre masterpiece that will leave you equal parts disgusted, horrified, and amused.
The bulk of the cast was selected from auditions that the pair put a call out for on Instagram. With a high turnout for the auditions, Annie and Clare finalized the cast list based on who was the most willing to get weird, a necessary quality in a film that features a mailman abduction, menacing shots of guinea pigs, and vintage porn tapes.
While Wheek Flesh is a student film, meaning they were able to use some of Concordia’s film equipment, Annie and Clare had to find funding for everything else. They secured a $2,000 grant from the Fine Arts Student Association, and a $250 grant from the Concordia Alumni Association, for a total budget of $2,250. With this shoestring budget, Annie and Clare had to make use of all the resources available to them, including using their friend’s apartment as the set and filming everything on Annie’s hi-8 camera. Although their professor once referred to the hi-8 as a “rinky-dink Fisher Price camera,” a line that the pair chose to use in the film, the grainy quality it produces somehow elicits both pretentious art school and found footage vibes. The professor’s frequent criticisms and reservations about the film ultimately served as a key motivator for the pair, who wanted to prove to everyone that they could do it. The personal stakes were high, and with the pair’s hard work and creative genius, a shocking, entertaining, and disturbing short film was born.
Annie and Clare submitted the film to several film festivals, and plan on submitting to more in the near future. If you’d like updates about the film, you can follow Annie (@marontate) and Clare (@Claredawwson) on Instagram.
If you thought that Annie couldn’t put out a masterpiece of gore and guinea pigs while simultaneously making otherworldly folk songs that’ll transport you to a lush forest in British Columbia, you’d be mistaken. Annie’s solo music as Marontate, her Nana’s maiden name, is a considerable departure from the gritty, upbeat punk music that she used to make as the lead singer of Piss for Pumpkin, a household name in the Montréal live music scene. Although the group has since disbanded, having that experience was instrumental in providing Annie with the confidence she needed to perform as a solo artist. Without bandmates to rely on, Annie decided to jump out of her comfort zone and approach the intimidating world of solo performance. Realizing she could do it all herself proved to be a very rewarding experience. Now, she has a consistent fanbase that shows up and supports her no matter what kind of music she’s playing.
Even if Piss for Pumpkin is no longer, one of her favorite people to collaborate with is the band’s former drummer, Matt Sagar. The two are also part of the newly-formed Oooh Nooo, a Montréal dark folk band. In addition to making music together, Matt played a role in Wheek Flesh (Tilda, a character inspired by Annie’s deceased guinea pig of the same name).
Although Annie does not have a technical music background, she gained singing experience doing musical theater throughout high school, where she often played unhinged older women. A lack of traditional training is something that Annie encourages emerging artists not to be dissuaded by. Instead, she says those who want to get involved in the Montréal music scene should take any opportunity they can get to jam and talk to the people in the local bands they like. Once you become acquainted, you can see if they’re looking for people to open for them at their shows. It might seem intimidating at first, but breaking into the vibrant Montréal music scene will be worth it in the long run.
Annie hopes to put out an album sometime this winter with accompanying music videos, so be on the lookout for that. For updates on her music, you can follow Annie (@marontate) on Instagram. With a commanding presence that’ll lull you straight into her dreamy folk world from the first second she steps on stage, Annie’s performances are something you don’t want to miss.