"Get hold of a camera and... make a movie of any kind at all."
A chat with Joey Litvak, the director and star of Ghost Camera.
In Joey Litvak’s Ghost Camera, the musician-filmmaker-actor appears as himself, amateur documentarian and front man of a Born Ruffians cover band called Corn Puffians. In attempting to craft the perfect “post-cover” (described in the film as a song that transcends being just a cover), Joey alienates his friends and burns bridges, especially when the COVID-19 pandemic puts a hold on his plans for musical domination.
Filmed on virtually no budget, Ghost Camera was made with out-of-date camcorders by a group of Toronto-based friends, and the production, much like the Corn Puffians’ path to post-cover glory, really was brought to a halt in March 2020. Nevertheless, Joey Litvak, a multi-hyphenate creative force of nature, edited footage shot throughout disparate periods of time into a surprisingly poignant ode to Toronto (and to creativity in general), shifting back and forth between the main narrative, home movies, and archival footage of the city and his family.
We chatted with Joey Litvak a few days before the sold out world premiere of Ghost Camera at Imagine Cinemas Carlton.
BE: So this film is about a Born Ruffians cover band called the Corn Puffians… What came first, the band or the movie idea?
JL: Over the years my writing partner Zack and I got to know Born Ruffians on a personal level. In late 2019, the band reached out to us about making some kind of social media announcement or promotional video for their then-upcoming album “Juice” — I had just become friends with Noa and Maia, and the three of us were already a band, “The Camp Counsellors,” but when Born Ruffians asked us to come up with something special, the idea to form Corn Puffians came to us pretty quickly. While it started as a playful experiment, it quickly grew into something much more meaningful and real. We realized that it wasn’t just about emulating someone else’s music or art—it was about redefining it in our own offbeat, exaggerated way.
When we wrapped up the video, it really felt like we were on the edge of something more. I couldn't help but think, "What's next?" We had the right team of people, a strong idea, and a growing audience. It felt like everything was in place to channel our momentum into something much bigger, and there was so much room to expand on the characters and dynamics we explored in the original Corn Puffians video. That’s when the idea of a full-length feature following Corn Puffians started to take shape. But to answer your question, it was never completely about making a movie; it was about following the path of Corn Puffians to see where it might lead us next.
BE: Can you speak about you relationship with Born Ruffians, how did you get to know them
J: My Co-writer Zack and I have been big fans of the Ruffians since high school. As university students we started attending as many of their shows as possible, traveling to see them perform not just in Toronto, but also in Hamilton, Burlington, London, and Guelph. Our dedication really paid off in 2016 at a small show in Buffalo at The Mohawk Tavern. We bumped into the band wandering around the city, walking their dog before the show, and later at the venue, they were just hanging out. They recognized us, and we mentioned we came in from Toronto to see them. I took a chance-requesting my favorite song: "This Sentence Will Ruin/Save Your Life," which they hadn't played in years, but performed that night just for us, dedicating it to their "friends from Toronto." From then on, we always made it a point to catch up after their shows.
BE: And how do you know your bandmates/costars Noa and Maia?
JL: We all met at this summer arts camp called Centauri. I had been going there for film production since I was 10-years-old, and Maia joined the program a couple years later! There’s some great footage of 11-year-old Maia shooting 12-year-old Joey with a space gun in our remake of Plan 9 from Outer Space. Noa and I became friends much later, when all three of us were counsellors at the camp in 2019. I think the three of us had a lot of ambition and dormant creativity. When we realized we would all be at U of T together in the fall, we decided to start a band, and our friendships developed from there. In a funny turn of events, Noa and I discovered that we are kind of related… we’re basically cousins.
BE: Obviously, the pandemic impacted the making of the movie, so how did you regroup and figure out what to do with it after that point?
JL: You’re right, the pandemic definitely had a major impact on the project. We started shooting in January 2020, and we had all these plans for big scenes with multiple-camera setups for mid-March and April. We were supposed to play a huge show at The Cameron House with other Toronto bands like Glass Cactus, and it was going to be hosted by Danny Magder who played Edwin on Life with Derek. I was actually shooting a few scenes for the film in Montreal when the lock down was announced. All of a sudden my Megabus was canceled and I had to take the next train back to Toronto.
I’ll never forget that walk home from Union Station. The city was so quiet, both audibly and visually, and so many businesses and buildings that were wide open when I left just a few days before were now closed for “two weeks.” With everything going on, this project was all I had… and I knew I had to find a way to finish the story. So we made some changes, like revamping our planned live show into a livestream music festival. And since everyone was locked down at home, we had a rare opportunity to collaborate with artists like Feurd and Frankie of the Elwins and Jay McCarrol of Nirvanna the Band the Show, who were also adapting to this weird new reality of live music and performance. The pandemic was definitely an obstacle, but it also reinforced our commitment to the project and the feeling that nothing was going to stop us from achieving our goal.
BE: Can you discuss your musical career (and your various musical identities) a bit more?
JL: I started teaching myself to play guitar during my 2nd year of undergrad. I wasn't particularly interested in being able to play well, my main goal was to learn enough so that I could make my own music. Over the years, my passion for making music evolved into various musical identities, each reflecting a different genre or style:
Joseph Alexander: Under my first and middle name, I explored the folk-punk with songs like Undone Dreams, To Be A Building, and Come and Go. This solo project was a lot more personal than my other music ventures, blending introspective lyrics with a grittier acoustic style.
The Camp Counsellors: With my Maia and Noa, we formed this college rock group, heavily influenced by Camper Van Beethoven, Fleetwood Mac, and Cake. Our music was a much more vibrant mix of our diverse influences, and performing together helped us channel our collective energies into something that felt really new and exciting.
Jo Fre$h: Though my time as Jo Fre$h was brief, it was a significant exploration for me into the world of rap. Becoming Jo Fre$h (for the first time in 2015) allowed me to experiment with so many different rhythms and lyrical styles, pushing my creative boundaries and adding a new dimension to my musical repertoire-inspired heavily by The Beastie Boys, Run the Jewels, and Lil Dicky.
BE: Can you tell me more about the Corn Puffian record label, a real record label that makes an appearance in the film, and any acts you have signed to it?
JL: Noa and I started this record label with Joe Alexander and Rachel Schwarz with a goal to showcase Toronto-based bands & artists with a specific focus on avant-garde acts and post-modern projects. While we knew Corn Puffians would be the perfect fit for the label, it was more of a challenge to find others like us.
For example, we had to expand out of our comfort zone to include the Montreal-based band "A Good Band" - but their sardonic sensibilities and top tier hooks make up for their lack of Toronto presence. We've also got Nonna Sings, a wonderful take on the “post cover” concept featuring an Italian Grandmother singing versions of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” (“I Wanna Cook For My Grandson”) and “Wild Things”.
We've also got experimental folk pop genius Amelia Ear Hart's Sonic Aviary who takes after legendary acts like Neutral Milk Hotel. There's also McKinnon, an incredible folk artist pulling from the sounds of 1960s Yorkville, and one of the best Parquet Courts Covers (of “Instant Disassembly”) you can find. We're really proud of our artists and our label, and hope that our film brings some much deserved attention to Corn Puff Records!
BE: Throughout the movie, you pull in different threads, like the video stuff from your childhood, as well as the archival footage of Toronto… where did that come from?
JL: I was born around the same time my parents bought their first MiniDV Handycam… I don’t think I have a single early memory that isn’t connected to that camera in some way. It was almost like having a friend or an extra sibling to interact with… and no matter what my parents recorded, and they recorded pretty much everything, I would always ask them to play it back for me right away. I’m also 5th generation Torontonian, and I don’t really have family anywhere else in the world. As a high school history teacher, I’m naturally a very historical thinker, so connecting my family’s home movies to the greater history of Toronto felt very instinctive. I grew up hearing stories from my mom about what it was like to attend the grand opening of the C.N. Tower in 1976, and stories from my dad about working at The Ex in the 1980s, and just hearing about what it was like for my grandparents to grow up in the same city as me at such a different time…
Then, everything changed when I found my grandfather’s 8mm home movie collection. These films contained so many beautiful moments — from their wedding film, which is the opening shot of Ghost Camera, to the more objective footage of Toronto life that my grandfather so masterfully captured — I feel extremely fortunate to have so much personal Toronto-based material to sift through. But of course, there were many parts of Toronto’s past that my family hadn’t captured on film. For those, we turned to archival footage, which was mainly from the CBC archive. It was important to me that we fill in those gaps because a lot of the historical events we reference directly connect to the story we are telling in some pretty interesting ways.
BE: There’s a distinctly lo-fi aesthetic to this movie… digital and analogue camcorders and archival footage… was that purely a DIY cost-conscious decision, or is there an artistic reason for it?
JL: I’ve always been partly inspired and partly amused by this Stanley Kubrick quote where he says, “Perhaps it sounds ridiculous, but the best thing that young filmmakers should do is to get hold of a camera and some film and make a movie of any kind at all.” While Kubrick's advice really resonated with me, the irony isn't lost on me either, considering his meticulous attention to detail and well-documented tyrannical approach to filmmaking. But there it is—that’s exactly what he said! And again, this absurdity… this paradox of Kubrick’s philosophy versus his practice… it really struck a chord with me and really shaped the way I approached the film, and really the entire project. This duality—between authenticity and perfection—was something I wanted to deeply explore in the film.
For example, I used the same camcorder I’ve been making movies with since I was 12-years-old—not just for the nostalgia of it, but because there’s something really special about the continuity in that, both in terms of personal comfort and aesthetics, and an inimitable authenticity to capturing footage on a device that’s so out of sync with today's visual standards. At the same time, I also wanted the movie to feel like a childhood memory… well, specifically growing up in the 2000s. The grainy texture, the flicker of an old tube TV, and the inclusion of distorted videotape aesthetics evoke a specific sense of time and place while simultaneously blurring the line between the past and the present in a more tangible way. At the same time, I wanted something more to reflect that Kubrickian tension between authenticity and perfection—and that’s where the contrasting use of film and film aesthetics came into play.
BE: We got an endorsement for this screening from Scott Mosier, who produced a number of Kevin Smith movies back in the day, including the legendary micro-budget film Clerks. How did you get him to watch it?
JL: I actually got connected with Scott through an LA-based film industry mentorship program! We met in December, and he's been incredibly supportive of my aspirations as a filmmaker since then. He just has this uniquely relevant perspective on finding success under difficult or uncertain circumstances, so having someone like Scott as a mentor, who not only shares my Canadian identity, but also brings a wealth of industry and indie experience has been absolutely invaluable. When the opportunity arose for him to watch my film, he was genuinely interested, and recognized the labour of love that this project has been for me and everyone else involved over the last four years. Beyond just watching my film, he's also been helping me focus on my next film project, refine my vision and goals as a filmmaker, and plan my next steps in the industry.