David Farrier: My story as told to Elisabeth Easther

David Farrier. Photo / Supplied

David Farrier is a journalist turned documentary filmmaker. Currently based in Los Angeles, Farrier writes a regular newsletter for Webworm and collaborates with podcast phenomenon Armchair Expert to make Flightless Bird. Following on from Farrier’s award-winning documentary Tickled, his latest doco is Mister Organ about a narcissistic wheel clamper, in cinemas from November 10.

Being born into a Christian family on Christmas Day had its challenges, because Jesus does take over and you can’t really outshine him. It was also frustrating because my family would give me one present for birthday and Christmas combined, and say it was bigger. But that was a giant scam, as it was just one gift and it wasn’t bigger. We did try to celebrate a few birthdays halfway through the year, to make me feel more special, but it felt like cheating. But aside from that, I had a wonderful upbringing.

A lot of people think I was born in Bethlehem on Christmas Day, but the truth is much less inspiring, as I was actually born in Auckland and spent my early years in Whangārei. We didn’t move to Bethlehem - in Tauranga, not Israel - until I was 11. We moved partly because of Dad’s work as a vet, and also so my brother and I could attend Bethlehem College, a private Christian school.

I’d been home-schooled till then, so Bethlehem College was a huge change. My older brother was the cool guy who sat at the back of the bus, and I was the nerd with braces and glasses, walking around with my saxophone. I also had to learn how to interact with other kids, and cope with big classes, but I was really grateful to Mum for giving us such a good education to start with. Mum also instilled in me a love of reading, although I find it harder to read these days, because it’s so easy to get side-tracked by the little glowing screen.

I became really good at repressing myself at school, because that’s what was encouraged. Bethlehem College offered very binary pathways which didn’t represent what I felt about myself, so it was as if I hit pause, but I also had a good time at school. I learned lots and I was head boy. I made some of my best friends there too, so it wasn’t like a giant trauma. That came later, when I was in my 20s and starting out in journalism when I had my more dramatic moments, figuring out who I was in terms of my sexuality.

We were taught evolution, but being a conservative Christian school, it was always described as a theory. This funny idea we had to learn to pass our exams, as opposed to something scientific. Which meant I left high school not believing in evolution. I also thought there was a heaven and a hell and if you didn’t believe in Jesus, you were destined to an afterlife of burning torment. I literally believed all that.

Today I’m agnostic, because I don’t know what the answer is, but it took me a while to work through it. Most people I’ve kept in touch with from my younger years are also agnostic now, and there are a couple of hardcore atheists. I’ve drifted away from the ones who kept more rigid beliefs.

After I made Tickled, a film that dealt with fetishes and sex, I was taken off the invite list for school events. I also wrote about Bethlehem College’s terrible take on sexuality and gender this year, and they stopped talking to me altogether, which is the opposite of what I’d hoped for from the school I gave such a lot to.

David Farrier now lives in Los Angeles, where he makes a podcast called Flightless Bird. Photo / Rob Holysz

I wanted to be a doctor when I left school. I liked people and was good at science so I studied health science at Auckland University but I quickly discovered I didn’t like blood and I wasn’t as smart as thought I was. That was very difficult, to find out the thing I thought I was going do, was not what I wanted to do. I have a distinct memory of being in a park, hating life, when John Campbell and Carol Hirschfeld walked past and I decided I wanted to write and explore stories. Later that week I enquired about AUT’s journalism degree.

When I was working at TV3, I was told off by one of the senior camera operators for putting myself in a story. I wanted a shot of me nodding at an answer, so for quite a while I completely removed myself from stories. But as I met more interesting and quirky people whose stories I wanted to tell, I felt like I was part of the conversation, so on Nightline I started purposefully putting myself in the narrative.

Making Mister Organ was a very disorientating experience. It took ages to make, which meant he was on my mind for a long time and my brain started being affected. Dealing with this particular person, who has this personality type was so destabilising. I knew Michael [Organ] was interesting. Not only did he think he was a prince, he was also involved in this carpark clamping chaos, sometimes charging up to $750 to remove a clamp, and the more of his victims I met, the better I understood him.

Sometimes Michael would want to be in the film, and sometimes he hated me. We’d never know what each day would bring, which made it very difficult to make the film. He’s also one of those people who pick their own version of reality and run with it, even if it’s not truthful. When he has conviction, he bends reality to fit, something we’re more familiar with now, having seen Trump do it.

If I had my I time again I probably wouldn’t make this film. I’m proud of it but I wouldn’t do it again, because it gave me this horrible feeling of being stuck with a very unpleasant person, which is a metaphor for what the film is about. But one of the reasons I kept going, these people trusted me with their stories and I’d said I’d tell them‚ so I couldn’t not make the film. It’s like that saying, “the only way out is through”.

Seeing the audience response has been very satisfying. One woman was crying outside the screening in Austin. She said she’d been with that sort of person for three years and had thought she’d been in a unique situation, but seeing that sort of behaviour on screen, it made her feel less alone.

David Farrier's new documentary is Mister Organ.

I came over to Los Angeles in part to get away from Michael, to get him out of my head. I’d also come over for another job, but that all went to hell and I wasn’t able to get back to New Zealand because of the pandemic. So I was very lucky when Dax Shephard and Monica Padman from Armchair Expert took me under their wings and said, “pitch the show you want to make with us. We’ll put it out and sponsor your visa, just don’t be stressed.” So I pitched the podcast Flightless Bird, with the premise of me being stuck in America, and it’s been a blast. People listen to it and we’ve even toured it around the United States as a live show.

I love Los Angeles. It’s full of deranged people, as well as the kindest loveliest people. When we debuted Mister Organ here, Stephen Fry turned up, then sent me a two-page email telling me what he thought. It’s lovely to meet some of my heroes over here, and to be away from Mr Organ. That’s been really positive for my soul.

I love how nature and the city brush up against each other in Los Angeles in a very compelling way. I grew up surrounded by animals, so to see a pack of coyotes prowling down the street howling at 1am, that is so exciting. I’ve also seen a rattlesnake and there’s a mountain lion called P22 who lives around here.

Los Angeles is also a big old mess, but whatever scene you’re into, a certain food or kink, or a type of band, art or theatre, you can find what you’re into here. It’s a big liberal melting pot with a million issues but it’s really exciting too.

I don’t have a to-do list. I really like that Karl Pilkington quote, “you don’t get anything done by planning”. In the short term, I’ll write the Webworm newsletter and make the podcast. I’m still feeling pretty f***ed up after Mister Organ so I don’t feel an urge to make another doco right away, but I’ll let ideas flow through my brain, as all the best stuff happens when you don’t plan, so long as you know when to grasp on to a thing when it comes along and run with it.

Because so much of life is a big mess. No one knows why we’re here, although some people pretend they do. No one knows what happens when we die or what’s going to happen tomorrow. So the important thing is, don’t be an idiot, then get on with the spontaneous and unpredictable nature of living.

www.misterorgan.com