CAN | The name "4CO Films” has its origins in your childhood. How does this inspiration relate to your company's mandate?

CB ── My older brother says that as a child, I had a very active imagination. He tells the story that

whenever he would pretend to come at me, I would throw up my hands like a sorcerer and yell, “Forcefield! Pew! Pew!” I was so young, and I pronounced it, “fore-see-oh.” The older I get, the more I’m reminded that no matter how old we are, our inner child is still very much alive just below the surface, waiting for those negative voices to quiet down so it can come out and play. The idea of reparenting as an adult and healing those parts of the self that may have felt unsafe as a child has been coming up for me time and time again, and I think this draw towards self-directed empathy and healing is something that I am leaning into. 

Launching 4CO Films was a way to honour this child, trust my inner voice, and reconnect with my joy. I am fired up by the idea of extending this care to others through my vision and creation. It’s a privilege I am

grateful for. And I think it is reflected in my work.

CAN | You speak of aspiring to “socially responsible storytelling” in your work. How would you define that, and how does this definition instruct the choice of projects you develop?

CB ── I’ve been an actor for over 20 years, which has been a self-centred journey at times. Lately, I’ve been reflecting heavily not only on my own unique voice as a storyteller, but also on how I got here, and the people who have influenced me along the way—people like my friend Heather Williams, the subject of my next film, Little Feet. I’ve also been paying closer attention to the impact of the words and images we share, how I am personally affected by what I allow myself to consume, and how the projects I am a part of may, in turn, affect others. Of course, there is a place for projects that exist solely to entertain, to make us laugh or cringe, or to pass the time. But as a documentary filmmaker — aside from being gifted the task of telling someone else’s story or capturing a particular moment in time — I find great purpose knowing that if I can dig deeper and find the poetry, I may also be able to affect change in my own small way. To amplify a voice that may have otherwise remained unheard, to allow someone to feel seen, or to shed light on an issue so as to move us collectively into a space of more compassion and curiosity, I guess that is what I mean by “socially responsible.”

CAN | After working as an actor all those years, you recently initiated a second path for yourself as a filmmaker. What were some of the motivations for undertaking this new venture?

CB ── I studied documentary production years ago, and I set it gently aside, knowing I would someday return to it when I wasn’t working steadily in the theatre world. I have many little creative nuggets that I have been cradling for years, but Mudder’s Hands was born entirely out of a pandemic pivot. As a Newfoundlander, I was also proud member of the Toronto company of Come From Away, telling the story of community and

generosity in the wake of tragedy and isolation. When the lights of our entire industry went out overnight in March of 2020, I thought, if I don’t demystify the producorial process now, I never will. I enrolled in Centennial College’s Film and TV Business Program, and as luck would have it, I found myself being instructed by incredible independent producers, many of whom were working primarily in the documentary field. It reignited a spark in me. 

We were in pitching sessions when I had a lightbulb moment: “Write what you know.” I missed my mother dearly, who, despite crippling arthritis, continued to send me care packages of traditional homemade

raisin bread. I started with the idea of a cultural time capsule and began interviewing her remotely: the steps of making bread, how she learned, how it made her feel, and how her arthritis got in the way. Suddenly, I had a triptych of themes─memories of youth, pains of age, and the spirit of generosity that tied it all together. After witnessing the struggle of many seniors during the pandemic, I thought it a nice way to remind people of the value in their stories and lived experiences, and to honour my mother in the process. At the end of the day, whether acting or directing, it’s all storytelling.