Chances are, unless you have taken up residence beneath a rock, you’ve bumped into Raymond Carr at some point. When he isn’t directing, acting in, or otherwise working on films, performing in circuses, participating in verbal pugilism–in puppet form, naturally–or logging long hours editing at his studio, you might find him manning the turntables at Carroll Street Café (because hey, everybody needs a hobby). Who is this guy, anyway?
I caught up with Raymond at his eclectic East Atlanta home, which could have been decorated by Lonnie Holley–every inch was covered with art, figurines, movie props, and defunct cameras. I came to find out this was just a preview of the delightful wonderland inside Raymond’s head.
You lived in Iceland while you worked on a Nick Jr. show called Lazytown. Describe Iceland in one sentence.
They say that there are no Icelandic porn stars because everybody is related.
So, the opposite of Alabama. Can you tell our good readers about Ninja Puppet Productions and what you do for a living?
I’m a freelance artist. I got my start in the arts through puppetry, so I still consider myself a puppeteer, but I don’t like to refer to myself as a thing unless I’m doing it. There are too many people who refer to themselves as things that they haven’t done in years. Ninja Puppet Productions is my passion company that produces my own artsy-fartsy masturbatory work.
Speaking of porn…
(Laughter) Yes. It’s mostly my own outlet for creativity. I also freelance in the art department in the film and television industry, as well as [doing] limited directing when I get the chance. And I still do puppetry and performances at venues I care about. And sometimes I act. And write.
I’m also on the board of Mint Gallery, a nonprofit gallery in Old Fourth Ward that showcases emerging artists. What else do I do?
Studio Outpost, Write Club. The list goes on! Tell me about the underground puppetry scene in Atlanta.
Lucky Yates played a major role in starting the underground puppetry scene in Atlanta, with two midnight shows at Dad’s Garage called Puppet Slam and Late Night Creepy Horror Theater. It was drunken madness and local Atlanta puppeteers coming up with sketch comedy. We didn’t advertise it, but every show sold out. Every month we had to come up with a new sketch. It would force me to come up with a story, so I would have this consistent creative muscle.
Atlanta has a lot of pockets of creativity like that. Has the arts scene changed in the last few years?
Specifically for the film industry, the tax incentive has done a lot for that. A lot of films are coming here because Georgia provides special write-offs. So it’s a lot cheaper to shoot here than anywhere else, especially L.A. or New York.
Georgia already had a limited production infrastructure through the commercial industry, and then the indie film market was on the other side, pushing that level. With Hollywood coming here, we have people with diverse skill sets, and Atlanta is large enough to pass for L.A. or Chicago, with a rural element too.
I went on tour [with Walking With Dinosaurs: The Arena Spectacular] in 2008, when the tax incentives happened, and I came back and was like, “What the fuuuck.” It was crazy.
Tell me about the indie filmmakers who are also working on the big Hollywood films in Atlanta.
I guess the best example of that intersection is Studio Outpost, a creative collective I’m a part of. Before we were Studio Outpost, we made this film called The Signal, which came out in 2007. I say we, but I had very little to do with it at the time. It was made for around 60 thousand and sold for over a million bucks.
Those people have been working on projects together throughout the years. Then David Bruckner, one of the directors of The Signal, got this offer to do V/H/S, an anthology film, and I was the Art Director on our portion, “Amateur Night,” which is the opener. V/H/S went to Sundance this year and was sold to Magnolia. It comes out in theaters in October nationwide, and it goes on demand on DirectTV in August. So it should be relatively easy to find. With that and other projects that have done well, we’re able interest people in L.A. [in working] with us.
Tell me about your family’s nonprofit, Carr Ministries, and how you got into puppetry.
Actually, I got into puppetry through Carr Ministries. I always say my tagline is, “I was homeschooled by church clowns.” My parents were Christian clowns, and we would travel the country, performing up to 200 times a year. My parents would do magic tricks–“gospel illusions,” excuse me, because magic is Satanic–and we were fairly popular because we were one of the only families–and also black families–to do this.
Both of my parents grew up in rather negative household situations, so they had a hard-core conversion to Christianity. They took my brother out of public school because he came home singing “Shake Your Booty.” I wasn’t allowed to watch Scooby Doo, The Smurfs, He-Man, etc. just because it was Satanic or sexual.
Especially the Smurfs.
Yeah, Smurfette, Jesus. Now I’ve lost my train of thought. I’m all hot and bothered thinking about Smurfette.
That’s what happens when you don’t let your kids watch cartoons.
Exactly! You get turned on by Smurfs. I joke with my parents now about that stuff, but they are incredibly supportive of me and what I do.
Anyway, we partnered with this ministry called Operation STITCHES. We’d drive to the inner cities of L.A. with giant pink trailers pulled by a truck, and the side of the trailer would open up into a stage. We’d pull out speakers, tarps and blankets, play loud music and have all the kids from the projects come sit on the tarps. Then we’d do songs and games and Bible stories. And the mascot for STITCHES was a green dinosaur.
A dinosaur? So your life has come full circle.
(Laughter) Yeah . . . whoa, yeah.
How do you feel about the fact that most of the dinosaurs you used as puppets actually had feathers?
Actually, a lot of that was just being discovered while we were on tour. We were like, “Oh shit.”
I am incredibly grateful to have worked on that show. It was one of the largest touring shows in the world, definitely the largest puppet show I’ve ever done, literally. One of my puppets was about 40 feet tall, and most of them cost about a million bucks each. It was a new city every week, a wild time in my life.
You’ve been working on a pilot for a show called Stuff You Should Know. What should we know?
Stuff You Should Know is a popular podcast, and Discovery Science decided to make a TV pilot out of it. It follows the podcasters, Josh and Chuck, doing something like Ted Talks but a little more comedic.
This is Discovery Science’s first scripted comedy–not like Mythbusters, more like Flight of the Conchords. They play themselves, and their office looks like a museum–from taxidermy to suits of armor to skeletons hanging off the ceiling. And of course they hang out all the time and drive to work together–they may even live together. It’s a cool show. Hopefully it will air later this year.
I’m the Production Designer on the pilot. I also act in it and direct a small movie within it. I got the job partially based on “Old Man Cabbage,” and I hired my production designer from “Old Man Cabbage” as my set dresser, and recommended Karen Freed, my costume designer, and a lot of the other crew. I’m very happy it worked out that way.
You mentioned “Old Man Cabbage,” which is a long-form music video for Blair Crimmins and the Hookers. How did that come about?
Teaming up with Blair seemed like a logical thing. I wanted to do something very visual, a music video, and he was one of the bands in Atlanta I was really excited about. We have a million mutual friends, so I sent him a Facebook message, and we clicked really well. Ditto working with the Imperial Opa circus, who I had worked with previously. Now we screen it like a silent film with Blair playing the soundtrack live.
How does the fact that you’re in Atlanta impact your work?
I couldn’t do the things I do without the support of the creative community in Atlanta. And I’m very fortunate to have an awesome network of artists I work with. The great thing about tour is that it exposed me to the rest of the country; I was able to travel everywhere, and still this is the place I want to be.
Photo Credit: Victor Protasio