Story and portrait by Randy Loewen

A visit to the home of Uxbridge resident Andy Malcolm is like falling down a rabbit’s hole and arriving in a wonderland of gizmos, gadgets and oddities.

Not your typical collector of “stuff,” Malcolm is referred to in the movie industry as a Foley artist: one who reproduces everyday sounds in filmmaking. These sounds can be anything from breaking of glass, crashing of garbage cans, swishing of clothing, squeaking of a door or crunching of footsteps in freshly-fallen snow.

Malcolm’s company, Footsteps Post-Production Sound Inc., reproduces the subtle sounds one often takes for granted in a movie. With some high-tech recording equipment and a variety of materials, Malcolm and his employees watch scenes from movies and recreate almost every sound.

One would think that all sounds in a scene are recorded at the same time, but as Malcolm explains, the sound initially recorded is only that of the actors’ voices so they are crisp and clear in the film. As part of the post-production process, his role is to record the other sounds one hears in those scenes so they, too, are crisp and clear. All this is done from within two studios that contain various types of flooring (to record footsteps), a water tank (for those splashing sounds), a mud pit, a variety of doors, and a plethora of gadgets whose sounds are all painstakingly synchronized with the characters’ movements in each scene.

Malcolm’s start in the film industry began in the early ‘70s as an assistant sound editor in Toronto. An interest in the art of Foley and an attention to detail resulted in a number of jobs. Malcolm says Toronto was becoming a noisy place to record sound, so he moved to Uxbridge 11 years ago where it was quieter. However, the occasional aircraft buzzing overhead and the increased rumbling of nearby trucks began to interfere with the recording process. The construction of his second studio – a building within a building – eliminates outside sound altogether.

Malcolm’s skill in his art form has made him one of the most respected Foley artists in the film industry, and his company has won a number of Genie and Gemini awards over the years. His credits appear in more than 500 films, and he has worked with many well-known directors, such as David Cronenberg, Norman Jewison, Atom Egoyan, Tim Burton, Denys Arcand, Robert Redford and Robert Altman.

Apart from expertise in sound reproduction, Malcolm is also a renowned source of information on author Lewis Carroll and, in particular, Alice in Wonderland. With over 1,000 books collected over the years, his obsession began simply as an appreciation of the illustrations.

Having joined several Lewis Carroll societies in England, Japan and the United States, he was intrigued that other countries had different illustrated versions of the characters in Alice in Wonderland.

His acquired knowledge of the topic and his involvement as a member in the Lewis Carroll societies has made him an “aficionado of Alice,” and has led to him conducting many speaking engagements in other countries.

Article & Portrait by Randy Loewen

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around.  But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.” ~ Mark Twain, Atlantic Monthly, 1874.

Much like Mark Twain, we can all remember times when we were young and how our fathers seemed totally out of touch with reality. Then one day, we realize they were not as ignorant as we once believed them to be.
This experience hits home with the winner of our Father’s Day contest: Scott Campsall. Scott’s eloquent submission about his own father, Dale, recalled a time when he saw things from a child’s perspective. Now a father of a 7 year-old son, he sees his dad in a different light.

“Now I know what it takes to be a ‘real dad’ and as much as I’d like to think that it’s all about hugs and being a kid’s best buddy, I have discovered it takes much more.”

What may have been considered a “typical family”, the lives of the Campsalls were turned upside down in 1972 when Campsall’s mother, Aline, was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Aline was confined to a wheelchair and eventually became paralyzed from the neck down. She would never leave the hospital to live at home again.

Dale remembers how difficult it was raising a young son, holding down a job, and doing his best to care for his ailing wife.
“There was much stress,” he says. “You just deal with it as a family. It’s like lifting weights; you get stronger as you deal with it.”

Thanks to the flexibility of his job, Dale took Scott to the hospital every night to visit his mother where Scott often did his homework. Dale built a home near the Uxbridge Cottage Hospital and relocated his family here so trips to the hospital would be more convenient; he still lives there today.

Ultimately, 14 years having to deal with the disease resulted in the couple’s separation.

“Scott was never a difficult child, but he resented the separation and wanted to move out,” Dale says. A compromise was reached with his 14 year-old son.

“[My Mother] lived with us downstairs, and Scott decided to go live with his grandmother,” Dale chuckles. All this time, “my dad ensured my mother could attend church regularly, ensured that large hospital bills were paid, and that I was well looked after,” says Scott.

MS claimed the life of Aline in 1997. Dale still speaks emotionally about how his wife could only communicate with the use of her tongue. “It’s such a terrible disease,” he adds.

Dale has since remarried, and he and his wife, Judy, share their home with a daughter, Christina.

Last fall, father and son experienced “a wonderful trip to Japan” for some quality time together. More family trips are planned for the future to strengthen the family ties.

Many people today consider celebrities and athletes their heroes; sometimes we need only to look at those unsung heroes who guide us, teach us to ride a bike, and tolerate gifts of soap-on-a-rope: our fathers.