Life after the lottery
By Janice Kennedy CanWest News Service—Ottawa
Dream on, lottery lovers. According to that popular piece of time-honoured wisdom, you have far, far better odds of getting hit by lightning (one in 240,000) than of winning the 6/49 Big One (one in roughly 14 million). But you know that, don’t you?
You also know how unlikely that lightning strike is. Even if you forgot everything you ever learned and sheltered under a tree while thunderbolts streaked the sky, you probably wouldn’t be electrocuted.
And chances, therefore, are even more excellent a big, fat lottery prize will figure even less.
But that certain knowledge is not going to stop you, is it? You’ll keep plunking down your loonies and toonies, picking up your tickets for the next 6/49 or Super Seven draw, and crossing those well-worn crossing fingers. Oh sure, you’ll admit to anyone who asks, you know you won’t win. But what the heck? You’re just buying a little fond fantasy.
So dream on.
After all, somebody has to win. The knowledge the dream becomes reality for some lottery players (albeit an infinitesimal number) is what makes the reverie so addictive. We are inspired and encouraged by the stories of those winners. We love what we imagine to be their happily-ever-after conclusions. They seduce us.
Which may explain why Catherine Annau can now officially call herself a wet blanket. The 39-year-old Toronto filmmaker has just completed a documentary that examines the post-prize lives of six lottery winners, and they’re anything but lollipops and roses.
The resulting film is a National Film Board co-production called, not surprisingly, Winning.
The award-winning creator of Just Watch Me: Trudeau and the 70s Generation, Annau has this time turned her lens on the postscripts to lottery winners’ happy endings.
“My dad,” says Annau, “always used to say, ‘Money doesn’t buy you happiness. It just allows you to be miserable in comfort.’ ”
She laughs. “But I just thought that was because he was Hungarian.”
Since making the film, she says, she has come to appreciate her father’s wisdom.
She discovered, thanks to the openness and frankness of her film subjects, windfalls could create real strife and conflict where none existed before.
Tina, a Newfoundlander who won $10 million after choosing ticket numbers based on Biblical references, says the sudden wealth simply gives you a whole new set of problems to replace your old ones.
Nor does it restore health or profoundly transform your personality. True, one of the film’s subjects, a New York State lottery winner, did overcome his poor self-image as he evolved into an American national celebrity. But most of the time, says Annau, winners remain fixed in their own patterns, albeit with nicer houses, nicer cars and nicer vacations.
Winning started out as an idea Annau had about money in a money-mad society, and class.
“We don’t talk a lot about class, especially in Canada. But I wanted to see how people would be affected by changing worlds once they’d won a lot of money.”
The discovery was one of the things that surprised her.
“Some of the winners felt alienated by their newfound status. They no longer felt socially linked to the place they came from and they were not socially linked to the place they found themselves in now.”
Another surprise discovery was the roller-coaster. According to Annau, winners experience extreme emotional ups and downs as they live through the aftermath of their big win.
“I didn’t expect to hear about the kind of guilt that comes with winning,” she says. “And the fear. Almost to a man, they said, ‘Six months after winning, I was terrified the money would go away.’ ”
Annau rounded out the subjects for her film in a variety of ways. She knew she wanted to portray the full winning process — that is, show a new winner, one who had won a while ago and one whose win was quite a few years ago — so she approached the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Commission. As luck would have it (although it took a year to happen), she was on hand when one couple came in to claim their big prize. They agreed to talk about their win and to be followed.
The two American winners who appear in the film she contacted via a Nashville journalist who had written about one of them — Curtis, “the five-million-dollar man.” Curtis, in turn, linked Annau with a buddy of his, another big winner of the New York State lottery. Annau wanted to include a couple of winners from south of the border to show the cultural contrast.
The Americans, she says, had become well-known figures. They were media heroes, and one of them, Curtis, even used to appear in lottery ads. That is not the case in Canada.
“Here, you wouldn’t know a lottery winner if you fell over one.”
That was one of the reasons why it wasn’t always easy to track them down.
“Even though the names of winners are public record, it still required some detective work. Many people, once they’ve won, simply disappear. It was a real challenge to find them.”
And not everyone wanted to be interviewed. Even some of those who had initially agreed later changed their minds.
“Many of them were worried about their children or about their privacy.”
But the ones who stayed with the project were very forthcoming, she says, and it is reflected in the film.
Annau, who never used to bother with lottery tickets, started buying them when she began work on her film. You buy a ticket, she says, and you start dreaming.
“Then you can really relate to the people you’re filming.”
Now that the film is finished and she’s moved on to new projects — including a film about personal debt in a hyper consumer society — she finds she hasn’t quite kicked the habit. Like people in two-thirds of the households across Canada, the director of Winning still likes buying into the fantasy now and again.
“I think it’s a fun thing,” she observes, careful to distinguish between lotteries and more addictive forms of gaming, such as slot machines and video gambling. “We all dream of being winners, whether it’s game shows or lotteries or investments. We all dream that if we’re smart enough, or lucky enough, we’ll strike it rich.”
The lottery ticket facilitates that little adventure in wishful thinking.
“It offers people hope. It offers them an outlet. It offers them,” she says, “a chance to dream.”
Ottawa Citizen
By Janice Kennedy CanWest News Service—Ottawa
Dream on, lottery lovers. According to that popular piece of time-honoured wisdom, you have far, far better odds of getting hit by lightning (one in 240,000) than of winning the 6/49 Big One (one in roughly 14 million). But you know that, don’t you?
You also know how unlikely that lightning strike is. Even if you forgot everything you ever learned and sheltered under a tree while thunderbolts streaked the sky, you probably wouldn’t be electrocuted.
And chances, therefore, are even more excellent a big, fat lottery prize will figure even less.
But that certain knowledge is not going to stop you, is it? You’ll keep plunking down your loonies and toonies, picking up your tickets for the next 6/49 or Super Seven draw, and crossing those well-worn crossing fingers. Oh sure, you’ll admit to anyone who asks, you know you won’t win. But what the heck? You’re just buying a little fond fantasy.
So dream on.
After all, somebody has to win. The knowledge the dream becomes reality for some lottery players (albeit an infinitesimal number) is what makes the reverie so addictive. We are inspired and encouraged by the stories of those winners. We love what we imagine to be their happily-ever-after conclusions. They seduce us.
Which may explain why Catherine Annau can now officially call herself a wet blanket. The 39-year-old Toronto filmmaker has just completed a documentary that examines the post-prize lives of six lottery winners, and they’re anything but lollipops and roses.
The resulting film is a National Film Board co-production called, not surprisingly, Winning.
The award-winning creator of Just Watch Me: Trudeau and the 70s Generation, Annau has this time turned her lens on the postscripts to lottery winners’ happy endings.
“My dad,” says Annau, “always used to say, ‘Money doesn’t buy you happiness. It just allows you to be miserable in comfort.’ ”
She laughs. “But I just thought that was because he was Hungarian.”
Since making the film, she says, she has come to appreciate her father’s wisdom.
She discovered, thanks to the openness and frankness of her film subjects, windfalls could create real strife and conflict where none existed before.
Tina, a Newfoundlander who won $10 million after choosing ticket numbers based on Biblical references, says the sudden wealth simply gives you a whole new set of problems to replace your old ones.
Nor does it restore health or profoundly transform your personality. True, one of the film’s subjects, a New York State lottery winner, did overcome his poor self-image as he evolved into an American national celebrity. But most of the time, says Annau, winners remain fixed in their own patterns, albeit with nicer houses, nicer cars and nicer vacations.
Winning started out as an idea Annau had about money in a money-mad society, and class.
“We don’t talk a lot about class, especially in Canada. But I wanted to see how people would be affected by changing worlds once they’d won a lot of money.”
The discovery was one of the things that surprised her.
“Some of the winners felt alienated by their newfound status. They no longer felt socially linked to the place they came from and they were not socially linked to the place they found themselves in now.”
Another surprise discovery was the roller-coaster. According to Annau, winners experience extreme emotional ups and downs as they live through the aftermath of their big win.
“I didn’t expect to hear about the kind of guilt that comes with winning,” she says. “And the fear. Almost to a man, they said, ‘Six months after winning, I was terrified the money would go away.’ ”
Annau rounded out the subjects for her film in a variety of ways. She knew she wanted to portray the full winning process — that is, show a new winner, one who had won a while ago and one whose win was quite a few years ago — so she approached the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Commission. As luck would have it (although it took a year to happen), she was on hand when one couple came in to claim their big prize. They agreed to talk about their win and to be followed.
The two American winners who appear in the film she contacted via a Nashville journalist who had written about one of them — Curtis, “the five-million-dollar man.” Curtis, in turn, linked Annau with a buddy of his, another big winner of the New York State lottery. Annau wanted to include a couple of winners from south of the border to show the cultural contrast.
The Americans, she says, had become well-known figures. They were media heroes, and one of them, Curtis, even used to appear in lottery ads. That is not the case in Canada.
“Here, you wouldn’t know a lottery winner if you fell over one.”
That was one of the reasons why it wasn’t always easy to track them down.
“Even though the names of winners are public record, it still required some detective work. Many people, once they’ve won, simply disappear. It was a real challenge to find them.”
And not everyone wanted to be interviewed. Even some of those who had initially agreed later changed their minds.
“Many of them were worried about their children or about their privacy.”
But the ones who stayed with the project were very forthcoming, she says, and it is reflected in the film.
Annau, who never used to bother with lottery tickets, started buying them when she began work on her film. You buy a ticket, she says, and you start dreaming.
“Then you can really relate to the people you’re filming.”
Now that the film is finished and she’s moved on to new projects — including a film about personal debt in a hyper consumer society — she finds she hasn’t quite kicked the habit. Like people in two-thirds of the households across Canada, the director of Winning still likes buying into the fantasy now and again.
“I think it’s a fun thing,” she observes, careful to distinguish between lotteries and more addictive forms of gaming, such as slot machines and video gambling. “We all dream of being winners, whether it’s game shows or lotteries or investments. We all dream that if we’re smart enough, or lucky enough, we’ll strike it rich.”
The lottery ticket facilitates that little adventure in wishful thinking.
“It offers people hope. It offers them an outlet. It offers them,” she says, “a chance to dream.”
Ottawa Citizen
keep on keepin on & playin on 