About these ads

Category Archives: Interviews

Arias with Your Mouth Full: Legendary Lew Interviews Michael Smith on Manoel de Oliveira’s The Cannibals

“Legendary” Lew Ojeda recently interviewed me in advance of the screening of Manoel de Oliveira’s The Cannibals that I’ll be presenting at Facets Multimedia this Saturday at midnight. This interview originally appeared on the website of the Underground Multiplex, the community based arts organization Lew co-founded with Joseph R. Lewis. You can learn more about this useful organization here:

http://theundergroundmultiplex.wordpress.com/

canibais1

This Saturday night at midnight, indie filmmaker and instructor Michael Smith will present Portuguese director Manoel de Oliveira’s very rarely seen and incredibly strange opera, The Cannibals (Os Canibais), for Facets Night School. Straddling between the two cinematic worlds of art house finesse and grind house excess (think Marco Ferreri’s La Grande Bouffe), The Cannibals promises to blow your mind (if you don’t blow your chunks in the process).

LL: The Cannibals has been rarely shown in The United States. Could you tell us a little about the film?

MS: The Cannibals is one of the very best films of Manoel de Oliveira who is one of the world’s greatest living directors. Oliveira is best known in America not for any specific films but rather for having a freakishly long career. He directed his first film in 1931 (in what was still the silent era in his native Portugal) and he is currently in pre-production on a new film at the age of 104. But the movies themselves, which are made in conscious opposition to Hollywood conventions and have not been widely distributed in America, are great: they tend to be rigorous, deliberately paced literary or theatrical adaptations centered on the theme of doomed love. I think The Cannibals is an ideal introduction to Oliveira’s work because it shows off his playful side: it’s funny, surreal and very subversive. It shows the strong influence of Luis Bunuel.

LL: How is The Cannibals a bridge between art house cinema and midnight movies?

MS: I would describe it as a midnight movie disguised as an art film. I think it was brilliant of Oliveira to tell this particular story as an opera. It’s an adaptation of a 19th century novel but he hired a contemporary composer, Joao Paes, to write an original operatic score and libretto. Literally every line of dialogue in the movie is sung and the score is excellent. However, the film becomes weirder and weirder as it goes along until it reaches the climax, which is totally insane. I think Oliveira chose to work with the form of opera because no other artistic medium is so closely identified with the upper class — the true subject of his satire. He’s making fun of his target audience! Without giving anything away, I would say he wanted to cloak his movie in the semblance of respectability and “high art” in order to deliver a kind of devious sucker punch at the end. I almost want to compare The Cannibals to Takashi Miike’s Audition in terms of how it works. (If you’ve seen that film you know that it lulls you into a state of near-boredom before presenting a mind-fuck of an ending that is effective precisely because of what comes before.) I also hasten to add that it’s not necessary to understand anything about opera to appreciate this film. I myself know little about opera.

LL: Were there any other operas commissioned directly to cinema?

MS: I’m not aware of any. It’s very rare to have any kind of musical film in which all of the dialogue is sung. Les Miserables is an obvious example but that’s, of course, an adaptation of a well-known musical play that had a built-in fanbase. The only other film I can think of that comes close to fitting the bill is The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Jacques Demy commissioned Michel Legrand to write the original score and Demy himself wrote the dialogue, all of which is sung, but the style of the music is not that of an opera. So I think Oliveira’s achievement is singular and highly innovative.

LL: What do you wish to accomplish by presenting The Cannibals to a crowd accustomed to exploitation, sexploitation and violent trashy films?

MS: I’m glad that you asked. I hope to broaden viewers’ horizons as to what their perceptions of a midnight movie is. The Cannibals is not exploitative or trashy and yet, in a lot of ways, it’s far weirder than many of the movies to which those labels are often attached. This film is so odd, in fact, that I myself don’t even know how to fully process it! This is also a big part of the reason why I want to show it: presenting it to an audience will hopefully inspire everyone present to work together in making sense of it in our discussion afterwards.

canibais2

My thanks to Michael Smith for the interview. You can read his posts on the blog White City Cinema. It’s definitely worth your time.
Come feast your eyes and ears on The Cannibals at Facets Night School.
Saturday night April 27, 2013 at midnight
Facets Multimedia
1517 W Fullerton
Chicago, IL 60614
Admission: $5, FREE for Facets members! Become one here:

http://www.facets.org/pages/memberships.php

About these ads

Filmmaker Interview: Fernando Lavanderos

One of the highlights of this year’s Chicago Latino Film Festival is the Chilean movie Things the Way They Are (Las Cosas Como Son), the auspicious fiction feature debut of writer/director Fernando Lavanderos. (You can read my capsule review, in which I call it “the reason why film festivals exist,” here.) It is a gripping naturalistic drama about the intersection of three people from vastly different walks of life: Sanna, a twenty-something Norwegian woman, Jeronimo, a thirty-something upper-class Chilean man, and Milton, a working-class Chilean teenager. Things the Way They Are won the main prize in the Latin American section of the prestigious Mar del Plata International Film Festival last November and is now in the process of making the rounds of many more festivals around the globe. I spoke with Lavanderos (who, in addition to being a great filmmaker, is also a heck of a nice guy) at his Chicago hotel yesterday morning, the same day he introduced his first CLFF screening. Things the Way They Are plays for the second and final time tomorrow night with Lavanderos again in attendance for a Q&A. I could not recommend seeing this movie more highly.

things

MGS: You teach film production. Do you hire your students to work on your films?

FL: (laughing) Yeah, sometimes.

MGS: (laughing) For free, right?

FL: Yeah!

MGS: That’s funny. I’ve actually done that as well. I teach film history.

FL: Whole history? Or you’re specializing in . . .

MGS: Whole history. It’s sort of Intro to Film History – so we start in the silent era and go all the way up to the present day.

FL: Lumiere brothers?

MGS: Yeah, of course! I love their films.

FL: Yeah, I love it too.

MGS: So, the first thing I wanted to say about Things the Way They Are is that I was impressed by how subtle it is. Are you familiar with Robert Bresson?

FL: Yeah.

MGS: He said something I love. He said, “Hide your ideas but don’t hide them so well that the viewer cannot find them.” I thought of that when I saw your film because your film seems to be a commentary on society but when I watched it I was so wrapped up in the drama and the characters that I didn’t really think about what it was “about” until it was over. Was that your intention?

FL: Yes. My intention was to make a film about a simple story of a few characters living together in some . . . not drastic, dramatic action or problems or . . . I don’t know how to say, “heroes dramaticos?”

MGS: Not a heroic story?

FL: Yeah, I like to hide the topics of society, the social problems, things you can think about afterwards. So, yes, I wanted to hide some things, to make the audience to think about, to not put everything clear. At the end it’s like that, you know, it’s so open.

MGS: Yes. The ending is very ambiguous.

FL: Yeah. So the reason is, I like to end with a question, not with morality. I like to make things happen so the audience thinks about that whatever they want to think.

MGS: Right. I loved the ending. It reminds me of Italian Neorealism because, like you say, the ending is open; it’s like the ending of Bicycle Thieves. But also the acting and the dialogue in your film seems very realistic, very natural. Were you influenced by Neorealism at all?

FL: Yeah, I use non-actors and I’m influenced not only by Neorealism but also Iranian films like Kiarostami and maybe, in some kind of way, the first films of Lars Von Trier and Dogme 95. In my first film (Y las Vacas Vuelan), it was a cross of the fiction and documentary and you couldn’t know who is who — who is acting, who is being. It’s a mix of real people that are in a film and they don’t know they are in a film, and there are people that are acting and they are lying to them.

MGS: That sounds very much like Kiarostami. He got his start, of course, making documentaries and he frequently mixes fiction and non-fiction. And you’ve made documentaries as well, yes?

FL: Yeah, I made a feature documentary about children of the streets. And then I made a television documentary show that was a very rough documentary without a narrator. It was only observation. We spent like a month shooting with different kind of families in Santiago. It was a very good experience. I spent like two or three years making that thing. We work together with Sebastian Lelio. You know him? Gloria? Gloria that won the Best Actress Golden Bear (at the Berlin Film Festival)?

MGS: Oh yeah, of course. Cassavetes.

FL: No, no. This year was the premiere of Gloria, a Chilean film influenced by Cassavetes (laughs). The film won the Golden Bear for Best Actress this year. We worked together on that series. So, I like to make documentaries but I like more to make feature (fiction) films that I stole some kind of things of the documentary. You know, Godard say something like, “Every fiction has some things about the documentary and documentary about the fiction.” I cannot say it in English . . .

cosas2

MGS: Yeah, I know the quote. (“All great fiction films tend towards documentary, just as all great documentaries tend toward fiction… each word implies a part of the other. And he who opts wholeheartedly for one, necessarily finds the other at the end of his journey.” – ed.)

FL: I believe in that mix and I believe you can make it appear spontaneous in the fiction, make it natural, make it more credible. I work with non-actors and I made a lot of improvisations in the dialogues.

MGS: So the actors in Things the Way They Are are not professionals?

FL: No, neither of them are professional. The main character (Cristobal Palma) is a photographer. It was his very first experience in acting. She (Ragni Orsal Skogsrod) studied acting but she didn’t finish. And, of course, the boy (Isaac Arriagada) is not an actor.

MGS: How did you find her? Was she living in Chile?

FL: No. I made casting by internet. (laughs) I have a friend in Norway. He helps me a lot. And then I start to make interviews by Skype.

MGS: (laughing) She auditioned by Skype?

FL: Yeah, yeah. In Skype I act with her.

MGS: So you read the script with her?

FL: No, no. Not the script. It was acting different things. Just to know a little bit how is the performance. And then I ask her to shoot a thing that I write, like a very short, short film. But not to make it so accomplished, but to see her acting . . .

MGS: Like an audition tape?

FL: Yeah. And she shoot it there in Norway. It was very good. So finally we were together. The only problem was she didn’t speak Spanish. (laughs) So she said she can learn it in very few months, like four or five months. And she learn it in that time. She started classes from zero because she didn’t speak nothing of Spanish, and came to Chile speaking quite well to be a foreigner that is just in the country. And she arrived like one and a half months before the film so she can continue learning there. Of course, we made huge amount of rehearsals, different kind of rehearsals, so she started to take to the language.

MGS: That’s amazing. It seems like how you made the movie kind of mirrors what the movie’s about.

FL: Yeah, because they are three people that come from very different worlds. The boy (Arriagada), I found him in workshops that I made in the school of the working class. So, for him, to be in this movie was very unique, very special. So he came to this world that was the movie. And, sharing with her (Skogsrod) and with him (Palma), the interactions were just like the movie. Also, I prevent the boy to meet with Cristobal, the actor. The first time they meet, it’s in the film.

MGS: The first time they met in person was on camera?

FL: On camera, yeah. (laughs)

MGS: Wow. Now I want to go back and watch it again. (laughs) It seemed like the characters almost represented different ideas: Sanna wanted to help solve social problems in Chile but Jernonimo was very detached and didn’t want to become involved. Was it important to you that she was European? Was that a commentary on globalization?

FL: Yeah, yeah. It was important to me that she came from Europe. Jeronimo is a mix. We are a mix. The Spanish people got here, to that territory, and the Indian people were there. And we, growing up, follow models that came from the first world. And this girl came from the other side of the earth. The first world, they are coming to Latin America, coming to the “wild side.” Some people have the intentions that they can make some things (better). But the other side is that they don’t have the experience to be there.

MGS: Right.

FL: So I wanted to make these three worlds – he (Jeronimo) is a mix, the boy (Milton) is totally the descendant of the Indian people, like 300 or 400 years ago . . . And now it’s the same thing: the working class follow the upper class that is the colony that is making the rules. So I think they are three separate worlds. Now in the world is globalization; okay, let’s take three characters without judging them and saying “okay she is like very idealistic and so naïve . . .” No, she is making the things she believes and it’s very good. There is a scene in the film where Jeronimo said “So you think we need more Nordic young girls to save us?” But she is saying like “Okay, you prefer to do nothing?” There’s not a solution. It’s not like “Okay, she’s right” or “he’s right” . . .

MGS: Nobody’s right.

FL: Nobody’s right, yeah.

MGS: Your film is mostly serious but there were a few moments in the film where I laughed. I loved the scene where Jeronimo sees Sanna, in his yard, wearing a bikini and then you cut to him presenting her with a new light for her room. It was so funny to me that he just wanted an excuse to talk to her. Is humor important to you?

FL: (laughs) Yeah, it’s very important. I love the humor. I wanted, in everything that I tried to make, to be some irony things of life. But it’s the kind of documentary things. Like they appear, some things, they are so funny sometimes. For example, in the dinner scene when the boy makes some comments that are very funny, like, “So you don’t like to leave the house alone?” (laughs) He (Arriagada) had some intentions, I talk a lot with him, so he knows more or less what he’s going to achieve but he’s very smart to make those comments appear in those places. It’s more the documentary way. It’s funny because it’s spontaneous.

MGS: It’s funny in a way that real life is funny.

FL: Yeah.

MGS: Well, thank you so much for talking to me and good luck with your screenings.

FL: Thank you. It was very nice conversation.

cosas

Ticket info and directions to the theater for tomorrow night’s screening can be found here:

http://chicagolatinofilmfestival.org/film/things-the-way-they-are/.


Personal Video Consultant Interview: Miguel Martinez

Miguel Martinez just ended a tenure of eight-plus years in the legendary Rentals Department of Facets Multimedia in Chicago. He and his girlfriend are moving to Seattle to pursue their film/media dreams. So I thought now would be a good time to interview the man who coined the term “Personal Video Consultant,” which Facets has adopted to describe its employees. There is no phrase more fitting to indicate the kind of invaluable face-to-face interaction with a true expert that only going to a good old brick-and-mortar video store can provide – an experience that, needless to say, can never be replicated when streaming/downloading movies online. Miguel and I recently had coffee and chatted about the ever-changing culture of home video.

miguel

MGS: The reason why I wanted to talk to you is because, as you know, I worked in Facets Rentals for years but only during the VHS era. You’ve worked there for years but only during the DVD era. So between the two of us I figured we could fruitfully discuss the culture of home video – its past, present and future. First of all, you’re moving to Seattle in 12 days. Are you going to apply for a job at Scarecrow Video?

MM: (laughs) That’s on the back burner. I’ll probably send an introductory e-mail and tell them I worked here at Facets and this and that, and hopefully they’ll say, “Yeah, we need part-time help.”

MGS: How did you first start working at Facets?

MM: I worked at the Landmark Theater for about three years and the first time I ever got a debit card I went straight to Facets because I’d been reading about the place for a long time. I think I first read about Facets in a Leonard Maltin book. Then, I read about it in Roger Ebert’s book – talking about all these obscure videos. A friend of mine, who used to work at the Virgin Megastore back in the Nineties with me, was working there. So he kind of hooked me up with free rentals. Since I was an employee at the Landmark we got free rentals there (as part of a reciprocal program that no longer exists – MGS). And then, almost exactly a year later, I lost my job at the Landmark and I was hired by one of the managers I became friends with at Facets. That was in 2004. I’ve definitely seen the end of VHS, the beginning of mainstream DVDs being released, and I’m seeing the beginning of Blu-ray, the beginning of downloading, and now I’m leaving when everything’s at its peak . . .

MGS: You’re getting out at the right time. (laughs)

MM: I’m getting out at the right time. They just decided to close down 300 more Blockbusters.

MGS: I read that. That announcement was made today. I think there are 800 now so there are only going to be about 500 after they close those 300. It’s probably only a matter of time before those are all gone too.

MM: There are only four or five left in Chicago.

MGS: I can’t even think of where they are.

MM: I think two are on the north side, two are on the south side.

MGS: I can tell you where a bunch of empty storefronts are where they used to be. (laughs) So when you started at Facets in 2004, they carried DVD at that point?

MM: Yeah, I still remember the first week or two I was there, Kill Bill came out on DVD. It was like number 65000 and the DVDs started at 60000 so that was like the 5000th DVD. They started collecting DVDs maybe a year or two prior.

MGS: Right. And that was fairly late in the game for DVD. Because I worked at Facets from ’95 to ’98 when It was all VHS. I quit in the spring and I bought a DVD player in December of that year. And I was the only person I knew who had one. I paid an obscene amount of money – like 300 dollars. And you couldn’t rent DVDs from anywhere. I would go to the Virgin Megastore and they had a pretty small selection of DVDs for sale. I would comb through it and I would just buy whatever they had that I really liked. I always say if you owned a DVD player in the Nineties, it meant you were a hardcore cinephile. Ironically, the same is now true if you still watch VHS.

Anyway, I never went back to Facets for years after quitting so I was a little unclear on how they made that transition.

MM: The first time I heard about Facets back in the mid-Nineties, I bought a laser disc player off a friend of mine. And there was a laser disc store right by Facets. I was like, “This place is cool.”

MGS: I used to rent from there all the time! I would leave Facets with VHS tapes and then go to the laser disc store down the street and rent a laser disc.

MM: That started the whole idea of going to Facets but I was never able to get a credit card. To this day I still can’t get one. My identity was stolen five years ago and that prevented a lot of stuff from happening. There are a lot of Miguel Martinezes all over the country . . . It’s a big headache.

MGS: Right. I have the same problem ’cause I’m Michael Smith. I can’t check in online for a flight because I guess there’s somebody who has my name who’s a wanted criminal. I have to do it in person so they can make sure I’m not “Michael Smith the fugitive.” (laughs)

MM: I tell ya, with these very straight names that are popular – like Michael Smith or Miguel Martinez – it prevents us from doing anything . . .

MGS: Exactly. If I ever have kids I’m gonna name them something totally fucked up.

MM: Oh yeah, I’m gonna name them something like Chantal. Give ‘em a French name or something.

MGS: Like Chantal Akerman?

MM: Or Chantal Goya.

MGS: Yeah, right. So is it safe to say you first fell in love with movies because of home video? Describe the process of how that happened.

MM: Well, I grew up with VHS. I wasn’t allowed to watch R-rated movies at home (I would tape the censored versions of movies from TV since we didn’t have cable). My cousin and I would rent videotapes for a buck and rent six movies at a time every Saturday and watch them at my aunt’s place. We watched everything. All horror, all the time. Then I really got into martial arts films (hand-to-hand, wuxia) because every Sunday here in Chicago, on WGN, was Samurai Sunday. They showed nothing but old school kung fu movies. The rest is history.

MGS: That’s funny. In Charlotte, North Carolina, where I grew up, it was called “Kung Fu Action Theater” and it was on every Saturday; I grew up on Shaw Brothers’ films dubbed into English.

I think you and I both feel strangely optimistic about the future of home video but I know you also stream and download a lot. What role do you think brick-and-mortar video stores have to play in the wake of this new technology?

MM: That’s a tough question to answer because every video store has its own set of customer tastes. Its role is to serve the community but it all depends on the community it’s in. If you have a “meat and potatoes” kind of city like Chicago, it’s tough. There are still video stores here but a lot of them survive on Adult titles.

The one advantage video stores have over Netflix and Redbox is that they really don’t have to abide by the “release window” set by the studios. In other words, no exclusives. Indie stores can carry what they want and can satisfy a customer’s new release fix every Tuesday. Some stores even break the release schedule and put out DVDs for rent Monday nights, which is a big no no in this industry.

MGS: Well, I also know you’re an advocate of Blu-ray, like me, even though a lot of other cinephiles I know seem reluctant to embrace the format. Hopefully, Blu-ray will bring more people into the remaining video stores.

Miguel, thanks so much for your time and best of luck in Seattle!

chantal


Filmmaker Interview: Jan Troell

Last week I had the great privilege of interviewing the Swedish director Jan Troell when he came to the Chicago International Film Festival for the U.S. premiere of his new movie The Last Sentence. This screening was hot on the heels of the world premiere at the Montreal World Film Festival where Troell deservedly won the Best Director prize. Unfortunately, Troell, a contemporary of Ingmar Bergman and one of the greatest living filmmakers, remains too little known outside of Scandinavia. In the U.S. he is probably best known for his early 1970s masterpieces The Emigrants and The New Land, a long out-of-print two-part epic starring Max Von Sydow and Liv Ullman, and Everlasting Moments, his terrific 2008 film, which is available in a superb Blu-ray edition via the Criterion Collection. The Last Sentence is a worthy addition to Troell’s body of work; it tells the powerful true story of Trogny Segerstedt – brilliantly played by the Danish actor Jesper Christenson – a Swedish journalist who crusaded against Hitler from 1933 (long before it was fashionable) until the end of WWII.

Jan Troell is more vigorous and youthful-looking in person than his 81 years might lead one to believe; although he told me he thought Everlasting Moments might be his last film, he has also recently spoken of beginning a new film, an autobiographical drama based on his family’s relationships with their maids over the years, that one hopes will come to fruition. During the course of our nearly 30-minute face-to-face chat, Troell was soft-spoken, forthright and very friendly. The last thing he said to me during the interview is a compliment I will always cherish. Accompanying Troell to CIFF was his whip-smart daughter Yohanna, who is in the process of finishing a documentary about the making of The Last Sentence. Yohanna occasionally made valuable contributions to our conversation and, less frequently, helped her father translate a stray word or two of Swedish into English. One also hopes that she will continue in her father’s formidable filmmaking footsteps.

MGS: Your best-known films are period pieces. Is there something you find especially compelling about making films set in the past?

JT: I know that I’m a very nostalgic kind of person. I think it’s a great pleasure – this sort of feeling of living in another period that for some reason fascinates me. That I guess is one reason. But the most practical reason is I started out with an epic film by a Swedish author, Here is Your Life, and that led to another big epic film, The Emigrants, which I was asked to do. So in a way I ended up in this niche, so I got other offers of that kind. But there are a couple of feature films that are contemporary too and I also all the time work parallel with documentary short films.

MGS: So you’re saying producers think of you as someone who does period films?

JT: That’s one part of it, yeah.

YT: I guess it also has to do with the fact that you make a lot of films about real people who have lived and you’re fascinated by their stories and usually they’re dead by now. (laughs)

JT: I think it’s fascinating to try to get inside people who really existed once, to get to know them. I also feel very comfortable having something I believe in myself. I believe in the story. It’s not the result of some other person’s imagination. That’s part of it. And so there are several different reasons for it.

MGS: What initially attracted you to Trogny Segerstedt as a subject for a movie?

JT: That it came at a very crucial moment in my life. I was offered to do it. I had just finished the film before (Everlasting Moments) and it might very well have been my last film because it’s not easy to get a film through. It takes years. And so I welcomed the invitation and the invitation came from the author of a biography (on Segerstedt) who’s name is Kenne Fant, who was also the head of the Swedish film industry who produced so many of Ingmar Bergman’s films. And he was also the head of that company when I made the first feature film Here is Your Life and The Emigrants and The New Land and so on. So we knew each other rather well.

MGS: You said in the documentary Troell’s Magic Mirror that in 1940 the Swedish people were very afraid Germany might invade Sweden. And you said you think that affected your personality as a child. Did you use any of your own memories of that time in the making of The Last Sentence?

JT: Just the feeling of it – the people, the way they looked and so on. I’m sure this film gives a very good feeling of the period. But the real memories of the war started with the war. I remember very, very well seeing the headlines in the street when I was walking to go swimming. It was a very hot day. And the letters on the papers were as big as this (holds fingers six inches apart). It just said “WAR.”

MGS: There was a moment early on in the film that surprised me where a character says that the Swedish Jews are more cultivated than the German Jews. But it made sense because I thought this must be how people in Europe outside of Germany rationalized the persecution of the Jews in Germany. Was that a widespread feeling in Sweden at the time?

JT: Yeah. I think also that many of the Jews in Berlin, they came from Poland and were poor people. This line in the film is taken word-by-word from what this man who says it in the film had written in a letter to Segerstedt as early as 1932. So I had it from the page. He (also) says “If the Jews are annihilated, it would not be good for business.” (chuckles in disbelief)

MGS: Wow, that’s scary. Something else that surprised me was seeing how forceful Segerstedt’s language was in denouncing Hitler as early as 1933. Today it’s common to hear people say that no one knew what a threat Hitler posed until it was too late and yet 1933 was early in Hitler’s career. Segerstedt clearly knew very early on . . .

JT: From the very first day. He wrote this article maybe five days after Hitler came to power. But he had written some article already in the Twenties warning for Hitler.

MGS: I’d like to ask you about the visual style of the film. It looks very different from Everlasting Moments, which had a lot of film grain and very warm colors. The Last Sentence was shot in digital black and white and the images are very clean and crisp. Is it important for you to try and do something different in terms of style each time out or does the style grow out of the subject matter?

JT: I think the style grows out of the subject, definitely. First, I wanted to shoot on 35 but we couldn’t afford that. We didn’t have enough money. So I had to decide on Super 16 as we had on (Everlasting Moments). We made tests on 16 and on 35 and I was more or less persuaded to try a new camera – Alexa. I said it’s almost like a real film camera. I didn’t intend to use that (initially) and then I saw the tests. There was no question about it. The Alexa was even better than the 35. It’s so sensitive to light that you can shoot in almost no light at all. And also it’s made to, if you shoot digitally, you can add the 35mm feeling, that it’s not 100% crisp. You get the grain. You can put any kind of grain on it.

MGS: In camera or in post-production?

JT: Afterwards. And we talked about that. We thought we would make tests but I decided not to because I liked this very exact feeling for this film. And that was my very vague thoughts from the beginning; I didn’t want any handheld camera, I didn’t want a lot of movements – in a way like he (Segerstedt) was.

MGS: Right, so it reflects his personality. There’s a great quote from Liv Ullmann where she said she never knew what you were shooting during The Emigrants because you were always holding the camera in your hands and panning around with it. In The Last Sentence, the style is more static and, like you say, exact. Is there any camera movement in the film? I can’t remember.

YT: Yeah, there is. But you don’t notice it.

JT: Oh, yes. Of course, I pan and so on but not many traveling camera shots.

YT: I made the behind-the-scenes film and I interviewed the actors and they’re all saying the same thing. Even in this film, for instance, Pernilla August, who plays Maja (Segerstedt’s mistress) and Jesper, of course, they’re talking about how it always keeps them on their toes because, even though they’ve made up exactly how they’re going to do it, they never know . . . My father might stop on the way, and then he comes to them, and so it’s still like shooting a documentary.

MGS: So they still don’t know exactly what he’s going to do?

JT: That’s one reason for me operating the camera myself. Because I don’t have to decide 100% in advance how or if to move the camera. I always get a focus puller who knows the way I work so he’s prepared to change the focus. It depends on what’s happening in front of the camera; suddenly I feel I should go here or there.

MGS: You go with how you feel in the moment?

JT: Not completely but very much, yeah.

MGS: One movie I thought of while watching The Last Sentence was Gertrud by Carl Dreyer. Was that an influence on you at all?

JT: Oh yes, I’ve seen it but, well, you never know where you get the influences from. I hadn’t thought of that.

MGS: There was something about the quality of the black and white and the dialogue scenes of well-dressed people speaking to each other in rooms and the rigorousness and precision of it all that made me think of that.

YT: Good Night and Good Luck was one of the films we saw.

JT: Oh yes. I love that film. That is in beautiful black and white. I had a DVD with extra material, where you see people interviewed, you see the location, that’s in color and it’s not at all as good. I didn’t decide 100% to end up in black and white (for The Last Sentence) but I thought from the beginning, “I hope I would end up in black and white.” And for the first time in my working life, the producer did not oppose it. So that made me a little bit worried. (laughs) Now it’s all up to me, it’s a big decision. Anyway, before, there were a couple of films I wanted black and white but it was impossible because of money and because of television. They demand color. Or did.

MGS: What do you think has changed that now black and white is more acceptable?

JT: I think the first thing, maybe, it has become a trend. It’s been a trend in commercials, advertising, on T.V. It’s supposed to be very artistic. So people see that and sometimes think it’s a plus. That is one thing. Of course, there was the Austrian director (Michael Haneke) who made this film The White Ribbon. It’s so beautiful. That was filmed in color too. And he didn’t know for sure that it would end up in black and white. But he managed to get it through all the way. As the Coen brothers did for The Man Who Wasn’t There. That was released as a DVD in both versions. Have you seen it?

MGS: I’ve not seen the color version but I’ve heard the color is very desaturated.

JT: Yeah, I prefer the black and white. But this doesn’t mean I always prefer black and white, of course. But for this (The Last Sentence), I’m sure it’s the right choice because, for me anyway, this period in life is black and white: my parents, the images, all the photographs of me as a child, all the documentaries from the war, all those things. At that time every film was in black and white.

MGS: All of the recent films you just named are period films too, so I think we all think of the past in black and white.

JT: That’s right.

MGS: What about the use of the documentary inserts? Why did you decide to include them?

JT: Well, that I knew from the beginning I would use. I was thinking a lot of how to use it because it’s so overdone. You’ve seen those scenes from the war. You see it almost every day on T.V. Many of them are so well known. I tried to find some that I didn’t think had been shown too much. I decided to not make it as technically perfect as possible. So I filmed with a film camera – we projected the films and I used the camera to shoot since I could move inside the image and I also had zooms, which I didn’t have in those days.

MGS: There’s one shot in particular of Hitler petting a dog that’s very brief . . .

JT: Yeah, yeah, I panned in that.

MGS: Did you include that because of Segerstedt’s relationships to his own dogs?

JT: Of course.

MGS: I thought it was interesting that the most poignant relationship in the whole film was between him and his dogs.

JT: Yeah. I’m sure it was like that in his life too. It has been witnessed.

MGS: I have one final question for you. There are two ideas in this movie that I think are related that are very powerful: one is the importance of having a free press, the other is in the line of dialogue about how silence is acquiescence. Do you think these ideas are particularly relevant in the world today?

JT: Definitely, yes. Also in Sweden (specifically), because there’s no censorship but there is, I think, some self-censorship. There are things that are so touchy to write about.

YT: I think, especially now with the internet, you can get so harassed, which is a big threat. If Segerstedt had been on the internet, I think he would’ve been in much bigger trouble than he was. (laughs) So there’s definitely a parallel.

MGS: Well, hopefully, there are still some people around like Segerstedt today. Thank you so much for your time. Your answers were great.

JT: Your questions were great. They weren’t the usual questions.

Music Box Films has acquired U.S. distribution rights for The Last Sentence. Hopefully, it will return to Chicago soon.


Filmmaker Interview: Adel Yaraghi

Adel Yaraghi is an Iranian writer/director whose uncommonly assured debut feature, Meeting Leila, received its North American premiere last night at the Chicago International Film Festival. The title character of this sweet and touching comedy is a perfume tester (A Separation‘s Leila Hatami) who demands that her fiance (Yaraghi), a chain-smoking advertisement writer, give up cigarettes before their upcoming wedding. I had the pleasure of recently speaking to Yaraghi about the film, his mentor Abbas Kiarostami (with whom he co-wrote the film’s original screenplay and whom he still refers to reverentially as “Mr. Kiarostami”) and what it was like working with the great Leila Hatami. Meeting Leila will screen tonight (with Yaraghi in attendance) and again on Saturday. I urge every Chicagoan reading this to check it out. It is one of the highlights of this year’s festival.

MGS: You went to film school in the U.S. and worked in the American film industry for a while. Was it ever your intention to make movies in America or did you always plan on taking your training back to Iran so you could make movies back home?

AY: No, I did not actually think I was going to go back to Iran. I studied here and I started working here for a while for Roger Corman. I decided to be an editor because I was not thinking that I can make films here because it is so difficult. So things worked out that I got this job editing. I was an assistant editor for a few shows and then also a feature film; it was called Almost Salinas. And then I went back to Iran just to visit and one thing led to another and I stayed two, three, four months. And things worked out so that I stayed to clear some things up financially over there. And after a couple of years I decided, “Okay, now I can go back (to the States).” I was on my way back. I was in Dubai, I think. A friend of mine called and he said that Mr. Kiarostami is having a workshop close to where I used to live. I had no idea that I could meet him ever because it was so big for me. I really loved his films. So I came back to Iran just to go to the workshop. I didn’t believe that it’s going to be him teaching. I thought I was going to go there and there’s an assistant and things like that. But he was there and he received me very well and he asked me a couple questions and he said, “We only have two or three meetings left. If you want to come, you’re welcome.” So I started and it worked so that they made short films about a certain subject – 2, 3, 4, 5-minute films every week. People would come in every week. They would meet for seven hours and they would bring DVDs of the films that they had made with very little budget – like, pocket money. That was the only requirement of the class.

MGS: So it was like film school?

YA: Yeah, yeah. Much better for me because I had my BA and MFA here for six years (in the U.S.) but I learned more during those times (in Kiarostami’s workshop) because it’s hands on. You make films. So I made some films and he liked some. The first two I made he liked. So I was supposed to go to the next workshop. The next workshop, he didn’t like my first film, which I thought is going to be great because I had worked on it very much. He started talking about the film, why it is not good, and I did not understand a word he was saying. I didn’t know where he was coming from so I decided to quit. I thought, “It’s not my thing. I’ll go do something else. Cinema is not for me.” Because I believed in him, really, and what he was saying. But then I decided to go back. I thought, “Okay, every week I will make a film. I will take it to class. He has to talk about it. And I will steal that time from him.” Otherwise, he has no time for me. And then out of these films I will find out, during these three months or six months, am I going to be able to continue or not? Is this my thing or not? And then, little by little, he started to like – and then love – my films. And then one thing led to another and then he gave me an idea to make a feature film. And he thought I’m a great actor (laughs) because I played in a couple of the short films that I made. And then he said, “I have an idea that I wanted to make but I couldn’t find the right person for it. And you’re the right person. I’ll give you the idea on one condition – if you play it.” And I said, “Fine. All right.” So I wrote the script based on his story. And then I gave it to him and things started to go.

MGS: One thing that really impressed me about your film was the compositions. The framing is very precise, which is something you don’t see in a lot of first films. I loved the first shot of the film, where your character, Nader, is in the background and his cell phone and his cigarettes are in the foreground.

YA: That’s one take.

MGS: One take?

YA: Only one take. I just got it because I thought maybe we’ll use it, maybe not. We didn’t repeat it at all.

MGS: Oh, you didn’t even know that was going to be the first shot?

YA: No, I knew it was going to be the first shot but I didn’t know if it’s going to be in the film. I thought, “Okay, let’s get this shot. I’d like to start with this but let’s see. We’ll just take it and we’ll see.”

MGS: I thought that shot was really funny because the phone rings and you think he’s going to reach for the phone but he grabs his cigarettes instead. It tells you so much about his character without any dialogue.

YA: Exactly. I’m glad you like it.

MGS: There were a lot of scenes like that, where the humor comes out of either the composition or the editing – or the lack of editing – because you don’t seem to like a lot of cutting. My favorite scene in the film is the one where Nader is buying the ashtray: he’s talking on his cell phone and he’s getting really angry and he starts pacing and it seems like he’s going to break something. That whole thing was one long take and I think that made it funnier somehow. How did you decide how to shoot that?

YA: Yeah, it was intentional. How did I decide to shoot that? There is only a couple (examples) of handheld camerawork in the film. And I wanted that to be handheld.

MGS: It feels like a documentary.

YA: Yes. That’s my intention in that scene. I want it to feel real. I thought it would add to the tension for it to be handheld. Plus, if I started cutting it would reduce its reality and the feel of being real.

MGS: I want to ask you about Leila Hatami. She’s a phenomenal actress and she’s worked with a lot of great directors. Was it intimidating for you to either direct her or act opposite her?

YA: To be honest with you, one of my biggest problems making this film was that I could not imagine who would be the lady playing the part. But somehow the first person that came to my mind was Leila Hatami. But here I am making my first film – first actor, first director, first everything – and here she is. She wasn’t as big at the time because she got to be very famous with the last film, A Separation. I didn’t know. That movie hadn’t come out. She had acted in it but I had no idea. So I had her in mind but I thought, you know, it’s almost impossible. So I started to look for other people but I always had her in the back of my mind. I was afraid to say to anybody that I want Leila for the film because I knew I had to pay a lot of money. I knew I had to do a lot of things and she might come and she might not. There was little chance for her to come. Mr. Kiarostami asked me a question. He says, “You have to tell me what your strategy is so I can show you the tactic. Do you want a first rate actress, do you want second or third?” I said, “I’ll think about it and I’ll tell you tomorrow.” So I thought to myself, “This is a good opportunity for me. Finally I’m making a film. The script is co-written by Mr. Kiarostami. So I should go all the way. I don’t want a half-assed thing.” So I came back and I said, “I want a first rate actress.” He said, “Who do you mean?” I said, “Leila or someone else.” He said, “Whoah, you have a lot of confidence. Do you have some way of getting to her?” I said, “Well, I have a couple of friends that know her.” So anyway I called her through a friend of mine and she was very difficult at first. Not difficult but she was maybe not interested, maybe afraid because she had played this role in such an important film (A Separation) and she didn’t want to right after that do a film that nobody knows about. But then, after a couple times I talked to her, she agreed to read the script. So she read the script and then she agreed to meet ’cause she said she likes it. Then we met and she says, “I like my husband.” Meaning me in the film. Then she says, “Now I want to see your short films.” So I sent her all the films. From then on she was very easy to work with. No, I wasn’t afraid at all.

MGS: I think it’s interesting that she said she liked her husband; another great scene is the one where Leila and Nader leave the movie theater and she gives him the cigarette. They’re sitting on opposite park benches, facing each other, and she says to him, “This is your last cigarette.” But when she says it, she has this little smile on her face . . .

YA: Right, right, right. She knows it might not be . . .

MGS: I thought that was such an interesting choice because I think a lot of actresses would have played that line a little bit angrier. When you’re rehearsing a scene like that are you specific about telling your actors what you want or do you allow them to find their own emotional response?

YA: That scene, again, it was one take: one of her, one of me.

MGS: Did you rehearse it?

YA: Not so much. I told her what I wanted out of the scene and she’s professional. She did a great job. Yeah, that’s the line. “This is your last cigarette.” In Farsi she says it so nice. So powerful.

MGS: And so that smile was her, that’s what she brings?

YA: Yeah, exactly. I’m glad you noticed. Another little sentence that she says in the red car . . . What does she say that I like so much? “What do I do with you?” She’s very sweet at some points and it really punctures through your feelings.

MGS: Absolutely. It makes the whole film very sweet.

YA: Yeah, she was very good. She made it very easy to work. I also was very nice to her because I explained the film to her. I explained even how we were going to shoot a scene. She was surprised because she says people don’t do that. They don’t tell you what they want to do. I told her, “This is how the camera is set up and this is how it’s going to be.” I even asked her if she was okay with that. And she liked it a lot from the beginning, from the get-go.

MGS: The ending of the film is delightfully ambiguous. Are you optimistic that Nader is done smoking for good? (laughs)

YA: No, no. I think that ending is kind of smart because you could take any side and say, a hundred percent, he promised and he’s such a dedicated person. He was very serious in the car: “When I make a promise, I make a promise.” But then again somehow you could make the same argument against him because every time he promises about this matter . . .

MGS: So each audience member kind of writes their own ending?

YA: Exactly. Depending on the character that they get from the film.

MGS: I felt like he was probably going to smoke again but I also felt that their relationship was good. I felt like that was going to work even if he continued to smoke.

YA: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

MGS: It seems like a lot of prominent Iranian directors are working outside of Iran now either by choice or by necessity. Do you feel optimistic about the future of the Iranian film industry?

YA: We have Kiarostami, which is a great mentor. I think he has made a great influence, aside from the other parts of the world, in our cinema. If nothing else on acting, natural acting. He’s very helpful with people that are serious about work and about what they want to do. Then there is the person who did my sound, the supervising sound editor, Mr. Delpak, who’s done Mr. Kiarostami’s film (Like Someone in Love) too. He’s a great mentor. So having these people still there, yeah, I hope that good films still come out of Iran. Iranian literature is very strong but somehow it hasn’t gotten out because of translations or other problems. Our literature, our poetry is very rich. So, there is that background and that backing for the films. And there’s now these modern filmmakers that have made ways easier for us to make films. Their films have been seen and accepted and regarded as good films. And now it helps new filmmakers to follow their path and be accepted and well received all over the world. So, yes, I’m hopeful. I see a lot of light at the end of the tunnel.

MGS: Best of luck to you.

YA: You too. Thank you so much.

You can purchase tickets to Meeting Leila here.


A Razor Blade in a Dildo: An Interview with Julian Grant

Julian Grant is the Chicago-based writer/director of F*ckload of Scotch Tape, an impressive, no-budget neo-noir/musical that will receive its world premiere at the Chicago International Film Festival next week. As I noted in my capsule review from last Monday, the film that has already come to be known affectionately as FLOST is made with a fuckload of filmmaking heart. I recently interviewed Julian about this gonzo movie, a guaranteed cult item in the making.

Julian Grant directing Graham Jenkins in F*ckload of Scotch Tape

MGS: As I understand it, you began making cable TV movies as a director-for-hire in the 90s, then became a director of microbudget indies after you started teaching film production at Columbia College a few years ago. What lessons did you learn from your cable experience that you’ve been able to apply to your work as an indie director? Also, can you clarify for me what you see as the relationship between your roles as teacher and indpendent filmmaker?

JG: I’ve made a lot of movies over the years and always had to deliver maximum bang for the buck. From kickboxing dramas for Lionsgate to high-action mini-series for Syfy or romantic weepies for Lifetime, I was tied to the world of ‘movies’ – cinematic product that was market driven and defined by advertising, cast and proven formula. It’s not a bad world – but it’s a limiting one for an artist sometimes. As I became a full time professor, I was able to return to my love of ‘film’ and as such make anything that I could afford. It meant that I had to eschew the cheese trays and multi-camera world of moviemaking and dial into the more personal world of DIY LO-FI filmmaking. Worlds became character driven and I moved away from readily identifiable genre and market driven formula. of course, the irony is – the more you ignore the pretty girl, the more she wants you.

MGS: FLOST is a great neo-noir. A lot of big budget Hollywood movies try for a “noir feel” by using voice-over narration and nighttime exteriors but they miss capturing the true spirit of those original films from the 40s and 50s. FLOST reminds me of great b-movies like Detour in the way that it captures a sordid atmosphere of sleaziness and rank desperation. How much of that mood comes from the Jed Ayres’ stories on which the film is based and how much of it comes from your love of classic movies of this genre?

JG: Jed’s a great writer and the tone of his work inspired me to rework it into a cinematic world very reminiscent of Ed Ulmer and the poverty row pictures of yesterday. Dennis Potter (Pennies From Heaven, The Singing Detective) from the UK was an even greater influence and FLOST is very much a love letter to the palooka who can’t get a break and has to fight and sing his way out of trouble. Imagine a 30s version of Fight Club mashed up with Glee, and you’ve got a sample of what I was trying to do.

MGS: A couple of other films I thought of while watching FLOST were John Boorman’s Point Blank and Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy. As in the former, there is a plot involving a protagonist beating the hell out of one person after another in pursuit of a bag of money, and complex editing schemes including a montage that flashes back to all of the moments of violence throughout the film. As in the latter, there is the revenge theme as well as the use of a hammer as an important prop in one of the fight scenes. Were either of these movies a conscious influence on you?

JG: Point Blank is definitely a reference and the gritty ethos of all Asian action cinema runs through this as well. Park’s Oldboy is a friggin’ masterwork and his ‘hammer moment’ is just lovely – in a horrible way. Editing and violence go together like chocolate and peanut butter and my editor, Jason Robert Becker and I had long talks about what we wanted to do and just mix-mastered the hell out of everything to represent state of mind, time frame and emotional resonance. Who says editing is just to show who does what and where?

MGS: My favorite aspect of FLOST was your decision to turn it into a musical. There is something incongruous, funny and yet strangely poignant about baby-faced Benji lip-synching the songs of gravel-voiced Kevin Quain. What made you feel that this risky aesthetic choice would be right for this gritty story material?

JG: Musicals have always been a way for the poor and downtrodden to make light of the steaming pile that is their lives. The great work of Busby Berkeley during the 1930s, the British war musicals, the rock operas based on the music of The Who (Tommy and Quadrophenia) – all were seminal works for me as a child growing into this mania for cinema – and so with my dear friend Kevin Quain being gracious enough to let me raid his canon, it was a lovely way to show the fear, contempt, anger and love that is usually expressed through exposition. Fuck reality. This is cinema. We want a world that transports us away. To keep singing like a champ when we are hellbent and gutter bound.

MGS: I have a feeling that this film will go over well with the gay community. Benji is a character of ambiguous sexuality with self-confessed “daddy issues” and your camera seems to show more appreciation for the male body than the female body in the way that you shoot your actors. How did you and Graham Jenkins, who gives a fearless performance as Benji, approach the complex sexuality of this character?

JG: Benji is a twink. A flesh hammer of sorts for the gay crowd. He is eroticized as is every aspect of this film. I want to feel the fuck in this film – and you do. It’s sweaty and wet and smelly and heart-breaking at the same time. It’s the smell of bleach wiping down the sex club walls. Nostalgic and astringent at the same time. A razor blade in a dildo. The sort of work that demands you to participate and feel a little bit queasy afterwards. GJ is the next James Dean – and every gay man wants to fuck James Dean.

MGS: The stylized visuals are a real treat throughout the film even though you obviously had a limited budget and resources. One of my favorite scenes involves Benji putting on make-up before going to a club while what looks like found footage of old movies and TV shows is playing behind him. Where did that footage come from and how did you construct that scene?

JG: I’m a cinephile. Cut me and I bleed cinema. I draw from my extensive library of vintage materials (over 3000 hours) and sources dear to me. I use the old to inform the new and like to reference materials and show the audiences my homage honestly. Fuck thievery like some filmmakers who blatantly copy old pictures and call it their own. I stand up and show you the reel thing.

MGS: Following the world premiere at CIFF, what distribution plans do you have for FLOST? What is next up for you as a filmmaker?

JG: FLOST does the festival circuit for 18 months and plays wherever anyone has a sense of humor and an airline ticket for me and a place to stay. I’ll sell it directly, take a big check if offered or give it away on the web as a 16 part web series. The old model of distribution is dead – but that doesn’t mean I won’t roll over if someone is silly enough to offer me real money up front. Not stupid money – just enough to pay back costs and give cast and crew something for Xmas.

I’m shooting Sweet Leaf in Oct – Dec in the Chicagoland area and then moving onto another feature I’ve just been offered to direct for Summer 2013. I’ve got an animation series currently in negotiation in LA and lots and lots and lots of other ideas for anyone looking to get onboard the crazy train. Sweet Leaf is another Neo-Noir bad boy (and girl) fist in the face and I hope that fans of FLOST will dig it.

You can view the trailer for FLOST here:

You can purchase tickets for the world premiere of FLOST at CIFF here.

You can learn more about Julian Grant on his official website.


Let’s Talk About Poetic Realism

Adrian Nambo, a former student of mine from Harold Washington College, asked to interview me on the topic of Poetic Realism for a paper he recently wrote for another class. Because our interview nicely coincided with my "Classic French Cinema" posts from last week, I thought I would post our interview here today as a kind of postscript.

AN: There isn’t really much said about Poetic Realism on Wikipedia (which is a horrible way to look things up anyway), but can you elaborate a little more on it?

MGS: Poetic Realism was a movement that existed in France in the early sound era. To paraphrase Bob Dylan, it is a movement that is easy to look at but hard to define. This is because the conventions aren’t as clear cut as those of, say, German Expressionism or Soviet Montage. Nonetheless, I would define the basic characteristics of Poetic Realism as a focus on working class characters and the theme of doomed love, the blending of comedy and tragedy, the use of long shots and long takes, and narratives that function as critiques of society.

AN: French Impressionism is an influence of Poetic Realism correct? What influences did it have on the movement (i.e. what techniques, stylizations, and subject matter did it contribute to Poetic Realism)?

MGS: Both Impressionism and Surrealism, which were avant-garde movements in France during the silent era, were big influences on Poetic Realism. Impressionism used stylized cinematography, optical effects and editing to render reality as it is subjectively perceived by the individual. Directors like Germaine Dulac, Jean Epstein and Dmitri Kirsanoff would use superimpositions and slow dissolves, or would shoot the reflection of a subject in a distorting mirror, in an attempt to show the inner lives of their characters. Surrealism, as in the early films of Luis Bunuel, was all about the aggressive use of bizarre, dreamlike imagery to subvert the conventions of Hollywood-style “narrative continuity” filmmaking.

The phrase “poetic realism” is kind of an oxymoron because we think of poetry as being the opposite of realism. That is to say, poetry uses the figurative language of metaphor to communicate thoughts and feelings that can’t be expressed in a straightforward way. Conversely, when we think of something as being “realistic,” we tend to think of something that is being communicated simply and directly. So the movement of Poetic Realism basically synthesizes these two different approaches. It takes the poetic innovations that we associate with Impressionism and Surrealism and then weds them to the more realistic style of narrative continuity filmmaking. To give you a concrete example of what I mean, Jean Vigo’s masterpiece L’atalante tells the story of the tribulations of a newlywed couple who spend their honeymoon on a barge delivering cargo along the Seine River. The film was shot entirely on location (with a lot of shots done on a real barge) and the milieu depicted is that of working class people. So there is an impressive quality of documentary-like realism to the film. But then there are also these very poetic interludes like the scene where the husband jumps into the river and sees his wife’s image superimposed all around him as he swims underwater. This incredibly poetic scene makes us identify with the husband’s emotions and Vigo does it purely through images.

AN: Some major figures were Pierre Chenal, Marcel Carne, Jacques Feyder and Jean Gremillion. Can you tell me a little bit more about them and their work?

MGS: Marcel Carne is the major director out of the ones you mentioned. He made these great atmospheric crime films in the late 30s like Port of Shadows and Le Jour se Leve (both of which star Jean Gabin). I’ve often said that the reason why the French film critics were the first to identify the new trend of “film noir” in America in the 40s is because they had already kind of done something similar a few years earlier. Carne’s masterpiece though is Children of Paradise from 1945. A lot of critics consider it the apotheosis of Poetic Realism and it’s a movie that everyone needs to see. It’s an epic tale of doomed love set in the world of the 19th century Parisian theater. It was made during the Nazi Occupation and there are all sorts of subversive aspects to the film where the Occupation is being criticized in an oblique, allegorical way. It’s sometimes called the French Gone with the Wind but I think that does it a disservice. It’s a better film than Gone with the Wind! Thankfully, it has just been re-released in theaters this year in a brand new restoration, which will also be released soon on DVD and blu-ray. You can read all about that here: http://criterioncast.com/2012/02/27/janus-films-to-tour-new-4k-restoration-of-marcel-carnes-children-of-paradise/

I don’t think that Chenal, Gremillon or Feyder are very important directors. They belong more to the “tradition of quality” that was much derided by a future generation of French film critics. To me, the other great directors of Poetic Realism are Jean Vigo (as I mentioned), Julien Duvivier, whose masterpiece is Pepe le Moko from 1937, and, of course, Jean Renoir.

AN: I know Jean Renoir is one of your preferred directors, can you tell me about him and his films?

MGS: Renoir is one of the greatest directors of all time. The films he made in the 1930s are just indescribably great: Boudu Saved From Drowning, La Chienne (which translates as “The Bitch”), The Crime of Monsieur Lange, La Bete Humaine and his two supreme masterpieces, Grand Illusion and The Rules of the Game. As I wrote about those last two films elsewhere on my blog, “Renoir showed, allegorically but with great generosity of spirit, a Europe that was tragically and inexorably heading towards World War II. His use of long shots and long takes, abetted by an elegantly gliding camera, allow viewers to observe his characters from a critical distance even while the folly of their behavior makes them intensely relatable on a human scale.” He never judges his characters. They’re all flawed and they’re all likable. The Rules of the Game is like a Shakespeare play; it captures timeless truths about the workings of the human heart. I think it will be appreciated as long as movies are watched.

AN: In your class you had said that Jean Renoir is still seen as a Major Figure in film history, what influence has he had on films that filmmakers look back on?

MGS: Well, he’s one of those people whose influence is so pervasive that it’s almost invisible. But, for starters, Orson Welles was very much influenced by Renoir. A lot of the pioneering deep focus cinematography that Welles did in Citizen Kane was inspired by a similar use of depth staging that he saw in The Rules of the Game. And I think the depiction of war in Grand Illusion, in particular the blending of comedy and tragedy to highlight the absurdity of war, was a big influence on all subsequent war movies. Finally, I would just like to say that the adjective “humane” is the one that seems to be applied to Renoir more than any other and I think this is very apt. There are a lot of French movies, even today, that deal with extended families getting together for holidays or weekend-long parties that have this same quality and they seem to me to have their roots very much in The Rules of the Game. See for instance Olivier Assayas’ Summer Hours or Arnaud Desplechin’s A Christmas Tale.

AN: What three films if you can name three, from this period do you think best represent the movement and why?

MGS: L’atalante (1934), The Rules of the Game (1939) and Children of Paradise (1945), for the reasons already cited above.

AN: What are your favorite characteristics and or techniques of this movement and why?

MGS: I love Renoir’s use of long takes and long shots. These are the “mise-en-scene” aesthetics that were famously championed by the critic Andre Bazin. Bazin thought that this style was the opposite of Soviet Montage, where the preference for rapid cutting was more conducive to propaganda and telling viewers what to think. Renoir has a lot going on in the foreground, middle-ground and background of his shots and, because he tends to hold his shots for a while without cutting, it gives viewers the freedom to kind of focus on whatever they want to. For instance, you can choose to look at a character in the foreground or one in the background. It’s like you’re “editing” the film yourself in your mind while watching it. This quality makes his films endlessly re-watchable for me.

AN: How did this movement influence Italian Neorealism and the French New Wave?

MGS: I think the focus on working class characters and the use of plots that revolve around social problems make Poetic Realism an influence on Italian Neorealism. (The key difference though is that the cinematography in Poetic Realism tends to be far more polished than the rawness of what you see in Neorealism.) The French New Wave was more obviously influenced by Poetic Realism. Remember that the directors of the New Wave started off as film critics and so they basically hero-worshipped the likes of Vigo and Renoir and explicitly quoted their films. (Truffaut’s 400 Blows, for instance, would be unthinkable without Vigo’s Zero de Conduite.) I would say that the New Wave directors were most influenced by how intensely cinematic and alive and personal the films of Poetic Realism are.

AN: Can you summarize real quick what Italian Neorealism and the French New Wave are if you haven’t already?

MGS: Italian Neorealism was a movement in post-war Italy where directors attempted to make films that were far more realistic, in terms of form and content, than what had ever been achieved before. The French New Wave was a movement of critics-turned-directors in France in the late 50s and early 60s who used filmmaking as a means of celebrating and critiquing the cinema itself. (That’s a bit reductive and simplistic but you said to “summarize real quick!”)

AN: Can characteristics of this movement be seen in film today? If so can you name a couple of modern films to reference from after that time period.

MGS: There isn’t much around today that looks like Poetic Realism. But, in addition to the French films I already cited above, I think that American directors as diverse as Alexander Payne (Sideways, The Descendants) and Charles Burnett (Killer of Sheep, To Sleep With Anger) have been specifically influenced by Jean Renoir.

AN: Is there anything you would like to add that I may have forgotten to ask or mention?

MGS: See the restored Children of Paradise as soon as you have the chance. You will thank me for it.


Film Festival Director Interview: Clayton Monical

After receiving a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Digital Media Production from the Illinois Institute of Art, Clayton Monical co-founded the Peace On Earth Film Festival, whose unique mission statement is to raise awareness of peace, non-violence, social justice and an eco-balanced world. He has served as a director and member of its review committee ever since, while simultaneously working virtually every production job imaginable in Chicago’s indie film scene. (Full disclosure: he also produced my last two short films.) The 5th Annual Peace On Earth Film Festival will take place in the historic Chicago Cultural Center’s Claudia Cassidy Theater, from Thursday, February 23 through Sunday, February 26. You can learn more about the festival and view the 2012 line-up here: http://peaceonearthfilmfestival.org

I recently spoke with Clayton about POEFF and independent film production in Chicago.

MGS: You wear many hats in the Chicago film scene. What initially attracted you to the movies as a medium?

CM: That is actually a funny story. I was never a kid to watch movies and study them, I was actually fascinated with animation as a kid. I originally went to college wholeheartedly with the passion to become an animator. I was in my second year of college when I took an Intro to Digital Media Production course. Our main project for this course was to create a short film. I was lucky enough to work with a couple really talented animators who also liked film; this is what got my interest. We did a 14 minute short film (our project was supposed to be 3 minutes) and after that I switched my degree and never looked back, and loved it ever since.

MGS: How does one go about founding a film festival? Were you intimidated at all by the fact that Chicago already plays host to many annual film festivals?

CM: Well, in all honesty it was not my brainchild, it was Nick Angotti’s (the Exec-Director of the festival) I was brought on in the early stages by one of the original co-founding member Brad LaMar whose films I had produced in the past. Nick was seeking to start a festival but did not have a set path in the production industry in the city; he was an actor but had little experience with film festivals. Brad and I have had several projects that had been and were in the festival circuit, so we felt that we could be key assets in co-founding and co-running the festival. As for the intimidation factor, well I guess it never came up. When we sat down and talked about POEFF it was something that was needed in Chicago. We started the festival in 2007, with the first festival debuting in 2008, when the violence in the city was at its highest, murder and crime was really bad that year. So since our message was different than most festivals in the city we felt there was a need and we were ready to take the hurdles that came with the project. I feel a big aspect for me was to give filmmakers, who pour their heart and souls into a project that is not mainstream or “Hollywood,” a venue to show their work. Our festival focuses on peace, non-violence, along with social justice and eco-balanced issues.

MGS: What exactly does your job entail? Walk me through a typical day in the life of a film festival director/review committee member.

CM: I run into people thinking that we just run the festival that weekend. There are actually mountains of work that go into the festival. Thankfully as the years go by we have been able bring people on with the same passion as the original members that alleviate the workload a bit. A normal day for me differs, but mostly what you can find me doing is: watching films, discussing marketing tactics, meeting with our PR company, meeting with Nick Angotti (Exec-Director) and Melissa Pacelli (Co-Founder/Director) on the day to day issues that arise with anything from brand messaging in our poster designs and venue issues to what things should we raffle off during the festival. Nick, Melissa and I are all in agreement with things so almost everything goes through us. So really my day to day differs but one thing is for sure, it will be a busy one.

MGS: Every time I hear back from a film festival, they always say that they’ve received a “record number of submissions.” How much has POEFF grown over the past five years and how has it been affected by the digital revolution in terms of production, distribution and exhibition?

CM: The big thing that has grown with the festival, other than the film submission, which is at a “record number of submissions” (we received upwards of 150 films this year), is our Community Outreach Programs that Nick and Melissa work on. Although I am not a huge part of this aspect of the festival the work they are doing is too important not to bring up. We have a POEFF program to go into schools and do a seminar or class where we show films from the festival and open a discussion with students about peace and how to bring it back into their communities. It has been a great project and a huge part of the growing success of our festival. We do have a Thursday/Friday morning program during festival where schools come to the Chicago Cultural Center and participate in watching the films and we have an open discussion with the students about the films they just saw. Along with that being a huge growing part of the festival, I would have to say the people that have been coming to the festival is growing every year by large numbers. For instance our first year in 2008 we probably sat 250 people all weekend, now we probably sit 350 a day at the festival, which is a great sign that our festival is here to stay and people know it’s a good community project.

MGS: Do you see any correlations between your jobs as independent film producer and film festival director? How does your thorough knowledge of the in-and-outs of the production process benefit the festival?

CM: I do everyday; I don’t think I would be as successful as a POEFF Director without my years of producing films. Everyday I have to think on my toes especially during the festival, keeping things on track and making sure everything is flowing smoothly. Which, as you personally know, correlates nicely to making sure you keep on budget and schedule while doing producing/production management. A live event like the festival is not too far off from doing film. I also think I would not be such a successful producer without the festival.

MGS: I’ll be offering extra credits to any of my students who attend POEFF. Most of them will be young people who have never attended a film festival. How would you recommend they go about choosing a particular film or program from this year’s line-up?

CM: Well since I am kind of biased I would say attend all weekend but, generally we have some really good films Friday and Saturday night. I cannot say what films are the best to see, as each viewer takes something different from the festival. My best suggestion would be check out http://www.poeff.org and look over our films that are listed for this year, all have descriptions and will give you an estimated time it will be shown, find one that will be interesting to the viewer and check it out. We always have a give away for people that come and either “check-in” or “like” us on Facebook. So make sure you check the on screen ads at the festival for the details.

Clayton Monical on the set of The Catastrophe:


Filmmaker Interview: Matt Glasson and Bowls MacLean

This month will see the Chicago premiere of Love Stalker, a terrific micro-budget indie comedy from Columbia College alums Matt “Mugs” Glasson and Brian “Bowls” MacLean. Love Stalker explores the dark side of the romantic comedy genre by telling the story of Pete (co-writer/director Glasson), a thirty-something player who gets a taste of his own medicine when he falls for and is subsequently dumped by Stephanie (Rachel Chapman, a real find), a beautiful relationship advice columnist. Made in St. Louis, the evocative locations of which practically function as another character, this was very stylishly shot on the Canon 5D Mark II, proving yet again that a big (or even medium) budget isn’t necessary to make a winning feature when you’ve got enough filmmaking smarts.

I recently spoke with Glasson and MacLean about the film.

MGS: In a lot of ways Love Stalker is a conventional romantic comedy scenario. And yet you bring a clever self-awareness to the project by having the characters refer to “rom-com” conventions and you even use the tagline “An Unromantic Comedy.” To what extent did you want to honor the conventions of this genre and to what extent did you try to subvert them?

MUG: I think you kind of hit the answer in the wording of your question: we wanted to honor the conventions and hallmarks of the traditional rom-com so that we could later subvert them when the film takes a darker turn. On the other hand, we didn’t want to draw too much attention to the meta aspect of doing a self-knowing take on a familiar genre. Originally, we had a whole monologue early on from one of the characters talking about how he hates rom-coms and then goes on to deconstruct all the familiar tropes of the genre which basically set up the story for the rest of the film. But it felt a little too precious that early on in the film, so we cut it but it actually ended up in the trailer, as did a few other rom-com genre specific references such as our hero standing in the rain outside of his lost love’s window at night.

BBX: More subvert than to honor. I was an 80′s cable kid and became infatuated with feature length movies as a child. Teen and romance and sex comedies flourished throughout that decade; however, we didn’t want this movie to be too predictable, but we did want to give it the edge of a 70′s movie. Love Stalker‘s very derivative of these types of influences. We had no interest in making another movie where the guy ends up with the girl at the and we didn’t count on it being played in any shopping malls, so we figured it would be best to take some chances on the content. It’s great when people tell me how “creepy” it gets in the second half. Being so behind the scenes, I almost see the whole movie as a comedy. We sure had a lot of fun making it.

MGS: Were there any particular movies that influenced you or were you just trying to make a movie that was the opposite of the kind of movies you don’t like?

MUG: I think both. Our plot was clearly lifted by some rom-coms out there and we worked in a lot of subtle nods to classic rom-coms, not all of which I think are terrible but let’s just say I prefer a grittier edge to my cinema. I’d say the film that probably influenced us the most when we were first discussing it was Autofocus by Paul Schrader. While the stories are fairly different, the two protagonists in each film follows a similar arc, and I think stylistically we took a number of cues from that film when things begin to jump off the rails for Pete.

BBX: There’s Always Vanilla by George Romero.

MGS: Your film began life as a musical short made during a 48 Hour Film Project. How did it evolve from that into a feature?

MUG: Bowls and I finished the 48-Hour Film project Love Stalker in June of 2009 and it ended up winning an award for “Best Actor” and getting nominated for “Best of St. Louis.” We turned to each other afterwards and said, “There’s something here, let’s try to figure out a way to make a feature like this.” We both had a lot of ideas for features that we tossed back and forth, but nothing really stuck until we started discussing the possibility of doing Love Stalker as a feature film, and what that would look like. We tossed out the premise of the short and started planting seeds for what ultimately became the story in the movie. They say, “write what you know” and we both collectively had a lot of stories from both sides of the equation (in this case, love and stalking!). It took us about a year to prep the script and get it into production.

BBX: The experience of the 48-Hour Film Project definitely gave us both a hunger for more. We bounced a few around but kept coming back to Love Stalker. Back in the late 90′s, I remember an Onion article titled something like “Man Arrested for Romanic Comedy-Like Behavior.” I always thought that premise would be a good movie. I guess I got tired of Hollywood “not getting around to making it” so we did it ourselves. Matt had the brilliant idea of making the girl a relationship blogger. We based the character of Pete on a hodge-podge of different people we have known. Once the concept was in play, a lot of it came together fairly well. Matt and I bounce dialogue off of one another very well together.

MGS: It’s unusual for more than one person to direct a movie. How exactly did you split up the directorial duties between the two of you?

BBX: It’s not so unusual in that a film usually requires a lot of collaboration. Matt and I are already very like-minded. I can imagine it’s very difficult for actors to direct themselves without someone they absolutely trust making the decisions on their performances. Matt and I had co-directed, as a matter of fact, within the first weeks of meeting each other in film school for a class exercise. It’s not unusual to us at this point.

MUG: Once we had established that I was going to be acting in the film, I knew that I was going to need some buffer between me, the actor, and me, the guy working with the other cast and crew. So we tried to make it a pretty even split in terms of sharing the producing and directing chores between the two of us whenever possible. As far as how that worked on set: we would typically work as a “tag-team” where I’d be talking to the DP while Bowls would be talking to the other actor in the scene and vica-versa. We had a bit of a scrappy approach on some days as we would figure some stuff out on the spot (such as blocking, re-working dialogue, camera, etc.) but we’re pretty comfortable with making these types of decisions on the fly. It’s kind of like operating the two different sides of one brain to make sure everything gets tended to and done correctly.

MGS: The tone of the film, and correspondingly the visual style, change quite dramatically halfway through the movie. What strategies did you implement, whether cinematographically or in post-production, to achieve these different looks?

MUG: I’m glad you mentioned that because we put a lot of thought into trying to visually “shake up” the world that this character inhabits once things take that crucial dark turn. Our strategy was to establish certain rules depending on the stage of the story: in the beginning, the camera is primarily locked down on a tripod that rarely moves or even pans. Then as the core romance begins to blossom, the camera begins to rove around more and it takes on a more fluid and light touch; the skin tones get warmer and the image gets super saturated. And then in the third act, the camerawork is always handheld and more manic in nature. Here, the contrast in the image gets greater: highlights get blown out and the darker areas of the frame get slightly crushed. We de-beautified some of the images that we shot to make them “ugly.”

BBX: Those cameras shoot beautifully. However at times it can be just a little “too” crisp. I like it to match the warmth of film as much as possible.

MGS: Another strategy I loved was how the early sex scenes were made to look cartoonish and ridiculous, which makes it doubly effective when Pete and Stephanie get together and you stage their intimate scenes in a more naturalistic fashion. You must have had a lot of fun shooting those scenes. Are there any interesting anecdotes you can share?

BBX: I wish there were more. Everyone was on board to make the same film in that sense. Laura Baron and Ashleigh (Gill) were both extremely professional. Still, I got very ‘Kubrick’ on those particular shooting days with my excessive takes. Better to have too much than too little. It turned out to be a wise move as we lost a handful of shots during the transfer on one of those days. That’s where digital can bite you in the ass. We used someone else’s card reader and ended up losing takes of Jen 2 as well as “Little Stevie.” Fortunately, enough made it over in the transfer to save the edit.

MUG: People often talk about how terribly awkward it is to shoot sex scenes or how boring it is. I think Bowls loved every minute of production on those days. Suddenly, there was a spring to his step and an edge in the authority of his voice when he would say, “No, guys… we definitely need to do another take of that!” For me, it was kind of surreal because I had to balance the relationship I had established with the crew and the one I had established with my fellow actors in those scenes, so I had to be very sensitive to what people were comfortable with while also recognizing what we had to do to get what we wanted for the film. I don’t tend to be a bashful person and I’m very comfortable in my own skin, but I definitely reached a point where I was getting very tired of having to walk around in my leopard print banana hammocks and try to seriously work with people on the set. I think it’s safe to say that some of the crew had a hard time taking me seriously and who could blame them? Ironically, I think the hottest sex scene in the film (between myself and co-star Rachel Chapman) was probably the most difficult to shoot for a variety of reasons. What comes off (on camera) is far from what the mood was like on set that day. But everyone was super professional about it and at the end of the day, we always got what we needed to make the finished film.

MGS: I had the pleasure of reading the script before you shot the movie, which differs quite a bit from the finished product. What happened to the subplot about Pete hiring the indie rocker to serenade Stephanie?

BBX: Ha! Everyone asks about the musician scene. My date to one of the earlier screenings had read an earlier draft and asked me on the way there “Hey, who played the indie musician?” “Yeah, about that musician scene…” I had to break it to her while we were in the car. There was also a funny scene where Pete cons the building manager into letting him look around her apartment. We both liked the scene a lot, and honestly if we’d had the time and budget probably would have shot it. Too bad, it would have made a great bonus feature to add to the pile.

MUG: Some of our friends who had read the earlier draft of the script seemed to really enjoy that particular subplot. Pete, in his desperation to prove that he’s a romantic, hires an indie folk singer named John Dill to serenade Stephanie and, of course, the scenario ends up backfiring terribly on Pete. I think before we started shooting, the concern was that it took a little too long to set up and that the payoff wasn’t as satisfying as it needed to be. Also, some of those scenes showed Stephanie reacting to Pete’s romantic efforts in her private time, so we decided would be more effective if we didn’t see her at all since everything is kind of wrapped up in Pete’s mind at that point. It’s similar to when Betsy (Cybil Shepard) dumps Travis Bickle (Robert DeNiro) in Taxi Driver: we never know exactly what her character is thinking as he tries in vain to win back her affection. Sometimes, it’s more powerful to not lay out all your cards on the table.

MGS: The legendary Billy “Silver Dollar” Baxter, who helped produce Love and Anarchy and Dawn of the Dead, is credited as Executive Producer. How did he come on board the project?

MUG: I met Billy Baxter through his son, Jack Baxter, who brought me in to edit a trailer for his film, A Diary of the Cannes Film Festival (1980). Billy and I got along right away and he was happy with the work I did on the trailer. For whatever reason, he took a liking to me. It was probably because I was in awe of his poster collection (he had an original King Kong hung in his bathroom), and I enjoyed his stories (some of which he told repeatedly) about all the people he knew from the golden era of cinema. His involvement in George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead was something that Bowls and I were both really blown away by. When we were getting ready to make Love Stalker, Billy asked me to keep him “in the loop” and so I got him an early cut of the film. And he must have really liked it because a month later, he asked if he could be involved by lending his name to the project. Sadly, Silver Dollar Baxter just died at the end of January. The last thing we had worked out was doing the double-feature of Love and Anarchy and Love Stalker for our Chicago premiere. He liked the idea and I’m sorry he won’t get to see it happen. Fortunately, his son Jack is gonna fly into town and introduce the film and talk about his father’s life and career. We’re gonna do our best to keep his legacy alive.

BBX: That was a connection of Matt’s from New York. Jack Baxter on set was one of my favorite days of the shoot. I’m very proud to have that name on our poster. His blessing of the project is very endearing to me.

MGS: Love Stalker was shot digitally and the last shot in the opening title sequence is of a closed movie theater. Did you intend this to be a comment on the death of cinema?

BBX: Ha, no. The meaning of that shot is “closed movie theater.” Well, it’s certainly a theater that was around in my youth – I saw The Doors movie there. It was just too irresistible to not stick that in somewhere. When you see buildings like that, it’s best to shoot them while you’ve got ‘em. Those places will go down. Less than a week ago, that entire building was torn down. Out of nowhere the paper announced it’s demolition and it was GONE within a week. I tried to take pictures and document the process, but I worked the entire week and they were too fast for me. So I guess cinema is officially dead. (Also, there is a fair amount of digital augmentation to that shot – we removed a realty sign and added some marquee to it.)

MUG: There are many areas of St. Louis that are in a state of decay or disarray. Our buddy Bill Streeter premiered his doc Brick by Chance and Fortune alongside our movie in this year’s St. Louis International Film Festival – it’s about the history of bricks in St. Louis, and eventually it gets into how people are now pillaging the older abandoned houses to steal the quality bricks for new construction projects. I think we wanted to drop those types of visual details in our movie whenever possible to really embrace the city of St. Louis as a sort of character unto itself and to underscore what’s happening with Pete at this particular time in his life. To your point, I love old movie theaters and it makes me sad when I see them shuttered. Pete’s drive by the Avalon theater was one of the last things we shot but it’s no accident that it is placed where it is in the title sequence.

MGS: I’m sorry but I have to ask this: when Pete and “Jen Two” are in bed and her son walks in the room . . . was that kid really in the same shot with the adult actors or was there some digitally trickery involved?

BBX: It was an analog little boy.

MUG: No comment.

Love Stalker Rating: 6.7

The Chicago Love Stalker premiere, playing as a double feature with Lina Wertmuller’s Love and Anarchy, will take place at the Portage Theater on Friday, February 17th at 8pm with Glasson and MacLean in attendance. For more info about the film and the screening, visit the Official Love Stalker Website.


Filmmaker Interview: Jonathan Hourigan, pt. 2

This is the second part of my interview with filmmaker and teacher Jonathan Hourigan who worked as an assistant on Robert Bresson’s L’argent. Part one was published earlier this week.

MGS: How has Bresson impacted you specifically as a writer/director? What lessons did you learn from watching him work that you were able to apply to your own filmmaking endeavors?

JH: These are difficult questions. By the time I arrived in Paris in the summer of 1982 I had seen all of the films and had read Notes on the Cinematographer several times. I was aware that Bresson was unlike other filmmakers but as I said earlier, being involved in L’argent was my first experience of the film industry, so I had no context in which to assess the experience. In addition to which, on arrival in Paris I spoke virtually no French. The crew, French and Italians (in a year when the Italians won the football World Cup), were generally very kind to me. And Bresson, in particular, spoke to me often, invariably in fluent English and he was always courteous and solicitous about my well-being, even as he worked to the limit on his film. He also had a very keen sense of humour. And as my French improved, I was increasingly given little jobs to do on set. I would also often travel in Bresson’s car to watch rushes in the evening.

So, to address your second question first, I did have the privilege of watching Bresson and his crew work at very close quarters. It’s hard to say what specific lessons I learned. Or rather, what specific lessons I was aware of having learned at that time. I was certainly immersed in the experience but I think I’m both a late starter and a slow learner – not a great combination – and I’m not sure that I derived specific lessons that I could have articulated at that time. My own first film, Jade, made a few years later, was indebted – too much so, in truth – to the surface of Bresson’s style but entirely missed any deeper correlations. I sent it to Bresson and when we next met I think he described it, with affection, as a “sweet comedy.” Suffice it to say, that had not been my intention!

Now, almost 30 years on, the impact and lessons are perhaps a little clearer.

At one level, that making films is complex and challenging and remains so today, even as technological advances have made the technical processes simpler, more accessible and cheaper. That one has to be committed, precise and demanding, principally, of oneself, although without being precious or lacking humour. That one needs to discover one’s authentic territory and to dig deep; an argument for depth rather than breadth, perhaps. Also, Bresson constantly reminds us, through his work and in Notes on the Cinematographer, of the huge possibilities that still remain largely dormant in this extraordinary medium that he had so thoroughly mastered.

Another lesson one might take from Bresson is to learn from other arts and artists; Notes on the Cinematographer is full of references and allusions to painting, music and literature, as well as to philosophy and history. It’s also worth pointing out that Bresson was by no means dismissive of theatre, simply of its spurious dominance of Cinema which, as filmed theatre, had lost both the defining immediacy and expressiveness of theatre and any aesthetic autonomy.

At another level, to attend to the entirety of an image, not in order to make it ‘painterly’ or self-consciously beautiful but to ensure that it is appropriate to one’s purposes. And similarly, to attend to the relationship between sound and image, about which Bresson was always so attentive and skillful. Indeed, from Bresson one might learn the necessity for attentiveness and commitment throughout the process. There is, after all, such a high risk of dissipation when making a film because of both the involvement of other interests and individuals and the extended and complex nature of film production. And alongside this sharp, disciplined creative focus, one might also learn humility and the necessity to live life well.

MGS: You told me that you continue to work on preserving Bresson’s legacy? What exactly does this entail?

JH: In the years since Bresson’s death in 1999 there has, I think, been an encouraging and gratifying upsurge of interest in Bresson’s films. This has coincided with the emergence of both the internet and digital technologies, ensuring the greater availability of material and information. I have simply assisted Madame Bresson in responding to interest and enquiries and in keeping an eye on what is placed in the public domain in relation to her late husband and his oeuvre, especially in the English language.

There have also been various retrospectives and for example, I was very pleased to be invited to speak about L’argent during the BFI’s most recent Bresson retrospective. It’s also been a great pleasure to meet – either electronically or in person – so many people interested in Bresson’s films, yourself included, of course, Michael.

MGS: I will be offering extra credit to my students if they attend any of the films in the upcoming Bresson retrospective here in Chicago. Is there a single movie you would recommend for young people to see to introduce them to Robert Bresson? Is there any advice you would give in terms of what to look out for or what to take away from the experience?

JH: Can I hedge my bets? I’m not, by inclination, prescriptive.

So, first, I think it would be hard for your students to go wrong if they followed my own path and saw Au Hasard Balthazar as an introduction. It’s lyrical, beautiful and also demanding. The film sits at the centre of Bresson’s oeuvre and also close to the fulcrum of the debate – involving Schrader and others – as to the pinnacle and trajectory of Bresson’s career.

On the other hand, L’argent, his final film, seems to me to be Bresson’s late, great masterpiece and perhaps the summation of his oeuvre. But equally, one cannot overlook Pickpocket, in many ways the quintessential Bresson film. Meanwhile, Un condamné à mort s’est échappé, whilst giving away its outcome in the title, is perhaps Bresson’s most conventionally exciting and accessible film – which is not to damn it with faint praise because it more than holds its own amongst Bresson’s films. I’ve already expressed my own deep and abiding affection for Une Femme Douce, Bresson’s first film in colour and to some extent a ‘lost film’ as it’s still not available on DVD, whilst both Lancelot du Lac and Les anges du péché, the latter being his feature film debut, might also offer wonderful introductions to the oeuvre.

I will, finally, briefly make a case for Le Diable Probablement, Bresson’s prescient penultimate film, sometimes overlooked and certainly grueling and demanding though it is. It occurs to me that, with young people today ever more sensitive to ecological issues, this might be a great film for your students to rediscover and as such, an interesting place to start.

Now that I’ve mentioned so many of the films, from what is anyway a fairly slender oeuvre, it might seem as though I’m rather damning the remaining films. That’s certainly not my intention. What can I say? It would certainly be great if, between them, your students collectively managed to see all of the films.

OK, gun to my head – just one film? L’argent.

And to look out for, or to take away?

Well, this may be a little pedagogically unsound but I wouldn’t ‘look out’ for anything first time around. Simply experience. And to ‘take away’? Whatever immediate feelings one has from experiencing these films. Nothing intellectual. Simply experiential and emotional. Bresson is so sui generis that it’s almost impossible for an attentive viewer not to struck by some unique aspect of the films.

A more structured engagement with the films might commence with subsequent viewings and the great thing about Bresson’s films is that they certainly repay multiple viewings. And then one might begin to think about, amongst many other issues, Bresson’s extraordinary use of sound, the ubiquity of doors, the nature of Bresson’s ‘models’, the preponderance of narratives drawn from existing sources as opposed to original material, or the ways in which such powerful and authentic emotion is provoked within and by these apparently austere films.

Bresson and the films are sometimes characterised as austere, or studied. By contrast, I would argue that they – Bresson, his working methods and the films – are passionate, emotional, truthful at some deep level and full of spontaneity and inspiration. And in any study of Bresson’s films – and as I’ve already mentioned above – I would also strongly recommend a careful reading of Bresson’s Notes on the Cinematographer. It is a little difficult to get hold of now but it is a brilliant summation of Bresson’s hopes, intentions and working methods. It illuminates, I think, why Bresson is considered to be one of the greatest filmmakers of the twentieth century – perhaps the single greatest – and why he has been such an influence on and inspiration to so many other major filmmakers.

For those of you about to encounter Bresson and his films for the first time, I am more than just a little jealous. I am certain that it will be memorable. I hope it will also be an inspiring and transformative experience.


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 755 other followers

%d bloggers like this: