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John Cameron Mitchell: "A viewer can look at the Da Vinci Code and be aroused."


John Cameron Mitchell explores sex and relationships in post-9/11 New York in Shortbus.
Cannes, May 2006


Briefly, what impact did your last film, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, have on your career? Did you get offers from Hollywood as a result?

“I did get offers from Hollywood and stuff and they all felt weird. I know how people get fucked up in Hollywood, and I was old enough not to get seduced by the money or anything. I have my rent-controlled apartment in New York and I don’t have to pay a mortgage, so I decided to wait it out and work on stuff that was more personal.”

Some of the bigger distributors were initially considering picking up Shortbus. Did that surprise you, and do you think people want to make a statement with the film?


"I think there are people in all companies that aren’t necessarily happy with Rupert Murdoch or whoever’s in charge, and they try to stick it in. But it’s kind of fantastic that some of the larger ones were considering it, because it would be nice to actually get a little dialogue going in the press and stuff about the nature of sex in film and how it differs from pornography. I want to be a little bit provocative with this, obviously.”

How does sex in film differ from pronography?

“Pornography, to me, is pretty much defined as something whose priority is to arouse. You could define it by the intent of the maker or the intent of the viewer. A viewer can look at the Da Vinci Code and be aroused! Anyone can be aroused by that bottle there. But, in our view, we weren’t necessarily making anything erotic – and I haven’t heard of anybody who’s got a hard-on from watching this film. Therefore I wouldn’t say it had any pornographic value.”

I think one of the differences is like what one of your characters says, they “own” the experience, whereas in pornography it’s the viewer who owns it.


"There’s a lot of projection from the viewer, yeah. I actually like porn, once in a while. I think the porn business is weirdly polarised the way that interesting, smaller films are from Hollywood, like rich and poor. There’s huge blockbusters that feel like they want to be Oscar-nominated movies and then there’s a lot of small movies that are really individual, and there isn’t really very much in between. Porn is the same way. There’s like the factory, formula porn, where everyone has sex in the same order in the same video in the same bodies with the same music, and then there’s this very amateur stuff that comes out too. So it’s interesting how economically porn parallels Hollywood. There’s not much difference in Hollywood to porn.”

In the press kit you say that watching two actors having sex tells us a lot about their childhood and what they ate during the day. Can you develop this idea?

“I think that sex is kind of like reading your palm, it tells you something about your life. For example, for some reason a lot of people in charge, like politicians and stuff, like to be very submissive in sex. So I might make some extrapolations about someone from having sex. If I see two people who are very much having a conversation in sex, I can maybe tell there’s a certain sensitivity going on and maybe there was a certain healthy childhood. If there’s something a little more violent, maybe there was something violent in their childhood. I feel like it’s a metaphoric language that can be used more comprehensively than it has been. Certainly a lot of films have been using sex lately and they’ve tended to be very harsh, in my view, and a little kind of negative. I just think it’s pretty funny.

“I love, for example, some of Catherine Breillat’s films. They’re dark. Fat Girl is terrifying. It’s fantastic! 9 Songs has its own structure, it’s very different from Brown Bunny or Ken Park or Battle in Heaven. Not that our sex is really good sex. Everyone is trying really hard, but it’s maybe more ridiculous. It’s like people are trying too hard. But they’re also having fun sometimes, too, like in the national anthem scene. So there are other aspects to sex that I hope people will take of advantage of, because it’s just as varied as something like music. It really is a language that can be used in all kinds of ways.”

Can you develop a sort of psychological profile out of it?

“I don’t know. You tell me. The exposition of my characters is in that opening sequence, in the way that they have sex. The couple is acrobatic, running from one thing to another, ADD. They’re trying too hard. Something’s wrong. They’re jumping all over the place and it seems very strenuous. Is there something wrong in their relationship? Some people might intuit that. The other guy’s trying to get his dick in his mouth. It seems like too much hard work. I mean he’s trying so hard. Meanwhile, someone is talking about the orgasm being the most lonely place and that’s a wonderful thing. She’s saying I want procreate in the dark like a worm and we cut to him trying to get his dick in his mouth. He’s trying to self-fertilise or something. I don’t know. To me it’s like sex can be interpreted different ways character-wise, theme-wise. Another character’s whipping and not being very happy being a dominatrix. We’re getting to know her through the sex. That’s what I mean when I say it can be used in different ways.”

What was your mandate when you were casting? Obviously there are no “well known” stars in the film.

“Well try getting Jennifer Aniston to give a blow job! I don’t know if you would have any success. You know, I get really distracted, often, with certain kinds of stories when stars are in them. You can’t get past them. It’s like ‘Look, he’s doing a working-class guy. Isn’t he good at that?’ rather than just buying into the story right away. It feels like a stunt sometimes. Someone like Cassavetes, who would use a lot of the same people, and certainly Gena Rowlands was a star of a certain indie magnitude in the 70s, managed to get past that. You weren’t aware of, ‘Oh look, there’s Gena Rowlands. Isn’t it amazing she’s so different?’ You’re in the story. So we avoided stars. And, of course, sexually, American stars would have nothing to do with this. We also avoided professional actors, because they’re worried about getting a sitcom when they’re 45 and can’t do indie films anymore, or whatever their career goals are. So we had an open call. We just let people find out about us. We did a lot of articles in papers and had a website. People sent in audition tapes.”

So people knew from the beginning what was required?

“Oh yeah. And I knew that they should be co-creators. If they’re going to be this exposed, they should create their characters, they should name their characters, they should discuss what their characters’ goals are and have input in all sides. I would have the final say but I would never ask them to do something they didn’t want to do. For example, Paul [Dawson, who plays James], in our conversation, was like, ‘When I was a kid, I used to be able to suck my own dick.’ I was like, ‘That’s great. You know that’s kind of a fascinating image of a sort of feedback loop of somebody. It’s kind of funny, too.’ So we would think of it in those terms. I said, ‘How would you feel about introducing the character like that?’ and he was like ‘Wow, I guess I should practice to see if I can still do that.’ So that was how a scene would come about. So we cast the actors first and then came up with the stories through improv.”

Was there anything that you wanted somebody to do that they particularly wouldn’t?

“I really asked what their limits were as we went along. Like there was safety concerns and condoms, and this and that, testing, and everybody discussing all that kind of stuff. The women were a little more nervous about the sex beforehand. I think guys can approach sex and separate it from feelings a lot easier. It’s funny because when we finally got to the days of shooting, that’s when the guys freaked out, when they realised they had to keep it up. So our friend Viagra was on the craft service table. Sometimes they took it too early and it wore off, and they were flushed for the wrong scene.”

Did you want to make a comment about New York, the city being much more interesting and free 10 years ago and now it’s so clean, 42nd Street is not there anymore?

“Ten years ago, I guess it was before Giuliani, no-one really knows when they’re in a golden age, right till later. I’m sure right now people will look back on their youth and go, ‘2006 was fucking amazing!’ It’s what you’re experiencing at that time. Yes, New York is way more expensive than it used to be, though under Bloomberg it’s less repressive than under Giuliani, the nightlife is better. But this idea of the salon being in New York, it’s an ancient European tradition of welcoming people into your house, offering art, food. The salon in the film was based on some places I had been, and there was a place called Cinesalon that was similar; it was more on the queer side than the Shortbus salon. But these places exist, and maybe the film will inspire more people to do that instead of gathering in a bar or some place that is less conducive to sociability.”

How much is this coloured by post-9/11 trauma and the question of how one lives in New York alongside Ground Zero?

“It’s very much in the shadow of 9/11. Many of us in the cast experienced it and experienced the blackout that was not too long afterwards, where they thought they were dead, and then realised, you know, it’s just a blackout. There really was no violence, it was a beautiful, beautiful experience where you’re walking down your street and didn’t know if you were on your street, so you had to deal with the person that was right in front of you and meet the people in your building and have a party on the stoop. I was with some of these actors that night and remember going to a bar with no air conditioning, so everyone took their clothes off. Someone was deejaying on an iPod with a transistor radio. You know, it was fantastic. So it’s definitely a love letter to New York in the shadow of 9/11, in the shadow of Bush. Because, you know, it’s probably the place where he’s least popular in the whole country, even though he pretended to defend our honour. You know, coming to New York. Who asked ya? He’s fucked up in so many ways. If we could secede from the Union we would. It’s also a difficult place to come to now because it’s economically difficult for young people. There’s a line in the film, ‘Why do people keep coming to New York after 9/11, it’s so expensive?’ and someone says, ‘Well, I’ve actually heard it’s because 9/11 was the first real thing that ever happened to some people. The first unedited thing they could experience in real time.’”

Do you think that 9/11 has had the same effect as AIDS in the 80s? They’ve both created an atmosphere of collective fear.

“Well, I don’t know whether you remember right after 9/11, people like Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell said, ‘Well it’s because of homosexuality and foreigners, that’s why 9/11 happened.’ At least they’re honest. At least they’re speaking the certainty that they’re feeling. Because somehow the other - terrorists, the immigrant, the homosexual, whatever - they’re all the same thing for many people in their minds.”

Why do America stars find it so difficult to portray sex on camera?

“They used to say that all those sex stars of the 30s and 40s and 50s had terrible sex lives - you know, Marilyn Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Lana Turner and everything – and that’s why they needed the camera, to fill up something they couldn’t experience. They don’t in front of the camera because they tend to be the international stars and in the States as opposed to Europe, once their career founders they’re probably going to have to go on television and the networks are not going to want Jennifer Aniston having sex because the sitcom might then be threatened. It’s a career-oriented thing for American stars whereas in Europe it seems like it’s much more about the project.”

Now you have people like Paris Hilton having sex.

“Well she doesn’t really have any talent, so she has to use what she has.”

Do you think that sex sometimes correlates with loneliness? Sometimes when you see it as a single person in movies, it’s a flipside of loneliness, where they’re trying to get out of their head.

“Yeah, thank God for sex drive because a lot of people would never leave the apartment. At base it’s an appetite, like any other appetite. You know, for some people food is connected to love as well, but sex has all these tendrils and synapses that connect to other parts of our lives. Sometimes love and sex intersect and it’s very powerful, and dangerous to the heart. But yeah, the language of sex is kind of the language when we’re talking about connection. For me the film is really about the question that we all have to answer: are we going to be alone or not alone? James, for example, tries to be alone and ultimately alone by ending it [suicide]. You can’t get more lonely than that. He can’t feel past his skin because whatever has happened to him, he hasn’t been able to let anything penetrate his mind and body and soul. I think we all have to make that decision at some point and in a way it’s the most important decision that anyone can make, because it involves politics and it involves sex and it involves love. For the last few years, we Americans have been alone. We don’t want immigrants. We don’t want anyone. And it doesn’t work. Americans now are realising the mistakes that have been made lately based on these kinds of fears.”

The final song in the film talks about embracing your demons because they’re actually your friends – and it’s I guess what all the characters learn to do in the end – and I wondered what your demons are/were?

“You know, certainly I wanted this to be useful to other people but it’s been very useful to me. I grew up in a very repressed Catholic/military environment and sex was very scary to me. Growing up gay and in the closet and all that, it was like the chimera that was there all the time, because who you were attracted to was taboo. The distillation of this was the sex act itself, which was a symbol for all these things, and that was reduced. You know, like in the Catholic Church, for example, that act has to be a certain way, it has to have a function, be procreative, and it has to be within marriage. It’s so frightening to so many people that it has to be bottled. And, of course, we see the result of trying to bottle and crush something that basic. You can’t do it. It’s impossible to crush and destroy it. So I’m learning about that, too. I find sex much less scary having done this film. And I think it was the same for some of the actors, they wanted to confront some demons.”


© Stephen Applebaum, 2006

Ray Harryhausen: "When I was 13 I saw King Kong. I couldn't believe it."

Ray Harryhausen discusses his career in stop-motion animation, King Kong and why he doesn't want to get hooked again.
London, 2003


[Interview conducted in 2003 for the publication of ‘Ray Harryhausen: An Animated Life’ by Ray Harryhausen and Tony Dalton. Published by Aurum Press.]


How did this book come about?


“Well I started it after a Film Fantasy Scrapbook and then I found I was repeating myself in what I was saying, because I’m not a professional writer. I was talking one time to Tony Dalton, who had interviewed me for the British Film Institute at regional theatres, and he got interested and said he would like to work with me on it. So we worked together on it and this is the result. We worked on it for over five years.”


The drawings in the book are fantastic works of art. What was their practical purpose in terms of getting a film made?

“They were mainly to sell the idea because they’re visual. Our type of picture was a visual thing. A lot of times when you try to raise money, they don’t have an idea of what it’s going to look like when you just use words. I found that out from Willis O‘Brien. Obie used to make these wonderful drawings for ‘Mighty Joe Young’ and for ‘King Kong‘. He had a whole staff on ‘War Eagles’ just to make paintings and drawings. I had to be very careful that whatever drawing I made, I felt I could put it on the screen. A lot of people draw them up and then when you try to put them on the screen, it’s impossible.”

Did you ever say you could deliver something before you actually knew you could? The guys at Pixar [Toy Story, Finding Nemo] say that’s often been how they’ve worked.


“I tried to avoid that. I tried to prove myself. When I took on ‘The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms‘, I used to make tests on 16mm, just to see if the theory I had in mind would be practical. I did it all on my own, nobody paid me for it, just to prove it to myself. Some people like to say things and then never prove that they can do it. I tried to establish in my mind that I could do it even before I opened my mouth.”


Your interest in stop-motion came about as a result of seeing King Kong in 1933. Why was that such a defining moment for you?


“That’s a very difficult thing to analyse. It’s just very peculiar to my mentality, I suppose. My parents, as I explain in the book, took me to see films like ‘The Lost World’ and ‘Metropolis‘, when I was four or five. Then, when I was 13, I saw ‘King Kong‘, and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know anything about stop-motion at the time and it was so different from anything else I had seen. Max Steiner’s great, Wagnerian score, just struck something in me. Other people look upon it as a horror film, but to me it’s the most wonderful fantasy adventure. It’s Never Never Land.

“It’s not just the special effects that affected me, it’s the whole structure of the story. They take you from the Depression-era mundane world into the most outrageous fantasy that’s ever been put up on screen. I think that was a great accomplishment. Also, the script was so economical in live-action terms. Today they pad up the live-action and you say, ‘When am I going to see the monster?’ In ‘King Kong’ it was an integral part of the structure. “Unfortunately, Willis O’Brien [the pioneer of stop-motion in America and Harryhausen‘s mentor] doesn’t get much credit for the basis of the story. He made all his preparation for a film called ‘Creation’ before ‘Kong’ turned up, and when Merian C. Cooper took over RKO, he saw all the tests for ‘Creation’ and a lot of that was incorporated in ‘Kong‘, as well as parts of ‘The Lost World‘. But the minute O’Brien’s thing goes into the writer’s realm, the writer gets credit for it. I’ve had the same situation. I bring in many ideas for sequences, and then we have these ’sweat-box sessions’, as I describe in the book, and then, of course, the writer incorporates them in the script in a logical way so they become his concept. Where, actually, they’re mine or Mr Schneer’s [Charles Schneer, Harryhausen’s producing partner on films such as Jason and the Argonauts and Clash of the Titans] or somebody else‘s. I don’t mean that to say the writer is taking unfair advantage. It’s his idea to incorporate these ideas. But, as I say, a lot of ‘Kong’ came from Obie and ‘Creation'.”


It was not just the story that fascinated you, though, but the very process that created King Kong, wasn‘t it?


“It was fascinating. You knew it wasn’t real, yet you knew it wasn’t a man in a suit. You know, they had films like ‘Ingagi’ and ‘White Pongo’ in those days, with Charles Gemora in a gorilla suit -- which always looked like Charles Gemora in a gorilla suit! He claimed that he was part of King Kong but he wasn’t. It was all animated. He did do a thing that Sid Grauman financed afterwards that was made with puppets, so he was the gorilla in a puppet film. But it was never finished and it disappeared into infinity.”


Stop-motion takes a lot of patience.


“Oh, it takes enormous patience.”


Did that come naturally to you?


“No, I had to develop it. I was very impatient until I worked with George Pal on Puppetoons. I spent two years working in his process where he had 25 separate figures to make one step. That taught me patience. Another thing that taught me patience was I had painted a glass painting to shoot through for a test scene, and I lost my temper, threw the hammer on the floor and it bounced and went up through the glass and ruined three weeks' work. After that I vowed I would never again lose my temper.”


You worked with Willis O’Brien on the 1949 animated ape movie, ‘Mighty Joe Young‘. Was the prospect of working with him as daunting as it must have been thrilling?


“It was the highlight of my life to work with Merian Cooper and Willis O’Brien. Good Lord! Some people worship movie stars. I worshipped them.”


You did 85% of the animation on ‘Mighty Joe Young‘, I believe?


“Yes, I worked with Obie mounting his drawings and sharpening his pencils until production started. It was called off many times. And then a few weeks would go by and it was called on again, when they got new sources of finance. I was with him in the preparatory stages and then when animation started, I did 85% of the animation.”


What did you learn working with him?


“Naturally I saw ‘King Kong’ about 150 times. But working with him on the preparation of ‘Mighty Joe Young‘, I knew instinctively what would please him and what he liked, because during the mounting of his drawings and everything we would talk about script. He would go to the story conferences, I never went to them, with Ruth Rose [co-writer], Merian Cooper [co-director] and Ernest Schoedsack, and he would bring a drawing in and they would incorporate it into the script in a logical way. Sometimes he would come back and say, ’Oh, they didn’t like my idea’, and then later on it would turn up in the script. But such is life. “It wasn’t until many years later -- I was very modest in those days, I was even thinking of changing my name to a shorter name -- that I discovered modesty is a dirty word in Hollywood. If you don’t claim credit for your own work, someone else will.”


Mighty Joe Young was a hit, the special effects won an Oscar, and yet both you and O’Brien found yourselves out of work. Why?


“Well it wasn’t the blockbuster they had hoped, and it got the reputation of costing a lot of money. We were the only picture shooting at RKO when Howard Hughes took over, and they dumped all the overheads of the heads of each department on our budget. Our budget was about $1.5m and by the time the bookkeeping had finished, it was over $2m, and that frightened a lot of people in 1949. Nobody, after Obie, won the Academy Award for special effects. Nobody was knocking on his door. It was pathetic because he should have gotten something for ‘King Kong‘, because that was his greatest triumph.”


I find it incredible that you have never been nominated for an individual film.


“Never! No! I never submitted because I lived in Europe. But Columbia submitted many of our films and they were completely ignored. We submitted the skeleton sequence in Jason and the Argonauts, nothing like it had ever been put on the screen before, and today it is considered a class, but it was completely ignored.”


Why?


“I have no idea. That’s not for me to analyse.”


You eventually received a Lifetime Achievement Oscar in 1992. Do you feel like scratching out the Lifetime Achievement bit and adding the name of a particular film you think should have been given an Oscar?


“Well there were several things, like the swordfight with Kali in ‘The Golden Voyage of Sinbad‘. Nothing like that has ever been put on the screen. That was submitted and ignored. It was not even nominated. You see, nobody knew much about animation and there was nobody there to push it. If I had lived in Hollywood and been an aggressive person, I probably would have had a little more say. A friend of mine connected with the special effects division said when they ran the Kali sequence, even the bigwigs of the special effects department didn’t know how it was done. They thought it was a man in a suit. That alone I would have thought would have at least been nominated, because it was a complicated sequence to do. So was the Hydra sequence in Jason and the Argonauts. So was the skeleton sequence. That alone took four-and-a-half months to do."


Was the lack of recognition dispiriting?


“Well stop-motion was very little known and I don’t think they had a category for that, like today they have a category for animation. But there may have been another reason, I don’t like to dwell on it, but I did everything myself and sometimes if you have a department in a studio and you have 25-50 people working in it -- like they have 80 people doing computer animation now -- to have some little poop come along and make a film without all these people around, that may have been resented. I don’t know. I was grateful that I finally got recognised with a Lifetime Achievement Award. But I think Jason should have had some recognition and the Kali sequence in Golden Voyage should have been recognised. I think the roping sequence in Gwangi should also have been recognised but it wasn’t even submitted.”


Do you think that you might have sometimes been punished for other elements in the films?


“The fact that they were low budget could have something to do with it in the back of people’s minds. It does no good to analyse. Some critics were very unfair to us, I think. They used to condemn a lot of our actors in the early days because we never used stars. They used to say, ’It’s a pity Mr Harryhausen didn’t animate the actors,’ which was flattering to me but not to the picture or the actors. Torin Thatcher, in ‘The 7th Voyage of Sinbad’, was a very experienced actor and he held the whole picture together really, as Sokurah. He was bigger than life as a magician and he knew just how far to go over the top. I think that helped the film enormously.”


I imagine if you’re playing against a creature you can’t see, but which you know is going to be fantastical, you have to be quite expert in judging how far to push your acting?


“That’s why I make these drawings. They’re published in the scripts so that the actors know what they’re looking at when all they’ll have to look at is a pole or a stuntman. That’s why I direct all the scenes myself that I’m involved in. Sometimes the director of the main part of the film resents that. One director tried to get me fired; he thought I had too much say.”


Was there often friction?


“There was often friction but we can’t help personality conflicts, that’s part of the business. I try not to take my head off and chomp on it. I’m very undemonstrative, shall we say. Sometimes I regret that. But then again, when I look back, I say, ’If I had been demonstrative, maybe I wouldn’t have made 16 feature films.’”


In the book you say that studios today wouldn’t tolerate a maverick who makes it up as he went along. Is that how you viewed yourself?


“No, no, one never does. You don’t call yourself that. That’s for other people. I just felt that’s what I had to do, that I had to be by myself. When we were on ‘Mighty Joe Young‘, there were about 40 people in the miniature department, and for a year we had four matte painters, and they cost a lot of money. Then, of course, we had four projectionists who would load the projector in the morning and sit and read the paper the rest of the day, while I was doing all the work. So I thought, ’This is ridiculous to pay for all this.’ Besides, I like being by myself because using the single figure technique that O’Brien developed with King Kong it requires enormous concentration requires enormous concentration to get a continuity and flow of action that will be pleasing on the screen. If someone asks you the time and you deviate from what you had in your mind when you’re animating, it can cause enormous problems. In computer animation you can go over it and go over it and refine it and refine it. It would take days but with this system, once something happened diabolically, seldom were you able to save the scene. You either used what you had and then put a close-up where the accident happened, or some other device.”


Of course this was all very expensive, and you quote a diary entry in your book where you say stop-motion would die if you couldn’t find a way to make it cheaper.


“Well it would have died. There were people in Europe like Yiri Trinka and Staravitch, who experimented around the same time as Obie did. I don’t know how big a crew they had, but they did have a crew, I think.”


A lot of your career seems to be have been about trying to keep stop-motion alive.


“I was trying to keep it alive, and I was looking for new avenues for stop-motion because it got too tied into monsters-on-the-loose. Ever since ‘Lost World’ and ‘King Kong‘, they ended up coming into a city and destroying it. I destroyed Washington, I destroyed Coney Island, I destroyed San Francisco, and even Rome. I made new ruins against the old ones. So it got rather repetitious. I was looking for a new avenue and I always wanted to animate a skeleton. I thought, ‘If James Bond or someone like that fought a skeleton, people would just laugh. But if a legendary figure like Sinbad, where you believe that in that period there was magic and all that sort of thing, they would take it seriously as a melodrama.’ So I started going through all the Sinbad stories and I concocted a 20-page outline, made eight big drawings, some of which are published in the book, and took them all around Hollywood. Nobody was interested. They said, ‘Costume pictures are dead’, because Howard Hughes had just made Son of Sinbad and it died at the box office.

“They made Arabian Nights tales with Sabu, but you never saw the creatures on screen. They would talk about them as though they were off-stage. You never saw the Cyclops and if you did, it was usually a Greek wrestler with an eye glued to the middle of his forehead. So I said, ‘We have got to approach these legendary characters like Sinbad in a way where we show the creatures, because they‘re the fascinating part of the stories.’ I‘m glad I stuck to my guns because finally when Charles Schneer and I were looking for a subject, I brought out my drawings and he fell in love with them and got Columbia to put up the money. But we had to do it on a very tight budget, which caused a lot of compromises. Originally I wanted to make it as lavish as the Korda Thief of Baghdad, but people just wouldn’t go for that type of budget. “The next step, of course, was Greek mythology. I remembered the Sand and Sandals Italian epics, where Steve Reeves and all the musclemen were involved. Then they had a flying horse with wings three-feet long on each side and you’re supposed to believe that that could lift a Hercules-looking man up into the air. So I thought there’s so many wonderful characters in Greek myhtology, like Cyclops and dragons, all these other creatures, and I approached it from that angle. Finally we made Jason and the Argonauts, which I think gave stop-motion a whole new venue to work in.”


Before all that, though, you had developed a cheaper method of stop-motion, which you would eventually call Dynamation. The first time you showed what could be done was on 1953’s 'The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms', wasn’t it?


“Yes, that’s where it first came into action but it wasn’t called Dynamation at that point. That was the preliminary test for trying to eliminate matte paintings because they cost so much. You have to have very talented artists to do that convincingly. I had to prove that you could make animation in a less expensive way than ‘Mighty Joe Young‘. But once you get trapped in low-budget pictures, the next producers says, ’Oh, we can’t afford that kind of money. You will have to make it for less.’ I was trapped in the low-budget film industry for quite a while. I think I learned more from doing it than if I had all the money in the world, because then you start to do experiments which are very costly. We couldn’t afford to do experiments. Practically everything you see in our films is 90-95% the first takes because we couldn’t afford the time involved to redo a scene unless it was diabolical. Some scenes I would like to do over and refine them, but it wasn’t on the cards. I’d like to do some of the harpy scenes over [in Jason and the Argonauts], and in Clash of the Titans I‘d like to do the scorpion scene again.”


With this new process, it was just you working alone?


“Yes, just me. Finally I had an electrician to be sure the lights were all burning. Because sometimes I would be concentrating and I wouldn’t notice a light burned out or something. I did all the camera work myself, lining it up, loading the projector -- it all worked automatically -- because I wanted this freedom to concentrate without having any distraction. I didn’t want anyone to sway me with ideas, where you have a whole bunch of people and somebody will say, ‘Don’t do it that way, do it this way.’ I did it the way it should be done. Well if you don’t like it, I’m a failure. But if you like it, I’m a success.”


What set your system apart from the one that Willis O’Brien was using?


“There was a split screen technique I developed where you project an image of a live-action set, say a street in New York, on a screen about four-feet wide, and then put a model on a table and split the screen with a matte between the photograph and the model, and photograph one of half of the picture with the model in the picture, animate it frame by frame, cover that part up and expose the other part to hide the animation table. An example is the church scene in ‘The Valley of Gwangi’ where we used a real church and then through a matting process I devised, we were able to give the illusion that Gwangi is inside.


“Willis O’Brien used many glass paintings and they’re expensive. We had a crew of about 47 people throughout the animation period on ‘Mighty Joe Young‘, and that lasted almost a year. These type of films, fantasy films particularly, were kind of dicey so they didn’t want to spend very much money. I had to concoct a way of putting these creatures into contemporary settings without the high cost of making miniatures and painting glass. So that was the first experiment, ‘The Beast from 20,00 Fathoms‘, of what we later called Dynamation.”


You say in the book that the skeletons in the original story of Jason are rotting corpses and that if you were making the film today, that’s what audiences would expect.


“Oh they would. Everybody is looking in the gutter today. Things we threw out in the 50s and 60s, and the great Golden Age of Hollywood, as bad taste, things people wouldn’t go for, all of a sudden are the norm today. You know, I just read an article in this morning’s paper that said a lot of people are going to see a particular film now just because it’s nasty. Now why do we want to go and see nasty things? At one time I wanted to do Dante’s Inferno, because Gustav Dore’s illustrations were fascinating to me. He was one of my mentor’s, too. But when I started analysing Dante’s Inferno, I said, ‘Who’s going to sit through an hour-and-a-half of tormented souls?’ Today, you sit through three hours of the most ghastly tormented souls. So I was obviously wrong. People today, or at least the people that make the films, think that’s what the public want.”


Does it depress you?


“It’s frightening. That’s why people like Tarantino are popular. I haven’t seen those type of pictures but from what I have read of them, they’re all based on the negative, you know? Why do you want to pay five or 10 pounds to go to a cinema and be depressed and hate your fellow man when you come out?”


Your films, of course take place in the realm of fantasy and you have always had a soft spot for dinosaurs. Why?


“I think because they are of a fantasy and they’re bizarre. The fact that they did live and no longer live, I think, puts them in the realm of fantasy.”


You call your creations creatures not monsters, and you have talked about dignifying them with human emotions.


“Yes, like the Ymir in ‘20 Million Miles to Earth'. He went through a metamorphosis of different appearances before I arrived at his final torso. I felt the humanoid form was best because the audience could then identify with certain little gestures.”


Do you think calling them monsters belittles them, because it suggests something one-dimensional?


“It is. They’re not monsters, they’re misunderstood creatures. The Ymir, in ‘20 Million Miles to Earth’ came down from Venus and he looked different. I mean look at how we frown upon a spider or a poisonous snake. The first instinct is to kill it, you know? These are shapes that we’re not aware of and some are very disturbing. I wouldn’t like to handle a tarantula, right? But this media, as I say, Willis O’Brien developed for the dinosaur period, where you restored creatures that you couldn’t photograph today. CGI has done a wonderful job. But the realism, if you get too real in fantasy, I think you lose the fantasy. You make it mundane.”


I read that if ‘King Kong had been made with CGI you probably would have done something else.


“That’s true. I probably would. But if anybody’s going to remake it, if it has to be remade, I think Peter Jackson can do the best job. He loves the original and I think he will be more sympathetic to the whole concept of the original than Dino De Laurentis was, who only was looking at it from the point of view of box office. I’ve talked to Peter about it, and I’ve seen some of his illustrations and his dinosaurs. He kindly flew my wife and I down to New Zealand, and we had a wonderful 10 days there. He started to plan ‘Kong’ years ago and he showed us some of the dinosaurs and Kong, just the skeleton of it. But I think if anyone’s going to redo it I think it’s best he does it, because he loves the subject. Dino De Laurentis, all he saw was a smart-ass girl making remarks at a gorilla. The fantasy aspect, the dinosaurs and the mystery of the island, was completely discarded.


“The original ‘King Kong‘, I think, will always be an original, no matter how many remakes there are or how good they are. I used to say, sometimes, ‘If Dino De Laurentis’s ‘Kong’ had come out in 1933, I probably would have become a plumber’. Not that the special effects were bad but the whole concept of the picture had no relation to the original concept.”


You actually considered remaking ‘King Kong’ at some point, didn‘t you?


“I was with Hammer and after ‘One Million Years B.C.’ they tried to get the rights and they couldn’t. I think it was a blessing because they wouldn’t have put the money and the thought into it that Peter Jackson is. They would look upon it more as a commercial project rather than a love project.”


Jackson will probably use CGI to create King Kong. You have said before that you don’t think something like the skeleton sequence could be equalled in the new medium.


“Well, they’ve tried it. In The Mummy there was a skeleton. But I think, unfortunately, today, everybody’s jaded because of television. When I was growing up, we used to look eagerly to Saturday night when you could go see the latest film. Films were important to our life then. Today there’s so many on the market, any Tom, Dick and Harry can call themselves a director and make a film. I find today’s filmmaking very confusing because they don’t have a continuity to the story. They think telling a story is old-fashioned, which is a load of rubbish. Everything has to be a short cut because the attention span of young people is limited, due to commercials. And you see the most amazing things on television in a 30-second commercial. So the amazing image on the screen is no longer unique. It’s been made mundane by over exposure.”I was impressed by Jurassic Park, which I thought used CGI in an amazing way.


“Jurassic Park was very impressive. I found the animals very believable and so realistic, and they could do moving shots that we couldn’t do in stop-motion. There are some rare occasions where it’s very impressive. But it’s not the type of film we made. Our creatures were characters in the script. For example, you take the puppet films like Chicken Run, they’re obviously a puppets because they look wooden, although they’re beautifully done and they move remarkably well. They pay attention to story which is good. But a puppet film is distinctly different to what we were doing. Charles Schneer and I made this series of fantasy films where the animation was part of the character rather than obvious animated characters. Some people even believe the baboon in ‘The Golden Voyage of Sinbad’ was a real baboon. You can’t train a baboon. So I’m very flattered.”


There‘s actually a fantasy element inherent in stop-motion itself, it seems to me, because the effect it produces is of something that is almost but not quite real.


“Yes, it’s like a dream. And stop-motion adds to that strange quality that is like walking on a tightrope. That’s what fascinated me about ‘Kong‘, but I didn’t know how it was done then. Today, they expose all the special effects before the film comes out. That’s why I used to be called precious about keeping everything a secret. My philosophy at that time was that if a magician tells you how he pulls a rabbit out of a hat, you’re no longer interested in his trick.”


Is that why you have done the book now? Now that CGI has superseded stop-motion, did you feel that it was time to expose the tricks of your trade?


“Yeah, because everybody else has exposed everything. For a good many years I kept it as secret as possible. That was half the charm of ‘Kong’ at the time. Nobody knew how it was done and there were misleading articles in magazines; it was Charles Gamora in a suit; it was a big mechanical gorilla that was operated with an organ in Popular Mechanics. Today, Cinefex and Cinefantastique all expose the tricks. Now they’re putting out these books on special effects which, I think, to the average person it’s like a magician betraying his secrets. Because it’s not a question of secrecy so much as a question of wanting you to get in the spirit of what you’re looking at on the screen.”


To me it always seems as if your effects have a physical presence that's often absent from a lot of CGI work.


“Possibly, because it’s now a group effort rather than a single effort. I think Willis O’Brien put love in his Kong just as I tried to put love in my creatures. Putting yourself into the model.”


Looking back, do you have any regrets about having cut yourself off from people so much to make these films?


“You can’t have regrets, really. At the time you do it the way you think it should be done and that’s it. Maybe I did it wrongly. I could have established a company, like Rick Baker and Phil Tippett, and had people do it, but I didn’t want to be an administrator."


Nick Park, the creator of ‘Wallace and Gromit’ and ‘Chicken Run’, has said that animators need to be obsessive. Is this true?


“You have to want to do it more than anything else in the world. It’s painful sometimes if you can’t do it, so you have to be a bit of a fanatic, I think, to see these things through. You’re stopping your mentality down from a flow into a single frame, and that’s not easy for some people. Jim Cameron said he tried animation and he found it tedious. I never found it tedious for some reason that’s quite peculiar to me.”


Indeed, it seems from early on you were temperamentally suited to working on your own, because you say in the book you couldn’t have worked for Disney.


“That‘s right. I applied for a job with Disney in the Fifties and I got refused. That’s the best thing that happened to me because I would have been a cog in a wheel. Although I admire Disney’s work and I’m not condemning that technique of having a mass of people doing it. That was one of the advantages of the animated cartoon, why it grew. Stop-motion came in about the same time as the animated cartoon, but the animated cartoon could be industrialised. It wasn’t until Industrial Light & Magic [ILM] took over the special effects for Star Wars that they were able to industrialise it by having departments like they have in the animated cartoons. Because they have to get it out! I admire that but it didn’t seem to be the path I wanted to follow.”


You were an only child. Were you quite solitary and do you think this made it easier for you to work alone?


“I was, yes. I was very introverted and I still am, I suppose. I can’t help it, it’s the way I was born. I’m sure it helped because it caused me to concentrate on the thing I loved to do. And I have been very fortunate over the years to be able to do what I wanted to do when I was very young without too much interference. Of course, I did have quite a lot of restrictions with the type of budgets we had, but I tried to overcome that some way.”


What’s been the primary joy of it for you? Has it just been bringing to life things which are in your imagination?


“Half the charm I find is on the Moviola when you get the rushes back the next day and see if you captured what you had in your mind. That lasted me for a good many years.”


Have you also been driven by the desire to give people the same feeling you had when you saw ‘Kong‘ for the first time?


“Not consciously, although probably I was, yes. Nothing like it had been seen and it haunted me for years.”


Talking about ILM and Star Wars, the latter came out the same year as Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger. When you saw Star Wars, did you realise then that the era of stop-motion had perhaps passed?


“I never thought in those terms. People looking at it might have done. I just wanted to make the next picture. But finally, after ‘Clash of the Titans’, I felt I had had enough of being in a dark room while other people on the production went out and made two or three pictures while I was still on one.”


You have also said that it was becoming more difficult to work on your own.


"Well, it became more difficult, let us put it that way. I could have probably, but it became more difficult.”


Do you see a continuation between what you were doing and what is being done today? I mean there’s an obvious continuation from O’Brien to you.


“It’s like a snowball. I was impressed by Obie’s work and people now seem to be impressed by my work. People are impressed by CGI, so who knows what’s next? Maybe holograms, I don’t know. It’s hard to predict what the future is. If I was in a mind to predict at the time I made ‘7th Voyage‘, I would probably have been a millionaire if I had kept certain things back, but in those conditions it wasn’t possible. You had to turn everything over to the studio to get the picture made. My interest was to get the picture made rather than great financial rewards. Today, people get fantastic salaries just for doing the basket work or making a head or something. That’s why pictures are costing millions. ‘The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms‘, the whole picture only cost $200, 000, including the special effects. You can’t buy a costume for that today. You start talking about $100 million on a picture.”


Do you see your influence at work today?


“Well it’s not for me to see my influence. Other people see it, I don’t claim that. I’m glad I did what I did, because no one else was doing it. Like I was influenced by O’Brien, young people come to me and say, ’You made my childhood,’ you know? When I go to sign these books and stills at various conventions, you have a family of three generations come up and say, 'My father saw your films and he taught me to see them, and I’m teaching my child’. I feel like Methusala. I think that’s a blessing that Charles and I have left something positive, because today some of the films leave such a negative effect it’s frightening. And they wonder why little five-year-olds get their father’s gun and shoot a fellow student. Television and films are praising violence and the negative. Hollywood got condemned for making happy endings, but, you know, when you go to a cinema you want to come out feeling happy, not watch somebody in the process of dying.”


Are there any projects you regret not making?


“I’d have loved to make more Greek mythology, and Dante’s Inferno, and Ilya Mourometz, a Russian fairy tale, but it probably would be too expensive to make.”


Two animators, Mark Caballero and Seamus Walsh, recently completed an 11-minute animated version of Aesop's ‘The Tortoise and the Hare’ begun by you in 1952. How did this come about?


“I had done three or four minutes of animation on it and then given it up, but I still had them and that’s still in the picture. So Mark and Seamus studied my technique in my previous fairy tale films and wrote me and said, ’We’d love to finish it for you. We won’t charge you anything.’ I said, ’Oh my God’, because I thought it would never be finished. So after a previous offer to complete it fell through, I felt that they could do it, and they did a wonderful job.”


How did the collaboration work?


“Mostly by fax and phone. I couldn’t find the final script, it had been lost, so I had to re-write the whole story, and I faxed it to them. Occasionally, when I went over to America, I would drop in and we would have personal contact. They did it in their spare time. It was done over a long period.”


You did some animation on it, didn’t you?

“I did. When I got trapped there they said, ’Come on, do a scene for us.’ I did it but I don’t want to get hooked again.”


How did it feel?


"I don’t want to get hooked again.”


© Stephen Applebaum, 2006

Friday

Al Gore: "We're at a fork in the road and we can take one of two paths."


Former Vice President Al Gore calls for action to address the climate crisis threatening our planet in An Inconvenient Truth.
France, May 2006


Is the slideshow you deliver in An Inconvenient Truth, and your engagement with environmental issues, part of an engagement with something you think politicians have overlooked?

“Yes, it is. This climate crisis has not been dealt with by the world’s political systems, and my own country has, along with Australia, been one of only two nations not to join the global treaty that helps to start the world fighting against the climate crisis. My objective with the slideshow, and now the movie and the book, is to help persuade the people of the United States, and the people of the world, that we must urgently face this climate crisis.

“It is a planetary emergency, and we have to work together to solve it. We can solve it. We have everything we need to get started very effectively, save, perhaps, political will. But as I say in the movie, political will is a renewable resource. In democracies we can make choices about our own future. This movie is designed to push the world toward a tipping point beyond which politicians in all parties, of every system, make this a priority and start offering meaningful solutions.”

Does the responsibility ultimately lie with us making it clear to politicians that unless they address these issues, they won’t get our votes?

“Yes, precisely. It lies with the politicians as well. But I was in politics for a long time, and I have worked on this crisis for a long time, and I do believe very strongly that because it’s complex, that because it defies our accepted understanding of our relationship with the earth itself that our culture and our history have equipped us with, because we now have a radically new relationship to the planet that we haven’t fully absorbed, politicians have been timid and have largely failed to safeguard the future of civilisation, because that’s what’s at risk now. Consequently, I’ve come to believe that we have to change the minds of the people by giving them the basic facts about the crisis, the dangers it poses, and the solutions; and why there’s every reason for hope that we can in fact solve it. And that’s what the movie and the book are aimed at. There’s also a website –
www.climatecrisis.net – and at the end of the summer I’m starting a training programme to train others in how to give my slideshow in their voices all around the world, to try to spread this message as far and wide as possible.”

Is that the new forum you have created, because it’s been said by one of your colleagues that it’s going to look like a political campaign?

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s a campaign not for a candidacy but for a cause: to change the minds of the American people and the minds of people throughout the world. The leading scientists who I most respect are now saying, for the first time, that we may have less than 10 years before we cross a point of no return, unless we begin soon to make significant changes. If you believe that, and I do, then nothing else matters.”

Are you optimistic about the issue?

“I am optimistic because I know from my experience that the political system has one thing in common with the climate system: it is non-linear. It can seem to move at a glacier’s pace, but then suddenly move quickly. The concept of a tipping point is that threshold beyond which the political system shifts into high gear, stops moving so slowly, and starts moving swiftly, dramatically, and urgently. We are capable of that. And when parents understand that their children are at risk, when they understand that they themselves are at risk, when they understand that the habitability of the planet for human beings is at risk then it becomes no longer a political issue, it’s a moral issue. It’s an ethical issue. And, in a real sense, a spiritual issue. It causes us to ask, who are we? What is our purpose in life? Are we meant to destroy the planet that is our only home, or to destroy those characteristics that nurture human life and civilisation? Of course not. But if we do not find ways to change and transform the patterns and behaviours and activities that are destroying the planet’s climate, then we are what we should not want to be, and I refuse to believe that. I know that we are capable, as human beings, in every nation, obviously, of transcending our limitations. We’re complex creatures with a complex evolutionary heritage, we have the potential for good and bad, and we have to choose who we are and how we proceed from here. We’re at a fork in the road and we can take one of two paths.”

Are you now regarded as a dangerous man by some of the lobbyists for, say, the oil industry?

“Well, uh, I am telling an inconvenient truth. I don’t like to think of myself as a dangerous person to the oil companies and the coal companies and some of the others that want to continue dumping all this pollution into the earth’s environment. Um, maybe some of them do see me that way. But, you know, today, looking at this beautiful ocean here [we’re on the French Riviera], today, 25 million tons of carbon dioxide will be absorbed into the oceans of the world. Much more than that will be added to the burden in the earth’s atmosphere. But just the amount in the oceans has now turned the oceans more acidic. And if we continue, forget about the warming for a moment, forget about the atmospheric effects of trapping more heat from the sun and causing all these dire consequences, just look at the amount going into the oceans. It is now beginning to interfere with the process by which sea creatures make shells. It’s beginning to make it impossible, in the colder waters near both poles, for the cold water coral polyps to make their skeletons or reefs. And if it continues, and there will be another 25 million tons going into the ocean tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day [getting quieter for effect], if it continues for a few more years, for another 40 years, the oceans will reach a condition they haven’t been in for 300 million years. It’s insane for us to continue this.”

What specific differences did you make when you were in office that you are proud of?

“Er, I helped to get the breakthrough at Kyoto. I helped to draft that treaty and I went to Kyoto personally to help achieve the breakthrough. I helped to pass a form of a carbon tax in the US and to change, for the better, our environmental laws. The Republicans took control of the Congress only two years into the Clinton/Gore terms, and so we met with a lot of resistance. So we were not able to do everything that we would have wanted to do. But that is the reason why I am focusing on changing the minds of the people. Because the politicians are more vulnerable to the influence of these polluting lobbies of the people are quiet on this subject. If the people are not exercised about it, if they don’t demand action, the oil companies and the coal companies, some of them are very observant and very active in the political system, not only in the United States but in a lot of other places. So, in order to take their influence away, as the driving force, we have to get the truth of our situation into the hearts and minds of the people generally.”

You’ve said you don’t mean to campaign for the 2008 election but that would be the fastest track, wouldn’t it?

"Well, I appreciate you saying that but I do not have plans to be a candidate again. I think that whoever is elected President in 2008 will be able to do more or less depending on what happens in the minds of the people; if, by the time of that election, there is a demand on the part of the people, in both of the major political parties in the US, for action on this issue.”

Do you see anyone on either side of the political divide with such an ecological conscience?

“Well no. But it’s too early. And if the people make it clear that this is a top priority, then that will bring forth politicians that will understand that and speak to that in both parties.”

I wonder if Michael Moore has been a kind of role model . . .

“Nooooo.”

I mean as someone who has used film as a vehicle for an issue and who also took his film [Fahrenheit 9/11] to Cannes and used the audience.

“I like Michael Moore but there is a big difference between Fahrenheit 9/11 and An Inconvenient Truth. An Inconvenient Truth is not seen by the audience as a political movie. It’s not seen as a partisan movie. There are a few comments I make because I am who I am, but Republicans and conservatives, no less than Democrats and liberals, react the same way, that it’s not political. Now, the fact is there is a new market in cinema, in the US and worldwide, for movies that don’t simply entertain with fictional stories, but for movies that entertain and amuse while delivering information that is not accessible in other ways. Our political dialogue, at least in the United States, has been shrunken to fit these tiny little sound bites, and an issue like the climate crisis doesn’t fit in a sound bite. It will fit in a 90-minute, entertaining presentation, with cartoons and jokes.“

Has the slideshow been changed for the movie or is it the same as it has always been?

“It’s the same slideshow. It was improved for the movie with computer-driven, high-density versions, but all the images are basically the same. The cartoon with Mr Sunbeam is from a show called Futurama. One of my daughters worked for Matt Groening for three years, as a comedy writer there, and she had heard my slideshow for so long that she joined with her colleagues there to create that little segment. Matt Groening and Fox allowed me to use that for free. Now, the cartoon of the polar bear is not in the slideshow. That was created for the movie. The frog is in the slideshow. It’s a new frog for the movie. But it’s the same sequence.”

In the film you say that science should be free from political manipulation but at the same time you speak about sceptical scientists. What makes you think that this is the mother of all emergencies?

“There has been the largest and most complete scientific effort in all of history on this issue. Two thousand scientists, in a hundred countries, over 20 years, have produced as strong a consensus as ever produced in science that this crisis is real, that we are causing it, that the consequences will be catastrophic, that we must act to solve it, and it is not too late to do so. There are a handful of so-called sceptics, none of them taken seriously by their colleagues, many of them on the payroll, directly or indirectly, of large polluters, who try to create just enough confusion to prevent the people generally from locking on the gravity and urgency of the scientific consensus. And it is a challenge to our democracies, it is a challenge to our way of making decisions in this world, that this flow of information from the scientists to the rest of us has been so easily interrupted and distorted, and that our ability to act has been so easily paralysed.

“It is similar in my country, and I do draw this analogy in the movie, to what happened when the Surgeon General of the United States, and the doctors and scientists, said, ‘Smoking cigarettes causes lung disease, and every year more Americans die from smoking cigarettes than all of the Americans that died in World War 2. Every year.’ But, for 40 years, the tobacco companies were able to do the same thing that Exxon Mobil and some of the oil and coal companies are doing now: taking pseudo scientists, giving them money, financing publications that look like very serious publications, and putting out to the news media, ‘Oh, there’s a lot of doubt about smoking and lung disease. Don’t worry. More doctors smoke Camels than any other brand’, etc, etc. It’s immoral. It’s immoral. And some of the tobacco companies now look back and they feel ashamed about what they did. Others still don’t. But the day is coming soon when executives at companies like Exxon Mobil will look back at their activities in the year 2006 and they will feel ashamed.”

Your son’s accident was also a turning point within your own attitude, wasn't it?

“Yes. There have been three turning points for me, and all three of them had the same result where my commitment to global warming is concerned. I received this information, as I told you, as a student, but the first turning point was when I was first elected to Congress and I had the ability to choose, among all the issues, what should I focus on? I said, ‘I’m going to focus on global warming.’ No one else was. That’s when I started.

“In 1989, when my family went through his traumatic event - which had a happy ending, my son is fully recovered – it was a time that caused me to completely re-evaluate my own priorities in life, both on the personal side and the professional side, and this issue rose to the surface even higher. That’s when I started putting the slideshow together. That’s when I wrote a book called ‘Earth in the Balance’.

“Then, after the Presidential Election of 2000, the third point arrived when I had a chance to start over in my life. I needed a job, among other things, and I had the chance to decide, ‘What will I focus on?’, and again this came rising even more to the top of the list of how I should spend my time. So I am doing everything I can.”

You introduce yourself in the movie with the words, ‘I used to be the future President of the United States.’ It sounds funny but how much bitterness is in those words?

“Well there’s no bitterness in the words. [Pretends to cry] There are millions and millions of people who have been through so much worse than I have been through. If you walk out here on the sidewalk, four out of every 10 people that you see, if you spend time with them, and really understood what had happened in their lives and what they’d been through, it’s part of the human condition. So I put it in perspective. I feel badly for the people who have been hurt by policies that are profoundly mistaken, in my view, and I won’t go into all the policy mistakes I think have been made, but for myself I feel grateful for the chance I have had to serve in American democracy, to have success in many fields of life, to have a wonderful family, a great life. So why dwell on causes of regret and yield to bitterness? Look forward.”

Some people said you should have fought longer after the Supreme Court’s decision, that you accepted it too soon. Was there anything you could have done at that point?

“Yes, well, in the American system there is no intermediate step between a final Supreme Court decision and violent revolution.”

Instead there was a kind of quiet revolution. You had the popular vote.

“Yes, well, in our system it is the Electoral College. Now leaving aside whether it should be changed or not, I think it should be, but underlying all of the possibilities of democracy being able to exist at all is the rule of law. What allows us to govern ourselves, ultimately, is a commitment to the rule of law. And, in the US context, our founders famously said, ‘We are a nation of laws, not men’. They would say 'people' today, hopefully. But once the Supreme Court, which is in our system the ultimate arbiter of what the law means as against the requirements of the Constitution, once they had made a final decision, then my choice was either to accept the rule of law or to stand outside the law and challenge the legitimacy of the entire system. Now, you can make a case for doing the latter. But I believe I made the right choice. I know that I would make that choice again, even with the terrible consequences that have flowed from the decisions made by the person chosen by the Supreme Court to be President.”

Is there a downside to being Al Gore? Could . . .

“[Mock affront] How could you possibly think so?”

Have you been able to achieve everything you want to achieve or not, because of the person you are?

“Er, any time you’re in a high profile position in the political context, you’re going to have a lot of friends and have some enemies [Laughs], and you’re going to make some people happy with what you’ve done and some people angry with what you’ve done. In my case I feel very fortunate that the positives have outweighed the negatives. But that’s true in everybody’s life, you know? It’s just magnified in somebody that has been in the political arena because people project things onto you, whether positive or negative, and they may feel things that have nothing to do with you but it's because they’ve associated it with you. But the positives far, far, far outweigh the negatives for me.”

An Incovenient Truth is released to buy on DVD on December 26th.


©Stephen Applebaum, 2006

Thursday

Paul Greengrass: "They were fighting for their lives and they were fighting to get home."

Paul Greengrass tackles the story of the flight that fought back in the award-winning United 93.
France, May 2006

How do you think this adds to the debate about what happened on 9/11 and do you think it will help in a dialogue between communities?

“OK, well, it seemed to me, starting this film, that 9/11, and particularly this aeroplane, United 93, in some ways symbolically the heart of the event, had been kind of corralled from two sides of a political debate. On the one side you had ‘Let’s roll’ turned into a political slogan, that it meant all sorts of things, you know? And on the other hand you had the kind of conspiratorial left, in a sense, arguing that this was not the truth and the truth, ultimately, was that the bad guys were our government – we were being lied to and so on and so forth.

“One of the things this film is an attempt to do is take those two propositions and say, ‘Let’s try and explore this story based on what we can verifiably know and then, in good faith, using the tools at our disposal, which are the 9/11 Commission, and a group of actors and aviation professionals and pilots, and sitting in a real aeroplane, with the timeline, let’s explore what probably happened, and be faithful to what we know happened.’ Because we know, broadly speaking, what happened; we know when the hijack occurred, we know roughly when it ended, we know roughly where they were in the aeroplane, we know when they started making calls, we know from the many calls over the next 20 minutes, roughly speaking, what was happening, we know from calls made on other aeroplanes, because they were doing the same thing, so we can extrapolate a lot, and the 9/11 Commission did that, and we know when the counter-attack began, and we know from many of the phone calls that it had the character of a mass attack, not just a tiny group of people, and we know from what the plane did in the air what must have been occurring in there, and we know from the 30-minute cockpit voice recording what was going on in the cockpit. So we can know an awful. But, of course, we can’t know all.

“So, using all of that, let’s explore a believable truth, because that has got to be serving us better than either the political sloganeering or the conspiracy mongering, if you like.

“Now why is that important? It seems to me important because, at the moment, in the post-9/11 world, all our societies, but obviously the United States particularly, are riven with a debate between those two poles about what we’re going to do in the post-9/11 world and what our correct response should be. And obviously, clearly, clearly, we’re not improving the situation, the situation’s getting worse. So maybe we should go back to the place where it began. Wherever you are on the political spectrum, I think it’s common ground that something happened that day that caused our perceptions to change. So let’s sit down and tell the story of this one event and see what that tells us.”

How about also looking at the pre-9/11 world and the events and decisions which may have contributed to the reasons for the 9/11 attacks? My concern is that the power of films like United 93 and Oliver Stone’s World Trade Centre could make it appear almost obscene to engage in that kind of debate, that you drown out that kind of enquiry, that things like foreign policy and so on don’t get debated, especially in the mainstream discussion.

“I understand the question. I don’t agree at all. I think precisely the opposite, actually, and I thought that for quite a number of years, and that’s why I’ve made some of the films that I have. I think the attempt to contextualise in some ways leads you into more problems than refusing to contextualise, because one man’s contextualisation is another man’s propaganda, and that then becomes what the film is about. When, in fact, what you want is for people to contextualise it themselves. And I think they do.

“Now why do I think this? Well, I can tell you very clearly why: I can remember, a year ago, starting to explore in a serious way doing this film, but I wasn’t sure. You know, and it was having to do with making films like ‘Bloody Sunday’ and ‘Omagh’, and films like Stephen Lawrence, films about political violence where I’d worked very closely with families, so I was sort of thinking about should I, could I, what would it be, where would it go, and then 7/7 happened [the bombings in London in July 2005]. And I remember, I remember it quite distinctly, my son, we couldn’t find him for about an hour. He was fine, he was nowhere near the Tube, but for an hour, like I’m sure hundreds upon hundreds upon hundred of thousands of people, just like what happened in Madrid, just like happened in New York, just like happened in Bali, there’s this rippling out where you think, ‘Oh my God, maybe this thing has touched me.’ And you feel fear and anger. And when it’s over, and it’s all alright, you like look at this child and just think, ‘How have we got to this place that these things happen and what are we going to do about it?’

“What’s interesting here is it’s about this thing, which is, why involve the families? You have to involve the families, number one, because they’re the foundation of legitimacy. If you don’t have the strongest possible, and widest possible, support from the families, then you have no business making these films, in my view. But there’s another reason which in a way is even more important and it’s this, and I’ve said this many times when I’ve made films in Northern Ireland: If you wanted to understand the sort of real truths that lie at the heart of political violence in a democracy and what it’s about, go and talk to people whose lives have been destroyed by it. Really talk. Spend time with them. And I’ve done it, I’ve been lucky enough to do it, quite a lot in different places, different sorts of violence. The Bloody Sunday families, these innocent family members shot by the British army in a counter-terrorism operation; the Omagh families, people from all across the political spectrum and religious spectrum, blown up by a bomb on a market square; the United 93 families. Stephen Lawrence - it’s political violence, essentially; it’s racial violence the same thing - a Jamaican family, a son murdered in the middle of the street. What you find when you go and meet these people and spend time with them is the absolute reverse of what you think you’d find. You very rarely find bitterness and a thirst for revenge. But what you do find, always in my experience, is this sense of lives destroyed and changed in their direction irrevocably. You find a pattern of many of these people, from different backgrounds, different starting points, then compelled on a journey towards meaning, because their children or their parents or their husband or their wife have been killed, or horrendously injured. Why has this thing happened? What are we going to do to stop it?

“Those of us not touched directly don’t really ever want to engage in these questions. For us, we see these things happen on the television, and of course we’re shocked and momentarily we stop, pay our respects, but then we want to carry on with our lives, untouched, because it’s the World Cup coming, because I’m going to the pub, because I’ve got my holiday booked, and all that. And what we expect of these families is having had their anointed moment as victims, they disappear. But if you’re a family, compelled against your will and never expecting it to happen, parked up against the overwhelming psychological imperative to seek meaning, you refuse to accept victimhood. You demand to speak. You demand that we all address this issue. Why has this happened? What are we going to do about it?

“But we don’t really want to do that because to do it involves profound change, so you find often that we have this question, ‘Is it too early to do a film about 9/11?’ We don’t mean for them. They say, ‘Why wasn’t the film made the day after?’ We mean it’s too early for us to stop having our summer holidays and get to grips with this thing. Because we know what the context of this thing is. Every one of us, from wherever we are on the political spectrum, and whatever we think about what’s going on, know, ultimately, deep down, that our world is divided by this Western pocket of extraordinary modernity and wealth, and the rest of the world is a seething cauldron of resentment and anger. We know that.

“Now, we can have an argument about what we can do about it. But we know that that’s the reality. Somewhere this thing comes from there. But do any of us in any of our countries elect governments who are going to fix that? Would we vote for a party that would say, ‘We’re going to quadruple your tax because we’re going to deal with the problems of the world?’ No. Nowhere would we do that. Of course not, that’s the problem.”

How did you get the families’ permission?

“By asking them and accepting that if they said no you wouldn’t make the film, and by showing them the previous film’s I had made, and by making a commitment to speak to them, because I believe, based on the films I had made, that that wasn’t something that you get. It’s by engaging with them that you suffuse your film with exactly what I’m talking about:: the search for meaning, the requirement to find it.”

Were they all onboard from the start?

“I found this before when I asked, you tend to have three pockets of people: people who definitely want a film made, people who are not sure, and people who are opposed. Then you have to get into a dialogue and explain who you are, what you’ve done, and how you propose to make the film. Then what happened in this case is the undecideds became strongly convinced, and the sceptical people, we learnt a lot more about what their scepticism was based on, and that’s really quite interesting.

“Mrs Felt, her husband died in the plane, and I remember sitting at a meeting with her, and she was initially opposed to this film. She said she would meet and talk about it and I explained as honestly as I could what we were trying to do, and I said, ‘One of the problems, of course, is that any film I make will be quite realistic, otherwise there would be no point in me making it.’ I thought, of course, this would be one of her issues. I said, ‘It would be harrowing, and we must confront that, and if that’s not something people want then I wouldn’t make it. But I am worried that I might create images that would cause you distress.’ She’s a most impressive and formidable person and I’ll never forget it. She fixed me with a very steely eye, and she said, ‘There are no images that you could ever create that would come near the images that I live with every day and have done since September 11. The issue for me is not that. The issue is that I’m opposed to a film being made that doesn’t have them in it, because if you’re not prepared to address honestly the reality of this thing, then I’m not interested in being involved.’ So she came to believe, and I felt the moral force of what she was saying.”

Did you also get the families together?

“Oh yeah, absolutely. And continually. All the way across production and all the way to today. The other crucial issue when you meet families is to say, ‘Let me make my film but you will see it first. And if you don’t like it, of course you will say so publicly. And then the film will be destroyed. And rightly so.’ So you make yourself accountable to them, you know?”

How did you choose who would be heroic?

“There were no problems. In the end what you do is you sit together, collectively, as a group, and come up with rules. And the rules were to have a group of actors interacting with professional people. So, in the air traffic control, it was air traffic controllers and actors, in the military environment it was military personnel, and in the aeroplane flight attendants and pilots. They were real, trained, that’s what their jobs were, and you collectively discuss all the issues, searchingly and at length, and you set out at the outset saying, ‘We cannot know the truth, all we can do is be faithful to known facts, which are quite considerable. We know, broadly speaking, what happened, and we know a lot of the detail. But the choices that we make about what we don’t know, we will all discuss and we will all have reasons for them. Then we must trust that the aggregate of all of those choices, discussed, represents the best that we can do, given that we can never recreate the past.’ You can’t, you never can, it’s a piece of cinema. But you do that on the basis that it will speak to us today. That’s all you can do. Audiences will judge for themselves whether it feels believable and if it’s an insight that pushes back the political ownership of 9/11 from either side and creates this space where you can recognise common humanity, true meaning, in an event that speaks to us today. This event, this violent confrontation in a sealed, hi-tech aeroplane, guzzling gasoline, does that speak to us today? It does to me. It’s where we are, isn’t it?”

Is it difficult not to demonise people when you make a film like this?

“When I made Bloody Sunday, one of the things that film did was play very strongly in Britain, because people saw it for what it was: a truthful and honest attempt to explore what it was honestly like in the early years of the Troubles, without ducking the fact that tremendous mistakes were made and on that day murder was committed. But you didn’t feel that those soldiers were psychopathic monsters turning up to shoot innocent people. You felt what they were: trained soldiers in the middle of a counter-terrorism campaign, who had been told to go to a place to draw a line in the sand, and the build up of tension between the demonstration and the counter-demonstration, military activity created this ballet that in the end marched everybody over the edge. But it didn’t duck responsibility for who did what. And in a sense it’s the same with this film. You have to in some way craft a film that is dispassionate and compassionate so that you understand that you condemn, obviously, the horrendous violence took places on that aeroplane, but yet you understand that those young men are driven by a devout and blind sense of the rightness of their cause. I always used to say to my actors, ‘This is the line Bob Dylan never wrote when he wrote ‘God on our Side’”, because those guys thought they had God on their side.”

How difficult was it working without a script?

“Well we had a document. It wasn’t a formal screenplay in that sense but it probably had more words in it than the normal screenplay. It was 90-pages long, it was actually a prose document, but it was broken down scene by scene, so that we understood at each point where in the story we were. It had some pieces of dialogue in it but not very much. The reasons being that on the one hand, if you’re in, say, an air traffic control environment and an aeroplane drops its transponder, well there’s no point me writing dialogue for what an air traffic controller does at that point because those guys are trained for it all their lives. You just have to create the scenario and then they do what they do. In the aeroplane, of course, it was different, because in the aeroplane you’re mining elemental fear, basically, and there’s a certain point where you, as a director, if you want to express complex, collective eddies and shoals of emotion that race around in a group from individual to individual, that what you’re really addressing is the complexity of the group dynamics than being interested in the specifics of what people say. So what you were trying to do in that is divide off the groupings. You had the stewardesses at one end, the young men at the other, because that’s likely how it would work.”

At the end the film becomes a kind of metaphor, it seems to me, for the human condition, that it’s humanity clawing at humanity, and we’re all headed for disaster if we don’t find a solution to this problem. Was that your intention?

“Well I used to say to the actors, and I’m sure they’ll probably remember, ‘When you get out of your seats to engage in that last seven minutes of violence, you are those men and women then, fighting for your lives and fighting to get home.’ We all collectively felt quite sure that none of them were fighting for a cause or for politics. They were fighting for their lives and they were fighting to get home, and that, incidentally, is what the families felt. But somewhere along the line, as that struggle unfolds, I used to say, ‘I want to feel that you are still those individuals then, but you are us now, all of us now, and all of us tomorrow.’”

And does that go for the terrorists as well because they all seem equalised as human beings in this tragic moment?

“I wouldn’t say equalised. It depends what you mean by equal. Morally, no. But these images of a bloody struggle for the controls of a plane that’s plunging to the earth is an image that speaks to where we’re going if we’re not very careful. But not moral equivalence. I don’t believe in moral equivalence."


©Stephen Applebaum, 2006

Zach Braff: "I've definitely suffered from depression. It's something I deal with."


Resident Scrubs clown Zach Braff gets serious, talking depression, Judaism, Dogme and darkness. London, October 2006

I read an interview with your brother Joshua and he was saying that his Jewish upbringing was quite restrictive, and this was the impetus for his novel, The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green.

"Yeah, well, they sent him to yeshiva, so he did have a strict upbringing. In his early years my father was very religious. We were kosher, but my two older bothers [Joshua and Adam] went to yeshiva, and didn’t have a very positive experience. I think it was so strict that it pushed them away from Judaism, a little bit. But I think that was not the best school in the world."

Yes, it sounded particularly strict.

"It sounds like when you hear these nightmare stories of strict nuns for people who go to Catholic schools. It was kind of like that. Have you read his book? It’s great. I’m not just saying that because I’m his brother, it’s wonderful. And the Jewish community in America is just embracing it and he’s like on a permanent tour of Jewish community centres [laughs]."

Do you think he is speaking for a lot of people in the book?

"I think there are a lot of people his age that grew up in Jewish communities and had Judaism sort of pushed, in a narrow way, a little too hard. They were given the hard sell and in a way that pushed a generation back a little from it as opposed to having them embrace it. The book’s about Judaism but also just about his life growing up in the early 80s in a suburban Jewish community. It’s very powerful and very funny."

He calls the book a primal scream.

"Yeah, it was [laughs]."

Garden State didn’t seem like a primal scream for you.

"Well it was. If you remember I get up on a tractor and scream into a chasm [laughs]."

Of course, you’re right. You, Natalie Portman and Peter Sarsgaard do that. What were you screaming about?

"Just feeling the malaise of being in my mid-20s and having my life be wonderful, but feeling depressed and lost, and not knowing why. Dying for someone to come along and rescue me and open my eyes to the miracle of being alive. In the case of Garden State I wrote that in this sort of angel character that is this young girl who is just like sent from God. She comes and rescues him from himself. So that’s what it was about."

When you say “depressed”, are you a depressive person?

"I’ve definitely suffered from depression at times in my life. It’s something I deal with. Not always, but anyone who suffers from depression knows that it hits you at times like a flu. So I think some of that comes across in Garden State."

Some people believe that depression and creativity are connected.

"Well I do think, as awful as it is, your best art comes out of it. I wrote Garden State at probably the saddest time of my life. It’s scary because you all of a sudden go, ‘My life’s perfect and I’m so happy. Everything’s great. Why am I just sad?’ That’s when you know you suffer from depression, when you can’t find the reason why you’re sad. It’s sort of a chemical thing. So it is a bit of a burden but at least it’s good for some art [wry laugh]."

Do you find doing art therapeutic and cathartic?

"Yeah, I think so. It’s definitely cathartic to write about what you’re feeling and then be able to share it with people. And then the best thing in the world is when people go, ‘Oh my God, I can relate,’ and you go, ‘Thank God, I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not a lunatic.’ If you can create something out of your own sadness, and then have millions of people go, ‘Wow, that movie changed my life. Wow, I related to that. Wow, that movie made me cry. Wow, that’s so me,’ that makes you feel like you’re human and you’re normal."

And if you also felt quite lonely - which I think is how you have described the period when you wrote Garden State - does that kind of response also give you kind of a sense of community?

"It does. It does feel like a communal thing. I’m on MySpace now and the internet on these sites trying to stay in touch with my fans. It does feel like a giant global community of people that can relate. I’m just very loyal to my fans. They’ve been so incredibly supportive of me. So I love that there’s now a technology where you can have a dialogue with your fan base, which is amazing.

"When someone writes you a letter, especially with The Last Kiss, it brings out a lot of emotion. People have written very personal things about an affair they haven’t told anyone about, or the way they felt when they were betrayed. It’s just so moving sometimes that people feel they can entrust this information to me. I think they feel it’s so anonymous. It’s like that old psychologist’s exercise of writing a letter but not sending it. I think people feel like they’re doing that. And this isn’t to say [laughs] to millions of people, ‘All start sending me your problems.’ I don’t want this to be an advertisement like I’m a Dear Abbie! And I should say that most of the mail is not that. It’s letters of encouragement, and people going to see the movie then telling me their reaction.

"And by the way, it’s not all positive. People have plenty of criticism of my work [loud laugh], but it’s always heart felt. I’ve had people write me, ‘I fucking hated the movie’ and then a week later they write back, ‘Alright, I realised why I was so upset, because it hit me too strong. Now, a week later, I can tell you that I didn’t hate the movie, I really liked the movie, but this is why I had this visceral reaction to it.’"

I was taken aback by the brutal honesty of the film. I wasn’t expecting it at all.

"Yeah, well, I just felt like wasn’t it time for a brutally honest film about relationships? I couldn’t believe an American studio was going to release this movie. When I met the producers, I said, ‘Oh, come on, you guys are going wimp out and take all of the grit out of this movie.’ And they didn’t. So I was very pleased - even though it will alienate a lot of the audience. It’s not a giant crowd pleaser this movie. One of the things I wish I had said in the States a little bit more in interviews was, ‘Please don’t go expecting Garden State 2. This is very gritty.’ Not that Garden State was a light-hearted romp, but this movie makes it look like one. This is a very gritty, real movie about relationships, and people shouldn’t go in looking for a broad comedy."

Do you think the attitude to marriage has changed since your parents’ generation? This film seems to suggest that there is a lot more scepticism around it today.

"I think so, because people don’t stay married now. The thing about marriage was you stayed in it even when it wasn’t working. Maybe that’s worse, I don’t know. It seems to me that there’s an attitude about people getting married now that’s like, ‘Well, I want to do it, I want to have kids. Let me try it out, see how it goes.’ And I’m not saying that’s wrong but it’s definitely a new way of looking at it."

I wonder if it’s part of this culture of disposability that we have now. If something doesn’t work you don’t try to fix it, you throw it away and replace it.

"Once all the taboo of divorce is out of the way, and it becomes so commonplace, then you start to wonder, what is the point of marriage? Personally, I’d love to get married and have kids, so I’m not anti marriage. But I think one of the things the movie does in interesting ways is say, ‘Then what is the point of the contract?’ People say, ‘Well if you’re going to have kids, it’s good for the kids.’ Well, is joint custody and divorce? That’s what I did. Is that good for the kids? I went a week and a week, back and forth."

You did?

"Yeah. Every Sunday I moved houses."

Crikey.

"Yeah, crikey’s right [said sadly]. So the movie doesn’t try and answer all these questions but I think in a really great way it asks the questions about commitment, life long commitment, monogamy and why men in their 30s - and women too, although this is told from the male perspective - have this fear of that commitment."

Yes, although people are focusing on your character, Michael, the women in the film are just as anxious about marriage and about what that commitment means as the men.

"Yeah, they’re very anxious about it. In this particular film it manifests itself in them being neurotic and distrustful of it as well. I think in a comedic way Sex and the City was years of the female perspective of fear of marriage and commitment, blah, blah, blah. This is sort of a much more dramatic male perspective of that same anxiety. But I don’t think it’s a male thing. I think men get a lot more crap for it, for being afraid of commitment, but I think women have it as well."

How old were you when your parents divorced?


"I was eight."

How do you think it has affected or informed your view of relationships and marriage?

"It just made me very sceptical of whether or not it’s possible. But then my parents are both so crazily, happily re-married the second time. So maybe you have to get through your first time to get to your second time. I don’t know. I don’t have any answers. For me it was a very painful thing, as an eight year old, to have them get divorced. But they’re wonderful and, um, did everything they could have done to make it easy. I mean I joke about joint custody being hard, and it was, but the alternative was not having my father in my life or going once a weekend. So, to my father’s credit, it was very important to him to have joint custody of us."

Were they still in the same town?

"Yeah, they did that on purpose so we were in the same school system. We could all go to the same school."

Were you and your siblings still altogether at home?

"Well, it’s sort of two waves. I have two older brothers and my sister was just a little older. So my brothers didn’t deal with that so much as my sister and me."

I have read you say you wanted to make your first film before you were 30, and Garden State was about a man dealing with his 20s. The Last Kiss is about a man about to turn 30, and in interviews you have said that now you’re 31, it’s perhaps time to start a new chapter. You do seem quite focused on age.

"I think I’m just afraid of dying [laughs]. I think I’ve always been, oddly, for some reason, without being too crazy, just very conscious of how fast I feel life is moving and I feel like every year I get older, it moves quicker. There’s just an idea in my own mind to do as much as I can and live life. I’m not a big believer in the after life. I mean if it happens it will be a nice cherry on top, but I really believe that this is it and want to do as much as I can. Maybe I’m hard on myself because I don’t want to stop and want to live life to the fullest."

Are you hard on yourself about the work that you do and the choices that you make?

"Very hard. I am consumed with my work. It’s the most important thing right now in my life. So I’m very hard on myself about it."

Can you watch yourself on film or on TV?

"Yeah, I watch what I do and I sometimes think it’s funny, and sometimes think it’s awful [laughs]. You know, my friends tease me that I laugh harder at myself on Scrubs than anybody else does. I think that’s because it’s the exact bull’s-eye of my sense of humour. So even though it’s me I laugh at it because even if it was someone else I would still be laughing. I find it very funny [laughs]. But yeah, I’m very critical of myself."

Growing up were there high expectations placed on you that you had to live up to?

"Um, I’ve just always had a lot of drive to be better and better at this. I never played sports, none of that ever interested me, so my competitive drive, I guess, came with trying to be an actor and trying to be a filmmaker. I just want to be really good. And I don’t think I’m good yet. I think I’m passable, but I want to get better and better [laughs]."

And your work seems to be getting darker and darker. You’re working on an adaptation of the Dogme movie Open Hearts, which is pretty heavyweight stuff.

"Yeah, it’s going to get even darker [laughs]. I wrote on my blog, ‘Open Hearts is going to make The Last Kiss look like Naked Gun’, because there were people who commented, ‘Oh, The Last Kiss is so dark, it was not what we were expecting form you.’ I wrote back [laughs], ‘Well get ready because I’m going to make a really dark film.’"

How are you going to do it because obviously the original was made according to the austere Dogme rules?

"Yeah, the first thing I’m doing is un-Dogmefying it. I love the movie but I’m not a fan of shaky video camera. As you can see from Garden State, I really love film and composition and structure. [Getting excited] When I saw Open Hearts, I thought, it’s like a play . . . it’s like Glengarry Glenross. When you see Glengarry Glenross, it’s six guys in a room talking. And it’s a very small story. But in so many ways it’s about everything a man can go through in his life. I saw that in Open Hearts. It’s a very small story - it’s about a car accident and how it affects these two families – it could be a play, and at the same time it is about everything that a man and a woman can go through in their lives. It covers fate and lust and love and loneliness and depression and joy, all in a little hour-and-a-half movie. I was just so blown away by it. I thought, ‘Wow, no one in my country watches subtitled Dogme Danish movies. I could bring an American version of that to the screen.’"

Part of the challenge must be to keep it from slipping into melodrama.

"That’s the trick. I thought they did that in a pretty effective way yet those Dogme movies are so heavy handed. So yeah, one of the things I’m doing in my adaptation is finding a couple of moments to lighten it up a little bit. I don’t think you can sustain that note the whole time. I’m making the kids a little funnier and adding some humour to it. By no means making it light hearted, but I have found in the work that I have done that you can’t sustain that – it’s like a whole movie of shouting – you have to have moments of levity."

Part of your character Michael’s anxiety in The Last Kiss comes from turning 30. How was it for you in the end? Was it as bad as you might have feared?

"Um, I don’t miss my 20s at all. My 20s were rough. I learned a lot and I feel very lucky in what’s happening in my life now. So I don’t, like, miss my 20s. But there is a feeling when you get to be 31 of no more playing around, you’re an adult. You know, there’s a Colin Hayes song, ‘Waiting for my real life to begin’. Well, your real life’s begun. So are you going to live it or are you going to obsess about the past? Or are you going to worry that life is short? I think for me, turning 31 was like, ‘This is it’. It’s kind of like the line in Garden State, ‘This is it. This is life. So what are you doing?’"


©Stephen Applebaum, 2006