The Piano Tuners of Strange Imagery: An Interview with the Brothers Quay

From time to time, I'll be excavating unedited versions of interviews that aren't otherwise available online. To that end, here's the first draft of my conversation with the Brothers Quay. Because I was unable to record our call, there aren't many direct or in-depth quotations, but I took as many notes as I possibly could. The finished edition appears in the 4/07 issue of Resonance, which ceased publication in 2/08.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Welcome to a shadow world where plastic dolls walk, stuffed rab-
bits juggle, and dead opera singers return to life. That description
can only apply to the handiwork of filmmaking twins Stephen and Timothy Quay (born 1947), better known as the Brothers Quay.

Starting in January, a program of their short films will be traveling to select US cities. The British Film Institute has also produced a double-disc set, The Quay Brothers: The Short Films 1979-2003, which trumps Kino’s single-disc The Brothers Quay Collection: Ten Astonishing Short Films 1984-1993. Due in April from Zeitgeist, the new set includes 13 re-mastered films plus commentaries, an interview, and promotional spots.

Although many twins like to assert their unique personalities, that
doesn't seem to be the case with the Quays. Mention that their entries at the Internet Movie Database are identical, and they con-
firm that their filmographies are exactly the same. Frankly, they would prefer a single entry, suggesting, "If we write 10 letters, and
your friends write 10 letters, maybe we can get them to change that." (Over the line, it's impossible to tell the difference between the two friendly voices—if only telephones were stereophonic!)

Like Joseph Losey, Richard Lester, and Stanley Kubrick,
the Quays moved to England and never looked back. Born
in Norristown, PA, they left for London in 1969. The lure: The Royal College of Art. So, do they feel an affinity with their cin-
ematic predecessors? "Not really,” they answer, almost sad-
ly. "We're just not in the same league." (Au contraire, mes dears.)

What about fellow expatriate Terry Gilliam? "We know Terry,
but he we know him as a friend rather than a fan," they explain. That said, once Gilliam signed on to executive produce The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes (2005), in which Catherine Breillat favorite Amira Casar (Romance, Anatomy of Hell) plays the doomed opera
singer, financing fell into place. For that, they remain eternally grateful. After all, 10 years have passed since their full-length deb-
ut, the haunting Institute Benjamenta with future Borg Queen Al-
ice Krige, Mark Rylance (Angels & Insects, Intimacy), and Fass-binder fixture Gottfried John, who returns in The Piano Tuner.

With the extensive in-cam-
era effects that populate their
pictures, amongst other fac-
tors, their features tend to
take longer to complete than those of fellow innerspace explorers Michel Gondry and
Guy Maddin. (The latter, in
his Piano Tuner review for Film Comment, proclaims it “absolutely entrancing!!!")

The Quays, however, are in no rush to start in on a third,
though it isn't out of the question. "We have an idea for some-
thing," they hint. For now, they’re focusing on two installations. "One is in a castle in the north of England, outside of Newcastle." Their task is to fill one of the 25 rooms as they see fit, "to respond to
the space itself." The second is for a Leeds opera celebrating
the 400th anniversary of Claudio Monteverdi‘s L’orfeo.

Film, however, is always on their minds, and the brothers men-
tion that they're working on a television project, an adaptation
of Bruno Schultz's Sanatorium under the Sign of the Hourglass (1937). Throughout their career, the Quays have often turned
to the Polish writer, along with Franz Kafka, Lewis Carroll, and Robert Walser, while artistic inspirations include Max Ernst, Francis Bacon, Hieronymus Bosch, and M.C. Escher. For The Street of Crocodiles (1986), their most acclaimed short, they adapted Schultz, and for the B&W Institute Benjamenta (1995), they took on Walser's 1909 novel Jakob von Gunten.

In filmmaking terms, the name most often associated with the Brothers Quay is that of Jan Švankmajer, whose latest prov-
ocation is the gleefully wacked Lunacy (2006). Do they remain
in contact with the Czechoslovakian master? "He's a man we made
a documentary about [1984's The Cabinet of Jan Švankmajer], and we occasionally meet at film festivals and the like, which is always a pleasure, but we're not in touch. He's just a giant. We
see him more as a teacher and a model." If they had to name one
influence, they insist, it would actually be Polish surrealist-turned-softcore artist Walerian Borowczyk (1923-2006).

Like Švankmajer and Borowczyk, did the Quays always intend
to combine animation with live action? (Actors appear in a few shorts, but usually only fleetingly.) "We grew up watching featur-
es and still do," they reply. "It's like a short story writer, who de-
cides he wants to write a novel or a composer who decides he wants to write a symphony. Working in animation allowed both
of us to assemble, to learn all the métiers involved in directing."

Click here to watch the video for His Name Is Alive - "Can't Go Wrong Without You"

The brothers have also directed commercials, MTV promos, and
the 1988-93 "Stille Nacht" video series, featuring the music of Michael Penn and His Name Is Alive (starring a decrepit doll and dexterous bunny). Other efforts of interest: the brothers collab-
orated with Aardman Animations on Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgeham-
mer” video and contributed an un-credited sequence to fellow puppeteer Julie Taymor’s Oscar-nominated Frida biopic (2002).

This brings us to computer-generated effects. Are they using more now than when they started out? "No," they
say. Though they shifted from
35mm to high-def, they es-
chew CGI. "Everything is in-camera." Instead, they do "digital replacements” with blue and green screens. Was The Piano Tuner easier to make,
then, because of their experience with Institute Benjamenta?
"Not at all," they lament. "It was like a nail in our coffin. Because
it was so esoteric, it didn't pave the way for a second feature."
(Zeitgeist plans to release The Piano Tuner on DVD in 2007.)

One of the duo’s finest films, Anamorphosis (1991), a mini-
documentary about perspective in art, features the intrigu-
ing phrase, "An image grasped too quickly might not leave a
lasting impression." That could almost be a description of their work. "Yes," they readily agree. "It's a very good term. We're
trying to create a web of sense." But their favorite moviemak-
ing quote comes from Federico Fellini. They paraphrase: "Our duty as storytellers is to bring people to the station.
There each person will choose his or her own train…but
we must at least take them to the station”…with the help
of a few dolls, a stuffed rabbit, and a reanimated opera singer.

Endnote: The Short Films of the Brothers Quay play
SIFF Cinema on 11/23, as part of Zeitgeist: The Films of Our
Times. The 13-film series, which marks the indie distributor's
20th anniversary, continues through 11/26. SIFF Cinema is located
at 321 Mercer St. in McCaw Hall. For more information, please
call 206-633-7151. While I'm at it, click here for my chat with
Michel Gondry and here for David Lynch. Images from
Time Capsules, Sliced Bread Animation, and Culture Snob.

Two Words of the Same Length: David Lynch

From time to time,
I'll be excavating
unedited versions
of interviews that
aren't otherwise
available online.

To that end, here's
the first draft of my
conversation with
David Lynch. The
finished edition ap-
pears in the 4/07 issue of Resonance, which ceased publication in 2/08.

***** ***** ***** 

Emerging 30 years ago with a little black and white picture called Eraserhead, David Lynch (born 1946) hit the scene fully formed. 

No matter that it took six years to make and featured a then-unknown Jack Nance as the shock-headed Henry Spencer, the thing looked fantastic and scarred the psyche everyone who saw it.

Lynch may not have been the first to capture the horror of
nightmares, but few have given equal time to the beauty—
like the Lady in the Radiator's "In Heaven" lullaby. The list
of fans is impressive in and of itself: Stanley Kubrick, Charl-
es Bukowski, and the Pixies, who even covered the number.

In looking at his career since, it's easy to get lost in the past.
Like wandering through a bazaar, there's so much to see and
to explore. Instead of trinkets, the stalls are filled with books
(Catching the Big Fish), comic strips (The Angriest Dog in the
World), television shows (Twin Peaks), and movies. And not
just any movies, but some of the most iconic ever made.

From cult classics (Blue Velvet) to unconventional bio-pics
(The Elephant Man) to literary adaptations (Wild at Heart)
to the ultimate poison pen letter to his beloved Hollywood
(Mullholland Dr.), Lynch is always surprising, never pred-
ictable. And that's to say nothing of the paintings and phot-
ographs. Getting lost in such a rich past, then, is an under-
standable impulse. The thing is: David Lynch doesn't live
there. While he does revisit certain themes (parallel
worlds) and visual tropes (finger snaps and flicker-
ing lights), he never makes the same movie twice.

With INLAND EMPIRE, Lynch takes his biggest leap yet into
the unknown. Three hours long, shot on digital video and self-dis-
tributed, it represents his riskiest move since, well, Eraserhead.
As tempting as it may be to dub the work "experimental," IN-
LAND EMPIRE comes as close to Art as any movie ever has,
yet is still recognizably a Film. Laura Dern, playing an actress
on the verge of a comeback, is the thread that ties it all togeth-
er. Sadly, the vehicle meant to re-launch her career just hap-
pens to be cursed. Or so says director Jeremy Irons.

Of course, there's more to it than that. There's also a Pol-
ish prostitute, a rabbit-headed family, a howling monkey,
a glittering mansion, a gloomy ranch house and last, but
certainly not least, the inimitable Harry Dean Stanton.

Raised in Washington and Montana and schooled in Pennsylvania, Lynch may call California home, but he's never lost that North-
western charm. You can easily imagine him walking into a diner anywhere in the world, ordering a cup of joe, and exclaiming, as Agent Cooper famously used to, "That's some damn fine coffee!"
(He even sells his own beans at DavidLynch.com.) Resonance
was pleased as punch to chat with this American legend.

The Venice Film Festival
recognized you with their
Future Film Festival Dig-
ital Award. Then, the Nat-
ional Society of Film Crit-
ics followed with a special
award for Best Experim-
ental Film, i.e. "To David Lynch's labyrinthine INLAND EMPIRE, a magnificent and maddening experiment with digital video possibilities." Do you see INLAND EMPIRE as experimental?
No. Every film is an experiment in a way, but to me, it's a straight-
ahead film, although I know what people are talking about. I don't
even know what an experimental film is, so when they say that
I don't know what that is—I don't know if anybody knows.

It's like when people describe The Straight
Story as "conventional." A film about a man
who drives a tractor across the country, by
its very nature, can't be conventional.
Right, it's a different kind of thing.

Do you think it will scare some people away, to hear INLAND EMPIRE described as experimental?
Labels are interesting. I think, for some people, if you say
it's a straight-ahead narrative, they might get upset. Then
you say it's experimental, and other people say: I don't want
to see an experimental film. It's a film. Cinema can tell many
different kinds of stories, and I like a story, but I like one that
holds abstractions. To me, it's a film—but it's shot on DV.

To what extent was Laura Dern (Blue Velvet, Wild at
Heart), who plays Nikki Grace and her alter-ego, Susan
Blue, involved with the conception of her characters?
You get an idea and the idea brings the char-
acter and how the character is. It just pops in
your head, and there it is. I talked to Laura.
She reads a scene and gets a feel for it, and
then we talk or do some rehearsals. She zer-
oes in on that same idea—and away we go.

You shot a monologue,
woven throughout the
film, in which Blue speaks
to a detective. Did you
originally intend to
release it as a short?
I don't like to say what came first, because it doesn't matter. If you talk to any writer who ev-
er wrote an original screenplay, it never comes all at once. It would be beautiful if it did. It unfolds, and there it is. The less people know when they go into a film the better. In the begin-
ning, I got ideas for scenes and didn't know if this would be a feature. I didn't really think about it. Then I start thinking about these scenes, and another thing came that united them. When that happened, I wrote a lot. It was a more traditional shoot after that.

Now that it's one piece, will that monol-
ogue always exist as part of INLAND EM-
PIRE and never as a separate entity?
I think so. There might be parts of it that could be an extra thing.

Why did you cast Julia Ormond (Legends of the Fall),
who plays the mysterious Doris Side? In the 1990s,
she was in a lot of movies, and then—nothing.
She was right for the part, and she's a great actress.

At one point, she was perceiv-
ed as an ingénue, which she
definitely isn't in your film.
The thing is, like when you say exper-
imental film, people like to label things
and to pigeonhole people. Actresses who
get pigeonholed, they die the death a
little bit, because a good actor can do
so many things, but they don't get the
chance if they've been typecast.

In movies like Mulholland Dr. and INLAND EM-
PIRE, where you're looking at actresses in Hol-
lywood, are you thinking of any real-life figures
or other movies, like Sunset Blvd., or are these 
scenarios strictly from your imagination?
No. You know, it's weird. Even though I'm right there in
the city, the idea comes. It has nothing to do with anything
that I've necessarily experienced or heard stories about.

Rabbits (2002), a series that centers on a hare-headed
family debuted on your website. Did you always plan to
incorporate some of that footage into a feature film?
No. Things happen and one thing leads to another. It's
strange that way. And again, it's the same if you wrote
something. No one would ever know the number of id-
eas that get thrown away in the process of writing a
script. Lots of things come in, but when you're work-
ing to make it whole, lots of things fly out. You do
something and it percolates, and then things
grow out of that. It happens all the time.

You released a DVD 
collection this year, 
Dynamic:1. Does it 
feature Rabbits?
There’s no Rabbits in
that. It includes other
things from the site.

Having worked in television with Twin Peaks,
On the Air, and Mulholland Dr., which had
its genesis in TV, have you had your fill?
Yes, because the internet is here, and the internet will be the
television station for everybody, and you can make a contin-
uing story if you want to do that. With advertising and the like, TV
is just a giant corporate thing. It's not a place to go, not for me.

Aside from the fact that it looks cool, why do you think
directors like yourself, Jonathan Glazer (Sexy Beast),
Richard Kelly (Donnie Darko), and others are gravitat-
ing towards humanoid characters with rabbit heads?
When you get an idea and you're rolling things around, even if it seems strange, in these stories, they do a thing. You find they fit in there. The thing about cinema is, it says something and a lot of times what it says is without words. It's abstract, and it goes in a wordless place, where there's an intuitive logic. It goes like that, and you've got to trust that as you're working. So there it is.

You seem to take a similar approach to music.
Nina Simone's "Sinnerman," for instance, plays
a key role in INLAND EMPIRE. It's been used
in other films, like Cellular and Miami Vice,
but not in the same way. Are you a fan?
Oh yeah, but I hadn't heard that song for a long time. A friend
of mine made a CD for me, and it was there. I started listening
to it while we were shooting, and that whole thing [a dance se-
quence] popped into my head. Nina Simone is so incredible.

You also make use of Beck's "Black Tambour-
ine" when Blue is running from an assailant.
Did you always have that song in mind?
A couple of years before, when thinking about
working on INLAND EMPIRE, I heard it.
The whole song just married to the scene.

You've mentioned that you were
listening to the German industri-
al metal band Rammstein while
making Lost Highway. What
were you listening to while
making INLAND EMPIRE?
I sometimes play things through
the headphones. I listened to a
lot of [Krzysztof] Penderecki
and other Polish composers.

Certain artists have come to be associated with your
work, such as Julee Cruise (Twin Peaks) and Chris Is-
aak (Wild at Heart). What attracted you to them?
I heard Chris Isaak about the time we were shooting Blue
Velvet. You hear some music, and it just fits in the world.
Chris was fantastic. In Blue Velvet, his lyrics aren't in there.
They would send me tracks, so I could use what I wanted.
In fact, they re-recorded some of their stuff. He's got a
certain kind of thing that marries to some things I do.

You have a lot of respect for Kubrick, who later used Isaak for Eyes Wide Shut.
Kubrick used Penderecki and [György]
Ligeti before I did, so it comes around.

You're distributing INLAND EMPIRE through your own company. Why?
We distribute Eraserhead and the short films through
Absurda. My friend who runs the site built a whole
conduit, so we were thinking we could do it for IN-
LAND EMPIRE. It was built with very good rel-
ationships, so I'm not doing it myself. I've got a
great bunch doing it and helping me. I think it
would be good to do it [that way] from now on.

In the past you've avoided director commentaries,
yet it's been reported that you intend to buck your
own tradition with INLAND EMPIRE. Is this a one-
time occurrence, owing to the unique nature of
the film, or do you plan to revisit other works?
Absolutely never will happen!

That just goes to show you stick to your word.
I might tell some stories, but anything that putrefies the
experience I'm against. So much of the modern world is
add-ons and extras. I feel the film gets lost, and it’s a sadness.

When you get those inevitable questions about a film's meaning, how do you respond?
I don't talk about it. Most people know that already,
so they leave me alone.

Have you ever had someone get angry and
try to force an explanation out of you?
I always tell them they know more than they think they know. It just goes that way. If it's not exactly surface and straight-ahead, then lots and lots of interpretations pop up.

Not all copy editors have gotten the memo,
but INLAND EMPIRE is meant to be spelled
using all caps. What's the significance?
It looks more correct that way. They're two such beauti-
ful words and they both have the same number of letters.

Endnote: In addition to Lynch, issue #53 of Resonance features
"Songs Destroyed by Lynch," a sidebar Kris Kendall and I crafted,
and my minimalist interview with the Brothers Quay (I wasn't able
to record our call), which I'll be posting in the months to come.

Images from DonalForeman.com ("Dublin Guest Stars"), Serial Consign ("The Black Lodge"), The Guardian ("What Is David Lyn-
ch's INLAND EMPIRE About?"), Stop Smiling ("Man with a Mov-
ie Camera"), and Collider (an interview with Lynch and Dern).

For the Price of One: A Chat with Mark and Jay Duplass, Part Six

Click here for part five

Kathy: I want to go backwards a little bit. Steve kind of touched on this, but you were talking about how you have to think on your feet when you’re filming, and that’s part of the story. You see them writing the script; they’re thinking on their feet, so you’ve got your process built into the film, but I’m also wondering with your cast—and I’m guessing that maybe Greta doesn’t fit this description—but to what extent do they feel like under-employed actors? To what extent do the other three feel like, ‘We should be getting more work, darn it.’

Mark: I think all of them feel that way to a certain extent.

Kathy: It does seem very sincere.

Mark: Greta exudes confidence, and she is good, and
I exude confidence and we’re all okay, but we’re vain,
and we would love to be getting hired all the time.

Kathy: The fact that they weren’t more famil-
iar to me made it seem more real. I looked up
Ross’s credits, and he’s done a lot of stuff—
more than I realized—but because I didn't
recognize him, it seemed more realistic.

Mark: That’s the key. That was the reason we couldn’t
do this as a studio movie about under-employed actors.

Kathy: It wouldn't work with Julia Roberts. And the
fact that Ross, to me—and I can’t be the first one to say
this—looks like Dermot Mulroney just makes it better.

Mark: He does! [laughs]

Kathy: That reminds me
a little bit of Michael Shan-
non, because if you look at
Michael’s credits, he did
Bug, he did Before the
Devil Knows You’re
Dead, and now people
know who he is, but he’s
been in all these movies I’ve seen, and I never…

Above right: Shannon in Shotgun Stories

Mark: That’s true. You never knew the name.

Kathy: Exactly. Why would it take me so
long to—it’s the same thing with Ross.

Steve: Did there come a point when you had to tell the
actors, ‘Don’t act too well, because if you act too prof-
essionally, you’ll start to look like professional actors.'

Jay: We never went along that line. We just worked
with their motivations in the moment. As long as they’re
not at the comedy; as long as they’re just playing it straight,
playing it serious, then they’re always on the right note.

Kathy: I think that’s also how Judd Apatow's sets work, which is interesting because they’re on a bigger-budget level than yours.

Mark: But there’s a similarity there. A lot of those guys are
big fans of our movies—of actors and stuff like that—and they've
said similar things, so I think it is. I think you’re right.

Jay: It’s pretty similar. They just have 400
times as much money. Maybe more than that…

Mark: Or 4,000. We met
Jonah Hill at SXSW one year,
and he was like, ‘Every day
on our lunch break, while we
were shooting Knocked Up, we
watched The Puffy Chair.’

Left: Katherine Heigl and
Seth Rogen in Knocked Up


Jay: We were like cool…
but that movie sounds
stupid, and then it be-
came this gigantic hit.

Kathy: I’m sure you’ve gotten this question before,
and unfortunately I didn’t write down the name of
the company, but I’ve seen your short This Is
John, and there’s a commercial on TV that is
your short. How do you feel about that?

Mark: We knew it would happen at some point, and I don’t nec-
essarily believe they ripped it off. I believe the idea was in the zeit-
geist, it was in the atmosphere, and could actually have been in-
spired. It’s so there. We actually—when we made the short, we did
talk about how it would make a great commercial at some point.

Kathy to Steve: I don’t know if you watch much TV, but there’s
a commercial… They have a short, and it’s just Mark, and he’s
trying to leave an answering message, and it just gets…crazy.

Mark: He’s trying to perfect his personal greeting.

Steve: What product are they selling?

Kathy: A phone, if I’m not mistaken—
some kind of cell phone service.

Jay: Yeah, at some point, we were like,
you know, we should try to sell this as a
commercial idea, because it’s going to hap-
pen soon…but somebody already did.

Steve: You’ve already talked in this interview
about the Seattle audience. There’s a huge at-
tempt by the authorities to tempt people to
make films here. Have you ever consider-
ed Seattle as a venue for making a film?

Mark: Absolutely. I was here last year shooting this movie
called True Adolescents that, I mean, literally I was here for
five weeks and not only do you get all the distinct, different
neighborhood looks and feels, but we went out to Forks and
shot at the beaches out there. It was incredible. I’ve never
seen Northwest weather to be like that, and it's amazing.
I would just say we would probably do it during the
summer, so we don’t get rained on.

Steve: You get money.

Right: Maggie Brown and Am-
ber Hubert in We Go Way Back

Mark: Yeah, they have
breaks and stuff like that.

Kathy: Have you seen [Lynn Shelton’s] We Go Way Back?

Mark: Lynn’s film? Yeah.

Kathy: Because she does a great job—and the same with Old Joy, although that’s Oregon. Both of those films get all that nature in there, and it becomes part of the story. It’s not just scenery.

Steve: What’s Lynn like to work with as a director?

Mark: I’ll know in about two weeks. [laughs] But so far, and I’m not just saying this, she’s unbelievably respectful, and there are ‘dude’ characters in this movie, as well [My Effortless Brilliance was a dude movie], and she’s looking to the dudes to tell her what dudes are like, so she's very—she just listens, and takes our ideas, and that’s how the storyline comes about. She’s very similar to how Jay and I work; a little more loose in structure, but a little less plot and genre-oriented, because Jay and I like to pound, pound towards the audience. Hers is gonna be a little more ‘floaty’ in that Old Joy way, but the same ethic, in terms of letting the actors lead.

Kathy: Did you do scenes with Melissa Leo in True Adolescents?

Mark: I did. Our agent just ended up signing her.
We’ve been big fans of hers for a long time.

Kathy: Did you see Frozen River when
you were at Sundance? She’s very good.

Mark: Still haven’t seen it. We didn’t get to see
any movies at Sundance, because we were so
busy. It was a totally different experience.

Jay: We’ve actually enjoyed the festival here. Sundance,
for better and worse, it’s a market, and we had no idea the
amount of press and not only that, but what is involved
when your film starts to sell and you start meeting people…

Mark: It was our second feat-
ure there, and that was the dif-
ference. When we showed The
Puffy Chair, we had only
shown shorts and done
a couple of interviews.

Above: Mark in This Is John

Jay: We premiered late, and no one even knew what it was.

Mark: We got there [this time], and everyone knew who we
were, and everyone had expectations, and it was intimidating.

Steve: I have the most unprofessional question anyone has ev-
er asked, but I’ve wanted to know this since I was six, but in your
film, there’s a part in it, in which a girl gets her 'baps' out. At what
point in the screening process does the actress find this out?

Mark: Luckily, Greta was not really worried about
that too much. She has a history in cinema…

Steve: I always wanted to know this, and you’re the first guys I’ve
asked. I didn’t think Sergei Bodrov [Mongol] would answer.

Mark: We were talking to her, and we were like, ‘You
know, you don’t really have to do this,’ and she was
like, ‘I don’t care. I’ll do it. I can get fully naked.’

And with that we wrapped up our interview, and Mark and Jay
Duplass went off into the damp Seattle afternoon. I'm happy to
say the weather had cleared up by the time Mark returned
later that summer to appear in Lynn Shelton's Humpday.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Endnote: Baghead continues to expand across the US.
Please click here for a list of release dates. Image from
The Austin Chronicle, CSPV, and The Duplass Brothers.

For the
Price of
One:
Part
Five





A Chat with Mark and Jay Duplass (click here for part four)

“Well-made and genuine, yet also simplistic and unre-
markable. That is just what its makers intended it to be."
-- Neil Morris, Indy Week

Here's a continuation of the interview Prost Amerika's Steve
Clare and I conducted with writer/directors Mark and Jay
Duplass at this year’s Seattle International Film Festival.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Kathy: I have a question about time and not budget. What
were the lengths of the shoots for The Puffy Chair, Baghead,
and The Do-Deca-Pentathlon? How did they compare?

Mark: Puffy Chair was a three-week shoot initially, and then
we did a week of re-shoots and some road footage. And then
Baghead was straight three weeks—a little easier to shoot.

Kathy: That sounds really short.

Jay: Baghead was three weeks, no days off, re-
shooting consistently for all that time. To me
that was the issue. We did so much work.

Mark: And Do-Deca was four and a half weeks. A little more time.

Kathy: For you guys that was almost leisurely. I just interviewed David Gordon Green, and that was a question I asked him, as well.

Mark: I love that guy.

Kathy: He’s great. I think George Washington was
between 19 and 21 days or something like that, but
for Snow Angels, he had 45 days, which to him was
incredible. I’m curious as to how these things com-
pare. In comparison, 21 days seems so short.


Mark: We could definitely use some more time. We have a small crew—days are not that expensive—so we’re definitely expanding a little more.

Left: Green with Paul Schneider


Kathy: Do you work weekends, too?

Mark: We work six-day weeks.

Kathy: Green said he works five-day weeks.

Jay: Five days would be incredible, because you know
what’s gonna happen is you work five days and then
one of those weekend days, you have to do re-con.

Mark: Or re-shoots or something on your one
day off. We’re really working seven days a week,
because our day off is for prepping and stuff.

Jay: Our crew gets one day off, but we don’t, but having four
and a half weeks on this last one made a huge difference.

Mark: It’s a bit of a bigger movie. There are more set changes.

Kathy: And it’s through Sony?

Mark: No, we did this all independently.

Steve: What’s next in terms of timeline? This festival
ends, and then it opens in which towns on what dates?

Mark: Baghead starts June 13th in Austin;
then on July 4th, I know it goes to Portland.

Jay: And on July 18th, it’s here. Then it goes to New York and LA after what we consider to be our special cities, the places we want to take it.

Right: Steve Zissis, Elise
Muller, and Greta Gerwig.

[After this interview Sony moved the Seattle opening to 8/8.]

Steve: We hear you. Make no mistake, as representatives
of the Seattle film industry, you’re preaching to us, because
we like the idea of being the capitol of the independents…

Kathy: But there are still people in Seattle who
need that New York or LA stamp of approval,
and those people are everywhere you go.

Mark: Hopefully, this Baghead thing will work out.

Steve: Well, once we’ve run this interview, they’ll be queu-
ing around the block. All we have to do in Seattle is say these
are nice guys, and they’re not spoiled, and people feel a bond,
because everyone likes to think of themselves as nice people.

Mark: That’s good. We work really hard to present our-
selves as not conceited assholes…that we are. [laughs]

Steve: Which reminds me. On that point, during the ques-
tion-and-answer last night, you called somebody an asshole.
I wanted you to make me a promise that every time you
come back to Seattle, you’ll call somebody an asshole.

Mark: You got it [laughs]

Steve: Even if it’s me.

Kathy: Who did you call an asshole?

Mark: Someone who asked what the budget was.

[Baghead takes to task people who ask this question at festivals.]

Steve: I actually like that he called someone an ass-
hole. So often when stars come up, the questions are
sycophantic and the answers are sycophantic.

Jay: That’s our thing. Q&As can be horrid, but if you
just let it go, and go with how horrid... It’s like what
we were talking about, just trying to keep it fresh.
Don’t feel like you need to give an obvious answer;
give up what’s coming to you at that moment.
That’s something people usually enjoy.

Mark: It’s better than: DVX100AP.

Steve: This is one of the
things—I can’t speak for
Kathy—but I know when
I do an interview, I always
try to imagine how many
interviews you’ve done,
and what you’re sick
of talking about.

Above: Gerwig, Zissis, Ross Partridge, and Muller

Mark: I appreciate that.

Kathy: I try to read as many interviews as I
can beforehand, but you only have so much time.

Jay: You can’t read everything.

Mark: You guys are great

Jay: Yeah, this is a great interview.

Steve: Well, thank you.

Kathy: It probably helps that I saw Baghead a
long time ago, so I’ve had time to think about it.

Steve: I saw it last night, so I’ve not had time to think about it.
Because I end up reviewing so many—as I’m reviewing films, there
has to be a level playing field—unlike Kathy, I never read anything
about a film beforehand… The whole thing was new to me.

Kathy: But reviewers have been pretty good about
not giving the film away. I didn’t know how it was
going to end either, and I liked not knowing.

Jay: That’s one of the most exciting things to us about
the film: the process of discovery. Not only about
what’s going on, but what the movie actually is.

Click here for part six



Endnote: For the record, I disagree with Neil Morris
that Baghead is "unremarkable," but I appreciate what
he's getting at in the quote above. The film doesn't draw
any undue attention to itself, i.e. it isn't flashy or tren-
dy, but that's kind of remarkable in this day and age.

There are no more Seattle screenings, but Baghead con-
tinues to expand across the US. Please click here for a list of
release dates. Images from Sony Classics and Movie Habit.

Crafty Work: Part Three with Bülent Akinci

(for part two, please click here)

Here's the conclusion of my conversation with Bülent Akinci,
the Berlin-based maker of Running on Empty, a fine film more people should have the opportunity to see...but probably won't. We had a pleasant chat, though interviews aren't really his forte. Note that he starts to interview me towards the end. He seemed much more relaxed in that role.

*****

So, what attracted you to [actor] Jens
Harzer? I think he's great, by the way.

He's more famous in the theater world, and in movies where he wasn't the main character— the supporting actor—like Requiem.

I haven't seen that, but I've heard about it. Did it
come out before your film or around the same time?

The same time last year, and now it's at some of the same festivals. I didn't know he had made Requiem, and the director of Requiem didn't know he had worked with me, and he had the main role.

What do you like about what he offers as an actor?

I had the opportunity to look at many stars for this role—many stars wanted it—that I didn't want. I saw him through casting,
and he was so brilliant. He interpreted this role very well, so
then I told him about my many insurance [selling] experiences.

You sold insurance?

[Harzer's character is an insurance salesman.]

For a short time, I was a life insurance man.

I didn't know that.

He did really good work, but he doesn't like movies so much.

He prefers theater?

Yeah, movies are exhausting—too many hours waiting—but he told me when he works
again in movies, he would
like to work just with me.

It's a very physical role. Maybe that tired him out.
And he dances. I love the scene in the [florist] truck.
You did a great job casting the other actors, as well, because each one of them has a moment that's very demanding. I thought the scene in the truck was amazing, because it starts out one way—with him dancing in the back—but then when they're talking
in the cab [Wagner and a client], it's really kind of chilling.

Many people say that.

In that scene, do you see Wagner as an Angel of Death?

Yes.

I like the way you can see that he's either giving this man the chance to do what he wants , which could be seen as a good thing, or he's really horrible for encouraging him to leave his wife and children without a husband and father. I'm glad you didn't put scary music in that scene. And they're both really good. I meant to praise the other actor, too. It's almost like a short film. And the scene
in the car with the French-Algerian character.

This film has a lot of one-plot scenes, like episodes. From
one lonely person to the next lonely person. He understands,
he gets it, basically, bit by bit. His lies become more brutal.

I read a review in Variety—they really liked it—
and the writer points out that he doesn't have a
cell phone. Is that to make it more timeless, or
to make it seem like something that could be set
in the past? I like the use of the telephone booth.

Basically, he's separating himself from everything that's modern, so he doesn't need a cell phone. His life is a lie, so the telephone booth is like a home for him. When he goes there, it's artificial—
not direct—contact. It's more enclosed, kind of like his heart.
They [phone booths] are pretty much disappearing in Germany, just like here. I had to take it [the booth] with me everywhere.

[I'm not sure I heard this part correctly;
the McCaw Hall acoustics were a little dodgy.]

It seems like a motif, because
the diner has these windows, then there are the car windows—we see the world through his windshield—and then we see
him in the booth. There's a lot
of glass around people, and all these homes away from homes. So, I've read a bit about The Flying Dutchman, because
I wasn't that familiar with its history. Were you inspired by a particular version, like the Richard Wagner opera, since his name is Wagner? Or just the general story?

The general story.

I have to ask: Have you seen any of
the Pirates of the Caribbean movies?

One—the first one.

I can't remember if it's in the first, but
there's a Flying Dutchman in the second.

Also, in SpongeBob. [laughs] You know, SpongeBob?

Yeah, but I didn't know...

The Dutchman is like a monster.

That's perfect. So, how can other people see the film?
Do you have any more screenings in the United States?

The first screening was in Dallas. The next is at the Tiburon Film Festival. This film has played on almost every continent, about
20 festivals. Last year, the Sundance Film Festival almost took
it. It was very, very close, and they thought Americans would
take a lot of interest in it. It was really surprising when it wasn't taken, but once Dallas did, it started getting more interest.

Is it on DVD in Germany?

No, maybe next time.

Are you working on another film,
or thinking about another one?

I have many ideas. In three weeks, I'll have the chance to get money for my new project.

If you could, would you include any of your short films with the DVD?

No. They are very crazy
films, a bit like Buñuel
or Eraserhead. Do you
like Eraserhead?

Yes actually, I do. I like it quite a bit. And it's aged
well. I mean, it was a sensation when it came out.
This year marks the 30th anniversary, so there have been a lot of screenings in the States, and people have been writing about it. I interviewed David Lynch a few months ago, and I think he's still very proud of the film, even though it took years and was difficult to make, because he had no money. It holds up really well.

Have you seen INLAND EMPIRE?

Yes, I've seen it twice, and it's amazing that 30 years have passed, yet it has some of the same ideas as Eraserhead.

Like the dreams?

[I'm not sure I heard this correctly.]

Kind of. Even though it's shot on video... It's
interesting for a filmmaker at this stage of his
career in that's it's one of his most experimental
films, whereas many of his peers have gotten more
commercial over the years. Except instead of being
short like Eraserhead, it's three hours of strange stuff.

It plays in Germany in four weeks.



There's a whole Polish section, and I just read that
he's starting a sort of museum of his work in Poland.
So, he wasn't just interested in working with Polish actors and shooting in Lodz, but Poland has become really important to him. I don't know where that
came from. So, you may get the chance to see him,
if he's spending more time in Europe. I would think
he would want to be in Germany when the film opens.
He traveled all around the United States with it.

Some critics don't like it, and others say it's one of the best films they've seen in the last [few] years. There's nothing in between.

It's really good. I liked Mulholland Drive better,
though. I had more of an emotional connection
to it. So, what are some of your other favorite films
or filmmakers, even those that didn't directly
influence you? What's really made an impression?

Well, there's Terrence Malick.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately, because
as much as people like his films, it's becoming more apparent how important they are. Even while watching Herzog's Rescue Dawn, his fictional version of Little Dieter Needs to Fly, there are all these images—close-ups of wildlife—that are reminiscent of Malick. You would think, by this point, directors like Herzog would have their own style and their own view of the world, but even people of his generation seem have been influenced by him. I'm starting to see Malick in everybody's films. Filmmakers are paying more attention to nature, the way he does. That's something I really associate with him—man in nature, and that constant battle.

Mostly nature and girls.

That works for The New World, because you have this young native woman, who is despoiled by these people coming from England and Scotland, and they're also building all these things—they're destroying the land.

And they make her wear shoes.

Do you have a favorite Malick film?

Badlands is really good. And The Thin Red Line. And that
other one with Richard Gere [Days of Heaven]. I've seen
every film. [laughs] He's only made four. He's sometimes compared to Stanley Kubrick, but he's warmer and more poetic.

*****

We wrapped things up at this point as his Q&A was on the horizon, but continued to chat for another ten minutes. With my recorder off—and a cigarette in his hand—Bülent Akinci relaxed even more, and talked about working with Peter Greenaway and Wim Mertens.



Endnote: Der Lebensversicherer, AKA Running on Empty, isn't scheduled to open in the US. Nor is it available on DVD. If I could rectify that situation, I would. Here's hoping Akinci's next feature meets with a wider audience. Images from Angelaufen.de, Karlovy Vary Film Festival, Berlinale, and Wikipedia.

Crafty Work: Part Two with Bülent Akinci

For part one, click here

As with Steve Buscemi, I spoke
with writer/director Bülent Akinci
for The Stranger during the 33rd Seattle International Film Festival. In order to keep things brief, I only posted a small portion to Slog. Here is the rest of our conversation. Parts are translated from his native German, hence Akinci's short answers—which make my long questions seem even longer!

*****

I was really struck by the editing of your film [Running on Empty]. I'm assuming you worked with an outside editor?

Yes. Part of how we edited it—I wanted audience members,
at some point, to see things from the character's point of view.

[The film was edited by Tina Baz and Inge Schneider.]

That works really well. I like it that the transitions instead of being smooth, from scene to scene, a lot
of times they would make me go, 'Wait a sec—where
are we, what's going on?' Then they would start to
make sense. I could tell you weren't just going crazy,
but that there was some forethought to what you
were doing. So often filmmakers use cinematography
to disorient the audience, whereas you achieved that effect through editing. And it's also unlike Tom Twykwer, who does a lot of time-lapse stuff. That's
an entirely different technique. Can you think of other films where you might have seen that style of editing?

I also worked [like that] with my short films. I like to
edit my films a little bit like French editing—montage.

The French New Wave?

Yes. I'm always trying to do montage.

There's a documentary at the festival this year
about Walter Murch, who touches on that. He
talks about the scene in Breathless, where two characters are in a car, and instead of the camera
just following them down the street, there's a shot,
then a jumpcut, and then another jumpcut... It
hadn't occured to me you were doing a version
of that. So, because SIFF is focusing on Germany
this year, and also since The Lives of Others won
the Best Foreign Film Oscar, do you feel like
there is a New New Wave in German filmmaking
right now—or some kind of resurgence?

Yes, we saw The Lives of Others winning the Oscar. It has happened many times in Germany. In earlier times, you
had Fassbinder and Werner Herzog—who you mentioned—
now there are so many directors trying different ways of storytelling. Like in America, there are many different ways
to tell a story. In Germany, it's just beginning. I think that's why my film failed. People were not used to seeing that kind of film... Therefore, Tom Twykwer, [Florian Henckel von] Donnersmark, Oscar Riller—they're beginning to start a sort of New Wave.

I've seen a lot of really good German films lately.
The ones that make it to the US usually concern
German history—Downfall, Sophie Scholl, The
Lives of Others—but we don't always get to see
those that are more personal or more intimate.
And these films are fascinating, but I wish we were
seeing more, with the exception of Fatih Akin, who
is doing his own thing. Have you seen his new film?

No. Have you seen it?

No. It [The Edge of Heaven]
just played at Cannes, but
I don't think it's played in
the US yet. Do you think if
you had stayed in Turkey,
you could have done the same things in terms of filmmaking?

[Like Akinci, Akin is a German
citizen of Turkish descent.]

No.

Do you think Nuri Bilge Ceylan is an exception in
getting to make the kinds of films he wants to make?

Turkey is also beginning [to produce] a new wave of
filmmakers, but most of... When you want to be a director,
it's a luxury profession, so most of the directors in these countries—poor countries—come from rich families. I don't
come from a wealthy family, so I tried at the beginning of my
life to be a musician, but I failed, so after that I studied film.
In Turkey, I don't think I would've had that opportunity.

So, it's more democratic [for directors] in Germany?

Yes.

It's good your parents moved there. [laughs]

Endnote: Part three to come. Images from Spielfilm.de (Jens Harzer, looking crazy) and The Sofia International Film Festival (Bülent Akinci, looking calm). This marks my 200th post!

Fifteen Minutes With Steve Buscemi

An Interview About Interview: Part Two 

For part one, please click here

In June, I spoke with the actor/director [right, with Michael Pitt in Delirious] for The Stranger. 

It was the last day of my assignment as Seattle International Film Festival contributor, so I quickly transcribed half the interview, and posted the results to Slog. Here is the rest of our short conversation.

*****

Do you see them [characters] in any way as extensions
of your personality? That they represent something that's a part of you anyway—a certain cynicism, or...

[I was referring to Pierre in Interview and Les in Delirious.]

I don't know. I mean, I always just try and put as much of
myself into any character I play, and that's the fun of acting.
I think we all have a range of emotions and different facets
of our personality that maybe we don't always express or
[that we] try to suppress, but it's in there. I think it's in all
of us, and the beauty of acting is that you get to tap into that.

And then walk away.

Yeah.

Is there any part that was hard to get away from? Something about the character—even if it's positive, although I suppose that would indicate it's negative.

Not about the character... A few years ago, I did a film called The Grey Zone. Just the nature of the material, and reading about that whole time [the Holocaust]. That stayed with me for weeks after we stopped filming. It was a really upsetting film to work on.

I'm glad I saw that. It's hard to watch, but—I mean
this as a compliment—it wasn't as hard as I thought
it would be. I was concerned that it would be more
than I could take. So, I think he got that balance right.

Tim Blake Nelson, yeah. [smiles]

So, if I understand correctly, because your film... [is related] in terms of the production, have you actually met with Stanley Tucci and Bob Balaban to talk about their [Theo Van Gogh] films, though they're separate projects? 

Stanley and I are good friends, and he just started shooting his film, Blind Date. But I haven't talked to him since he just got back, and then he went to Toronto to work on another film. Each one was really—the director could do whatever they wanted. There was no consensus. The interesting thing is that all three films were supposed to be shot one after the other using the same crew, but the week before Stanley was about to shoot—because he was supposed to go first—the financer didn't come up with the money, so then it was every man for himself. Since then, Bob Balaban has dropped out, so they're hoping John Turturro will do it.

In the [Interview] credits you mention Robert Altman.

I worked with him a couple of times. Kansas City—I got
to do that film right before I did Trees Lounge. It was a
wonderful thing to have happen. And then Tanner.

What did you like about his work, whether
as an actor in one of his films, or in general?

I like his attitude—he fights hard to make the films he wants to make. He said to me he doesn't care whether they're successful—
he wants them to be successful—but on his terms. He told me this when I met him though Kansas City. Then he corrected himself, and said, "On our terms," so he immediately included me.

That's nice.

And that's what he does. He makes everybody working on
the film feel they're an important part in contributing. And he
gives the actors a lot of responsibility, and the crew, and he's able
to keep his uniqueness. All the best directors I've worked with have a definite style of their own, that they really know how to work well with people, and use their talents to help them.

When Trees Lounge came out, you elicited a lot of comparisons to Cassavetes. Was that just a coincidence, or is he someone you like as well? And you've gotten
that less, I've noticed, as you're developing more of
your own—I don't know if I would say style, but I find people comparing your work less to other directors.

I talked about that in the [Trees Lounge] production
notes. I remember talking about that, and it was put
into the production notes, and I think journalists see
that, and so that's what they talk about. I'm curious if I
had never mentioned it, would I still get the comparisons.

That's a good question, because you did also say—
I've read interviews where you said there's a lot of autobiographical stuff in there. And that's you, not Cassavetes. He had his own biography to draw from.

[And with that, our 15 minutes were up.]

Endnote: Interview and Delirious are playing in limited release. Delirious image from indieWIRE (they hated it; I found it amusing).

The Cinema of Robinson Devor: From Girl Watchers to Horse Fanciers

To commemorate the acceptance of Devor's third feature into the Sundance Film Festival, here's a profile I wrote in September. 

 *****

"The only animal worth making a documentary about is the human."
 --Charles Mudede on March of the Penguins (2005) 

Forget Mr. Ed, forget Equus. Seattle director Robinson Devor's upcoming documentary concerns what has become known locally as the Enumclaw Horse Case. Scheduled for release by THINKfilm in 2007, Zoo (formerly In the Forest There is Every Kind of Bird) draws inspiration from the poor unfortunate--part of a tight-knit ring--who died in 2005 from injuries sustained after engaging in carnal relations with said creature.

Devor confirmed his risk-taking rep with Police Beat (2005). Co-written by Charles Mudede, and based on his long-running crime column in The Stranger, the "blue and green" noir takes an impressionistic look at a week in the life of Senegalese bike cop "Z" (former Junior Olympic footballer Pape S. Niang). The dialogue is in English, Z's inner monologue is in Wolof. 

Manohla Dargis of The New York Times proclaimed the Sundance Grand Jury Prize nominee "dreamily poetic." A DVD release is in the works. 

So when did Devor, who grew up in New York, know he wanted to be a filmmaker? "I directed some theater when I was a junior in high school," he replies. He went to film school in Texas and spent 10 years in Los Angeles, also dabbling in music and poetry. While there, he befriended non-fiction auteur Michael Guccione (no relation to the plastic surgery-obsessed porn magnate). "We did a documentary on Angelyne, the billboard queen." Anointed "a knockout" by The Village Voice, the 1999 short received wide exposure on PBS--plus brisk video sales--and Devor was off. 

He followed with The Woman Chaser (1999), which became a cult item the minute it hit the screen. In this devilishly funny Charles Willeford adaptation, Richard Hudson (Patrick "Puddy" Warburton), used car huckster and wannabe director, oozes his way through post-war Los Angeles--all in glorious black and white. Really, what's not to love? As The New Yorker enthused, it's "wicked and brilliant." Sadly, despite some theatrical and cable action, the stylish noir has not yet made its way to DVD. 

While in Seattle to promote his first feature, Devor "totally fell in love" with the city and relocated from California. Ensconced in the Northwest for five years now, he seeks to excavate, as with Police Beat, more of the region's deepest, darkest secrets--which brings us to Zoo. Why this particular secret, I wondered. Well, the filmmaker sees his role like this: "Somebody shows you a new world, and what you're trying to do is find entrance to that world." 

In his second collaboration with Mudede, Devor delves into an obscure subculture--openly, but with respect. He doesn't disclose the name of the deceased, a 45-year-old aerospace engineer, but the words of his compatriots (identified by email handles) contribute to the narration. Mostly, he raises questions--about bestiality, sodomy, animal cruelty, desire and humiliation. As in the "ecstatic truth" documentaries of Werner Herzog, fact and fiction co-mingle. "It's a big challenge," he readily acknowledges, but the goal is the same: To explore what it means to be human. 

Endnote: This profile was originally written for a publication that pulled the plug due to discomfort with the subject matter. Consequently, it doesn't currently have a home, so thank goodness for blogs. I'm sorry if the topic of Devor's new film makes some people uncomfortable, but I think his track record confirms that exploitation is not his aim. When I have time, I'll transcribe the entire interview and post it to Seattle Film Blog. Images from The Stranger's Slog.