We are very pleased to announce that LAND HO! co-writer-director Aaron Katz will be at the Royal this weekend to participate in Q&A’s after the 7:40 PM screenings on Friday and Sunday, July 11 and 13.
by Lamb L.
We are very pleased to announce that LAND HO! co-writer-director Aaron Katz will be at the Royal this weekend to participate in Q&A’s after the 7:40 PM screenings on Friday and Sunday, July 11 and 13.
by Lamb L.
Acclaimed director of the Roger Ebert doc “Life Itself” STEVE JAMES (Hoop Dreams) sits down for a conversation with Odie Henderson of RogerEbert.com. Excerpted in full:
In 1994, Roger Ebert wrote about Steve James’ “Hoop Dreams”-“A film like “Hoop Dreams” is what the movies are for. It takes us, shakes us, and make us think in new ways about the world around us. It gives us the impression of having touched life itself.” He had no idea that, 20 years later, the director of that film would be the filmmaker behind the movie based on Roger’s memoir, titled with the same phrase that Roger used to describe “Hoop Dreams”-“Life Itself.” The director sat down for an interview in New York City last month.
“Life itself” opens on July 4th in several markets, including here in NYC, and on iTunes and Video on Demand. Is this the version that played at Cannes or the one that played at Sundance?
This is the Cannes version. It basically has a 4-minute section devoted to Roger’s 40-year history of going to Cannes. I think it’s a really great addition to it, because it’s not just fun, although it has a lot of laughs in it. It’s also insightful, because it helps you understand even more why Gene was afraid Roger would leave him behind. Roger did all these Cannes things by himself-he wrote all these pieces from Cannes-and he loved doing it.
I wonder why Gene didn’t go with Roger.
Gene didn’t like going to festivals. I don’t know about his actual Cannes history, but I don’t believe he went there many times. Roger, of course, religiously went to Sundance, Telluride, Toronto and Cannes. Gene’s rationale, as I understand it, was that he wanted to maintain this distance from the filmmakers. Roger didn’t have that same concern. I also think they had a different way in which they engaged with film. Roger lived and breathed it in a way that Gene was proud to say he didn’t.
Speaking of Cannes, let’s talk about “Life Itself”‘s memorable glitch at the Cannes screening. [Note: The Cannes screening was delayed for over 20 minutes when the film suddenly stopped.] Roger was fascinated by technology, especially when it went catastrophically awry. I’m a computer programmer, so Roger and I rarely corresponded about movies. Instead, he always wanted to know when my software demos blew up. I had a lot of stories to tell him, because demos always explode. I was wondering if you knew Roger dug when technology went on the fritz, and if so, did that cross your mind when the Cannes screening went “pffft!”
[Laughs] I didn’t know that! I did think about his reaction after the fact-I’m sure Chaz thought about it during the glitch-and I think, because he loved Cannes so much, that he would have initially been amused by it. Because it went out a minute after the Cannes footage…
…as if it were planned.
Yes! And, it actually happened-pure coincidence-when a guy got up and left. I don’t think he left due to indignity or whatever. He probably had something else to do. He walked out at the front of the theater, and as soon as he walked in front of the screen, the movie went off.
Like he’d kicked out the plug.
That was my first reaction! “Is the plug down there? What the hell?” I think Roger would have been amused by the timing. I was kind of amused at first. And the lights came up immediately, so I thought “oh, they’re dealing with it.” I didn’t know that [the theater] was on a system, so when the screen went off, the lights were set to automatically come up. There was nobody up there in the booth. That part would have made Roger quite angry. He would have cut somebody a new one for that.
Chaz was quick-thinking. She dragged me down to the stage and we did this impromptu Q&A. And all the time during the Q&A, I’m looking up in the booth and I see nothing going on. And we have people out looking for someone. So, I think at that point, Roger would have been infuriated.
It would have made for a great Cannes dispatch from him.
It would have made for an amazing article! At Cannes, of all festivals! But the way it ended-about half of the audience remained with us until the end–the crowd gave us one of the sweetest, most heartfelt ovations I’ve ever experienced at a movie I’ve made. It was really touching, as if we’d all been through something together.
“Life Itself” has been screened all over the world. I’ve been to three screenings in the U.S. so far. It just played AFI Docs on Saturday night, alongside a documentary about General Tso’s Chicken.
I saw that in the listings.
I was curious about that documentary, but it was sold out so I didn’t make the trek down to D.C. I shouldn’t be talking about somebody else’s movie at your interview, though!
[Laughs]
You mentioned Cannes, but is there a particular screening that resonated with you, that really stuck with you as the quintessential screening of Life Itself?
I think the quintessential screening, without doubt, would be the Ebertfest screening. I mean, 1,200 people were there celebrating Roger.
You know, in the process of making this film, we’d do these little impromptu test screenings where we’d gather 20 or 30 people over at Kartemquin to help us make the film clearer, or to see what’s working/not working. We discovered early on in those screenings how much laughter there was going to be in this movie. There were a lot of laugh-out-loud moments. So we began to tweak the timings around the moments we knew would generate real laughs, so that there was enough space [for them]. Someone might say something in the film that was of no great consequence, so if you missed it, it was no big deal. But we noticed that some important things were being missed because of laughter. So we calibrated this for the audience, which you need to do when you have the luxury of this kind of response.
At Ebertfest, people were missing stuff because there were waves of laughter that kept on going. But here it really didn’t matter. It went from this raucous laughter to dead silence, and sniffling, and emotion.
And then, for it to be in hometown, and at his festival. All of that made it the most special screening.
But I’d have to give a second-place shout-out to the Sundance premiere screening. Because I’ve had films at Sundance before, but that was the best screening I ever had. The audience response was like a mini-version of Ebertfest’s response. The audience was with it from the first frame to the last, and it felt like people were there to celebrate Roger and to mourn him.
All your films are superbly edited. What I find fascinating about them is that they have the arc of the best fiction, which is impressive as you have no control over reality; you have to play the hand that you’re dealt. How do you approach that? With Roger’s book, you had kind of a blueprint for “Life Itself.” Did that make your approach any different than, say “Hoop Dreams” or “The Interrupters?”
It did. It definitely made a difference. I really love the way Roger structured the book. It is a man looking back on his life from this vantage point of “here I am now. I can no longer speak or eat, and my life is very different.” And there is this flood of memories. Yet it is informed by life in the present, which he comes back to from time to time. The book is largely linear but not exclusively. I love that about the book.
And so I thought that was a great template, structurally, for approaching the movie. It meant following Roger in the present, to see what his daily life is now. And I’m always fascinated with that anyway, because even if it’s not some big momentous thing going on, just witnessing people in their daily lives can be quite revealing.
So in that sense, the present-day part is more like what I’m used to in my films, which is to follow people. And, as in true in my other films, what happened was unexpected. When we started filming, we did not expect Roger to pass away in four months. And so, that part of the film took on a life of its own, and it made the film about more than what I’d set out to make it. It also made it a film about “how do you die, and how do you do it with courage, with dignity and with humor?”
Roger had a morbid sense of humor, as Chaz points out in the movie. He seems to be enjoying this, giving it the thumbs-up at one point.
Yeah. He says “what kind of third act would it be if I just died suddenly?” I thought, “what an amazing thing for him to say.” One moment I really like is when I say “it makes for a better story” and he gives me this approving look. And it’s not facile. It’s not shallow to me at all. It’s kind of the way he lived his life. He embraced it all, and this part is just another act.
OK, it’s time for the grad school question. I wrote this one down.
[Laughs]
To me, your films focus on how people impact a particular system and vice versa. For example, The Interrupters step in to challenge and diffuse situations that cyclically would lead to violence. In “Hoop Dreams,” the system of basketball, as a means to a better life outside a neighborhood not unlike my own growing up, affects Arthur and William profoundly. In “Life Itself,” Roger the critic throws a monkey wrench into the critical thought process that says an emotional response to a movie is invalid. There’s kind of a cybernetic approach to your subjects. Is that a conscious decision on your part, or is this merely something I read into your films because this is the “grad school question”?
This is my favorite question of the day so far.
So I guess I actually got something out of going to grad school.
[Laughs] You know, what I’ve found out over the years is that I don’t generally set out to do that. With “Hoop Dreams,” I set out to do a film about what basketball means to young people like Arthur and William. That was the original impetus. And not necessarily young kids, but African-American ball players whom I’d had as teammates, played pick-up ball with. As much as I’d loved the dream [of basketball success], and I felt in my own whitebread way that I’d had the dream as strong as one could have it. But I also knew that it wasn’t the same for me as it was for some of the African-American teammates I’d had, or players who came from where you came from, for example. And so I wanted to understand that better.
I didn’t know Arthur and William at this point. But I didn’t set out to do an expose on the business of basketball and how the system reaches down. I really wanted it to be more of a “why does this game mean so much?” And I knew it would take us into places like poverty and lack of opportunity and social issues. But that wasn’t what hooked me initially. It was on a more personal level of why the game meant so much, why it is so important, and to go on that journey.
With “The Interrupters,” I read Alex Kotlowitz’s article, and what we both were taken with is how these individuals who once were part of the problem were now trying to fix something that, in their own way, they had created. And they’re trying to save themselves, not just save other people. And so it was very personal, and that was the hook.
And so over the years, I’ve found that I am drawn to personal stories that resonate for me in various ways. And what I’ve found is the reason why they resonate with me. They have something larger to say to us about the world we live in. They have something larger to say about those systems, or about race, or about class, or about criminal justice. In the case of a film like “Stevie,” when a person commits the crime that he did, do we as a society just throw them away, or do we try to save them? What is our obligation to them? But I don’t interview a bunch of experts to weigh in or to pontificate. I try to get at these things through the individual’s stories.
With Roger’s story, I didn’t know what I originally set out to do. I was just taken by his extraordinary life, and that he had had this incredible life journey that informed the way in which he wrote film criticism and that shaped the type of critic he was. If he hadn’t had this fascinating, incredible life journey, I probably wouldn’t have made the film despite admiring him as a film critic.
The personal stories angle kind of leads to my next question. You have a scene with Ava DuVernay, with whom I was on a panel last year at the Off Plus Camera Film Festival in Poland-of all places! She talks about how she entrusted her African-American themed film, “I Will Follow,” to Roger to spread the word about it, much like “Hoop Dreams” was in a way entrusted to Roger as well. I was glad you kept that scene in “Life Itself,” because it raises an interesting notion about whose stories get told in the cinema, and whether those stories get recognized or seen by audiences. Siskel and Ebert were always pointing out these little films on their show, and Roger carried the torch of the under-seen little film until he passed, both in his reviews and on social media. Do you think that social media has picked up Roger’s mission of pointing out these films?
Well, I’m no expert on social media because I’m not even on Twitter, fortunately, or unfortunately. I do understand a little bit about Instagram because a friend of mine told me that Roger Wolfson, another Roger in the business, markets his content through the site and suggested maybe I do the same but with more “oomph”. My friend’s always talking about different ways to grow his audience. Recently, he settled on using social media growth tools such as nitreo to extend his online presence.
Fortunately.
I went on Twitter literally for two minutes. I signed up after being browbeaten by the Twitter king at Kartemquin. I signed up, got one follower and said “I can’t do this” and cancelled the account. But I do think there’s an important role for social media. I don’t think it rises to the level of Roger Ebert when it comes to promoting films, and Roger as you know became a master at using social media. He even knows how to get free instagram followers with socialfollow, but that just sounds like a different language to me!
Yeah. He twisted my arm and made me use it. Said I should use it for “shameless self-promotion.”
Did he really? Well, I think he understood something about the contemporary world and contemporary technology, and the disconnect that can happen between us, and social media can be a bastardized version of that in some ways. But it can also be a very powerful and positive influence as well. It removes the gatekeepers. When Hoop Dreams came out 20 years ago, we were beholden to a distributor that was willing to spend a significant amount of money to get it out there. We were beholden to the traditional press outlets to embrace the film and write about it, otherwise no one would go see it or even hear about it. And that’s not true anymore.
Three years ago, “The Interrupters” made a perfect example. Here was a film where no money was spent putting the word out there. Yet thanks to social media, to Facebook and Twitter, to people writing about it on their blogs and saying “you should see this.” Because of all that, it played in 75 markets with no money spent. So I think there’s much to be said about social media…even if I’m not on Twitter!
Stay off it! One last question: Roger always beat up the MPAA for inexplicably and hypocritically applying their ratings. I try to carry the torch for this on RogerEbert.com. “Life Itself” is rated R, and I had to rack my brain to figure out why. Did you expect it? And what do you think Roger would have thought of this?
Roger wouldn’t have liked it. It’s because of a shot of bare breasts and a few uses of the word “fuck.” It’s the way the MPAA is. I thought, for a minute, “should we put up a big fight over this?” I realized I just don’t have the energy and time to do it. But if you wanted to write about it, that would be a beautiful thing. Because it is ridiculous.
It is ridiculous. So, kids, sneak into “Life Itself!”
That’ll give us some cachet!
by Lamb L.
On July 14 we will have one-time screenings of the Broadway play THE NANCE, with Nathan Lane, at the Royal, Playhouse and NoHo. From today’s Playbill:
“Douglas Carter Beane‘s 2013 drama The Nance, which was produced by Lincoln Center Theater and starred two-time Tony Award winner Nathan Lane, will be seen in more than 300 movie theatres in the U.S. and Canada this summer.”
“In The Nance, according to press notes, playwright Douglas Carter Beane “tells the story of Chauncey Miles (Nathan Lane), a headline nance performer in the twilight of New York burlesque’s era. Integrating burlesque sketches into his drama, Beane paints the portrait of a homosexual man living and working in the secretive and dangerous gay world of 1930’s New York, whose outrageous antics on the burlesque stage stand in marked contrast to his messy offstage life.”
by Lamb L.
It didn’t win any awards at this year’s Sundance Film Festival but critical and audience reaction to the indie buddy film LAND HO! was overwhelmingly warm and enthused. The notoriously demanding New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis called it a “joyous entertainment.” She went on:
“LAND HO!, written and directed by Martha Stephens and Aaron Katz, is a delightfully funny road movie about two longtime friends, a garrulous American, Mitch (Earl Lynn Nelson), and his rather more reserved former brother-in-law, an Australian, Colin (Paul Eenhoorn), who embark on a road trip through Iceland. By turns playful and wistful, the movie is anchored by its irresistible lead performances, with Mr. Eenhoorn, who played the title character in the indie gem Martin Bonner, a perfect low-key foil for the outsize Mr. Nelson, the breakout star of this year’s festival. The filmmakers adroitly skirt both the cute and the condescending — the default registers of too many movies about geezers — to offer a dual portrait of gloriously alive men who just happen to be old.”
Our very astute friends at Sony Pictures Classics knew a hit when they saw one, bought the rights, and we are utterly pleased to host the exclusive Los Angeles engagements of LAND HO! beginning July 11 at the Royal and the following week at the Town Center and Playhouse. Check out this short video interview with the co-writer-directors and their two lead actors.
by Lamb L.
THE PLEASURES OF BEING/OUT OF STEP filmmaker David L. Lewis will participate in a Q&A at the Music Hall after the 7:20 PM screening at the Music Hall on Friday, July 4th.
by Lamb L.
Mary Beth Fielder, co-founder of Money Out Voters In (MOVI) will participate in a Q&A at the Royal after the 7:45 PM screening of CITIZEN KOCH on Saturday, June 28.
by Lamb L.
We’ve been crazy for actress Emmanuelle Devos since 2001’s READ MY LIPS so we always look forward to her films. We open her latest, VIOLETTE, this weekend at the Royal, Playhouse and Town Center. Here follows an interview with the writer-director of that film, Martin Provost:
What was your first encounter with Violette Leduc?
René de Ceccatty, whom I met in 2007, introduced me to her while I was writing Séraphine. René said, “You’re making a movie about Séraphine, but have you heard of Violette Leduc?” I only knew her by name; I’d never read any of her work. He gave me an unpublished text that Violette had written about Séraphine, and which Les Temps Modernes had rejected. It was astonishingly perspicacious and beautiful. René also gave me the biography he’d written about Violette. After reading it, I devoured La Bâtarde, Trésors à prendre and so on. I told René, “We have to make a film about Violette.” The idea of the diptych was born. To my mind, Séraphine and Violette are sisters. Their stories are so similar, it’s unnerving.
In your film, you lay Violette bare in an intimately truthful portrait that liberates her of all the scandalous clichés associated with her reputation as a writer.
The more I discovered about her, the more I was deeply moved by what was hidden deep within her, the fragility and hurt, whereas the scandalous, flamboyant public figure—after she achieved celebrity in the 1960s—interested me much less; it was merely a façade. I wanted to get close to the real Violette, who is in pursuit of love and withdraws into great solitude to write. Life wasn’t kind to her. People said she was difficult. That wasn’t enough for me. I saw her as very insecure, fighting a lonely battle with herself, but still seeking. For me, that insecurity and solitude are what drove her. People rarely consider the risk every artist takes, whether they be a painter, writer or director. More often, they only see the achievement, and success if it comes. It takes a good deal of recklessness, as well as courage and perseverance, to set out on that road, and to keep going. Over time, you realize that solitude is extremely fertile, a crucial ally, just like silence, reflecting the inner being, which constantly grows and develops, but it can take a lifetime to comprehend that.
How did you get the idea to divide the film into chapters, as if reading a book?
Gradually. I realized that the succession of people Violette met in the course of her life corresponded either to particular books she wrote or to fundamental phases in her development. In editing, it really stood out, until there were only the people who really mattered, along with the penultimate chapter, dedicated to Faucon, the village in Provence where she lived in later life and died.
Personalities, the place where she bought her house, the book that brought her success… The film follows the trajectory of an authentic heroine toward her emancipation.
Yes, I wanted to make Violette a heroine, and I wanted all the protagonists of her story, of whom she would also have to free herself, to appear in the film. In order to grow, it is vital to be able to free yourself of everything that helped make you what you are. Reliant first of all on her mother, then on Simone de Beauvoir, Violette eventually secured her independence by writing La Bâtarde. By freeing herself of them subconsciously, she found her place. That’s why the chapter on Berthe, Violette’s mother, comes so late in the movie: when the conflict reaches its peak and can find a resolution.
You point out Berthe’s inadequacies, but also her desire to take care of her daughter.
Berthe is as central to the movie as she was to the life of Violette, who loved her as deeply as she resented her for bringing her into the world. Berthe wasn’t a bad woman. She was certainly not a good mother (Violette’s birth was not registered until she was two years old), although I am very dubious about the concept of good and bad mothers. It doesn’t really mean anything. Berthe did the best she could, and I didn’t want to condemn her, as Violette does. On the contrary, I wanted to show that Violette only sees part of her mother—the part with which she has scores to settle. The same goes for Maurice Sachs, an obscure personage who deserts Violette even though it was he who urged her to write. He plays his part in the inner construction of the writer she is to become. Nothing is ever black or white; there are shades of grey and nuances. I always come back to that—giving each character his or her chance, a fair crack. That’s how you find your place.
After the war, Violette Leduc meets a symbolic mother, Simone de Beauvoir, who takes on a role of mentor and patron.
That was the strongest bond in Violette’s whole life, above all the tumultuous and complex love affairs she had. The film’s second chapter recounts their meeting in Paris. At a friend of Maurice’s, to whom she is delivering black market meat, Violette picks up Simone de Beauvoir’s novel, She Came To Stay. She is immediately struck by the size of the book. “A woman writing such a big book,” she says. She reads it. She is gripped. She becomes obsessed with meeting and giving to Simone de Beauvoir her first manuscript, In the Prison of her Skin. Violette finds and observes Simone at the Café de Flore, where she writes every morning. She follows her. She corners her eventually and gives Simone her book. It’s the start of a lifelong relationship.
How do you interpret her relationship with Simone de Beauvoir in the film? Beauvoir seems to admire Violette’s impassioned behavior, and be irritated by it in equal measure. Simone is the only friend she keeps her whole life long; she corrects Violette’s texts, guides her and advises her. Violette even bequeaths her literary rights to Simone.
Simone de Beauvoir was fascinated by Violette, who rejected being an intellectual. She said, “I write with my senses.” For Simone, it was an ambiguous relationship that blurred the lines. Violette was in love with Simone, who did not reciprocate but saw in Violette the inspired writer that she never was. She kept her at a distance without ever letting her go. Violette was a terror. You slammed the door in her face and she slipped back in the window. Emmanuelle Devos, who plays her in the movie, came up with a very amusing and fitting term to describe her: “a pain in the heart.” Violette was a calamity for herself as much as for others: she suffered terribly and she provoked a lot of grief, too. She was convinced she was ugly and, confronted with Simone de Beauvoir, her ugliness became an obsession. Simone, however, managed to dodge every trap Violette set for her, in order to give her support and help her forge her oeuvre. Without Simone, I think Violette would have self-destructed.
Your Simone de Beauvoir is unexpectedly fragile and solitary, too.
It’s the less well-known side of Simone, alone, at a time when Sartre was dallying elsewhere. She wasn’t fulfilled until much later, after she met Nelson Algren. This fragile Simone also came to me thanks to one of her books that I rate above the others, A Very Easy Death, which is remorseless, tender and lucid all at the same time. It exudes all her emotion, of which she was so eminently capable, and humanity. I wanted to bring to life this intimate, little-known Simone, the woman who suddenly confides in Violette and breaks down in tears in front of the person who has sobbed on her shoulder all her life.
How did you cast the actresses who play these two roles?
I met with Emmanuelle Devos before I wrote the script, as I did with Yolande Moreau before Séraphine. I knew it was her and nobody else. I wanted to be sure she’d accept the physical transformation, becoming blonde with an ugly false nose. For Simone de Beauvoir, it was more complicated. Playing somebody who is so well known is scary. Emmanuelle encouraged me to meet Sandrine Kiberlain. I couldn’t picture her in the role but, when we met, I was struck by her grace, intelligence and, above all, determination. She was sure she could do it.
What other relationships fundamental to Violette’s life and work did you choose to show?
There’s Jean Genet, played by Jacques Bonnaffé. Genet loves Violette, who is illegitimate like him. They feel like brother and sister—shunned, two extraordinary writers, poets of their time and wrongdoers. Genet dedicated The Maids to Violette. Then, there was Jacques Guérin (Olivier Gourmet), a collector of manuscripts and owner of the perfume company, Les Parfums d’Orsay. He was rich but illegitimate also, homosexual, and Violette fell in love with him, of course, and doggedly pursued him to no avail. To my mind, Jacques is the ghost of the father who refused to recognize her as his daughter. Jacques was an aesthete, who had saved Proust’s manuscripts and went on to buy Violette’s and Genet’s.
Violette’s writing is striking for its physicality and sexualized language, which was revolutionary for a female author in the 1950s. People said she wrote like a man.
Yes. Writing was organic for Violette. That is very rare. She caught a lot of flak because she had the courage to say things nobody dared to mention. In her own words. She was the first woman to recount her abortion, and Ravages was censored. The unabridged version has never been republished, which is aberrant. The censorship resulted in Violette being interned. She nearly lost her mind.
Passion and love are like a cry that drives her writing but, at the same time, she said, “I am a desert speaking in monologues.”
Passion, yes. Frustration, definitely. There were different ways of tackling Violette Leduc. You could choose the scandalous woman angle, because she truly provoked scandals, was very outspoken, had a wonderful sense of humor and strong personality, and loved provocation and unseemly romances, but when you read her whole oeuvre, you realize that was all a pretext. She was looking for something else. She transformed her doomed or impossible romantic adventures into novels. And she was always alone.
How did you choose the music?
Violette needed a score as powerful and possessed as Michael Galasso’s compositions for Séraphine, but Michael had passed away between the two films. I was lost. So I looked and I found. Arvo Pärt was the obvious choice. I had Fratres playing in my mind, and as soon as we tried it with the film, it fell into place.
Is your film, like Violette’s novels, the “appropriation of a destiny,” to borrow Simone de Beauvoir’s expression?
How can you change a bad hand? How can you make something of misfortune? The film opens in 1942 in the first flickering of dawn amid the darkness of a harsh, brutal winter. It concludes in the south of France as the sun sets, with Violette at the height of her fame after the publication of La Bâtarde in 1964, prefaced by Simone de Beauvoir. It’s a road toward the light.
Interview by Laureline Amanieux
by Lamb L.
RADIO FREE ALBEMUTH writer-director John Allan Simon and producer Elizabeth Karr will participate in a Q&A at the NoHo after the 7 PM screening on Friday, June 27.