No Appetite For THE HUNGER GAMES: or Why I’m Not Afraid Of Existential Angst

I was finally coerced into watching THE HUNGER GAMES last night. I will say in all honesty that it was very “watchable.” I had expected to be bored to tears and to find the whole experience excruciating. It was not. Jennifer Lawrence is a good enough actor with enough on-screen charisma to counter the complete lack of depth inherent in the storytelling. From what I’ve been told, the movie honors the books. I can’t say from personal knowledge whether or not that is true, but trusted friends have told me that, while the books are a bit more exciting, they don’t offer any more in the depth department.

HUNGER GAMES is, in many ways, the perfect example of why Hollywood films are seen as “entertaining,” but ultimately shallow when compared to many indie films or similar films from other countries. By now, anyone taken with THE HUNGER GAMES has heard of Kinji Fukasaku’s BATTLE ROYALE. That film came out long before Suzanne Collins’ book of THE HUNGER GAMES. Though she claims not to have seen BATTLE, the comparisons are too similar to ignore. Personally less interested in whether or not she outright stole this story or not, what fascinates me most is how THE HUNGER GAMES avoids at almost every turn having to place its audience in any kind of existential crisis. It’s a concept without exploration. Where BATTLE ROYALE asks its audience to consider what this might be like if it were to actually happen and to imagine what the fear, horror, panic and sheer desire to live might feel like, GAMES takes us on a rather pleasant little excursion that, for me, was completely lacking in tension; I never once felt our protagonist was in any danger. She was never really faced with any dilemmas of conscience or difficult situations that truly tested her nature as a human being. Most of the events were predictable and unsurprising to this viewer. The film even avoids having our heroine kill a deer in its opening sequence even though her strength is supposedly her hunting skills. But alas, best not give the audience any reason to not like her or to have to see her kill a cute, cuddly forest creature, even if it is for survival’s sake and one of the major elements of her personality and her life-saving skill-set. No, they chose to play it safe and, as a result, limit the audience’s experience. God forbid they should be made to feel any real discomfort or have a dilemma of conscience. Let’s just keep it “nice.” For me, this is an egregious misstep right from the get-go and sets a less-than-daring tone for the rest of the film. As a result, I believe director Gary Ross wrongfully second-guessed his audience’s emotional and mental astuteness. If you’re going to tell this story, then tell it. Apprehension and fear is a lousy jumping off point.

That said, I must reiterate in all fairness that there was a mild level of enjoyment I felt while watching the film, but it was the kind of enjoyment that immediately dissolves away like cotton candy in your mouth. Before the end credits stopped rolling, I had already been left with an overriding sense of the incredibly facile nature of the whole affair.

THE HUNGER GAMES chooses not to “waste” any time with the lives, interests, histories or dilemmas of ANY other character beside its lead, Katniss, whom we still only get a mere surface impression of. Unlike BATTLE which takes us into the pre-battle world of most of its characters and addresses the complex relationships, confusing emotions and social stigmas that accompany youth, HUNGER is too busy with its hair and makeup, its recreation of the physical world of the books, to care much about the human elements of its story. What it’s like to be a kid, a teenager, what it’s like to be faced with such a terrifying life or death scenario, not to mention the angst inherent in growing up in general… All this is but a fleeting afterthought that dissipates long before it has a chance to materialize. Like a light fog that one must squint to see and then it’s gone.

My experience has led me to believe that there are a great many people out there who put a good deal of energy into avoiding having to think about anything they deem “too heavy”, anything that might cause some degree of angst, existential or otherwise: yes, believe in God, but don’t ask too many questions or think too deeply about it; Go see a movie, but if it conjures up thoughts and feelings that go too deep, that confuse or threaten to break down your committed and comfortable belief system in yourself or the world around you, dismiss it. It seems to me that THE HUNGER GAMES is tailor-made for this audience. Is that a bad thing? Not necessarily. It’s just not something I personally have much interest in. Not to mention that I believe there is an audience out there with a rabid desire and the capacity to explore life’s more complex riches.

I, personally, am someone who welcomes a certain degree of existential angst and self-exploration. I not only try actively not to avoid it, I oftentimes choose to plunge headfirst into that particular pit of what some others see as despair and I see as potential enlightenment, an exciting and, though at times frightening, ultimately eye-opening adventure. You see, for me, asking those questions, feeling those feelings, reminds me of just how incredible our situation here on this planet is. For me, there is nothing more spiritual. I suppose this is why when people say that the movie theater is their church, I get it. But I think for many people, the movie theater is a place to get away from having to think, whether it’s about themselves or the great unknown or the possibility that we may not be all that important in the grand scheme of things. I, personally, want to be stirred, provoked, awed, instigated, shaken and illuminated. And if I can’t have those things, then I’d at least like to have real fun, feel some connection, have my imagination roused, or simply laugh. For me, THE HUNGER GAMES offers none of that. It’s not bad or offensive, it’s just tepid and safe. It takes no risks, asks nothing of its audience other than their time. And it offers very little in exchange, except the opportunity to NOT have an authentic or reflective experience. Yes, like its tagline says, “The World Will Be Watching.” What it doesn’t mention is that their eyes will be glazed over.

I will say that THE HUNGER GAMES did offer me something, however. It offered me the occasion to extend my deep appreciation for Fukasaku’s BATTLE ROYALE. It allowed me to take a movie and story I already admired, and find yet another level with which to appreciate it. If nothing else, director Gary Ross’s rather safe and undemanding film did do that for me.

The as-yet unmatched BATTLE ROYALE

Desires & Lessons: Articulating A Filmmaking Experience

Back in 2009, I was interviewed by illustrious writer and chef (yes, that’s correct, he’s also a masterful culinary expert) Herbert M. Brindl for Rogue Cinema. I’ve been interviewed a fair amount over the years in all kinds of publications — from print to the internet — regarding my somewhat harrowing and sadly-all-too-common experiences as the writer/director of my first feature film. Some of those interviews I’m quite proud of, others I can’t help feeling I could have articulated better. This particular interview, however, I always felt pretty darn good about.

I stumbled across a copy of it the other day and found myself enjoying re-reading it from this new vantage point almost four years later. My film had been taken away from me in 2006 and this interview came at a time, unlike many of the interviews to come before it, where I had a few years to process what I had experienced and what that experience had become, what it meant, and what I was starting to take away as the lessons inherent in such milestone events. Much of what I said then still holds true now, though there are, of course, even more lessons that have emerged and areas that felt a bit grey at the time that have manifested into a somewhat more coherent form today. Time and reflection, mixed with new experiences, will thankfully do that.

Here is that interview, unedited, as it unfolded:

Director, Writer Hal Masonberg Rogue Interview. First published June 01, 2009:

HMB: Mr. Masonberg, tell us a little bit about your background. Where did you grow up and what was the reason you decided to go into filmmaking?

HM: I grew up in New Jersey. I left when I was 16 and never looked back. I’ve moved around a lot since then. As for filmmaking, I’ve always been passionate about film. From as early on as I can remember. Even before I knew what directing was, I knew I wanted to be the guy who was telling the story up on the screen. For a lot of people, I think film works as an escape from daily life. And it certainly is that for me at times, no doubt about it, but even when I was a kid, I loved going to films that forced me –no allowed me, to think. I was lucky enough to grow up in the 60′s and 70′s so the “mainstream” films at that time were pretty incredible! Especially compared to what we have now. We didn’t know at the time that we were in a golden age of cinema, but it turns out we were! That period in my life still infuses my approach to storytelling today. That and classic films, which I watched incessantly growing up and continue to do so today. I guess I’m just a good old-fashioned film geek.

HMB: What are the movies you grew up with?

HM: 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY was the film that captured me and changed my life forever. I saw it in its initial release and then again in its first reissue. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, talking about it… I was also a big Charlie Chaplin fan as a kid. They showed MODERN TIMES at a local movie theater for a number of weeks and I went several times each weekend. I was also an avid reader so I would buy the paperback of the latest film, and the “making-of” book if there was one. Regardless of whether or not I’d seen the movie yet, and I’d consume them all. I just loved everything about film.

HMB: I know you spent some time in Sweden. What was the reason behind your move there?

HM: Initially it was an invitation from friends. I looked into studying film there and found that I could. So I jumped on the opportunity. I was already a big fan of Bergman films, but I also knew there was a ton of other fantastic filmmakers in Scandinavia that I didn’t have access to. So I went there, learned Swedish and had a blast. And yeah, that experience still influences my own approach to filmmaking. I’d probably fit in much better there as a filmmaker than I do here in L.A.!

HMB: Any European filmmakers you admire and what do you see as the differences between US and European filmmakers/films for you?

HM: Well, this is a big question. It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that I’m not a huge fan of American films produced at the studios. For the most part, they’re fairly empty, despite the big budgets and the technical expertise. I’ve worked in the Hollywood film industry now for over 18 years and my personal experience has been that it’s almost impossible to make a film at a studio that actually reflects the vision of the writers and directors. So many people working in Hollywood are there because they love business, not film. But they have little-to-no understanding of the business they’re in! If you ran a tailor shop, I’d expect you to know something about tailoring. If you owned a restaurant, I’d expect you to know something about food and appetites and ambience. It’s the same with the film business. Only at the studio level, so many of the people working there don’t have a love of cinema. Nor do they have a very deep understanding of the artistry behind it. There’s an attitude that’s rampant in Hollywood that there’s only one way to do things. And any variation from that is wrong. There’s also an assumption that the audience is not as savvy as the executives making the big decisions. And that’s a scary thing because my experience has been that a lot of film execs are not all that savvy!

In my personal experience–and the experiences of many of my friends and colleagues–there seems to be a lack of respect for filmmakers at the studio level. And by that I mean the writers and directors. On my film, THE PLAGUE, we were told by the VP of acquisitions at Sony that they owned the film now and saw no reason for the writers and director to be involved. Now you have to understand, no one at Sony had ever met nor spoken with either myself or my writing partner Teal Minton. The film was sold to them by Armada Pictures, who let our contracts run out, and then took what we had shot and re-cut it into something completely unrecognizable. And then Clive Barker (whose producers were largely responsible for re-cutting the film and keeping both Teal and I out of the editing room) had the gall to say in an interview that the film we made wasn’t the film we had written or pitched. Nothing could be further from the truth. But Clive was almost entirely absent from the development and production of this film. Even his own producers were fond of commenting on how clueless he was as to what was going on with THE PLAGUE. They were constantly telling us things behind his back to prepare us for the fact that Clive was out of the loop. God knows what they told him when they kicked us off the film. I read in an interview with Clive sometime later that he claimed I had gotten in my car and drove away from the editing room before the picture was locked. And that’s very likely what his own people told him. Meanwhile, they were telling us that Clive no longer wanted us on this film and that they were re-cutting it into what producer Jorge Saralegui called a “killer kid film.” Of course that was the exact term we all used to describe what the film was NOT. Jorge’s choice of words was no accident and was accompanied by “get the hell out of here you fucking piece of shit! This is MY film now, not yours!”

Now in the almost 3 years I worked with Jorge, this kind of behavior wasn’t uncommon. I glimpsed it early on in small ways, but once we got on set I felt like I had to do a lot of damage control with some crew members who ended up on the receiving end of what I saw as intense verbal abuse and public humiliation. But again, Hollywood seems to be a place where people can act like this and still continue to work. Jorge’s not unique here. For me, I find people work better if you treat them like the human beings that they are. I know I’ll bend over backwards to help someone who appreciates what I do and knows how to express it.

The good thing here, of course, is that I now know exactly the kind of producers I DON’T want to have on any of my other films. Between Jorge and the Armada producers, I have a pretty good idea of what the tell-tale signs are of the kind of people that simply have no place on the set of any film I’m directing. The process of making a film should be thrilling. Damn hard work, crazy long hours and extremely stressful at times, but thrilling nonetheless. The last thing I need is for someone to be vomiting up their dysfunction all over the very same crew I’m depending on to get this film in the can on time and under budget. Not to mention whether or not they have what it takes to see the film through post-production without sacrificing the integrity and artistry of the project itself.

Which brings me back to your question… (laughs). I haven’t worked abroad, but I have friends who do. And it seems to me that there is a slightly different attitude toward writers and directors there. The types of films that can be successful in Europe are often more daring than what we produce here. But that said, even our worst films do business there so it’s not like everyone’s an intellectual looking for “art” films. I recently attended a British/American filmmaking conference as my next project is set largely in England. I asked the panel of actors whether they felt there was a difference between the final integrity of the films they made here in the States versus the films they made in England. All of them agreed that the integrity and vision of the film and the filmmakers was more respected in England. BUT… they also said that there often wasn’t enough money to shoot what was needed and those films suffered as a result. Here in the States, we have more money which allows you to get the takes you need. Unless you were working on THE PLAGUE! (laughs again). So I think you have to find the right balance. There are pitfalls to both.

As for contemporary European directors I admire, Krystof Kieslowski was one of my favorite contemporary directors. I think THE DOUBLE LIFE OF VERONIQUE and BLEU are two of the best films I’ve ever seen. And THE DECALOGUE. I wish he was still with us and making films. That was a great loss. I also love Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Though not European, I think he’s really pushing the edge of films that work on a primal level. They’re “felt” before they’re understood. I also admire Julio Medem. And Isabel Coixet. I think she’s just terrific. And I love that Pedro Almodovar refuses to heed the sirens call of Hollywood. And why should he? He has everything he needs to make the films he wants right there in Spain.

HMB: Mr. Masonberg, before we get to your petition and the problems that surround “The Plague”, tell us about your version of the film which you wrote and directed. What inspired you to write a story about kids and violence in society?

HM: My writing partner Teal and I missed seeing smart horror films. It was as simple as that. Our favorite horror films were all clearly reflections of fears that existed in society at the time they were made. And those social fears still managed to resonate no matter how many years later they were viewed. Somewhere in the eighties, horror in America became a genre geared toward teenagers and concentrated more on graphic violence and gore effects than on story, character or, in my opinion, anything truly horrifying or terrifying. I stopped going to horror films for what seemed like ages. So, Teal and I decided that we wanted to make a film that harkened back to those films we loved and were so effected by, and at the same time make the themes a reflection of our time and some of the fears we face today. Kids and violence in society and how we act and react out of fear seemed incredibly timely for us. And while writing and shopping the script, the massacre at Columbine happened and other school shootings, the 9/11 attacks, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq… All the themes we were exploring were coming to a head right before our eyes. And I still think the Writers and Director’s Cut of THE PLAGUE is as timely today as ever. Maybe even more so. But the producers’ cut is devoid of those themes. It is, in essence, just another teenage horror flick. It’s exactly what we DIDN’T want to make!

HMB: What are three Horror movies that left you thinking, asking questions and looking inward?

HM: There are many, but the ones that come to mind are DON’T LOOK NOW, THE INNOCENTS, THE EXORCIST, ROSEMARY’S BABY, Lon Chaney’s THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, the original INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS… It doesn’t take much to look into these films and the periods in which they were made to see what social fears they were addressing. But the best thing is that they still scare the piss out of you today. When Jorge was informing me that he was cutting down the characters and turning THE PLAGUE into a killer-kid film, he used THE EXORCIST as his reasoning. He claimed that THE EXORCIST was about a girl possessed by a demon. He proclaimed that the title of the film we were making was THE PLAGUE, not THE TOM RUSSELL STORY –Tom Russell being the main character in the film played by James Van Der Beek. But I couldn’t disagree more. And this is where I get back to my earlier point about many producers working in the film business not understanding the very business they’re working in. THE EXORCIST is not about a girl possessed by a demon. It’s about two priests and a mother. We never spend a single solitary second alone with the little girl played by Linda Blair. Our entire experience of that girl is through the eyes of others. The first 40 minutes of that film is dedicated to Father Karras, Father Merrin and, most especially, Chris MacNeil, the girl’s mother played by Ellen Burstyn. It’s their story! This film is about a question of faith and a mother no longer recognizing her own daughter and feeling helpless. How many parents must suddenly find themselves thinking, “That’s not my child. I didn’t teach him or her how to talk like that, act like that.” This girl is cursing, acting out sexually, lashing out at her family… Hello? If it was just a film about a girl possessed by a demon, it wouldn’t have been any better than the dozen or so EXORCIST knockoffs that followed it! No, what happens to that little girl is frightening, but it hits home because we’re witnessing it through the eyes of a mother. Now THAT’S terrifying! Take out those characters and all you have are spinning heads and pea soup. Which is pretty much what I think of the producers’ cut of THE PLAGUE. Spinning heads and pea soup.

HMB: How much was the budget for “The Plague”?

HM: I was told three and a half million. Though I don’t know if all of it ended up on the screen. Some questions have been raised about that.

HMB: What was it like to work with Dee Wallace and some of the other actors?

HM: Dee was a champion. I’d work with Dee again in a heartbeat. In fact, I’m counting on it. The producers seemed to have absolutely no appreciation for what she gave to this film and that is witnessed by the fact that most of her astonishing performance was left on the cutting room floor in the producers’ cut. Dee is not only a team player, she’s an incredible human being and an amazing actress. Most of the other actors were a joy to work with as well. John Connolly as the Sheriff. Here’s an actor who I think is just fantastic and very underused. I was honored to have him in THE PLAGUE. Bradley Sawatzky, a local Winnipeg hire who played Deputy Nathan Burgandy… An amazing actor and the sweetest human being you’ll ever meet. Brad Hunt who honored the film, myself, and the role of Sam from before we started shooting till the moment we wrapped… Josh Close, Brittany Scobie… There were so many incredible people on this film, both in front of and behind the camera. I was truly blessed in more ways than not. I only wish the film itself reflected their commitment and passion. That’s one of the reasons it’s so important to me to get the proper cut released. No one who worked on this film got what they wanted at the end of the day except the people who only cared about putting a paycheck in their pockets. And I know a few people on this production who are still fighting to get all of that!

HMB: What happened during post production that caused you to be thrown off of this project? Was Clive Barker responsible for that? Also, when did you sense that you were losing control of your film?

HM: Well,I addressed some of this above, but I’ll add a little more here. One of Clive Barker’s producers, Anthony DiBlasi, confided in me that if Scott Shooman, the VP of acquisitions at Sony, got what he wanted, then the film would never resemble what we set out to make. This was once we got back to L.A. to start post and Anthony and some of the other producers had their first meeting with Shooman. Anthony wasn’t happy. In fact, he seemed pretty scared and distraught. About a week later, I put in a call to Clive to let him know how the cutting was going. It was my understanding that Clive had final say over the cut since his name was gonna be above the title, although at that time we all thought it was going to be Clive Barker Presents THE PLAGUE, not CLIVE BARKER’S THE PLAGUE. I think that one may have even taken Clive by surprise! Anyhow, I told Clive that I had cut the first 40 minutes together and was really happy. He wanted to see what I had done and I was eager to hear his thoughts. He asked if I thought I would need to do any reshoots and I told him I was hoping not to as I had been discovering some truly great workarounds to the footage we didn’t get (our shooting schedule had been reduced from a supposed 28 days to a mere 20 at the last minute). We had a great chat and we hung up and I returned to the editing room. Next thing I know, my manager calls telling me he just got off the phone with Jorge Saralegui who was screaming that I had “gone behind his back” by calling Clive. All I could think about was how often these guys kept saying that Clive didn’t know what was happening with THE PLAGUE; that it was a waste of time talking to him. What I didn’t see coming was that they would actually become frantic at the mere thought of me calling him. What were they worried I would say? Clive never managed to come to set while we were shooting THE PLAGUE and so I hadn’t talked to him for several months. So far as I was concerned, it was about time I checked in. But something else was going on here. Something beyond my understanding of the relationship between Clive and his producers. I called Jorge. He admitted that he might have overreacted, but he was already in full defensive mode and remained cold and distant.

Next thing I knew, Anthony called me to tell me Clive no longer wanted to see what I had been working on, but would instead wait till I was finished editing. So I asked Anthony to be in the editing room with me from that point on to represent Clive’s interests. It was important to me that they were happy with the film as well. Anthony was very supportive and loved the cut that we had put together. It was still rough, but Anthony had told me repeatedly that I shouldn’t try and complete the cut in the six weeks allotted  After the six weeks, then the producers get to step in and make any changes they want. But the plan was to continue working together. As it should be. When we finished the first rough cut, Anthony was thrilled. He really felt like the movie was coming together. I asked him if he thought Clive would like it and his response was “I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t!”  Turns out Clive didn’t. And now I know exactly what Anthony would do in that situation. I was told Clive wanted me off the project. I tried to contact him, but my calls went unanswered. It was like walking head-first into the Twilight Zone. Friends disappeared into the shadows, everyone became cold and distant. Suddenly, all the collaboration, shared vision and hard work was tossed headlong out the window. Jorge claimed they were turning the film into a Killer Kid flick, which is what they claimed Sony wanted it to be, and my participation in the process came to a screeching halt. I knew there was more to the story than I was being told, but what that was I still couldn’t say. It’s my suspicion that there were people putting words in Clive’s mouth that may never have actually come from there. But I don’t know.

One of the major themes in THE PLAGUE was how we react out of fear and the damage it can cause both internally and externally. It seemed ironic and, perhaps, grotesquely fitting that fear appeared to be a major driving force behind-the-scenes as well.

HMB: This sounds like it’s more a Studio standard method than an exception, what happened to you with the “Plague”. After that, were you in contact with other directors that had the same experience as you, meaning no final cut and and being excluded from the editing process?

HM: Yeah, other directors poured out of the woodwork once I went public. You hear about this happening all the time, directors having films taken away from them. But I think it’s more rare when it’s a low-budget film. Though I could be wrong. Sadly, many of the directors I came in contact with chose to stay quiet about it. I think that’s the norm. Lord knows my lawyer and agent at the time both strongly advised that I just “walk away”. So I did. But not from the film. I walked away from them. They didn’t seem to get that it was the film itself that was most important to me. Not my career or how this film was gonna “help me.” It’s funny, you know, after I was removed I had a ton of people say to me repeatedly, “Yeah, but at least you got to make a film!” And I’d say, “No. I didn’t.” They didn’t seem to get that having my name on a film, any film, was not what was important to me. So far as I’m concerned, I’ll never be done making this film until it’s out there as it was meant to be seen. Now that doesn’t mean I don’t move forward and keep making other films, I’m already in the process of putting together the next one, but THE PLAGUE is also something I’ll keep working on until it’s finished and available to the public. And by that I don’t mean to suggest that the experience of making THE PLAGUE wasn’t successful, because personally I have gotten so much out of the experience. What happened on THE PLAGUE defines how I will approach any film I make from this day forward, my attitudes toward artistic expression and the things that are most important to me. Including listening more closely to and trusting my gut. But the film itself, as a film, isn’t finished. Not until people can see it as we made it.

HMB: How did you handle this disappointing experience emotionally, and how did you overcome it?:

HM: I had several friends hold me down and keep me from tossing myself out a window! Truthfully, it was the most painful experience of my adult life. Which I realize is really hard for some people to understand. To lose something I had invested so much into… To be betrayed by people I had put my trust in… Filmmakers talk about their films being like their babies. And it’s true. I know for some people it’s hard to imagine a film being that important. But I had fought on and off for eight years to get this film made. I had been dreaming and struggling to do this from as early on as I could remember. And this was a story that was important for me to tell. And to know my name was going to be on a film that in no way reflected who I was and, in fact, was adding to the deluge of horrible, mindless horror films flooding the shelves of every corner video store… It took a long time for me to even start to recover. But part of the recovery process was not allowing myself to be a victim. I gathered the dailies that I’d kept on DVD and started putting the film together as it was intended to be. It was a fantastic experience in every way. Liberating and creative, exciting… It reminded me of exactly why I wanted to make films in the first place. Something that’s easy to forget working in this town. I remember reading about Paul Thomas Anderson’s first film SYDNEY, which was taken away from him, re-cut and re-titled HARD EIGHT. I believe in the article I read that Anderson climbed into bed and didn’t get out for six months. Exaggeration or not, I understood the feeling. Same with Stephen Gaghan who claimed in an article that his experience with his first directorial feature ABANDON was more painful than the death of his father! A pretty extreme sentence. But again, I got it. Here was the Academy Award winning writer of TRAFFIC, and he was ready to pack his bags and leave Hollywood forever. Instead, he made SYRIANA which broke all of the “rules” he had been taught by the studios on how you write and make a good film. He threw formula right out the window and made a truly extraordinary film. One he might not have made if his experience on ABANDON had gone differently. You never know where that silver lining is until much later. And that’s my attitude with THE PLAGUE. I’m only now just starting to see all the great things that have come and are yet to come out of this extremely painful experience.

HMB: Is it true that you are still owed $70,000 in director’s fees by Sony?

HM: I deferred $70,000 of my salary. Sony now claims CLIVE BARKER’S THE PLAGUE lost upwards of a million dollars and therefore no money is owed to me. So I’m back at the old day job earning some survival money while I put the next film together. But it does strike me as odd that the folks at Sony put together a cut of THE PLAGUE, marketed it to Clive Barker fans, released it straight to video, and then lost money. I mean, my understanding was that Sony owned the film now and knew what to do with it. It seems to me someone tried to sell a film to Clive Barker fans that was never intended to be for Clive Barker fans, though they certainly tried to pass if off as such by re-cutting the living hell out of it, adding stock footage and recording tons of new dialogue. The irony here is that never seems to work and no one ever seems to learn. And the very people that the film was originally intended for would NEVER have rented or gone out to see a film with Clive Barker’s name above the title. That’s a very small, particular audience. And I’m not saying anything derogatory about that audience. It just wasn’t the target audience for THE PLAGUE. And I’m talking either cut! But it seems the studio had a marketing plan that was more important than whether or not the film we had made fit into that particular strategy. So some brilliant person made the same mistake made by a thousand people before him and tried to change the film to fit the mold. But you know, when someone keeps trying to wedge the square peg into the triangle hole… You either pump ‘em full of medication or you simply take the peg away from them and give it to someone who knows where the square hole is.

HMB: The producers cut is called “CLIVE BARKER’S THE PLAGUE”, was Clive Barker actually involved in the film?

HM: I met Clive maybe 5 times. And three of those times were no more than 30 seconds apiece. The story wasn’t based on any of his work, he wasn’t involved with the writing or development, he never visited the set and I never saw him in post. The script existed for 5 years before anyone at Clive’s company even read it. Yet the film’s titled CLIVE BARKER’S THE PLAGUE. Does anyone else find that a tad misleading? Clive gave me two pieces of advice: The first was that there should be a big scare every seven minutes. Every seven minutes! This was the day before I left to head up to Canada to shoot the film. First, one has to wonder if Clive had read the script cause there certainly weren’t scares written in every seven pages! What was he suggesting here? Second, is anyone else sick and tired of these ludicrous “rules” on how to make a film? It’s like taking one of those silly connect-the-dots children’s puzzles and using it as a sample of great sketch artistry.

The second piece of advice was that I should pick one or two scenes that were most important to me and put all my creative energy into those. The rest of the film I should shoot like a TV movie. Now I’m sure that was probably the best advice he could give on how to shoot a film like this in 20 days, but it sadly had nothing to do with how I want to make films and why I was making this one. It was more or less the antithesis of my approach to anything I care about. But I think if you watch the films Clive’s directed, you may realize that, if nothing else, he at least takes his own advice.

HMB: Mr. Masonberg don’t you think it was ironic that later on, Mr. Barker himself had to deal with miseries of his own because a distributor (Lionsgate) was screwing him on one of his movie (Midnight Meat Train). Not re-cutting it, but messing with its theatrical release?

HM: I did find that ironic, yes. Especially as he was asking fans to gather together and write Lionsgate in protest. I wrote a blog titled CLIVE BARKER’S KARMA? That said, I do hate to see anyone have their film messed with. Anyone. I know that film was important to Clive. But from what Jorge Saralegui had told me while we were shooting THE PLAGUE, he already felt like they had lost control of that film and had been pushed out by Lionsgate even back then. It was a bit of a sore subject already and they hadn’t even started shooting yet.

HMB: Mr. Masonberg what happened as you delivered your film to the editing room? Is it true that “henchman’s” forced you out of the building?

HM: Well, there were no henchman. Only Clive’s producers Jorge Saralegui, Anthony DiBlasi and Joe Daly. Anthony and Joe sat quietly with their heads down while Jorge, beet red and screaming at the top of his lungs, called me a fucking piece of shit, threw my editing notes on the floor and claimed THE PLAGUE was no longer my film but his. When I confronted him with the fact that he had done the same thing to John Woo on BROKEN ARROW and to Jean Pierre Jeunet on ALIEN 4, his response was, “That’s right, I did! And now I’m doing it to you!” What I was referring to was a set of stories that Jorge would tell ad nauseum on set claiming that John Woo didn’t know how to direct an action scene and was “shaking in his boots the whole time,”  and how Jean Pierre Jeunet didn’t have a clue where to put a camera, etc., etc. Jorge seemed to be not only putting these filmmakers down for the very talents they were most renowned for, but seemed to also be suggesting that he had saved those films by taking them away from those directors in post. There were other directors he’d worked with that he didn’t speak highly of, but these were the two I chose to reference in that moment. Specifically as he was so fond of repeating those stories with what seemed to me like rather misplaced pride.

HMB: Why did you choose Oscar nominee Bill Butler as you cinematographer?

HM: I knew Bill’s work on JAWS, ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOOS NEST, FRAILTY, so many, many others, but most specifically THE CONVERSATION which is one of my all time favorite films. I knew Bill would understand that I was not looking to make a film with lots of wild camera moves and quick cutting. This film was to have a slow build and allow the actors to move within the frame. I knew he would understand my compositions and bring a world of wisdom and knowledge to the table. Bill’s the best. And his lighting technique is beautiful and subtle. I’m not fond of the harsh lighting of many of today’s films. There’s a “slick” look that is just not appealing to me. Unfortunately, Bill was not allowed to color-time his work on this film so the producers’ cut looks nothing like we had intended it to. The colors are all wrong, but worse, it’s too damn bright! We chose to shoot the film brighter than intended for maximum detail, it’s why we picked the film stock we did. So we exposed the film with the intention of then bringing it down several stops to create those rich, deep blacks. And this stock would allow for that. We were also promised a digital intermediate. That was included in the budget. It never happened. Bill was not invited to complete his work on this film. It’s really a major insult to the man and his work. Last time I spoke to Bill, he still wanted to know if we would ever get the chance to color-time the film correctly. I still fully expect to pick up that phone one day soon and let him know it’s time to finally make this film look the way it was shot to look! But for the moment, that decision lies in Sony’s hands.

HMB: Your next move in the “Plague” story reminds me of a biblical fight, “David vs. Goliath”. You started a petition and the Spreading the Plague website to get your own cut of the film released. When did you decide to fight back? And where you concerned that you could get “Blacklisted”?

HM: Ahhh, the age-old Hollywood blacklist… I think it was what my lawyer and agent feared. But I was never really concerned about that . My attitude was and still is that I have no interest in working with anyone who would “blacklist” me for fighting to get the proper cut of my film released. Like I said before, my career is not as important to me as the film I’m making. Which isn’t to say I don’t want the film to be successful. I do. And in fact I believe my cut of the film would have been very profitable were it released as intended and marketed properly. And it’s my intention to prove that, even with the bad taste the other cut has left in the mouths of most of the folks who have seen it, if the online reviews are any indication. The thing is, so many folks are running around trying to be successful in Hollywood, but they don’t seem to see that they’re running scared. You don’t need anyone’s permission to make a film. Especially these days. The studios no longer wield that threat. You want to make a film… Make a film! Hell, I used some of the top filmmaking software on my Macintosh in my living room to complete my cut of THE PLAGUE. Sure, if I want to make a $200 million film, I’m probably gonna need a studio behind me. But I don’t need $200 million. My personal definition of success seems to be very different from the definition of the people who were telling me my career would be over if I finished my cut of the film.

HMB: After you started your petition and your website spreadingtheplague.com, did you get any response from Sony or Clive Barker?

HM: Nothing. Clive’s people called my manager to ask “What the fuck?”, but that was all I ever heard about. It wasn’t until a bunch of fans started an email campaign to Sony to ask for a release of the WRITERS & DIRECTOR’S CUT that Scott Shooman, who had never met nor spoken with me before, called my manager to find out what was happening. When I heard he called, I picked up the phone in the hope of starting a dialogue. He called me back a few days later and seemed rather irate that people who had nothing to do with THE PLAGUE were receiving hundreds of emails. He asked me what I wanted and I told him I wanted Sony to release the proper cut of the film. He told me straight up that would never happen as Sony had already lost money on the project. I reminded him that he was largely responsible for the cut that lost money, not me. So I said that if Sony wasn’t interested in releasing the proper cut, then I wanted the rights to distribute the WRITERS & DIRECTOR’S CUT myself or take it to another distribution company. I was fine with them continuing to make money on their cut. I just wanted mine out there as well. I even proposed a split-rights deal in which they wouldn’t have to put a single penny into the film, but would get a significant percentage of whatever profits it made. As I saw it, this was a chance for them to recoup some of that lost money AND satisfy the fans AND get me off their back. No go. “We don’t do that.” What Scott Shooman offered instead was that Sony would be willing to sell me the distribution rights to all things PLAGUE for $1 million. I searched my pants pockets, pulled out a couple of quarters and told him I didn’t have enough. So the campaign continues.

HMB: What’s important for you when you attach yourself to a project and what have you learned about your experience with “The Plague”?

HM: John Cassavetes once said something to the effect that you should pick the five most important reasons why you want to make a film. Now those will be the first five things they’ll try and take away from you in Hollywood. I’ve learned that I should never give up anything that I don’t think I could live without. If the film itself is what is most important to me, then I don’t hand the film over to anyone who doesn’t care about it as much as I do.

HMB: One of your upcoming directing projects is the indie feature “CLEAN”. What can you tell us about it?

HM: When my old agent saw what happened to me on THE PLAGUE, she stated that maybe next time I should try and make something more commercial. I had to laugh. THE PLAGUE is probably the most commercial film I have in me! CLEAN is, for lack of a better term, a psychological thriller about identity. And I say for lack of a better term because nothing I write seems to fit snugly into any one genre. Even THE PLAGUE is more a drama with horror elements than what a horror film is thought of by today’s definition of the term. CLEAN is fairly challenging in that it follows four interconnected characters all spiraling downward as they frantically search for some meaning to the question, “Who the hell am I and can I trust my own memories?” The stories move back and forth in time and out of sequence. I think it will be very successful on the indie circuit. It leaves a lot up for interpretation. Which is something I love. I found when films don’t do what people expect them to or want them to, they tend to think the film is flawed. Some even get angry. I have a feeling CLEAN will elicit that response from some. But others will gravitate toward it and hopefully be blown away. The last two people who read it had two very different reactions: One claimed that it left him numb. The other said she starting weeping as soon as she was finished reading even though she wasn’t sure exactly why. And I love that! I love that two people sitting next to one another in a theater could potentially have two completely different reactions to the same film. I remember when I went to see Terence Malick’s THE NEW WORLD. The friend I was with felt like the film had missed all the emotional beats. It left him cold. Meanwhile, I was sitting in my seat crying like a little schoolgirl. I thought the film was almost entirely emotional. Like the most effective poetry. I was blown away.

HMB: What do you like and don’t like about the business?

HM: That I haven’t already mentioned?

HMB: Some advice for newcomers in the directing and writing world?

HM: Don’t believe anything anyone tells you. Especially if they’re trying to tell you what you CAN’T do. And decide what’s most important to you and why you’re doing it. And know that there are good people working in the film industry. They’re just surrounded by some of the most dysfunctional people you’ll ever meet! And ask yourself honestly if the people you’re working with want the same things you do. It’s not a crime to want different things. It just might mean you shouldn’t be working together. And try and move beyond your ego. It’s not good for collaboration or for creativity.

HMB: What’s next for Hal Masonberg?

HM: Well, getting CLEAN made is top priority. Then another film I’ve been writing set in Cornwall, England. A really beautiful story. Also looking at putting together a web series so that I can start working with all the amazing actors and other talented people I know out here. There are only so many roles and jobs on a film. There’s too much unused talent in my little circle. I can’t just sit by and not create something designed specifically for them. And how great to work with people you love and admire. What could be more satisfying than that?

HMB: Please choose 5 film people out of the film business (dead or alive), you want to have at your dinner Table.

HM: Ugh… I hate these questions… And can’t resist them… Stanley Kubrick, David Lean, Michael Powell, Carole Lombard, Krystof Kielowski. All gone now.

HMB: Any people that came along in your life you wish to give a special thanks to and credit in this interview?

HM: You, for one! This interview wouldn’t be taking place if you hadn’t been interested! And to every damn person who has been putting up with my endless PLAGUE campaign!

HMB: Thank you so much for the interview Mr. Masonberg, and all the best for 2009 for getting your cut of “The Plague” released on DVD!

HM: Thank you.

The Mad, Mad Jonathan Winters: Then & Now

Today is a sad day with the announcement of the passing of Jonathan Winters. He was a favorite comedian of mine since I was little. I had the sincere pleasure of seeing Mr. Winters speak last year at a very special screening at the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences of a new 70mm print of IT’S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD, WORLD. It was an evening to behold as the Q&A moderated by Billy Crystal included Carl Reiner, Jonathan Winters, Mickey Rooney, Stan Freberg, Marvin Kaplan, Barrie Chase, casting director Lynn Stalmaster, script supervisor Marshall Schlom and Karen Sharp Kramer, director Stanley Kramer’s wife. The evening was pure heaven for a movie geek like myself.

I’d like to share the audio recording I made from that night. Mr. Winters was in rare form and, despite being bound to a wheelchair, the man seemed as vibrant and funny as one would hope. It was, in the purest sense of the word, a joy.

This first part starts just after the short screening of THE MIRACLE OF TODD-AO with an explanation of the process, followed by Billy Crystal being introduced and then the start of the intro to the many Q&A participants. Mickey Rooney’s intro begins Part 2 of the recording (with a cut where I video taped Mr. Rooney dancing, then I picked right back up again with the audio).

If you’d like to hear Jonathan Winter’s segments right away, start with Part 2.

Enjoy!

IT’S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD WORLD Q& A Part 1

IT’S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD WORLD Q& A Part 2

Soderbergh Saves The Best For Last?

I, for one, am not excited by the notion that director Steven Soderbergh has decided to stop making films. Of course, we all hope he changes his mind and either doesn’t stop, or just takes a short hiatus and returns sooner than later. But no matter what decision he ultimately makes, it’s invigorating and inspiring to know that he’s pushing the envelope right up to the end. Well, almost. I have yet to see his last two films, SIDE EFFECTS and BEHIND THE CANDELABRA. But if his two films before these are any indication, something tells me I’m gonna like them.

HAYWIRE took me by surprise. With a leading actress few of us ever heard of but who is startlingly charismatic, beautiful and kicks some serious on-screen ass, and a smart script that moves around in time as it unravels its intriguing mystery thriller of intelligence agency betrayals, HAYWIRE plays like a film smack out of the 70′s. Though some critics essentially called it a poor man’s BOURNE IDENTITY, the film has far more in common with cinematic masterpieces like John Boorman’s POINT BLANK than it does with anything more contemporary. Poor man’s, my ass. There’s nothing poor man’s about HAYWIRE. It’s the work of a director at the top of his game and, while I enjoyed the first BOURNE movie, if there’s any relation to be found here, HAYWIRE is its wiser and far more accomplished (and extraordinarily distant) much older cousin (ten times removed).

Gina Carano

Gina Carano, a former professional Muay Thai kickboxer and Mixed Martial Arts world champion, carries HAYWIRE from first frame to last. She is backed by an extraordinary cast that includes, Michael Douglas, Michael Fassbender, Antonio Banderas, Ewan McGregor, Channing Tatum and Bill Paxton. The action erupts out of quiet tension and is startlingly vivid and naturalistic as Soderbergh chooses to present these breathtaking and completely non-digitally-altered fight sequences sans music, giving the action an incredibly raw, unsettling and unexpectedly potent kick.

For me, HAYWIRE is simply a terrific film, a rare treat that shows us that American cinema is not dead, it’s just currently relegated to the shadows. At least on its home turf.

Soderberg followed HAYWIRE with the outstanding and vastly entertaining MAGIC MIKE, which also stars Channing Tatum, an actor I never bothered to pay attention to until Soderbergh forced me. I’m glad he did because Tatum shines in both films (despite my aversion to guys that remind me of frat boys). MAGIC MIKE is, in a way, Soderbergh’s BOOGIE NIGHTS only (and I’ll catch a world of shit for this), I think MAGIC MIKE is a far better, far more accomplished film. Where BOOGIE NIGHTS felt like a talented and not quite mature young filmmaker let off the leash in a room full of really amazing film toys and celebrity actors, MAGIC MIKE shows the subtlety, restraint and nuance of a mature and practiced artist at the top of his game. Yeah, I know many will disagree with me here, but like it or not, this is what the world looks like from where I stand.

Soderbergh’s humor and compassion, mixed with his love of actors and fantastically 70′s-influenced storytelling skills (as well as a much-needed-and-sorely-lacking-in-most-American-films desire for narrative risk-taking), makes MAGIC MIKE an incredibly welcome movie-watching experience for this oft disappointed filmgoer.

I hope if it comes to pass that Soderberg does, indeed, move on from his filmmaking career, that other young filmmakers will take his lead and find a way to express themselves without compromise and push the medium where it needs to go: Ahead, and not stagnating in the realm of bigger-is-better rehashes that all feel far too moribund and homogeneous.

Is that too much to ask?

Favorite Quotes: Martin Scorsese On The Uncomfortable Landscape Of Great Films

In a recent review of John Ford’s classic film The Searchers for The Hollywood Reporter, Martin Scorsese discusses why he believes (as so many do) that The Searchers is not just a great western, but a great film. Quite possibly one of cinema’s greatest films. Throughout his review of this classic, as well as Glenn Frankel’s new book The Searchers: The Making of an American Legend, Scorsese explores what makes a film like The Searchers stand out from so many others. And part of that story takes into account the film’s backstory and the many characters –Ford, Wayne, Hunter, Archuletta, Steiner– that came together both personally and professionally to create this moment in time. 

What resonated most with me from Scorsese’s article, however, was his description of the film:

“Like all great works of art, it’s uncomfortable.”

As someone who is rabid about exploring –both as a filmmaker and a film-viewer– those areas that worm their way under my skin and stir those places oft left in darkness or unspoken, this description resonated in a way that helped articulate and validate many of the feelings and experiences I’ve been having on my own creative journey. I yearn to embrace those parts of my psyche that thrive more in my subconscious than on the surface. That is, until I either face them in my writing and filmmaking or in the taking-in of someone else’s exploratory work.

Later in the same article, Scorsese elaborates on his perception and interpretation of what constitutes a great film. And I wholeheartedly concur:

“In truly great films — the ones that people need to make, the ones that start speaking through them, the ones that keep moving into territory that is more and more unfathomable and uncomfortable — nothing’s ever simple or neatly resolved. You’re left with a mystery.” 

This describes most of my favorite films, as well as what I strive to achieve –in some small, personal way– in my writing and filmmaking. Ironically enough, these are also the very same qualities that many others have focused on in their negative criticisms of both my favorite films and my own attempts at self-reflection and self-expression via my writing.

But the exploration of these uncomfortable places and the mysteries they leave behind have always been, and will remain, what drives me.

Imogen Sara Smith Delves Into 3 Powell/Pressburger Films

Every once in a while, I like to highlight someone else’s post. Particularly when it is well-written, insightful and extremely intelligent. Ms. Smith’s observations on the inner and outer workings of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s THE LIFE AND DEATH OF COLONEL BLIMP, I KNOW WHERE I’M GOING and A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH are just that.

Three of my all-time favorite Powell/Pressburger films are broken down in this wonderful and sumptuous post. Like a good meal. Bon Appetit.

http://brightlightsfilm.com/79/79-powell-pressburger-colonel-blimp-i-know-where-im-going-storytelling.php

Imogen Sara Smith

Kubrick & Burgess: Two Clockworks

I recently responded to a friend’s Facebook post commenting on the differences between Anthony Burgess’ novel A CLOCKWORK ORANGE and filmmaker Stanley Kubrick’s adaption of the material. I tried to describe why I thought the changes that were made by Kubrick were valid and why I saw his concentration on sex and sexuality in the film (compared to the novel) as being so crucial and important an element.

What I wrote was a combination of my own thoughts and observations, mixed with ideas raised in conversation with others and, finally, other notions and observations made by professional critics, both contemporary and at the time of the film’s release.

Here is my response as I sent it. I repost it here simply as a conversation starter and because I so enjoy this type of discussion. I hope you do, too:

I think it’s important to see the film of CLOCKWORK within the context of the time in which it was made. Newfound sexuality, the sexual revolution, sexual conversations were out there in a way that was the antithesis of where they had been in the years just prior to this period. Sexual violence was also something that was finally being discussed as opposed to swept under the rug. I think it does a disservice to Kubrick to think of him as unsophisticated or adolescent. I think he’s one of the few directors for which these terms do not apply. Don’t mix up commentary on a subject for being a justification or acting out of a subject. As for subtlety, the film may be more subtle than you think in this regard. The simple fact that some people saw the film as “cool” or “got off on it” is extremely telling. I don’t think Kubrick himself was making the film to elicit such responses. He was making it in reaction to such responses and raising the topic for conversation. That said, subtlety is not a requirement for me in storytelling. Though it’s something I admire greatly. But there have been many masters of filmmaking who are not known for subtlety. In fact, quite the opposite. The great David Lean being one of them. Never subtle, but almost always amazing.

What Kubrick wanted to address in CLOCKWORK reflected what he saw in society. He wasn’t trying to simply adapt Burgess’ ideas or vision. He was “interpreting” them to what he felt was important and contemporary. In his eyes. A great book should leave one thinking, asking questions. The end of a book should be (in my opinion) the beginning of a journey for the reader in life. Burgess’ book sent Kubrick on his own journey which, for me, is incredibly appropriate and exactly what I would want from him. That said, I think that Burgess and Kubrick did say many of the same things and I don’t feel the film is as far removed from the book as you do. There have been a few films that were direct, literal adaptations of books and, in many cases, those films did not work for some of us as well as other adaptations that tried to capture the “essence” of the material as opposed to transcribing it directly. It’s another medium and another storyteller at work. One could not adapt a painting into a film and expect them to be the same.

Burgess wrote the novel 10 years before Kubrick turned it into a film. There were great cultural shifts in those 10 years which are reflected in Kubrick’s adaptation. Burgess’ wife had been raped after the war and a lot of what’s in his book comes from an autobiographical perspective. Kubrick is taking in the story via his own experiences, as we all do, and what the characters and story mean for him. As for the book’s ending, Kubrick was more of a pessimist with a sense of the ironic than was Burgess. That is why he kept the ending he did (he did read Burgess’ other ending). The film reflects the social anxieties and political concerns of its time. Not to mention, fashions, styles, etc. The naked women furniture in the Korova Milkbar were inspired by sculptures (by Allen Jones) that had been on display and gaining lots of attention. Again, Kubrick was making a commentary. Even Alex’s costume in the film was very different from the description in the book. Kubrick was making a commentary on a certain type of cricket-playing English gentleman.

Filmmaker Fellini stated of CLOCKWORK “I was very predisposed against the film. After seeing it, I realized it is the only movie about what the modern world really means.” Again, I think it’s crucial to take the film in under the context of the times. And to give Kubrick some credit. He was never a flippant filmmaker. And he, unlike many other filmmakers today, dealt with sexuality directly and in ways that were often misunderstood (EYES WIDE SHUT). Also, Burgess was a Christian and came from that perspective. Kubrick, on the other hand, was more of a pessimist and saw the State as using many of its most violent and disturbed individuals to maintain control. Alex’s droogies becoming policemen and Alex himself being hired by the Minister of the Interior at the film’s end. Kubrick was always very vocal in regards to politicians and the military and their use of “collecting” violent individuals to enact their needs and maintain control. Again, look at the political and social upheavals, the wars, police actions, taking place at the time. Alex and his droogies are “evil” but also very human. Are they so different from a society that acts similarly but in the name of morality?

Alex is the Id. And I think any portion of him that we may recognize (consciously or, more important, unconsciously) in ourselves is a very scary notion which quite easily elicits anger and a condemnation of the film itself instead of an exploration of what it evokes in us as human beings and members of society. Alex also has some very noble and attractive qualities: he’s witty, smart, VERY much “alive,” not to mention his deep appreciation for music. Another thing to consider is that Kubrick uses films of violence as the tool with which to try and control Alex. They are the government’s form of propaganda. Kubrick is HIGHLY aware of the power of film and of violence in film. And he says as much in this sequence. He is making a commentary on his own medium and, in a way, the very film he is making.

Kubrick also chooses to comment on how open-sexuality, which had until recently been a rebellious act, had now become incredibly casual. This is one reason for the imagery in the home of the woman he kills with the penis statue. CLOCKWORK is also, in many ways, satirical. It can not –should not– be taken at face value. No Kubrick film should if it is to be understood and its many secrets revealed. And yes, there is a journey that needs to be taken in order to get to that place. But it is a journey I, as a lover of film and filmmaking, find wholly worthwhile.

And I absolutely think Kubrick’s vision is about “choice.” The entire film suggests that to try and make Alex good, they are, in fact, making him less than human. And their tactics are equally as horrific as Alex’s own. “It is necessary for man to have choice to be good or evil, even if he chooses evil. To deprive him of this choice is to make him something less than human — A clockwork orange.” –Stanley Kubrick.

In his write-up on A CLOCKWORK ORANGE at the time in “The Catholic News,” John E. Fitzgerald wrote: “The film seems to say that to take away a man’s choice is not to redeem him but merely to restrain him. Otherwise we have a society of oranges, organic but working like clock-work. Such brainwashing organic and psychological, is a weapon, that to totalitarians in state, church or society might wish for an easier good even at the cost of individual rights and dignity. Redemption is a complicated thing and change must be motivated from within rather than imposed from without if moral values are to be upheld. But Kubrick is an artist rather than a moralist and he leaves it to us to figure what’s wrong and why, what should be done and how it should be accomplished.” 

Accusing Filmmakers of Self-Indulgence & Other Storytelling Obstacles

Anyone familiar with my posts knows that I strongly dislike the term “pretentious” when used in the context of a negative connotation to put down the work of an artist. I believe it to be incredibly damaging, not only to the artist and their work, but to the artistic community at large. In truth, it says far more about the accuser than it does the recipient, but it nonetheless creates an atmosphere of fear that will keep many an artist from exploring their work more deeply out of fear that they will be mocked, that their heartfelt effort, their daring and risk-taking will be deemed pretentious. Of course, “pretentious” has no real meaning unless one is personally familiar with the artist and their intentions and can speak directly to that. Simply viewing an artist’s work and deeming it pretentious is to, quite simply, misuse the word.

The same goes for the term “self-indulgent.” At least when used in a negative context.

I recently saw Paul Thomas Anderson’s newest film THE MASTER. Before seeing it, I had heard all types of reactions to the film. Those who loved it, considered it the best film they’d seen all year. Others who hated it, found it boring or meandering, didn’t understand the point. All are valid reactions. The only response I took offense to was from a producer acquaintance of mine who railed against the film for being “self-indulgent.” Her interpretation was that the filmmaker didn’t care about the audience, that he willingly went forward and made a film that would alienate its audience and didn’t seem to care. She explained that a filmmaker must consider the audience first.

I could not possibly disagree more. I’m not saying that a filmmaker should not care about his or her audience, but I do not believe that second-guessing an audience’s reaction is the best way to create meaningful films. Or any type of art. And let’s be honest here, considering whether your film may or may not alienate some people is to second-guess their reaction. Second-guessing is fraught with far more dangers than trusting your gut, following your instinct. At the very least, second-guessing will likely hold you back from taking risks, from truly exploring what’s inside you if you worry that some people may feel alienated or not “get” your work. What a tragic world that would be to live in. But that is exactly what contemporary Hollywood uses as its filmmaking model. Films geared toward the lowest-common-denominator; stories made up of a conglomeration of scenes and story-lines from other successful movies rearranged into something “new” yet painfully, lifelessly familiar.

Self-indulgence is a necessity to artistic endeavor. Who else, if not ourselves, are we indulging? Now I’m talking art here, not commerce. If your only goal is money, then second-guessing the audience is exactly your business model. THAT is your skill, your craft, your talent. It is a completely valid approach, but don’t expect the fruits of that particular enterprise to result in truly captivating, original cinema.

However, if your goal is to make an amazing film, a work of art that reaches out and effects people, to tell the stories that are in your heart, to share with other human beings something primal, something honest and heartfelt that explores the many facets and depths of what it means to be a human being and what it means to be a storyteller in modern society, then one MUST trust that what they want to say and how they want to say it is not so completely outside of the human experience as to alienate the rest of the human race. So we MUST indulge ourselves, we must TRUST that we are at our cores storytellers and that, like dreams themselves, our stories take on many forms, illicit various emotions, some easy to comprehend, others requiring some measure of introspection and exploration. Some are comfortable and pleasant, others churn in our guts and haunt our thoughts, all the while defying expectation or easy explanation.

My comment to my producer friend was that the term “self-indulgence” as a negative connotation is really in the eye of the beholder: one person’s “self-indulgence” is another person’s “masterpiece.” But she disagreed insisting that self-indulgence is self-indulgence and nothing else; there is no other interpretation. Her argument that Paul Thomas Anderson made a film and didn’t care if it alienated audiences is based solely on this producer’s personal experience of feeling alienated and moving on the assumption that that is the reaction of most, if not all, people. That is a singular, personal experience and, even if you know others who have shared it, is in no way a negative reflection on the filmmaker. I know just as many people who loved THE MASTER, who were knocked out by the film, as those who were confused by it, bored by it, found it less than entertaining. I, personally, fall in the former camp. I thought the film was mesmerizing and complex, invigorating and vastly entertaining. I also thought it was the antithesis of the negative connotation of “self-indulgent.” In fact, some of Paul Thomas Anderson’s earlier works I found to be less effective in their attempts to create a meaningful experience, to tell a rich story. All of his films, however, show an artist taking risks, trying new things, exploring new territories both internal and external. There is nothing more that I could ask from a filmmaker. THE MASTER, however, may be the director’s most self-assured film to date. Here is a singular voice, confident in his storytelling capabilities with a clear and distinct vision. If this is the definition of the term “self-indulgence” then I ask that more filmmakers, more artists, engage in self-indulgence so that we as a human race may continue to create great works of art that represent the human condition and our endless desire to explore, to reach beyond the known. My god, where would science be without self-indulgence? Or great meals, or literature, or space-travel, or oceanography, music, exercise, photography, architecture, painting, sculpture… The list is an endless description of the achievements of mankind.

The only thing I find unfortunate about THE MASTER are the people whose reaction to the film is to accuse the director as somehow being irresponsible or selfish in his endeavor to tell this story the way he chose to tell it. That attitude is, in no small way, a suppression of the very art form itself and simply another obstacle to be overcome in a culture that has placed so many ridiculous limitations on what constitutes “proper” filmmaking.

DARK KNIGHT RISES Viewers Mistake Conservative Cinema For Liberal Agenda

Spoiler Alert!

The most amazing thing to me is that people saw THE DARK KNIGHT RISES and accused it of being Liberal Propaganda because the “villain’s” name was Bane. Did they watch the film?!!! THE DARK KNIGHT RISES is the single biggest, most overt piece of Republican propaganda to come out of Hollywood in decades. The villain’s name is spelled BANE, not because it’s a thinly disguised mask for Bain, but because the villain is a plague, a pestilence, a burden. “The Bane of my existence.”

I was also surprised by how many people hated this film. I thought it was the best of the trilogy, richest in character and far more socially, politically and morally complex than any movie of its kind in generations. I found it vastly entertaining and immensely disappointing in its severely Right-wing leanings.

Nolan claims there is no political thought or agenda to the film. Say it enough times and maybe people will believe you. This film has politics oozing out of every pore and crevice.  And unlike the lazy schmucks a la Rush Limbaugh who accuse the film of being Liberal Propaganda simply because they don’t have the patience or brain-capacity to follow the actual plot of the film itself, anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention will realize that the whole Batman series has been a big promoter of conservative thinking. Remember that illegal surveillance system Batman builds and uses despite Morgan Freeman’s objections? The one he “needed” to use to get the job done? For the good of the people, the masses? Even though it was morally and legally wrong? Patriot Act, anyone?

Well, now Nolan’s “villain” seems to have more in common with Occupy Wall Streeters than he has with Bain Capital. Or the Tea Party. Joke’s on us. His “revolution” against the rich fails. Though he frightens the poor and huddled masses into doing his bidding and sentencing the rich to death, he is ultimately leading his “followers” to their own demise. He’s “using” them. He and his followers “demonize” the rich when, in fact, the film suggests by the end that the rich are the ones best equipped to save us, to protect us. He attacks Wall Street, for Christ’s sake! And in doing so, Bane cruelly drains the rich of their bank accounts and leaves them penniless. But when one character suggests they can afford it, another reminds us that it hurts everyone in the long run. And the rich aren’t really helpless are they? No. Through sheer will and belief, they rise up against their attackers, with pride, with dignity, heads held high, so they can go and live “good” lives, “clean” lives, honorable, straight, American lives.

Bain Capital is known for putting people out of work. Buying companies, increasing their debt, paying out handsomely to Bain itself while closing most of those businesses and displacing workers. Bane, in the film, offers those out-of-work, lower-class citizens a place to gather, to thrive, to work. Very little Bain about it. Meanwhile, Batman has developed a new source of energy that he is afraid to share. Much like the argument that we shouldn’t be sharing nuclear resources with Iran. “In the hands of the wrong person…” That person turns out to be Miranda (along with Bane), who gets control over the new energy source under false pretenses (wants to develop safe energy), THEN turns it into a bomb. That makes her a terrorist. And liberals have been accused by conservatives of being too lenient on potential terrorists. The argument with Iran is that they are building the means with which to build a bomb under the guise of wanting to create safe energy for their country. Sound familiar? Many conservatives, both here and abroad, think we should stop them now and not wait until it’s too late. Obama is the one who is accused of letting them “get too close” to having a nuclear bomb. Add to all this the fact that it is a Russian helping them complete their task.

Then there’s Commissioner Gordon who is accused of being a “war-time” commissioner. Because there’s no longer a “visible war” going on, he is considered outdated by his superiors who want to replace him. It turns out, of course, that Gordon is right and the city –the world– is attacked and his war-time thinking is now much needed. Always has been. But the public at large had been lured into a false sense of security. This is VERY much in sync with accusations that the Obama Administration is being too lenient, is not doing enough to prevent terrorism, wanting to cut the military budget, close Guantanamo, etc.

Catwoman. She ultimately joins forces with Batman, doesn’t she? And Batman’s comments about “no guns, no killing?” Catwoman gets the final word on that when she saves his sorry ass with a gun and some killing (of Bane, misunderstood leader of the OWS movement who is more motivated by misplaced anger, hatred and repression –slavery?– than by any real care for the people) and then lets us know that she’ll be keeping her guns and not buying into Batman’s gentler philosophy. Nice try, Caped Crusader.

And remember, Bane’s demise is his bleeding heart for that poor little girl he saved from poverty and repression, who grew up to be rich and powerful out of spite, and who uses her new power to finish her father’s work. Eerily familiar to accusations of Obama wanting to take on his father’s “anti-colonialism crusade.” Remember, she’s the one who pretends to be our friend, –so smart, so articulate– then, quite literally, STABS us in the back!

And it’s Bane who insists imprisoned criminals are actually repressed individuals who should be freed. Again, a conservative interpretation of a common liberal agenda to end the death penalty, close Guantanamo, and be more “lenient” on criminals they don’t see as hazardous to the public at large (but who are, in fact, represented as an angry mob of killers and thieves who bring lawlessness to the streets).

All this said, there is enough acknowledgement of the flaws in today’s Republican Party and some of the choices that have been made. It’s not ALL black and white. There are some very interesting grey areas and that’s part of what makes the film so damned fascinating and conversation-worthy. Conversation-worthy! THAT must be why no one likes the film! Hell, who wants to be challenged to think? Thought-provoking as I found it and as entertained as I was, I also feel a bit dirty as the film clearly lands with a vision that far more strongly favors a conservative course of action. For example, the film acknowledges that people are out of work. But it suggests that their desperation and anger has led them to follow the wrong path. When Bruce Wayne is left penniless but still gets to keep his mansion, it’s his “enemy’” that comments when the rich suffer they don’t “really” suffer. But it’s Bruce Wayne who we sympathize with. If he loses his home, the Bat Cave, he cannot help us. We don’t want to see him lose any more than he already has. The film does a good job in acknowledging other viewpoints, courses of reason, it understands where the anger comes from, why people are disillusioned, but it suggests that the conclusions of those people –their chosen course of action– is ultimately wrong, misguided, and dangerous.

To call this film Liberal Propaganda is to have not actually watched the film at all. However, THOSE accusations against the film exist and persist. And as a result,  THE DARK KNIGHT RISES elicits an undesired and –I’m willing to bet– unexpected effect in that it unintentionally points out the ridiculousness and stupidity, the sheer lack of intelligent thought that goes into the accusations made by most of the Conservative Party’s loudest voices.

They don’t even recognize an ally when they see one.

 

Great American Films Still Get Made, They’re Just Hard To Find: Lonergan’s 3-Hr MARGARET

“Kenny, you made a masterpiece. Unfortunately it’s in the wrong decade and the wrong country.”

These were actor Mark Ruffalo’s words to writer/director Kenneth Lonergan upon seeing the 3-hour cut of Lonergan’s film MARGARET.

For those who don’t know, playwright Lonergan’s second film (his first was the incredibly well-received YOU CAN COUNT ON ME, also starring Ruffalo), underwent a tremendous journey from script to screen. The epic urban tale was filmed in 2005 by Lonergan and lingered in an interminably long editing limbo. Lonergan had a difficult time finding the cut that worked for him; an artist struggling to find his vision while financiers and a studio breathed down his neck. Not that Lonergan was a victim here. His needs (to be left alone to do the work) are a lot to ask when so much time and money is on the line. Something Lonergan is well-aware of. And he seems to carry little resentment over how things went down. He seems to understand all-too-well the role he played in the film’s history.

“Nobody really did anything wrong, exactly, it’s just everyone was very frightened and nervous. Some people can have fights and then go back to work; I have a big fight and I shake for the rest of the day. Or even if it’s not a fight, it’s just a conversation, and a problem comes up I think about that [constantly], so I very much need to be left alone completely and that’s the one thing that’s very difficult for people. Understandably. I mean, write a cheque for $12 million dollars and you wanna make sure it’s going to come out all right, it’s reasonable. But I need to find a way to separate the two things… Not that it was all bad, the film came out very well, I’m happy with the result and I’m happy that people seem to like it. So I don’t know what more I can ask for. Except to be younger.”

Producer Scott Rudin pushed Lonergan to complete his cut until he finally realized what was happening:

“Kenny’s not a guy who takes distractions well or easily. He’s somebody who is highly concentrated on the work and not at all interested in the politics. So when the politics started to become noisier than the work, that was hard for him.”

Lonergan was contracted to deliver a two and a half hour film. Financier/producer Gary Gilbert stepped in when this seemed like an impossibility and commissioned a 2-hr cut from a different editor. This satisfied no one but the financier himself. Finally, in the fall of 2008, Lonergan delievered a 2-1/2 hr cut that everyone but Gilbert signed off on. Many say Gilbert didn’t sign off out of bitterness and a vindictive nature due to the negative response to his handling of Lonergan and his insistence of his own 2-hour cut as the preferred version of the film. Gilbert refused to pay his half of the $12.5 million budget. Lawsuits ensued.

According to Rudin:

“The guy who pays for the movie is not supposed to be [in the editing room]. . . . He’s a guy who wrote a check. Mr. Gilbert badly hurt the movie. Mr. Gilbert going in and working in the editorial department was a very destructive act… If you’re making a movie with Kenny Lonergan and you sign off on the script, he’s the director, that’s the contract you made. Because you decide that you’re anxious about your investment, that doesn’t give you the right to completely recalibrate your relationship.”

Martin Scorsese and his longtime editor Thelma Schoonmaker (both friends and supporters of Lonergan’s) were brought in to the editing room to heal wounds and delivered a 160 minute cut that everyone signed off on, including Lonergan, but again Gilbert refused. Mark Ruffalo:

“There comes a point where people cut off their nose to spite their face, and I certainly witnessed that. Whatever bad blood went down between them, I never felt like Gary ever got over it and actually tried to ensure that the movie and Kenny would be harmed.”

So with three cuts now in limbo and still no version really satisfying Lonergan’s vision, the film ended up in cinema purgatory for a total 6 years, unseen by a curious public confused by the many behind-the-scenes tales.

Eventually, in the fall of 2011, Lonergan’s own 2-1/2 hour cut of the film was released with almost no marketing. It disappeared almost immediately. A twitter campaign fueled by fans and critics resurrected the film for another theatrical release in October of that same year. But it was too-little too-late and the film was barely recognized by the public at large.

Lonergan

Now, the 2-1/2 hour cut has been released on DVD and Blu-ray. But Lonergan’s 3 hr cut has also been released, though you will not find it streaming or for rental. It is available ONLY on DVD and ONLY on the DVD/Blu-ray Combo pack sold on Amazon. And while this is not being marketed as a Director’s Cut but as an Extended Cut, it is widely considered the cut to see as it seems to be the version that comes closest to capturing Lonergan’s vision.

In the writer/director’s own words:

“It’s not a director’s cut. We’re calling it an extended cut. It’s a different version. A director’s cut is where they take the movie away from you and chop it to pieces and send it out without your permission…This is just another version with a little bit more of everything in it.”

Matt Damon, who is one of the film’s many notable stars, explains:

“One of the reasons this took so long is because [Lonergan] didn’t want to give up and he’s put his whole soul into this thing to the exclusion of any other work he could have been doing. And it wasn’t a triumph at the end because they weren’t able to release his version.”

Well, now that version is available. But sadly, that availability is limited and will still only be seen by a select few “in the know.” So, while it’s great that we finally get to see the film, there is still a battle to find a way to put this cut of the film out there for others to access, to discover, to be potentially moved by (not to mention to see it in Hi-def on Blu-ray). In a country where surface mediocrity is lauded as deep and introspective (THE DESCENDANTS, UP IN THE AIR), it’s a shame that one of the greatest contemporary American films has gotten so lost, so mismanaged, so belittled. Academy voters were either unaware or indifferent. Not that an award is the be-all and end-all of any work of art, but it does offer an opportunity to raise awareness of a film’s existence. But then the question comes into play as to whether the average American movie-goer would even get that they were in the presence of one of the greatest American films to come along in years. Very few contemporary films suggest that Americans as filmmakers and filmwatchers are capable of any level of depth or insight. More than not, most American films showcase our unwillingness to dig beneath the surface, to understand anything but the most literal, the most blatant. This was not always the case, but it appears we have somehow managed to devolve into such a state. It’s not that there aren’t daring writers and filmmakers out there, it’s just that the battle to get those films made, no less released, is near-impossible. The corporatization of the industry combined with a slow infantalization and anti-intellectualization of the populace has culminated in a rather hostile creative landscape. To quote Ruffalo again, “it’s in the wrong decade and the wrong country.”

Of the three best contemporary films I’ve seen recently, only MARGARET is American-made. The other two, CERTIFIED COPY and NORWEGIAN WOOD, are both foreign-made, foreign-language films. Only the 3-hour cut of MARGARET represents the artistic potential and expressive sensibility present in our country and, as stated already, most Americans are completely unaware of its existence and will have a hard time seeing it even if they are. And, by any contemporary standard, the film’s an anomaly; films like MARGARET rarely, if ever, get made here. And when they do, birthing them is usually an extraordinarily painful process and these babies are reviled as bastard children or stillbirths by the masses (certainly by the corporate powers-that-be). But thankfully, there are those who recognize their beauty and their innate humanity and fight vigorously and tirelessly to see these children find their proper place in the world. And that’s where our hope for the future lies. But it’s a staggering uphill battle.

Then there are those who recognized something extraordinary in Lonergan’s theatrical cut who have not been able to make the leap to the three hour cut. I’ve read online a number of self-proclaimed reviewers mourning the longer cut as “ruining” a masterpiece. They complain about “unnecessary” imagery of people walking the streets of N.Y., of the soundscape of the film having been changed to no longer focus exclusively on the main characters, but on the people in the world around them. I have heard complaints of too many shots of planes and buildings and of the 3-hour cut’s use of opera music. We have become so unaccustomed to anything but the most patent and transparent that we have lost sight of subtext, of metaphor, of cinematic language. I cannot imagine MARGARET without the scenes of our main character Lisa walking among the throngs of New Yorkers, her voice, her story, no more important than the voices and stories taking place all around her. This is a film about a teenager slowly coming to the realization that she is not the center of the universe. That her life is no more or less important than the lives of those around her. She is literally becoming aware of the world she lives in.

As for the opera music and scenes, the entire film centers around how teenagers often see their experiences as taking place in a melodramatic world; they hear the histrionic scores of their lives as they stumble their way through a rather self-centered world on the brink of shattering with no real understanding or perception of the consequences of their actions. This isn’t a judgement, but an observation. Without this, the film loses one of its most powerful threads thus weakening the final moments of this beautiful, touching and emotionally poignant film. After all, the movie is titled MARGARET, who is not a character in the film, but taken from a Gerard Manley Hopkins poem titled “Spring and Fall: To a young child:”

   Margaret, are you grieving 
   Over Goldengrove unleaving? 
   Leaves, like the things of man, you 
   With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? 
   Ah! as the heart grows older 
   It will come to such sights colder 
   By and by, nor spare a sigh 
   Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; 
   And yet you will weep and know why. 
   Now no matter, child, the name: 
   Sorrow’s springs are the same. 
   Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed 
   What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed: 
   It is the blight man was born for, 
   It is Margaret you mourn for.

THIS is what the film’s about at its heart, in its soul, and all the pieces Lonergan has placed back into his Extended Cut and all the changes he’s made from the shorter version work toward enhancing this theme, both emotionally, practically and aesthetically. The shorter version is, while still extraordinary, more “conventional” than the longer cut. Certainly less poetic. And, as a result, it lacks the nuances of its sibling.

For example: Planes and buildings… The film takes place in a world still reeling from the aftermath of 9/11: the violence and suffering, the trauma, the fear, pain, longing and need for retribution that so many felt in the years following that tragic event. And how we eventually lost some of what we gained through our shared experience. Lonergan:

“Don’t you remember how everybody was slightly more awake or more attuned? You’d hear a car backfire and you’d jump? I remember it took several years before I stopped noticing airplanes. It was sort of like the city was still shaking from it, but also didn’t quite know how to be about it. I feel like it just suddenly supercharged everybody with an awareness that they didn’t have before, but without much more information… In 2003, every time an airplane went by you went ‘Oof,’ felt nervous. That’s not the case any more. That lasted for about 5 years… so [back then] everyone was a bit nervous and on edge. It was a bit different for a few years and unfortunately I don’t think the difference has sunk in in quite the way that I wish it had. For a moment it felt like, I felt like, the U.S. had joined the rest of the world, and then two weeks later all the TV commercials were back and it was all the same again. And I don’t think it’s very different now from how it was in 2000.” 

For anyone who has read any of my other posts either on writing or on film, it should come as no surprise that Lonergan’s MARGARET is my kind of film. My personal journey as a writer has taken me down a path where I have started not only to trust my subconscious throughout the storytelling process, but to consider it my most valued and faithful partner:

“I tried to turn off my conscious mind and that’s why the first draft of the script, it was never meant to be shot, but it was 306 pages, because I let scenes go on. I knew where it was going and I knew where the beats were and I just kind of closed my eyes, and it’s amazing what happens when you do that. I had a wonderful time writing it and it was very easy to cut a hundred pages out of it in two weeks — you know when she goes to see the bus driver in Brooklyn, that scene is probably six pages long and it was sixteen pages long when I wrote it.”

The growth Kenneth Lonergan has shown from his first feature to his second is monumental. Where YOU CAN COUNT ON ME had a terrific script with terrific performances, it was most certainly directed by someone whose hand had not yet steadied to the cinematic craft, though Lonergan himself is a lover of cinema, particularly classic. With MARGARET, Lonergen has made one of the most profound, insightful and emotionally gripping pieces of cinema to come out of the heart and mind of an American filmmaker in years. It is the greatest reflection of who and what we are, of how we see and experience the world. This is a film that showcases what American filmmakers are capable of beyond our technological prowess. I urge you to find a way to see it.

In its full 180 minute Extended Cut version, of course.

Sources:

Kenneth Lonergan on Margaret | Film interview, TimeOut Chicago

Kenneth Lonergan Discusses The Changes In The New Cut Of ‘Margaret,’ Digital Vs. Film, 3D & More, IndieWire

Kenneth Lonergan On The Inspirations, Performances, Resonances & Structure Of ‘Margaret’, IndieWire

Kenneth Lonergan’s Thwarted Masterpiece, NY Times