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FELDMAN
INTERVIEW |
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Part
2 |
Arne
Zaslove interviews filmmaker John Feldman
Interactive
Interview Part 2: film
itself, structure, ending,
darkness, music,
fight
scene, love
ARNE:
Let's talk around the film itself
for just a moment. I have to say that I find it a tremendously
re-watchable film. As in "Dead Funny" you play around
a lot with memory, can you comment on that?
Yes, they are
both very much about memory and how we create our lives in our
memories. But they are really very different in the way they look
at memory. "Bobby Roos" takes place entirely in Bobby's
mind except for the epilogue, while in "Dead Funny" the
film takes place both in Viv's mind and in a "reality"
tense. So "Dead Funny's" structure is considerably more
complex. Aside from the interior of the cabin, there is no
"reality" tense in "Bobby Roos." In
"Bobby Roos," we first see Bobby in the cabin and we
follow the story as he remembers it. So, naturally, it returns to
the cabin in the end, completing a circle.
ARNE: How
did this structure come about, without a script? Was it in the
original treatment?
No, the
treatment only told a basic plot: the heckler, the Emily love
affair, and then ended with something like the wrist slashing
scene. In front of the computer, in the "writing" stage,
I created the structure into which that story falls. In fact, for
a long time I resisted giving the film a flashback kind of
structure, because I felt I had done that enough in "Dead
Funny." I didn't want to repeat myself. But as I got into the
issues involved in putting together this story, I realized that it
had to all be taking place in his head, and I decided my best bet
-- in trying to make the film work -- was to draw upon what I had
learned in "Dead Funny."
ARNE:
I think it's a tremendous structure and very clear -- and it's
unusual -- because of the ending. Tell me about the ending. How
did it come about?
You know...
it's true... the ending is unusual... and in way I have to admit
that it's a bit awkward, structurally, but it's the only ending
that makes any sense to me... that I can live with for the rest of
my life. The ending was the biggest issue for us. We tried putting
on an ending that wrapped everything up in a nice little ball, the
way good endings generally do, but the whole film fell flat. I was
committed to having a very honest ending. In my heart I felt --
and I still do -- that I had to be true to Roger's own situation.
I had to give an honest answer to the question: what is the best
thing Bobby can do to get himself back on his feet? And the answer
is the same as for any addict: they have to totally give up
whatever it is that's haunting them, one day at a time, and try to
change their life. It takes tremendous strength and it takes
support from others.
ARNE: And
that's what Bobby does when he puts all his wigs and props away
and covers up the mirrors.
Exactly. In a
way they are the clearest allegorical statements in the film. So
getting back to the ending, I was determined to give the film a
positive ending, even a happy ending -- which my other films have
not had -- but I was afraid of giving it too much of a
"happily ever after" ending.
ARNE: You
achieved that. It's hopeful, but not saccharin.
Thanks. In
essence it's saying that when one finally makes a commitment to
"better oneself" -- to pull oneself up by one's own
bootstraps -- all sorts of wonderful things start to happen, good
things which are totally unpredictable, and which you couldn't
have engineered if you'd tried. Like running into your long lost
love just when you need her ... or him... the most, and connecting
or rather re-connecting. What's so wonderful about the scene we
staged with Annabelle is that the Katherine she created had gone
through as much hell as Bobby. That's why the story about her in
the car is so important. It would have been corny if his Katherine
turned out to be this totally together, all-American kind of
sweet-heart who was ready to take him under her wing and help him
back to normalcy. No way. She's tentative and cautious and knows
enough to know that getting involved with Bobby Roos could lead to
lots of heartache.
ARNE: And,
of course, Katherine has the final word. Is that line hers or
yours?
Hers.
"That's all you can do, is start." Last lines, to me,
are as important in a film as first lines and I never could have
written one so perfect as that. It was written in a moment of
inspiration by Annabelle as she lived the moment. It's a
tremendously life affirming statement. And it's true: all one can
do is start, whatever it is, that's the only totally free action
one can do, the rest is in the hands of...well... the universe.
Arne: I
guess the film also includes some of Annabelle Larsen's true
story?
Well, in a way
yes. She, like the father, "play themselves" ... but I
don't try to get inside their heads... and that's a big
difference.
I didn't get
the idea to introduce Annabelle into the story until we were well
into it. It's such an obvious idea... and then being able to use
the "Alligator Eyes" footage -- which of course makes it
all the more bizarre, because the ending implies in a way that
he's still living in the movies, except the movie is one that he
acted in.
Arne: Let's
talk for a moment about the film's darkness.
You said that when you were making the film you kept toning it
back, and making it less dark, why was that?
Well, we had
quite a few screenings along the way, and I kept getting feedback
that the film was too hard to take... which I took to mean that it
was too unrelentingly dark. And while I knew that the film had to
be dark, I kept searching for the right level. It was a question
both of content and pacing. The whole flashback structure came
about because I needed a way to introduce the element of calm into
the film. On the other hand, it is a story of a man going about as
far into hell as one can go -- of contemplating suicide and
touching madness -- and then turning his life around. So I
couldn't be afraid of darkness. And, of course, the music plays a
huge role in the emotional pacing of the thing.
ARNE: I have
on my list to talk about the music. Has Sheila
Silver done the music for all of your films?
Yes. The music
is a tremendously important part of the film. It carries a lot of
emotional weight. And, you know, when I first started I kept
saying that we weren't going to have any music at all. Like the
Dogma group. But I don't have dogmas... and besides... music
better than anything else can hint at what's going on inside a
person's mind.
ARNE:
Another great collaboration. Perhaps I should interview Sheila.
Absolutely.
You know part
of the awkwardness of the structure comes because it seems that
the noose scene and the knife scene are redundant. Structurally
they may be repetitive, but I think it's very important to
understand that the knife scene is not a suicide scene. He
couldn't kill himself with a little pocket knife like that... but
he could mutilate himself, which is what madmen do -- which is, in
a way, worse than suicide...
ARNE: Which
is why it comes after the noose scene.
Yes.
ARNE:
Another question on my list is about the fight scene.
It's a very powerful scene and yet there's really not much of a
fight.
Well .... this
could be a long story. Essentially, the main footage of that scene
didn't come out as I had planned. We had placed one light shining
onto the Heckler, but the bulb blew before the fight even started
and we never got a chance to put in a new one... and we couldn't
re-stage it. In a way that was one of those lucky accidents. It
looks much more authentic -- and makes the heckler more mysterious
-- because he isn't lit... we see him in the dark shadows, just as
Bobby does. But still we needed a fight that would be rhythmically
a powerful inciting moment. First I tried just cutting to black as
soon as Bobby charged into the audience, but that didn't work. The
problem was that while we needed the fight to be a "big
deal" structurally, the fight -- as Bobby says later --
really wasn't a big deal: He threw a few punches, maybe got the
guy down onto the floor, but otherwise it was a small fight --
particularly when compared with most fights in film stories. This,
for me, increases the pathos. He really shouldn't have been
black-balled for this event. On the other hand, as Roger is quick
to point out, he did attack a patron and create a lawsuit, which
in the real world -- as opposed to the world of movies -- is a big
deal. The same thing happened when we were working on the slashing
scene. All of a sudden I got nervous that just cutting his wrist
in that little way wasn't that big of a deal, and Roger had to
remind me that it might not be that big of a deal in the movies,
but in real life it is a very big deal.
So our task was
to create a filmic big deal. And I justified for myself that it
should be a big deal filmically by reminding myself that it all
takes place in his head. And in his head he was De Niro attacking
this guy. It was a long process making the fight scene. I think a
real creative breakthrough came when I took some shots we had done
of Bobby as De Niro charging and fighting the camera, edited them
into a two or three minute sequence, put them on my timeline,
scrolled back-and-forth through them very quickly with the mouse,
and recorded it all to tape. I did this a handful of times and
then used the resulting footage as one of the layers in the fight
montage. Because of the way I created this footage there is a sort
of randomness to the fight... making it all the more chaotic and
realistic.
ARNE: I
gather this is a process that couldn't be done if you weren't
working in digital video.
Well it'd be
very hard to get the randomness, but the images could be created
in an optical printer and quite beautifully so. It would have been
a long arduous, frame by frame process that required a lot of
planning -- which much filmmaking is. I guess I'm lucky that I
found another way.
ARNE: I have
on my list here the word "love." You
mentioned to me that "it's all about love," what did you
mean by that?
Well, you know,
"love is all there is." As hard as it is to say that and
keep a straight face, it's true. Bobby wants love from everyone,
which is part of his problem, which makes love both a good and bad
thing. He wants love from his audiences, from Max, from Emily and
Jennifer, and his mother, and, of course his father. And maybe he
gets it with Katherine, but I hope it's clear from that scene that
in order for him to get the love he seeks from Katherine he has to
give love as well... and maybe that'll happen. All they can do is
start.
NEXT
PART OF INTERVIEW - CLICK HERE
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