| From
Tehelka Magazine, Vol 5, Issue 30, Dated Aug 02, 2008 |
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| CULTURE & SOCIETY |
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interview |
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‘The
more you tell a story, the richer it gets’
MEENAKSHI
SHEDDE meets iconic Hollywood film director and screenwriter
Paul Schrader and comes away convinced that there is definitely a Bollywoodwallah
in there
MY
MARRIAGE BROKE, I was in debt, I had an ulcer, I had no place to stay,
I had quit the American Film Institute. I spent three weeks cruising in
my car along the sewers of the city. I was living in a metal box, surrounded
by people, but absolutely alone. I came to screenplay writing as self-therapy,”
begins Paul Schrader, acclaimed Hollywood screenwriter (Taxi Driver, Raging
Bull, Last Temptation of Christ). “I wrote about a taxi driver who
was full of anger, suicidal. I needed the power of art: if I didn’t
separate from this person, he was becoming me or I was becoming him. That’s
how I created Travis Bickle,” he says, of the character memorably
etched by Robert de Niro, in the film Taxi Driver, directed by Martin
Scorsese.
As his life became
art, Schrader used screenwriting to understand and take control of his
problems. Problems can be painful, but it’s a good pain, he says.
“When screenwriting, be prepared to drop your pants and show your
dirty laundry. If you can’t do that, better find yourself something
more polite,” he warns. Schrader has made a career of being impolite,
with a large body of work in both screenwriting (21 films), as well as
direction (18 films) and his films have won swarms of prizes, including
an Oscar for Affliction, Golden Palm nomination for Mishima: A Life in
Four Chapters, Golden Bear nominations for Hardcore and Light Sleeper,
and a Golden Globe nomination for American Gigolo. He was in Delhi last
week to attend the 10th Osian’s Cinefan Festival of Asian and Arab
cinema (July 10-20), where Taxi Driver and Mishima were screened, and
where he gave a “master class” on screenwriting and a lecture
on new media.
Schrader pads into
his own press conference at Osian’s in a black shirt, brief black
shorts revealing hairy legs, and plastic Croc sandals — as if he
were headed for the beach in Goa rather than a press conference at Siri
Fort, New Delhi. Although his carefully dressed-down body language seems
to drip casual scorn — and he insists on a simultaneous, joint interview
by 10 print journalists — he soon warms to his subject.
film, Adam Resurrected,
an Israeli- German co-production. “It is set in a mental hospital
for Holocaust survivors,” he says, “and its protagonists are
a man who was once was a Commandant’s ‘dog’ during the
Nazi era — chained and walking on all fours — who encounters
another ‘dog’, a 12-year-old boy, who was raised like a dog,
in a basement, on a chain. It’s about a man who used to be a dog
and a dog who used to be a boy, and they recognise each other as dogs.”
How splendid that a Hollywood director would direct, and find producers
for, such a promisingly off-kilter subject.
Although solidly part
of the Hollywood establishment — he loves to casually drop names
like Bob and Marty (Robert de Niro and Martin Scorsese) — it is
delightful that he acknowledges the power of oral storytelling, a centuries’-old
tradition in India. “Screenwriting can be a formal affair, but many
screenplays are not really written at all. They’re part of the oral
tradition and I know many Indian directors don’t write scripts either,”
he drawls.
“I just finished
a screenplay, Tree of Smoke, about a retired CIA man,” he continues.
“Bob had done a film on the CIA, and he put me in touch with his
contacts. When I met the CIA guy and was relating my story to him, I did
not have an ending. But as I narrated my story, I figured out the ending.
Oral storytelling is important: the more you tell a story, the richer
and more complex it gets.” Suddenly, this Hollywood Bob-and-Martywallah
seems a tad more of an apun ka aadmi, doing “script narration”
like a proper Bollywoodwallah (even Ashutosh Gowariker did it for Aamir
Khan for Lagaan), instead of scoffing at the “unprofessional Bollywood
folly” of making films without a bound script.
More modesty is to
come. “I’m not a real writer,” he insists. “You’re
a real writer if you write every day. I’ve written two screenplays
this year, but for three years earlier, I didn’t write any screenplays
at all.” He takes two to three weeks to work on an idea, then a
month to flesh it out. “If the story says to you, I don’t
want to be written or I’m getting sick of being told or I’m
bored, just stop,” he suggests. “Sometimes, the idea will
go away, and that’s a pretty good day. You’ve just saved six
months slaving on a screenplay that doesn’t work.”
Is it frustrating
that despite his body of work in screenwriting and direction, the public’s
reference point is still Taxi Driver, which he wrote 32 years ago? “It
is a blessing that Taxi Driver is a classic and a touchstone of world
cinema, as a lot of directors go through whole careers without getting
the sense of affirmation that it
gave me,” he admits.
However, as a director,
he remains ruthless with the scriptwriter. “After I’ve been
director of 18 films, I don’t often get asked to write scripts,”
he says. “As director, I rewrite everything the scriptwriter gives
me. Hollywood unions insist that you can get a writer’s credit only
if one-third of the film is your brand new contribution, and a director’s
credit only if half the film is your brand new contribution.”
The best screenplays,
says Schrader, “take place on a sidewalk outside the cinema. If
he says, ‘The movie was kinda crap,’ and she says, ‘No,
it was not crap…,’ then the movie’s still happening.
If he says, ‘What d’you wanna eat?’ then the movie’s
over. If you can get the viewer to be part of your creative process, it
becomes memorable. But that’s the opposite of what so many Hollywood
films allow. Everything is explained, and there are no questions unanswered.”
Reflecting on the
future of screenwriting, he says, “The weakest writing in America
today is in the movies, the best writing is on TV, in series like The
Sopranos. That’s because scripts for TV are about human beings and
human behaviour, not a journey to the centre of the earth. Movies have
become less and less about good writing and more and more about spectacle,
so the importance of the screenwriter has declined. The most spirited
dialogues in spectacle films are lines like: “Look, it’s coming”
or “Run, run, run.” When I started out in the film business
about 30 years ago, there was a crisis of content. Now there is a crisis
of form, with films on DTH, internet downloads, and so on. But as screen
sizes become small — TV, cable, computers, mobile phones —
spectacle will become less important, and the importance of the screenwriter
will be re-established.”
What does it tell
him about Indian cinema, when Hollywood has been doing business in India
for over a century, but still has barely eight percent of the Indian market?
“You’re lucky”, he shrugs. Although he acknowledges
that the Bollywood cult is spreading, he admits he doesn’t know
what it would take for an Indian film to make it internationally. “Probably
a bit of luck.” Talking of Indian cinema, he says, “I saw
Bride and Prejudice, and liked it a lot,” but doesn’t sound
convincing.
Before we finish,
a cub reporter asks him sweetly, “Do you like cats or dogs?”
“Dogs,” he answers graciously. We hope she won’t be
sacked for forgetting to ask him which label he wore to the Oscars.
Meenakshi
Shedde is a national award-winning film critic and key advisor on Indian
cinema to the Cannes, Berlin, Venice and Toronto film festivals
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