The Academy Award-nominated screenwriter of 1917, Last Night in Soho and The Good Nurse, Krysty Wilson-Cairns, salutes a series of mishaps that honed Francis Ford Coppola’s unfinished espionage film into a perfect classic.
The foundational years that formed my sense of myself as a writer took place mostly in isolation. Initially in a bedroom, then in a series of bedrooms. Sometimes perhaps punctuated by sessions in the real world, cocooned from it in a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. This useful isolation from the world became, more than anything, a badge of validation. ‘Look! How she squints in the daylight. Gaze upon her ghostly pallor.’ I was serious. I was a writer.
Because at the end of the process I would inevitably emerge back into society with something to show. I would emerge with a screenplay. And without a screenplay, what would the directing students direct, what would the acting students act? As a screenwriting student, I knew the truth. No matter how much the auteur theory was hammered into the directing students and the art of improvisation fed to the actors, the screenplay was key. I understood my work to be something immutable. Sent out in the world complete. Like a painting or a photograph.
The Conversation poster, 1974. Alamy
At that time, my favoured texts were the ones that worked hard to get the win. The sharp, twisty thrillers that showed a masterful corralling of the audience’s attention from beginning to end. Those films that took you one way before pulling the rug out from under you. Most of all, I loved the paranoid thrillers that came out of the USA in the ’70s. Three Days of the Condor, The Parallax View, Klute… films that spun the audience a web of lies and confusion before pulling out the rug from under them and saying, ‘No, this is how it really is.’ Paranoid, anxious, tightly wound. (In no way a reflection of my mind at the time…)
Above them all stood The Conversation. A sparse, taut, tense thriller starring Gene Hackman alongside the late, great John Cazale (can any actor have given so much in such a tragically short career?). With cameos from Frederic Forrest, Robert Duvall, Harrison Ford, Teri Garr and Cindy Willams, The Conversation was at the apex of the talent that defined the New Hollywood of that decade.
Written and directed by the great Francis Ford Coppola, if any film was evidence of the primacy of the screenplay it was The Conversation – 112 minutes of terse, tight character action. Hackman (never better) plays Harry Caul, a reclusive, emotionally closed private investigator who is hired by a mysterious client to record a seemingly mundane conversation. Inevitably the job is not as simple as sold and Harry is left contemplating the morality of his work, along with his role in the world. What feels like very low stakes to begin with soon becomes a matter of life or death.
But that’s not why I loved it. I loved it for the exactitude of the writing. The entire plot hinging on a glorious pay-off at the end that relies on, of all things, intonation of key dialogue. ‘He’d kill us if he got the chance’ is the line you’ll remember from this film. It’s what everything leads towards and, despite its intonation being somewhat lost in the multiple languages in subtitles on the screen during its premiere at Cannes, it still won the Palme D’Or that year – and rightly so. Could anything be more writerly? More illustrative of the primacy of the script, of the screenwriter’s intentionality? That Coppola, the writer, pulls us through his world for almost two whole hours before pulling it all out from under us with something so simple as the emphasis of a pronoun! Except, of course, he didn’t… well not exactly.
Imagine my surprise when at a BFI screening and Q&A, Walter Murch, the film’s sound designer and editor, suggested an alternative. In Murch’s retelling, an entirely different version of Coppola’s film was originally planned: one that stuck closely to a bloated 157-page screenplay. As fate would have it, Coppola was called early to start shooting his next studio tentpole, The Godfather Part II, leaving the much smaller, more experimental The Conversation with 78 scenes yet to be shot. Seventy-eight! And so, Coppola flew off, leaving the existing footage in the very capable, but rather green, hands of the young Walter Murch. Coppola just told Murch: ‘Do what you can.’
The Coversation, 1974. Paramount Pictures/Alamy
None of the scenes in which Harry tracks down the girl, gets all the answers and discovers the real story had been shot. So, the film’s narrative, as it existed in celluloid, in stacked 35mm reels in the editing room, currently had no denouement. Faced with a film missing over a fifth of its screenplay, with little chance of additional shooting days from the studio, and with his director on the other side of the country, Murch did the only thing he could. He tore up the screenplay and worked with what he had.
In one ingenious move, Murch completely redesigned the film’s story and structure. The film’s pivotal scene takes place in the aftermath of a drunken party. The woman Harry has slept with steals the vital recordings, forcing Harry into action and the film towards its conclusion. Only, the way the scene was written (and filmed) was originally much more throwaway – the woman’s role in the film was to validate Harry’s distrust, not further the plot (she originally only steals plans for a recording device for Harry’s competitor).
By thrusting a minor character into the thick of the plot, Murch consolidated the two storylines, and all it took was a single additional shot – a cutaway of Harry’s arms revealing the stolen tape reels. Using Hackman’s brother as a stand-in, Murch recreated the set in a corner of a stage being used by another film that was shooting at the time – Chinatown. They didn’t even have to pay for the camera hire. In that one move, an unwieldy, twisty, 240-minute thriller becomes a tight, sparse, sinewy sub-two-hour masterpiece.
You might ask, as a writer, what of the excised material would I be interested in seeing restored? The answer: none of it. From my current perspective, as one who has emerged from the cave, and who has been on set during the filming and in the edit of all the films I’ve written, I’ve been able to experience first-hand how much the story evolves and needs to evolve during the filmmaking process. I now know all too well that the primacy of the screenplay (much like the auteur theory) is a fallacy. An illusion, to justify those weeks spent in the dark. Typing. Alone. Who am I to assume that whatever motivation I conjured while sitting in my pyjamas will ring true after an actor has brought life to it in front of a camera years later.
If it’s not in the film, it doesn’t exist. The casting, the designing, the actual shooting takes that immutable thing – the screenplay – and whittles it, hones it and sometimes just negates it for something else truer, which is what we see on screen. And that line that I loved, ‘He’d kill us if he got the chance’ – that intonation that expertly shifts emphasis, turning a repeated, innocuous plea into a wilful declaration of violence? A happy accident. A mistake by the actor, marked on the day as a bad take, destined for the cutting-room floor, but that ultimately replaced the work of 78 unshot scenes of slow realisation with the time it takes to say eight words. I like to be efficient when I write, but this is a next level of genius, and a perfect example of the screenwriter’s mantra – show it, don’t tell it. Famous for going back and re-editing his own films, The Conversation was the one film that Coppola had always thought was ‘perfect, just the way it is’. Because of course, it is. It’s perfect. It may have come about through a series of mishaps and the incredible talent of Murch’s editing, but it couldn’t be any other way.
The Conversation, 1974. American Zoetrope/Alamy
Words by KRYSTY WILSON-CAIRNS The Conversation (1974), Paramount Pictures, written and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, starring Gene Hackman. Available on Apple TV
Words and photographs by LAURA SYMONS & DAMIAN HARRIS
It may be winter, but the desert always offers sun. One of our travel correspondents, Laura Symons, takes a spin out of LA with writer/director Damian Harris to find cinematic desert vistas and quirky road trip stops fit for a Chairman and a King.
DAMIAN Los Angeles and the desert: both exist for most of us in the movies or TV, and everyone has their own favourite moment. The first idea I had of the city and the surrounding desert was from Roman Polanski and Robert Towne’s Chinatown, when John Huston told Jack Nicholson (and which was the premise of the film) that, ‘Either you bring the water to LA or you bring LA to the water.’
Chinatown, 1974. Paramount Pictures/Alamy
The trip to the desert means setting off east on Interstate 10, heading towards Palm Springs on the same route as the iconic credit sequence in Paul Schrader’s American Gigolo (1980), with Richard Gere driving his convertible black Mercedes 450SL while Blondie blasts ‘Call Me’, on his way to service another wife (this time while the husband watches). US audiences went crazy when Gere first appeared on screen and a sex icon, especially a gay sex icon, was born. Seven years later in the film adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’ Less Than Zero, the same highway is the setting as the drug-addicted character played by Robert Downey Jr. dies in the front seat of Andrew McCarthy’s red ’59 Chevy Corvette convertible, from a beating drug dealer James Spader gave him, while Jami Gertz looks on helplessly to Thomas Newman’s lush score and the sweeping camera of director Marek Kanievska.
American Gigolo, 1980. Paramount Pictures/Alamy Less Than Zero, 1987. 20th Century Fox/Alamy
More recently, Palm Springs was the setting for the hilarious time-loop comedy of the same name (2020), in which Andy Samberg finds himself replaying the same day at a desert destination wedding, where he intended to off himself. Naturally he finds true love and a renewed zest for life. The opening sequence for Don’t Worry Darling (2022) was filmed in the famous Kaufmann House, and the majority of Olivia Wilde’s film was shot in and around the desert city, made dazzlingly beautiful by cinematographer Matthew Libatique. Liberace’s Palm Springs’ mansion is the setting for the final months of his life in Behind The Candelabra (2013) Steven Soderbergh’s examination of the relationship between Liberace, played by Michael Douglas, and his younger lover Scott Thorson, played by Matt Damon. Both are excellent.
Behind The Candelabra, 2013. HBO Films/Alamy
Palm Springs has been a host to Hollywood legends over the years. After a string of flops and believing his career over, Cary Grant retreated to his home in Palm Springs in 1953 to live out his retirement, that is until frequent house guest Alfred Hitchcock succeeded in luring him back to the screen two years later to star in To Catch A Thief (which kick-started the huge career resuscitation that included North By Northwest, An Affair To Remember and Charade.)
Cary Grant’s House. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
Steve McQueen was a legend when it came to motorbikes (or anything over 80 mph). It was on the desert roads outside Palm Springs, where he lived, and in Joshua Tree that he would ride his beloved motorbikes on the endless empty desert roads for hours, perhaps rehearsing the ending of The Great Escape when he jumps two of the three barbed wire fences, falling at the third.
Elvis Presley was introduced to Palm Springs by his manager Colonel Tom Parker who had a home there. Elvis leased architect William Krisel’s aptly named House of Tomorrow and, with his upcoming marriage to Priscilla, renamed it Elvis Honeymoon Hideaway. He had intended to be married in the house but gossip columnist Rona Barrett’s leak in the press forced the young couple to sneak out late at night on Frank Sinatra’s private jet and instead tie the knot in Vegas. Later, in 1970, Elvis would buy his own home and spend three months a year there till he passed in 1977. The most famous Palm Springs resident was probably Frank Sinatra, (see the 2018 doc Sinatra in Palm Springs). He never made a film there, but he did perform in nightclubs and concert halls both alone and with his Rat Pack. He famously dubbed his Palm Springs home the ‘west coast White House’ in hopes of luring then-President JFK to come stay, even building a helicopter pad with the presidential seal painted on it. JFK did come to stay, but the bait was more likely house guest Marilyn Monroe.
Elvis Honeymoon Hideaway. Laura Symons & Damian HarrisTwin Palms Frank Sinatra Estate. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
About an hour from Palm Springs is Joshua Tree, and a totally different vibe. In the 1940s, Hollywood came to this part of the desert to make western films and TV series, due to it being both a closer and more convenient location than Arizona, Utah and Texas. Pioneertown was born, conceived as both a working set and residential area. Over 50 films and TV shows were made here during the ’40s and ’50s. The desert itself has been a location to several films, one of the more famous is Martin McDonagh’s Seven Psychopaths (2012), where Colin Farrell, Sam Rockwell and Christopher Walken hide out in Joshua Tree from gangster Woody Harrelson, resulting in peyote-inspired desert wanderings and stand-offs. Less famous is the comedy horror film Crack Whore about a young girl who comes to party in Joshua Tree but instead gets into escalating trouble with drugs and gangs. As I said, it’s a different vibe in the desert.
Go directly west till you hit the sea and Laguna Beach, a favourite of Hollywood for its coastal location. In 1942 constrained by a world war, it stood in for Buenos Aires in Bette Davis’ Now, Voyager, later in 1954’s A Star Is Born, Judy Garland and James Mason picnic by the beach and Garland sings ‘It’s a New World’ (both scenes were initially cut from the released version but restored 30 years later). More recently in 2012, Oliver Stone made Laguna Beach fun and sexy in Savages as Blake Lively romped in a threesome with Taylor Kitsch and Aaron Taylor-Johnson (worth seeing also for the over-the-top turns of villains Salma Hayek and Benicio del Toro).
While steeped in movie history, the areas also have plenty to offer any curious visitor. From the sweeping landscapes to extraordinarily kitsch installations, there is much to be enjoyed in the region…
LAURA
In Coachella Valley, an essential stop is Pappy + Harriet’s restaurant which originated in the 1950s as a cantina set built for the many westerns being filmed there (films like Jeopardy and The Cisco Kid). In more recent decades, while respected for its open-pit fire BBQ, the restaurant and venue has also become a celebrated live music hotspot where the likes of Sir Paul McCartney, Queens of the Stone Age and Arctic Monkeys have all played (often spontaneously choosing the venue to test out a new set). So do stop by: while you might be going for the ribs, you may just find U2 serenading you.
The restaurant sits next to the original Pioneertown film set, taking you right into an 1880-themed Main Street. Quietly sitting behind this is the 19-room Pioneertown Motel (built as a waypost for movie stars filming locally at the time). A unique boutique hotel, it’s rich in character and an ideal place to disconnect from the outside world and soak up the starriest of skies at night. The motel feels exactly as a motel should; warm and welcoming with friendly staff and better yet, no televisions!
During the day you can hike around Joshua Tree or pop into La Copine(do book) for a cool desert roadside spot (menu favourites include Beets & Burrata and Socarrat) or have a mooch around the Noah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Art Museum, an exhibit whose beauty lies in its decades of decay.
Joshua Tree. Laura Symons & Damian HarrisNoah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Art Museum. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
En route to Palm Springs, you pass acres upon acres of wind farms but through the colossal turbines it’s hard not to miss the two giant dinosaurs of Cabazon. Something between a fast food amusement garden (they were, indeed, originally built by local restaurateur to attract more diners) and Jurassic Park on steroids (‘Dinny’ and ‘Mr Rex’ most famously featured in Pee-wee’s Big Adventure), these two monuments are an essential stop (albeit, just a 10-min one) while driving through.
Palm Springs. Laura Symons & Damian Harris
Pulling into Palm Springs, in soaring temperatures, feels somewhat like the designer town time has left standing: exquisite architecture nestled at the foot of the mountains with that unique desert modernist design. Better to visit in winter when the temperatures become more moderate but be sure to indulge in a dinner at Mister Parker’s (the gilded restaurant of the Parker Hotel) for exquisite cuisine and a flash of that personal service touch (your tabletop candle is made of beef butter which melts ready to be spread over your freshly made loaf).
Stay at Sparrows Lodge, a small and intimate spot where the accommodation’s surround a misted pool and loungers. The rooms are stylish and well-sized with vast metal dunk-tubs. It is also recognised for the menu in their Barn Kitchen, offering delights from home-baked banana bread for breakfast to 16oz Creekstone Ranch ribeye at diner. But do rise early and take yourself for a near-two-mile hike in Tahquitz Canyon. While the trail is steep and can be rocky, the waterfall that greets you at the pinnacle is entirely worth the effort. Before slipping out of town, make sure you stop at Mitchells vintage shop, which offers an expansive range of heritage pieces from Pucci to Ossie Clark. Mitchell services the shop himself so you are assured of the history and provenance (the store supplied rare fashion pieces to TV show Palm Royale most recently).
After a few days of desert sun, it’s likely time to head to the ocean spread of Laguna Beach. Pick your timing carefully: off-season the beaches are sweeping and empty, in high season you may have to search for your spot more carefully as tourists flock to the infamous OC coastline. In the early 1920s, it began to emerge as a noted artists’ colony and still boasts a bustling creative hub (including the Festival Of Arts and Pageant Of The Masters).
Laguna Beach. Laura Symons & Damian HarrisCasa Laguna. Jamie Kowal
About a mile from the milling centre lies Casa Laguna Hotel & Spa; a compact and quaint design-led spot. The bungalow is the most sought-after accommodation but all rooms feature the same decorative Spanish-colonial interiors (think palettes of royal blue and vivid bougainvillea). It sits only a short walk from two essential beaches but if you want to ‘stay in’, the perched pool which overlooks the ocean and the bay-facing outdoor spa are particular highlights (although the daily freshly made cookies laid out late afternoon take a comfortable bronze position).
Photographs by CHARLIE CLIFT Words by JANE CROWTHER
Siblings John David and Malcolm Washington tell Hollywood Authentic how their parents Denzel and Pauletta raised them surrounded by art and why their new film, The Piano Lesson, became a family affair.
Director Malcolm Washington insists that he and his older brother, actor John David, didn’t fight as children. In fact, the opposite was true growing up with acting parents and as a pair of brothers with two sisters, Katia and Olivia. ‘I just feel like we did so much as kids. Any time I needed anything, I feel like my family are the people that I would go to. If I was moving, or needed help to take apart and rebuild my furniture, I would call them.’ Which is why when he decided to make his feature debut directing and co-writing an adaptation of Pulitzer prize-winning playwright August Wilson’s The Piano Lesson, he called on the Washington clan. Father, Denzel, has long protected Wilson’s work as designated custodian of his output – a series of 10 plays known as the ‘Pittsburgh Cycle’, including recent movie adaptations Fences and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom – and has made it his mission is to see all the plays adapted for film with reverence. Washington Sr directed and starred in Fences on the big screen in 2016 and John David played The Piano Lesson’s Boy Willie (originated by Samuel L. Jackson in 1987 at the Yale Repertory Theatre) in a Broadway revival in 2022. The story of a brother and sister, Boy Willie and Berniece (Daniel Deadwyler), in 1936 Pittsburgh, The Piano Lesson explores systematic racism, the legacy of slavery, identity and generational trauma as the siblings argue over the fate of a piano once owned by their family’s slaver owner. Sharecropper Boy Willie wants to sell it to buy Mississippi land; Berniece wants it to remain in the family as a testament to their ancestors. It’s an intense, thought-provoking play that Malcolm has described as ‘sacred’. No pressure then…
‘The fact that it was high pressure made it even more reason to go to the people that you know,’ he smiles as the two brothers attend the London Film Festival. ‘And working with him,’ he points to John David sitting next to him, ‘I was such a fan of him that I wanted to do that anyway. He’s a great actor, you know?’ The brothers also had their dad onboard as exec producer (‘He’s an expert’), sister Katia as producer, plus sister Olivia (who has just finished an acclaimed run in the West End’s Slave Play) and mum Pauletta as cameos. Longtime family friend, Samuel L. Jackson, also joined the cast. To have that level of expertise in the material and trust in family was invaluable, he says. ‘It instils confidence in everybody. It’s like: we have the opportunity to make a film of great performances. Let’s live out that promise.’
The performances have been attracting awards attention as the film has played at festivals throughout the year and John David admits that getting a chance to interpret the role a second time after his Broadway stint was something of a gift. ‘That was the most intriguing part – the new lens that this story is going to be told through, which is Malcolm’s, to serve as a nexus between the OGs, the Wilsonians, and what the new generation of artists and storytellers have to say about unfortunately antiquated issues in the underbelly of America – which this story revolves around. But it’s also obviously the family dynamic and heirloom. What side are you on in the brother/sister argument? But all of those prospects and those opportunities to tell the story in a new way, to open up the play.’
The experience of digging into the themes of the play was enlightening and personal, Malcolm recalls. ‘It inspired a lot of conversation. When I met with Samuel L. Jackson for the first time to talk about doing the story, we talked very briefly about the story, and then it quickly turned into him showing me family photos of his grandparents, and where he’s from, and his people. We were always tied into that larger thing.’ And the idea of legacy is something that both brothers are aware of as children of feted actors, and part of a family of artists. ‘To me, I had this idea of like: this is what was passed down – it’s the ability to tell stories, and being able to do it professionally,’ John David nods. ‘The fact that we’re doing it together is something that is significant.’
Malcolm Washington
I definitely wouldn’t call working together an inevitability. But along the way, it became more and more important to tie all of our stories into it, so that we all had stakes in the game. We all had skin in the game
Making this a Washington family project wasn’t initially the intention, explains Malcolm, who co-wrote the screenplay with Virgil Williams. ‘This whole project is just a snowball of something that started really small, really intimate and really personal. And then along the way you collect these other moments, and it all comes into focus. I definitely wouldn’t call working together an inevitability. But along the way, it became more and more important to tie all of our stories into it, so that we all had stakes in the game. We all had skin in the game.’ A former student of the American Film Institute who graduated at the top of his class, he dug into his academic approach in prepping for the film – visiting the Pittsburgh neighbourhood, the historic Hill District, where Wilson lived and was inspired. Malcolm ultimately planted an Easter egg in the film of Bella’s Market, where Wilson grew up, and discovered the playwright’s close relationship with his mother. That bond is something he also recognises: ‘The more I learned about August, the more I saw myself in his story and in his work.’
Denzel and both of his sons have talked about the importance of Pauletta Washington at the heart of their family and The Piano Lesson is dedicated to her; ‘for Mama’ appears on the end title card, nodding both to her role as Mama Ola and her impact on the director. She only discovered his tribute when she saw the film for the first time with the family. ‘It was wonderful. She wept,’ Malcolm remembers. ‘My mum used to take me to the theatre, and we watched so many movies together. She took me to see The Tree of Life when it came out. It was a movie that affected both of us so deeply. I remember sitting in the theatre when it ended, and we were both holding hands, and just crying together. It was the first time I remember doing that – you know, crying and being so deeply affected by a movie like that. So when I showed her my film – we saw it in a theatre, and we cried together. I just immediately thought of that moment of like, ‘Wow, now I’ve made this thing that affected you in the way that we were both affected.’ It made me even more empowered, and fall in love with the art of filmmaking even more.’
Denzel is an equally artistic force in the family, though he hasn’t ever sat down and given John David acting advice. ‘I guess it’s like Mr Miyagi-style, you know what I mean?’ he laughs. ‘You wash the car, and paint the fence, and then you apply it to the work later. Like, years later. I think he might have been preparing me my whole life for something. I put God into everything – every project. I feel like every character I take on, there’s something I’m learning about myself as well. He’s so protective of the [August Wilson] works. Also, Samuel L. Jackson. So getting the co-sign, and getting the encouragement from them, emboldened me to be my better self, and to be my best self.’
John David Washington
Both my parents had a strong consciousness to them, and were constantly putting us into spaces that we got to engage in – in art, in Black entertainment, the legacy of Black artists, and the legacy of Black greatness outside of art as well
For the Tenet, BlacKkKlansman and The Creator lead, that acting truth is hard won, having fought against following in his dad’s footsteps by becoming a professional football player before injury made him reconsider the lure of telling stories. ‘I chose something else first. A lot like Boy Willie, I was conflicted. I had an internal warfare. I chose football, I chose pain, I chose broken ribs and hernias in the name of independence. I had this rebellious quest to be my own man. But, really, I was just working out a character, I think, because I wanted to do this my whole life. Inevitability – it’s a spectrum. But I am so thankful that I am doing it because it’s what I wanted to do the whole time. This project definitely helps me with this. I’m seeing the kind of actor and the kind of performer that I’m striving to be. And I needed this rite-of-passage text to do that.’
Malcolm’s artistic route wasn’t quite such warfare. ‘I think the conditions in which I grew up definitely inspired my path. I’m the youngest in my family. My siblings were always really into art and music and film. We just watched so many things growing up, and just got to engage in it. Both my parents had a strong consciousness to them, and were constantly putting us into spaces that we got to engage in – in art, in Black entertainment, the legacy of Black artists, and the legacy of Black greatness outside of art as well. Those things were always instilled in me, and I always had a strong feeling and confidence that if I set my mind to something, if I studied hard and worked hard, I could achieve whatever. As I got older, I looked in the mirror one day and I was like, ‘Oh, wait, I think I’m into telling stories’.’
For both brothers, making The Piano Lesson has been a way of proving something to themselves as well as their dad, who ‘there’s no question’ would not have let them take on this adaptation simply because they were his offspring. There are still seven more plays to be adapted, so the Washingtons may yet be brought artistically together again. That’s if Hollywood Authentic hasn’t instigated their first fight. When we ask who took the beautifully carved piano at the centre of the film home with them, Malcolm admits to on-set purloining. ‘We had an amazing team working on the piano. The panels from the piano actually are in my house right now. They’re in LA.’ John David looks at him surprised. ‘I didn’t even know! Didn’t get a choice!’ he exclaims. He shakes his head in mock outrage. ‘Wow…’
Photographs by CHARLIE CLIFT Words by JANE CROWTHER The Piano Lessonis streaming on Netflix now
Hollywood Authentic’s correspondent, costumier Arianne Phillips, has the tables turned as she looks back at her own illustrious career crafting clothing for films including A Single Man, Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, Joker: Folie à Deux and the upcoming Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown.
Arianne Phillips is one of the most prolific, talented and versatile costume designers working in the industry today. She has won acclaim and award nominations for everything from giant commercial blockbusters to influential art-house movies, iconic music videos to Madonna’s concert tours, and worked with an enviable array of directors and actors. Arianne is also a favourite of the fashion world: her costume designs for Tom Ford’s A Single Man, Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, and Madonna’s W.E. have inspired designers and led to her working with Prada and designing menswear collections alongside Matthew Vaughn for the retailer Mr Porter. She’s also responsible for the costumes of two of the most anticipated films of the moment: Joker: Folie à Deux by Todd Phillips and A Complete Unknown, James Mangold’s forthcoming Bob Dylan biopic starring Timothée Chalamet. So, it seemed the right time to put Hollywood Authentic’s costume correspondent under the spotlight for a change.
JL: When we worked together on a 2019 documentary that Lenny Kravitz and I executive produced about you – Arianne Phillips: Dressing the Part – we described you as the misfit rebel who became a powerful creative force in both the movie and fashion industries. How did that misfit rebel successfully succeed in two notoriously competitive industries?
AP: Well, let’s see, how did it all begin? It’s not a linear journey. My mom had me when she was 20 and my dad was 24, and my sister and I, we just went on this fabulous adventure with them. In California we were exposed to a lot of art, music, writing and poetry, and I think that was what really stayed with me. I was in an atmosphere of creativity and experimentation. I enjoy taking the path unknown. Because I’ve just worked on the Bob Dylan biopic, A Complete Unknown, I keep referring to his songs, and the lyrics ‘The times they are a-changin’’ resonate with me. I’ve always just kept taking risks.
JL: Did you study costume at college?
AP: I wanted to go to college to learn art. And then I quickly got distracted and moved to New York. I was obsessed with British street culture and fashion, and the magazines. I got really great advice from a very respected fashion photographer, Arthur Elgort, who I had the pleasure to meet during those early days. He said, ‘You know, I can’t do much for you. I’m established. Come up with your own way, find like-minded people and collaborate with your friends.’ So I really dug into that, and I met so many wonderful people in New York, as you do as a young person, and I think that was the thing that really propelled me into this kind of multi-discipline career. Until then, if you loved fashion you were either a costume designer for a film, or a stylist for musicians, or you were a fashion editor. Those things did not cross over. But I think I was the new kid who never really wanted to belong to one group, never felt quite comfortable in any of those worlds full-time. And then the connecting thread for me, ultimately, was storytelling through costume, through clothing…creating characters. And I was lucky enough to get to do that, quite early on, with so many great artists – Lenny and Madonna and Courtney Love.
A Single Man, 2009. The Weinstein Company/Alamy
JL: So it was always creativity, new challenges and inspiring collaborators that drove you forward at this stage?
AP: Yes. The financial aspect of it never really factored in. I knew that if I went down the commercial route – which is easy; I watched a lot of colleagues end up doing commercials for TV and stuff – then I would get addicted to that comfortable lifestyle. I mean, it’s worked out fine for me, but I always chose a project that would be unique. In the last film I worked on, I had 40 people in my department. The new film I’m about to start work on will have just me and two other people, with a budget of only $30,000 for costumes for the whole movie. The average budget for costumes on a big movie is a million plus. And last year I did an off-Broadway play where it was just me and one other person. This approach is crucial to how I try to keep my own self relevant to myself; to keep me a little bit hungry, to keep it real.
JL: I was talking to the actor Dan Levy recently and he was describing how intimidating the first days on set shooting can be when you suddenly have to start working closely with huge teams of people you’ve perhaps never met before. How do you cope with that… especially as you have to have quite an intimate relationship with some of those characters very quickly because you’re dressing them?
AP: It is crazy, at least with actors, because we’re the only department that’s like, ‘Nice to meet you, can you take your clothes off please?’ It is very intimate. But it’s really about building trust, listening to the people you’re working with. It was so hard during Covid when we were masked. And what I ended up doing when filming Don’t Worry Darling was requesting Zoom calls with the actors first so I could get to know them, and read them. Then by the time they came in to the room and we were all masked you already had an understanding.
JL: Do you still get nervous?
AP: I still get butterflies. I can’t sleep the first night before shooting. The night before I was due to work with Madonna for the first time, I was a wreck. I didn’t sleep at all. But at the same time I still get so excited with what I get to do. And still recognise how lucky I am being out there working with such creative people; being in Paris with Madonna and going out to dinner with Jean Paul Gaultier, receiving three Oscar nominations. I mean, there’s just so many ‘pinch me’ moments.
JL: Which was the first mainstream movie you got work on?
AP: My first big break was doing The Crow [Alex Proyas’ 1994 thriller] but I couldn’t embrace that as a success because it was a tragedy. It was Brandon Lee [who was accidentally killed on set] who had invited me to work on it. So the joy of it was completely demolished. Then I did a small film for HBO directed by Christopher Guest called Attack of the 50-Foot Woman and then I worked on Tank Girl. But I would say that The People vs. Larry Flynt was my first legitimate character-driven, non-genre film. I felt like I could earn my parents’ respect because I had seen Milos Forman films with them back in the day. So that was a seminal moment for me.
Kingsman: The Secret Service, 2014. 20th Century Studios/Alamy
JL: When we first met you were working on the Kingsman movies with Matthew Vaughan and I remember coming on set and I was gobsmacked at the number of lead actors you had to work with, extras you had to dress, the multitude of different costume trucks on the lot. The logistics you had to manage were extraordinary.
AP: I dare say Matthew Vaughan is unique in terms of logistics. I mean, he has a nimble quality in the way that he directs. So he directs these large-budget films, but with the attitude and the nimbleness of an independent filmmaker. So nothing’s too challenging, nothing’s not doable. Both of those first two Kingsman movies were really, really logistically challenging, and they took a toll on all of us who were making the films, because the thing about Matthew, and I think the reason why he’s such a brilliant filmmaker, is he takes so many risks and he does kind of the unthinkable.
JL: You not only had to create the costumes for the movie, but you also knew they were going to become the first of a legitimate menswear collection that would be sold in stores. And that Kingsman clothing brand still exists today. Is it easier creating costumes that will end up in a storage depot or ones that you know will live on in the real world?
AP: I was really excited about that challenge. It’s quite sad at the end of a movie when you put the costumes away in a box. I don’t keep the costumes, the film studio does. You put them in a box, they go into storage and you usually never see them again. There are a number of film studios that once you wrap a film, they try to recoup money and so sell off costumes. And it’s so sad. There’s also the horrible situation, which has happened to many of my colleagues, and to me a couple of times, where the film studio’s marketing department makes a separate deal with some mass fast-fashion brand and creates a version of the costumes that has nothing to do with you. And it looks like crap. So I thought Kingsman was like a litmus test for me. I kind of felt, not that it was altruistic, but that if I can make this happen, it could be a little bit of a benchmark for my colleagues.
JL: Are there no proper costume archives?
AP: Well, you know, in different ways. Madonna has a really impressive archive, and I’m sure people have seen the Céline Dion documentary in which she shows the camera crew around her archive. Madonna’s is even bigger. So you have artists who have personal archives. And then you have ones like those at the V&A or the Metropolitan Museum. They have fashion archives where they have certain film pieces that they feel are culturally relevant, but they’re not necessarily pure costume archives. You also have a lot of private collectors. And there’s the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Los Angeles. They’ve started a really beautiful costume archive. I actually have donated bits and bobs that I have been allowed to keep by producers on certain films.
A Complete Unknown, 2024. Searchlight Pictures/Alamy
JL: Well let’s jump to two new movies with extraordinary costumes but in very different ways. A Complete Unknown tells the story leading up to Bob Dylan’s first appearance with electric instruments at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965. It’s directed by James Mangold with whom you also worked on Walk the Line nearly 20 years ago. Is it easier or harder creating costumes for a real character who is known and instantly recognisable or a fictional one?
AP: Well, being a massive Bob Dylan fan – he is part of the soundtrack of my childhood – I just felt what was needed in my bones. I started reading biographies about him and those who were in his circle, and I learned a lot. Our film is very specific; set over a period of four years at the beginning of the 1960s, it’s about the making of Bob Dylan, the poet, the icon, the rock star that we know today. It’s like his origin story. Personal research is more challenging. It’s like being a detective. The best thing for me as a designer is what I call the character arc. In this film it’s very succinct. The changes he went through from 1961 to ’63 to ’65, they’re very definitive.
The hardest thing to get right for period films is denim because it changes so much and often doesn’t exist in that form anymore. Bob wore denim throughout his life and to this day. It was clear from early research he wore predominantly Levi’s. Luckily, I have worked with Levi’s previously and know the wonderful people that work there . That was the first call I made a couple years ago when I started researching for the film. I reached out to them asking if they could help me identify what Bob was wearing, denim-wise. So together with the help of the team in the archive and design dept. at Levi’s I was able to create Bob’s denim story. First you see him early on in “worker” style “carpenter” jeans like Woody Guthrie wore, and then in 1962/63 he starts wearing the more recognizable Levi’s. His girlfriend at the time, Suze Rotolo, who’s on the cover of the album The Free Wheelin’ Bob Dylan, make a denim insert for his jeans so that they would fit around his boots because he always wore boots. So, in 1963, Bob Dylan wore the first flares. And then he ended up wearing very skinny jeans in 1965, which Levi’s recreated for us. Bob’s denim jeans and boots visually inform and express his style evolution in ‘becoming’ the Bob Dylan we know today.
Walk the Line, 2005. 20th Century Fox/Alamy
JL: When you’re in the process, do you know that you’ve truly caught the character in the hair, make-up, and costume?
AP: Well, I can’t speak for Timmy [Chalamet, playing Dylan]. But I can say two moments when we first thought it was there. I did many fittings with Timmy – he has almost 70 changes in the film – but I would say the first day he brought a guitar to the fitting was really helpful to see how he would stand with the instrument. And when I put sunglasses on him in a fitting, that was very exciting. And then when we got closer to shooting and Jamie Leigh McIntosh, who’s the hair designer, was working on the wig – he wasn’t always wearing a wig; he also used his own hair – but that was a moment.
Timmy is remarkable. I mean he had to learn the lyrics for 40 or 50 songs for our film. So when he would come to the fittings he was very comfortable. You know, he would sing and play the guitar. And that really helped me a lot. And we played the music and we kind of went into this sacred space. Fittings are when the character comes alive.
JL: You created the costumes for Joker: Folie à Deux, which reunites you with Joaquin Phoenix who you worked with on Walk the Line. How do you bring alive such visually compelling characters as Joker and Harley Quinn?
AP: I was the new kid on the block with that movie. The first Todd Phillips’ Joker was designed by the brilliant Mark Bridges, a friend of mine. So I had the great good fortune to build on what he had created. On the first day when I was working with Joaquin he came in and said, ‘Well, I guess we only work on movies with music in them.’ It’s not a musical, but there are a lot of songs. Music is intrinsic to the way this story moves. It was lovely to be reunited with him in such a different role. I admire him so much and I love him as a person. Just being around Joaquin, it’s like you want some of that to rub off on you. He’s brilliant. He’s very generous and kind. He would hate that I’m saying this. He’s just very respectful, and he’s committed.
JL: And, of course, you also worked with Lady Gaga. Is it easier or harder working with someone who has a strong sense of style, clothes and costume drama herself?
AP: I have to say that working with Stefani – it’s hard for me to call her Lady Gaga because it sounds weird – will be one of my career highlights. She’s so generous, so committed, so willing… and so much fun. And she was a new kid on the block, too, for this movie and so we bonded over that. We did multiple fittings and the journey to finding her character in the costumes was just so rewarding. It helped that she is so used to developing characters on stage, that she’s so smart, and she has such a great level of references that we were able to riff on a higher level than with most people. She was 100 per cent committed. I mean, Lady Gaga was left at the door. This was all about Stefani, the actress. She was everything that I could hope for when I walk into a fitting room with an actor. She was willing to try, and open to, everything. And also had great ideas of her own.
JL: Your final question is a tough one. If you were stranded on a desert island with only one of the films you’ve worked on, which would it be?
AP: Wow. That’s impossible. It depends on what my mood is at the time. But W.E. [the 2011 film about Wallis Simpson and the Duke of Windsor directed by Madonna, for which Arianne was nominated for an Academy Award]. I’m very proud of that movie. Working with Madonna as a director is my favourite way to work with her because she’s just such a great partner and just so engaging. Otherwise probably A Complete Unknown and A Single Man are the follow-ups – A Single Man is a beautiful, beautiful film that I think is also an important one. And also, I hope, a film I’ve yet to make.
Christopher Reeve’s children (from his relationships with Gae Exton and Dana Morosini) open the family scrapbook and video archives to search through their memories of their father that are so entwined with those of an international consciousness. The youngest, Will (now a US broadcaster) is bittersweetly cognizant to his own memory conformity as he was only two when his actor dad, the world’s Superman, fell from a horse in 1995 and was paralysed from the neck down. It was an event that became a cultural one as rolling news documented whether a seemingly invincible man would survive a fall that had he landed one inch differently might have been merely an embarrassing flub. Matthew and Alexandra, teens at the time, recall the trauma of that moment more acutely, but as Reeve’s initial crisis turned into a paraplegic way of life that lasted nine years after the accident, the blended family admit that a father who was loved but fiercely adventurous and often away for work, came more sharply into focus as he was tethered to his home.
In a time-hopping biopic loaded with home videos, photos and personal accounts (from Glenn Close and Whoopi Goldberg to Jeff Daniels and John Kerry), directors Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui unpick the facets of Reeve that made him the perfect Man Of Steel, but also gave him a steely determination when faced with unimaginable odds. It charts the boy who could never impress his father, the Juilliard student who formed a lifelong friendship with his college roommate, Robin Williams, the actor who aced his Superman audition despite a sweaty leotard, strove for artistic relevance outside of DC adaps and became a shining advocate for research and rights for spinal injury sufferers. Unlike Kal-El himself though, Reeve is also presented as entirely human – sometimes too competitive a Dad on the ski slopes, a goofball, a man who walked out on his partner, a self-confessed player for a time and capable of self pity.
Though Reeve was undoubtedly impressive in how he dealt with his difficulties, the heroics of this account are reserved for Reeve’s wife, Dana, whose insistence that he remained the man she loved despite his injury, and care in ensuring he continued to live as full a life as possible seemed to give him the power to outlive his prognosis, instigate change and even begin to regain tiny movement in his fingers. The secret poem found by her children is one of the most moving moments of the film as we realise the sorrow, rage and grief she carried underneath the indomitable spirit. And her story is one that seems particularly cruel in a telling that takes in other deaths, not just Reeve’s. Interweaving homespun footage with a bombastic score and superhero imagery (Reeve as a titanic statue, cracked and suspended in space, kryptonite weeping from the fissures), directors Bonhôte and Ettedgui also make clever use of Reeve’s film appearances in Rear Window and archive footage to illustrate his voiceover taken from recordings he made in preparation for writing an autobiography. The result is a film about strength in adversity that provokes tears as well as a life-affirming sense of gratitude. Parents and children will be squeezed all the more tightly after watching.
Words by JANE CROWTHER Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is in cinemas now
You know the film in which the charming, rich man pays a sex worker to spend the week with him and they fall in love? Well, Anora isn’t Pretty Woman. If you’ve seen any of writer/director Sean Baker’s previous movies – the best known being Tangerine (2015), The Florida Project (2017) and Red Rocket (2021) – you’ll know not to expect anything quite so conventional. Like those earlier works, Anora is another rounded, grounded look at a marginalised community in the US, but its scale and sweep marks it out as Baker’s boldest gambit yet, and amplifies its crossover appeal. Buoyed by winning the Palme d’Or (the highest accolade at the Cannes Film Festival) this summer, it looks set to be Baker’s first film to garner mainstream awards appreciation.
That’s not to say that Anora falls into the category of Oscar bait. It’s as provocative as any of Baker’s previous features, with its stall set out from a tone-setting opening shot that slowly pans across a line-up of performances at the Manhattan strip club where Anora – call her Ani – makes her living. In a 180-twist on the Cinderella story, we follow Ani (Mikey Madison) as she meets a young, ultra-wealthy Russian Ivan or ‘Vanya’ (Mark Eydelshteyn), at her club. Private dances lead to paid-for sex which leads to a week’s company for $15,000 fee.
It’s a film of two halves, though your pulse will pound in both. Upfront, it’s the high-energy sex scenes and euphoric abandon that provide the momentum. Baker’s always been a superb, detail-focused world-builder, and here he neatly contrasts the superficial chintzy surfaces of Ani’s club and her working-class homelife in Brighton Beach with the jaw-dropping extravagance of Vanya’s NY abode and his hedonistic profligacy: there’s no illicit thrill he won’t throw money at, for the amusement of himself, Ani and his entourage of hanger-on pals. Sex, drugs and trips to Vegas are all on the cards, and it’s in Sin City where a chapel for Ani and Vanya awaits… For him, it’s ostensibly an easy way to extend his stay in the US, while you get the sense she’s happy to keep the party going. Despite the inherent frivolity of the union, it’s impossible to disregard their genuine chemistry.
But, in the second half of the reverse fairytale, the glass slipper smashes and Ani must walk through the shards. When Vanya’s oligarch parents get wind of his nuptials, they send right-hand man Toros (Karren Karagulian) and a couple of heavies (Yura Borisov and Vache Tovmasyan) to enforce an annulment. When Vanya splits, Ani and her three captors have a long night ahead of them trying to find the runaway groom. For all the escalating tension – there’s a ticking-clock element sparked by the impending arrival of Vanya’s parents – it’s impressive how funny Baker keeps it throughout. Every character, no matter their circumstances, has curiously relatable problems or glimmers of unexpected humanity, to a Tolstoyesque degree.
It’s fitting that the two main characters go by dual names, as a literal representation of the contradictory facets that everyone embodies. Madison is very likely to find herself in the awards conversation after this breakout turn. Until now she’s been best known to film audiences for eye-catching supporting roles in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019) and Scream (2022), but Anora is the definition of a star-making performance. Not only does she nail the physicality the character requires to be fully believable, and the specificity of her Brooklyn accent, but also gets Ani’s confidence and fluency in power dynamics, and fully embodies the joy, fear, despair and frustration that occur across the film’s roller-coaster trajectory, and she retains the capacity to knock the wind out of you when you least expect it.
Despite weighty themes of extreme socioeconomic disparity, transactional relationships, sex work and more, Baker’s film is never a slog, and remains propulsive and unexpectedly funny over it’s 139-min runtime. If Anora does end up being Baker’s ticket to awards glory, he’s won a seat at that table on his own terms.
DISPATCH: RUMOURS Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS
Surreal political satire Rumours premiered at the Cannes Film Festival before travelling to TIFF and various festivals before landing in the UK’s capital this month at the BFI London Film Festival for a party hosted at Lasdun by Universal Pictures. Written and co-directed by Guy Maddin, Evan Johnson and Galen Johnson, it follows the seven leaders of the world’s wealthiest democracies at the annual G7 summit, where they attempt to draft a provisional statement regarding a global crisis. But as night falls and their staff disappear the leaders discover their own fallibility and lack of agency – unless it’s a quick romp in the woods. The cast is as international as the characters: Cate Blanchett plays the German Chancellor, Charles Dance is POTUS (with an English accent, because – why not?), Nikki Amuka-Bird essays the UK PM and Alicia Vikander is the President of the European Commission who finds something mindbending in the mist…
Blanchett, Dance, Amula-Bird and their directors celebrated the UK bow of the film at a party attended by friends and colleagues. Greg Williams captured the fun…
You’re never too far away from a Stephen King adaptation. The prolific horror maestro is the most-adapted living author, and even Salem’s Lot has been made for the screen twice before (as TV miniseries in 1979 and 2004). It’s a relief then, that writer-director Gary Dauberman makes slick work of King’s doorstopper tome in this latest take on the vampire story.
For anyone unfamiliar with previous incarnations, Salem’s Lot concerns author Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman), who returns to his childhood hometown of Jerusalem’s Lot, Maine. Only, just before his return, an altogether more sinister resident has moved into the creepy house that overlooks this otherwise charming small town where magic hour seems to last all afternoon and the cops are rarely busy. But before Ben can rediscover his writing mojo and develop a romance with local realtor Susan Norton (Makenzie Leigh), kids start going missing, patients with punctures to the neck are being treated at the hospital, and no one is quite ready to say the v-word out loud. Soon, several unlikely heroes are going to have to sharpen wooden stakes and assemble makeshift crucifixes as the unforgiving body count stacks up.
Salem’s Lot is classic King in several key ways, from the Maine setting to the writer protagonist and the snowballing sense of dread. The ’70s era is nicely realised via the production design, which has enough restraint to avoid parody. More than anything, the period setting spares the film from smartphones and the internet, creating an insular claustrophobia in the outwardly picturesque town of the title. While there’s the occasional sense of a bigger story being abridged for a cinema-friendly running time, credit goes to the cast for building a believable sense of community, and efficiently fleshing out past histories. Pullman (Top Gun: Maverick) is a likeable everyman with a troubled past, and there’s some genuine chemistry and sweet-natured banter between Ben and Leigh’s yearning-to-escape Susan. Plus, character actors like Alfre Woodard (as a no-nonsense doctor) and Bill Camp (as the teacher slotting the puzzle pieces together) add heft to archetypal roles. The child performances were always going to be key here, too, and Dauberman elicits good work from the younger cast members, putting an updated spin on the tap-at-the-window scene that was so chillingly memorable in the 1979 version.
Given that its influences stretch as far back as Dracula and Nosferatu – a mysteriously sheltered bloodsucker relocates to spread his malign influence, with the help of a converted servant – Salem’s Lot doesn’t have anything particularly new to add to the vampire canon. But Dauberman, who has previous King form as the writer of It (2017) and It: Chapter Two, brings a surprising sense of humour to proceedings. Not only is there plenty of knowingly witty dialogue, but the slick camerawork amplifies the fun of the set pieces. Whether it’s clever pans to induce jolts (or hide the goriest moments from view), inventive use of shadow as marauding vamps attempt to stay out of the sunlight, or just wickedly choreographed kills, it all adds to the sense that Dauberman knows what his audience wants, and is having a blast delivering it. By not taking itself too seriously, Salem’s Lot gives viewers permission to lean back and indulge in a bit of old-fashioned Halloween fun best enjoyed with a crowd.
Words by MATT MAYTUM Salem’s Lotis in UK cinemas now and on Max in the US
DISPATCH: GEORGE CLOONEY & BRAD PITT WOLFS Words by JANE CROWTHER Photographs by GREG WILLIAMS
George Clooney and Brad Pitt have been working together since they first made Ocean’s Eleven in 2001 – sharing credits in the 23 years since on Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind, Ocean’s Twelve and Thirteen and Burn After Reading. And the off-screen friends were looking for another opportunity to re-team when they were pitched Jon Watts’ original script, Wolfs. The story of two ‘lone wolf’ fixers who are assigned to the same clean-up job when a DA’s dalliance with a young man ends in accidental death, the comedy-actioner premiered at the Venice Film Festival to a standing ovation. Greg Williams traveled with the duo by boat as they attended a press conference and the premiere on Venice’s Lido.
‘We kind of figured there’s gotta be a good reason to get back in a film together, something we feel like we could build upon what we’ve done before,’ Pitt told journalists when he and Clooney discussed the project without their director who had caught Covid on the journey to the floating city. ‘But also, I gotta say, as I get older, working with the people that I just really enjoy spending time with has really become important to me.’
Pitt recalled that both he and Clooney immediately liked the first draft that Watts wrote and pitched to them, and was pleased that the verve of it was retained throughout production to filming in New York. ‘It’s never happened where someone presents you with an idea and you get a first draft of the script and that’s what you end up shooting.’
As grouchy hitmen, Clooney and Pitt banter and squabble throughout a long night where they try to unravel a conspiracy – and their teasing affection was on display when they sat down for their press conference and, later, boogied to Sade’s ‘Smooth Operator’ (a key track in the film) as the credits rolled in the Sala Grande. ‘There’s nothing good about it… It’s all a disaster,’ Clooney joked when asked about working with his 60-year-old friend. ‘He’s 74 and he’s lucky at this age to be still working!’
Wolfs is in select cinemas and available to stream on Apple TV+ now Read our review of Wolfshere
‘Britain is an island off Europe, Orkney is an island off Britain, Westray is an island off Orkney, Papay is an island off Westray…’ says Rona of the remote place she returns to in pursuit of rehabilitation in Nora Fingscheidt’s gorgeous, wild and meditative adaptation of Amy Liptrot’s 2016 addiction memoir. The Orkney-bred daughter of English parents (Stephen Dillane and Saskia Reeves), Rona has escaped the far-flung rock of her birth to Hackney for a biology degree and bacchanalian partying – which has tipped from hedonism to fiending. Booze has loosened her and allowed for city adventures and a romance with a doe-eyed boyfriend Paapa Essiedu, but it has also tightened its grip around her, making her a mean drunk as well as the victim of blackouts and violence at the hands of strangers. In Fingscheidt’s time-hopping poem to the forces of nature, the determination of survivors and the beauty of myth, Saoirse Ronan delivers a career-best performance that is unvarnished, brutal and, ultimately, beautiful and life-affirming.
Orkney and tiny island, Papay, are showcased to their full craggy, unforgiving majesty as Rona returns home from London, hoping that escape from the trigger will help her recovery. In flashbacks we unpick the moments that have led to this reckoning on the windswept ‘outrun’ of her father’s sheep farm. The slurred self-harm, the endangerment, the abuse of friends’ goodwill, the shame of nipping at hidden bottles of vodka in the bathroom with the tap on. Rona also narrates key memories and Orkney myths of monsters that have formed her. As she helps birth lambs, struggles to befriend other young people and spits vitriol at her religious mum, she also recalls the mental health episodes of her father and the estrangement from the boy she loved. Like the endangered Corncrake birds she attempts to track for the RSPB, her sobriety is an elusive, fragile thing and her path to the discovery of both turns out to be surprising.
Adapted by Fingscheidt and Liptrot, The Outrun is a bewitching celebration of healing with different timelines deftly denoted by Ronan’s dyed hair and bolstered by moments of stop-motion, still photography and nature footage (curious seals, boiling seas, raging storms). When lensing Rona’s drunken walks home, Fingscheidt employs woozy, disorientating focus to put us right inside the bottle with her, while at other times the camera is a serene watcher as Rona takes a wild swim in a briny bay. Equally multi-discipline is Ronan, toggling from utterly convincing messy drunk to shattered alcoholic, lost recoverer to flame-haired ‘selkie’ at one with the landscape. Her interior life is so easily read, whether it’s the way she lies to her professor, the apology she weepingly offers her mum or the way a tear of wonder slides from her eye as she watches the twinkle of the international space station pass across the Scottish heavens. The experience of watching her within this maelstrom of a movie is a visceral one, and should power her into the awards ring. A kind and essential movie for anyone trying to find the contours of their true self in a time of difficulty.
Words by JANE CROWTHER The Outrun is in cinemas now
