Interview
Magazine - November
1999
interview >
Gus Van Sant
source > Harmony
Special K
link > interviewmagazine.com
Harmony Korine, now twenty - five, had an auspicious start to his
movie career as the writer of Larry Clark's Kids; at
eighteen, he was the youngest credited screenwriter ever. He went
on to write and direct Gummo, his first feature, which won
major prizes at the Venice and Rotterdam Film Festivals, defying
many American critics who trashed the film because of its audacity
and presumption.
Korine's latest film, julien
donkey - boy, depicts the life of a paranoid schizophrenic [played
by Ewen Bremner] with his father [played by Korine's friend, the
German director Werner Herzog], pregnant sister [Chloë Sevigny],
brother [Evan Neumann], and grandmother [Joyce Korine, the
director's own grandmother]. The film was shot according to the
rules laid down by the Danish filmmaking collective known as Dogme
95, whose "Vow Of Chastity" insists on its members
shooting on location in natural light, without music, wardrobe, or
other artificial stylistic additives. The current rumour is that
the Dogme believe that this first American movie to be made
according to their manifesto is the most successful yet.
Harmony Korine: Hey.
Gus Van Sant: Where are you? In New York?
Yeah. I'm in New York. With my pocket pussy.
What's that?
Oh, it's just this plug - in vagina. I just bought it on Eighth
Street. I was thinking about plugging it in during the interview.
[Electronic buzzing noise starts].
What's going on?
Um, nothing. Oh, I read a whole book of these stories by hippie
kids.
Oh really?
Yeah. One of them is about, you know, free love at nine.
[Laughs]. What? Was this girl having sex at age nine?
Yeah, and it pretty much destroyed her life.
I grew up on a commune and it wasn't like that at all. It was more
Trotskyist, and everyone was out in the fields of East Tennessee
making Marxist propaganda and firebombing empty churches.
Really?
Yeah, but at the same time they'd watch a lot of Bowery Boy movies
and stuff like that. It was strange. They wanted to kind of invent
their own culture. But I wouldn't say it was really hippie
culture.
Oh, it was just politically adverse?
Yeah, yeah, exactly.
I remember when I first met you and I was with Larry [Clark] and I
think we had lunch with Scott, who was stoned and . . .
[Laughs].
Do you remember that?
Yes, of course.
And you and I rode uptown. Scott split, of course, to go score
some drugs. Right. I remember that he kept nodding off. [Laughs].
And I didn't know why. I had just moved there from Tennessee. I
thought he was some kind of narcoleptic.
He was just sleepie.
Yeah.
And then you and I caught a cab uptown and you said that I should
listen to The Shaggs.
Oh, you remember that?
Yeah, because that was the first time I had ever heard of The
Shaggs and you explained them to me.
Yeah, their dad gave them a Herman's Hermits album, a drum, a bass,
and a guitar, and locked them in the basement and only fed them
peanut - butter - and - jelly sandwiches for three weeks straight
and he told them they couldn't come out until they were ready to
become rock stars.
[Laughs]. You said you'd give me their album and that it
would probably change my life. And then you got out of the car. I
didn't ever get the album and I also couldn't find it in the
record store.
[Laughs].
And I kept thinking, Well, gee, I wonder if my life would've been
changed.
[Laughs].
You met Larry in Washington Square Park when you were eighteen?
Right, right. He was taking pictures of me.
And you told him that you could write a screenplay for him really
quick? Which turned into Kids.
We started talking. Kids wasn't a movie that I had thought
about writing or that I was particularly interested in, or a movie
that I would have ever written on my own, you know. I still don't
consider it to be my movie. I think of it much more as Larry's
film, even though I wrote the thing and it was all about kids that
I knew at that period of time. It was like a job.
Yeah, exactly. I mean, just the notion of getting a movie made
when you're eighteen. It didn't even seem possible.
I've only seen three or four scenes [of julien donkey - boy]
but I was really impressed with the whole makeup of it, what was
going on in the scenes and the way they were shot. Every scene had
a different philosophy behind it, which was kind of amazing, and
then some of the scenes were shot with lots of cameras, which was
extremely amazing.
Yeah. On Gummo, I experimented a lot with video and it
wasn't even so much the aesthetic of video that excited me; it was
more the freedom that I felt it allowed. People talk about there
being a video revolution. I think they are more concerned with the
financial element of it, which to me is secondary. I couldn't care
less about how much a movie costs. I think a movie should be great
if it's made for a hundred million or if it's made for one dollar.
It makes no difference. But what was more exciting about [using]
video [on Gummo] was the intimacy that it allowed. I didn't
need these huge lighting crews and I was also excited about
holding the camera. I felt like the best scenes in Gummo
were the scenes where no one was around, sometimes where I wasn't
even around. It was just the cameraman and the actor. We'd figure
out a lighting scenario and allow for the sound person to be out
of the room. I would just go in between takes and give the actors
direction, tell them what to improvise, and then run out of the
room. I wanted julien donkey - boy to be in that style, and
I wanted to have angles coming from every direction. I wanted it
to be almost mathmatical. I wanted to use thirty cameras at once
and have people sitting in trees and people behind windows.
That's like the guy at the security desk of a large building with
all those surveillance monitors.
It's like I wanted julien donkey - boy to put an end to
this notion of realism in cinema because I don't think there is
such a thing as realism or one hundred percent truth, in cinema or
in documentary. Ultimately, film is a lie and lies are good if you
are a good liar. This is something that Werner [Herzog] and I
talked about a lot - that basically there is something much
greater than truth in cinema. There's a poetic truth that kind of
hovers above a film, something that's almost Godly. To me, the
great works of art exist on a level where you can't see the
director or the artist coming up with the ideas. Somehow, it kind
of takes on Biblical proportions - it seems to have always existed.
When I watch a movie like The Night Of The Hunter [1955] or
even The Passion Of Joan Of Arc [1928], I can't see the
mechanisms; I can't see the director thinking. It feels like the
movie just fell from the sky. I wanted to make a movie that has
that kind of of feel to it. And I wanted to take it to the next
level, so I used multiple cameras and started playing around with
this idea of wiring the actors with spy cameras.
And in the end, you had something like a hundred and twenty hours
of footage?
Yeah. Something like that. A hundred and fifty hours or so.
That's a lot of footage. So now you're just about to make your
print.
Yeah. We're doing this insane transfer to make it seem archival.
It looks like moving paintings, where the colours are bursting and
melting into eachother. It's like when you take a photograph and
blow it up ontoa colour Xerox. The photograph is no longer a
photograph; it's like a painting because it's ink on paper so you
don't really see the depth of field. It becomes much more
integrated because everything is kind of condensed and flattened.
Wow, that's great.
Yeah, it's exciting because the movie itself is as close to a kind
of realism as you can get in film.
It's like a live event, especially scenes where there are lots of
people. It's got a sort of Wide World Of Sports quality.
[Laughs]. Right. Exactly.
Watching julien, I realized that except for sitcoms like The
Lucy Show where they're using three cameras, filmmakers have
always intercut takes that weren't meant to be. That's the way
films have generally always been made. But if you're intercutting
live angles, it's more akin to a live event.
It tends to take the viewer inside. I was influenced a lot by
watching the 1992 Olympics.
So let me ask you about those two guys Lars [von Trier] and Thomas
[Vinterberg], [two of the founders of Dogme 95]. When did you meet
them?
It was a month before shooting julien donkey - boy. I had
seen [Vinterberg's] The Celebration at the New York Film
Festival because someone had told me that I'd like it. I was
really down on films at the time and thinking that basically
everyone has given up or, you know, that no one's trying to push
it, and then I saw The Celebration and really liked it. I
had seen [von Trier's] The Idiots before that, and I liked
that, too. And I got a telephone call from Thomas about a week
later, and he said "I heard you were going to make a new film
and I spoke to Lars von Trier and we were wondering if you would
be interested in starting the American New Wave and joining the
Dogme 95 brotherhood." And I liked that.
Wasn't there some sort of Masonic ritual you had to attend?
I'm forbidden to . . . I can get some piece of my body chopped off
for divulging that.
Like a Nordic ritual?
Yeah, it's like a Nordic, Masonic, cinematic ritual [laughs].
It kind of seemed like a joke. But in talking to them, what
ultimately made me end up joining the Dogme was that there wasn't
really an irony about it. I mean the whole thing is very serious.
They had written this semi - Calvinist "Vow Of Chastity"
for filmmakers and it was a very strict ritual. I like things like
militant rescue actions, which is basically the purpose of this.
It's a militant action rescuing people from dumbed - down cinema.
The mediocrity of film. Yeah. And also in reaction to the failure
of the '60s [French] New Wave and how in the end that was just
bourgeois romanticism.
Oh, but that's Werner [Herzog] talking now.
Are they separate from Werner's ideas?
I think that there's a definite correlation to what Werner has
been doing, except that he would argue that all his documentaries
are live. They say in the manifesto that by following these rules
to a T, by demanding of yourself the following of the "Vow Of
Chastity," some kind of supreme truth will be forced out of
the characters and out of the actors. The director denounces
himself as an artist and says, "I am no longer trying to
impose an artistic structure on the actors."
Right, like the actor doesn't have to hit marks. They do what they
want and you're just covering them as opposed to, you know . . .
Exactly. All of these rules basically allow them to dig deeper and
to find something that they couldn't before. Even though The
Idiots and The Celebration were scripted, there was
improvising done along the way. On julien donkey - boy
there were no technical demands [I had to adopt to] to really
conform to the "Vow Of Chastity."
You were already planning similar things?
Yeah, I was planning to shoot it in a very similar way, except,
again, I was trying to go much further by using thirty cameras, by
not having a script at all, by not having any dialogue at all, by
basically just working off of ideas and images. The "Vow Of
Chastity" did make the actual shooting of the film much more
tense, because you can't rely on any kind of post - production
tricks; you can't rely on the way that movies are generally made
now. But I couldn't imagine ever having an experience that's more
free. I had absolutely no one looking over my shoulder. No one
telling me what to do. It's as pure a vision in film as you could
possibly have.
Cool.
[Electric buzzing stops]. Are there any more questions?
No.
[Laughs]. That's good.
Originally Published In Interview,
Brant Publications, Inc., November 1999.
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