Childless director: Charlie LeviChildless (click title for tickets) will be screening in the The State of Independents strand on Thursday 19 February (20.45 at GFT) (where he will be joining us to introduce his film and answer questions after the screening) and on Friday 20 February (12.30 at GFT). Although this marks his feature debut, Charlie Levi (writer/director) has been working creatively and professionally in film and multimedia since his college days at SUNY Binghamton. As a student, he studied film with avant garde cinema pioneer Ken Jacobs and renowned director Nicholas Ray, serving as an editor on Ray’s fabled last film
You Can’t Go Home Again. In 1978 he co-founded Charlex, a video production and post-production company specializing in graphics and special effects where he served as an editor, producer, director and general manager supplying high-end advertising, television and music videos, and winning dozens of Monitor Awards and several Emmys. Charlex is best known for creating the award-winning music video for the Cars’ “You Might Think I’m Crazy” and an Emmy-winning show opening for
Saturday Night Live.
In 1990, Levi sold his half of the company in order to pursue filmmaking. He also leads a creative writing workshop. His first novel,
Loco Parentis, is represented by William Morris.
Levi’s focus on film-making since 1994 has resulted in nine scripts, including
Tinian, a screenplay co-written with Graham Leader, and another script for director Andrew Douglas (
The Amityville Horror,
Seaching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus). We spoke to Charlie about his film own film and the films he loves.
How did you get into filmmaking?I studied film in college, where I was lucky enough to learn from two amazing filmmakers, Ken Jacobs and Nicholas Ray. In many ways they represented opposite ends of the filmmaking spectrum and the possibilities of an artistic life versus one in the more commercial realm of Hollywood. That polarity has remained with me, both as a dilemma and an opportunity. But in any case those two men have been important in shaping my sensibilities.
After college I started a production company in New York which became successful in what was then the new field of video graphics and special effects. We did mainly advertising work, though we made our name from some music videos and TV show openings that got a lot of attention at the time.
Eventually I got the nerve to walk away from that success and pursue writing and directing on my own terms. Time will tell how wise this was, but I have no regrets. I wrote at first because I felt the need to generate my own projects. Then I wrote because you can always write, no matter what, which isn’t quite the case in regard to directing. Now I write because I’ve become a writer, at least in my own mind, and it’s how I express myself.
What was the genesis of the project?This film started in an odd way. I had done a very short film for the web that was essentially a monologue. It was fun, it was inexpensive, and it was well received. So it made me think about the possibilities of people talking directly to camera. And it made me think I could do it for very little money (which turned out to be somewhat incorrect, but not completely).
At the time I was interested in the experiences that a lot of people my age where going through. They were starting to pass their prime and realizing that things weren’t quite as ‘prime’ as they may have hoped. I don’t mean in an economic way, really, but more in terms of the vision they had once had of themselves, the way they’d imagined their lives unfolding. And I was curious about the particular dimensions this had for women.
And then a strange thing happened. I hurt my knee and couldn’t go to my yoga classes every morning. So for a period of a few months I heeded someone’s suggestion to try writing first thing in the morning, even while still half-asleep in bed. And I begin writing all these monologues about a group of people, not knowing how they’d make any sense together or if they’d usable for anything.
My knee healed and I eventually re-read what I’d done and decided to work on it in a more organized and conscious way. I tried to provide some coherence, but still allow the viewer to have to piece together what was really happening. I thought it was a fun and interesting way to dispense information. I narrowed down the characters, chose a situation, got some feedback, rewrote a lot, and ended up with “Childless.”
What were your major influences?I always feel I have the same answers to this question as everybody else, but here goes. The filmmakers that have mattered most to me are Cassavetes, Rohmer, Fellini, Bunuel, Altman and Welles. But, that said, there are dozens and dozens of individual films by other directors that have been thrilling or inspiring. And there are filmmakers who’ve never made a particular film that changed my life but who are inspiring because of their constantly interesting attitude toward the process and the pure vitality of their work. Someone like Michael Winterbottom might fall into this category.
And because of my student days with Ken Jacobs, I’ve been influenced by his work and the work of Stan Brakhage.
I’ve also found myself motivated at times by films I disliked intensely – I walk out of a theater swearing I could do better, or I force myself to examine what provoked such a strong negative response, and this often leads to the beginning of something of my own.
And I like van Gogh and Bach and Gaudi and lots and lots of rock and roll.
The direct to camera monologues dictate a certain film language. Was there ever a temptation to deviate from this, and how was this technique decided upon?For me the technique always included not only having the actors speak to camera, but also shooting them in very long takes. I was interested to see how this would work in a movie. It’s a common theatrical conceit, but rare in films and I was curious to see how far I could push it. I also liked the fact that as the film moves on, it eventually works its way to a more traditional shooting style, as if we were trying to re-construct that broken fourth wall.
During the writing process I was unwavering in my enthusiasm for this approach.
Then, when I started showing the script around, I got a lot of suggestions. Some people thought it would make a great play (which was never the response I was looking for). Others thought I should include showing many of the scenes that the characters were talking about – in other words, “opening up” the play. As always when you get thoughtful opinions from people you respect, you’re tempted to agree with them and just admit that you’ve been a complete fool. Ultimately, I told myself that those people simply didn’t ‘get it.’
Luckily, my producer was one of the people who definitely “got it,” and he encouraged me to stick to my guns. They soon became his guns as well.
Once we got into production there was no way to do this in half measures. For instance, if I wanted to have actors talk into the lens, it made the idea of traditional coverage virtually useless. And I couldn’t shoot this two ways. So we committed, and at the time it all felt very daring and fun. Sometimes now it just feels like a lot of long takes of people talking to camera, but then again, I’ve seen the film many, many times and any novelty has long since worn off.
Basically, I’m very happy with the way it all worked out. I made the film I envisioned, for better or worse, and I’m quite pleased that I had enough support to get it all on screen.
How did you go about casting?Joe Mantegna had been involved in a reading I’d had of the script, so I knew him a bit. I was blown away by his reading and always wanted him in the film. Jordan Baker is a good friend and I was lucky to get her to play Edith.
Everybody else was recruited by our casting agent, Lindsay Chag, who was great. I certainly knew Barbara, Diane, and Jim’s work and just felt really lucky to be able to work with them. Natalie Dreyfuss was found through a regular old casting session, and I think “Childless” was her first film role. Lindsay had brought in an amazing group of young women and I was completely floored at that session. Most of them had done an amazing amount of preparation – much more than we’d asked of them – and had memorized long monologues. It really seemed that all the girls really understood the film in a more direct and uncomplicated way than a lot of older people did. Anyway, Natalie’s work just stood out, she had a very individual look and warmth and she’s a big part of the film.
A funeral has been used as a plot device in many a family drama, as has the death of a child. What makes this film different?Well, it’s certainly not the funeral that makes this film different. I had wanted to find an event that would put every character into a reflective mood and give them an occasion that they could anticipate in a way that could throw their life into question. To be honest, it didn’t have to be a funeral at first, except that I was perversely attracted to the way my characters’ inner thoughts would be so inappropriate to the solemn and respectful mood the situation called for.
Perhaps it should have been a wedding or some other event. I have to admit that I was shocked at how serious everything became once we brought a casket onto the set. Even worse, I was the only one who was shocked. I’m a bit embarrassed to tell you that I had always found – I still find – the film much funnier than most people do. Ah, well.
But I still very much like the fact that the dead child is probably the one person in the film the audience might feel is going to be okay. And that’s not really meant as irony.
What do you hope people will take from the film, and how have they responded so far?The film has gotten very strong reactions, both positive and negative, and remarkably few reactions in the middle. And this is pretty much what I had hoped for. My goal was really to make a film that people would see and then talk about later at dinner. I’d be delighted if many of those dinner conversations led to arguments and provocations and shocked reactions, etc. Just to get people thinking and talking.
It’s so amazing to hear someone tell you that “people would never behave like that,” and then have the next person tell you that “you’ve captured my family perfectly. It’s uncannily accurate.” So who knows? Lots of viewers find the cast of characters completely unsympathetic, and an equal amount find them heartbreakingly real. I’ve been told that the film is glum and depressing and I’ve been told that it’s witty and uplifting.
I think they’re all correct.
How important are film festivals for films such as this?I hope that festivals make a difference for
Childless. I certainly know they’ve been important for films like this (whatever that means) in the past. Of course, we are in a rapidly changing world now. It’s never been easier to make films so inexpensively, and I doubt if it’s ever been harder to find theatrical distribution. On the other hand, there are other ways to get your film seen supposedly. Oh, and did I mention the collapse of the world economy?
Whatever luck the film has, I know for sure that festivals are valuable for filmmakers. They offer an audience and a degree of respect that aren’t always that easy to find.
What excites you most about bringing the film to the Glasgow Film Festival?I’ve heard from a friend who was at last year’s festival about how wonderful it was, and I’ve talked to numerous people who’ve raved about what’s happened to Glasgow over the last ten or fifteen years; so based on gossip alone I’m very excited about the trip.
More seriously, I’m looking forward to the sort of audience I think the GFF will provide. Everyone says how great the interest in film is, and how people are interested in discussing what they’ve seen. So I’m hoping that’s all true and I’m totally willing to stick my neck out there and see if they want to cut it off.
I’ve also been treated extremely nicely so far by everyone involved with the festival, and I’m anticipating more of the same. Any opportunity to be someplace where film and filmmakers are taken seriously gets a high grade in my book.
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