These images are in no particular order and not meant to be exhaustive, but just things that catch the eye and stir the heart.
(PS. If there's an image of yours here, and you want me to take it down, just email me. Thanks!)
The inspiration today is maybe the above dress, or maybe just the idea of memory, and how powerful it is. I made the dress with Betsy McDonald in Providence, RI in 1993 for the short movie "Lucy Jane." "Lucy Jane" was a collaboration between Betsy and I, and the first movie I ever tried to make. I had NO IDEA how to make a movie-- but that didn't deter me. At that time, it didn't deter us that we didn't know how to make a movie, play guitar, etc. We made things with our friends, we had fun making them, and they weren't for sale. The dress was worn by my sister Sue... in the scene that Sue wears this dress, she bumps into her dead best friend, whose name is Lucy Jane. We never finished this movie (of course). For years I regretted that. But now I just see it as a natural part of things. Still though, whenever I am reminded of "Lucy Jane" or see an image from it I get a very particular kind of feeling. Not just nostalgic-- but hopeful. And today randomly coming into contact with this image on the web makes me feel hopeful in a way I need.
The great Argentinian filmmaker Lucrecia Martel came to the Pratt Film Department tonight. She is really brilliant, and humble, and it was REALLY inspiring to listen to her speak. Please see her films if you haven't!
Paintings by Grace Metzler
photo of Bill Murray by Bruce Glikas
Today Bill Murray's in the papers because last night he attended a performance of the "Groundhog Day" musical on Broadway and was weeping by the end. "The idea that we just have to try again," he explained. "We just have to try again. It's such a beautiful, powerful idea." Coincidentally, I've been looking at Lost in Translation again lately... particularly the cinematography. But there is no way not to be romanced by Bill Murray while watching that movie. The karaoke scene alone fills you with enough faith for a year.
photo by Lee Friedlander
photo by Sally Mann
photo by Vivian Maier
I've spent the past month in Rhode Island on a break from Pratt. Got a lot done on my new movie "Strawberry Shake." Thanks to the RISD Library for hosting my research-- the images above are some of the ones I found that are helping me start the visualizing process.
I'm not a huge Hitchcock fan- at least compared to some. Yes, there are amazing scenes in many of his movies, and yes some of them really get my heart racing. But besides the movies' obvious female trouble, I also love deep characters and imperfectness, so as much as I respect Hitchcock's place in film history and admire his talent, he's not one of my specific inspirations usually. But lately I've been rewatching some of his films and studying his use of the camera and it's really fun and eye-opening. Last night I watched Vertigo-- if you haven't seen it lately, just watch the opening film credit sequence alone-- AMAZING. Tonight I watched Psycho, and I'm thinking about Hitchcock's use of the point of view shot. At the beginning of the movie, he used it incredibly frequently with Marion, to show her POV. The interesting thing was what happened after Marion is murdered in the shower by "Norman's mother." There's a really long sequence where Norman finds Marion dead and is cleaning up the motel room, wrapping Marion's dead body in the shower curtain, dragging the body out to Marion's car, etc. And the POV shot is not used at all during this sequence, even though you think it might be-- for example, to get inside Norman's head as he looks at Marion's dead body and tries to clean up this terrible scene. But finally, at the very tail end of the scene, Hitchcock uses it once: he shows a close-up of Norman's face and then cuts to a POV shot of Marion's car as it sinks slowly into the swamp on the Bates Motel property. So Hitchcock doesn't choose to use the POV shot when Norman is feeling anxious and remorseful as he cleans up the room... he chooses to use it once Norman realizes he has successfully cleaned up the crime, the hint of a malevolent smile on his face as the car sinks into the dark bubbling swamp. Interesting, right?
I think the ending of 'Fat Girl' (director Catherine Breillat) is the biggest punch in the face ending I've ever seen in a movie in my life. There must be another movie I'm forgetting that is in this category of surprise endings... but the pure emotional power of this ending was really visceral. At first I was furious and thought it ridiculous and manipulative (and I would've also thought it darkly funny if I hadn't been so mad). But I've since calmed down, and even though I still think the ending's ridiculous and manipulative, I am not unhappy the movie ended this way because it gives me a lot to think about. The first 95% of the movie is really what I'm interested in though, and I'll go back and watch it a second time.
Paintings by Vera Iliatova, currently up at Tibor de Nagy Gallery.
Painting by Bato Dugarzhapov, seen at Context New York art fair.
Not sure if this is right, but when my eyes hit this painting, I thought it could be the color palette for my new short film "Strawberry Shake."
Werner Herzog was at Pratt the past 2 days for a visit-- it was beyond inspirational, like the shove in the dark I have been needing. I've always been a big fan but have not kept up with all his recent documentaries and haven't seen the older films (which I adore) for a while. Going to go back and watch all my favorites, basically all the films before 1980. He is extremely funny and the way he uses words is so poetic. "You won't learn about the heart of man on the internet," he told the students. It was touching to see him engaging them.
Loved Moonlight a ton (and cried through a lot of it), and so pumped for this team that they won the Oscar for Best Picture!
Driving into work today, I heard the song Sunday Morning Coming Down sung by Johnny Cash. It was written by Kris Kristofferson, and I love the lyrics, but I love Johnny's performance of it ("And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, so I had one more for dessert.") There's something about how light and easy the music/vibe is compared with how dark and complex the lyrics are that is really surprising. It takes a person a minute to realize it's not just a jaunty country song, and then when you do realize it, you're in deep.
power to the people (from Women's March in DC)
Today I finally made it to the Pipilotti Rist exhibit at the New Museum. The show's about to close and it was really crowded, so in true New York style, it was a little like going to a trance show in the middle of Times Square. I wish I'd had a longer more concentrated time with each piece. But what I saw/heard I really enjoyed. Maybe it's just in contrast to the current political landscape, but there was something so optimistic and soothing about it all. I was especially inspired by her latest work, a fragment of which is pictured above. Videos projected on multiple silk pieces hanging from the ceiling created a 3-D experience and seemed to mirror the fragmented, layered way the brain makes sense of experience.
Still above from the movie Other People. I just finished it and just stopped crying so I need to tell you upfront that it is sad. But it's also amazing, and funny, and one of the most spot-on emotional journeys that I've gone on in quite a while in a movie. There isn't a false moment in this whole movie. Big respect to the writer/director Chris Kelly. Jesse Plemons, my crush from Friday Night Lights, is amazing, and Molly Shannon is amazing. But you will cry. Just warning you.
Photo credits Amanda Field IG: @theamandafield url: www.amandafield.com
The 3 above photos were taken by my friend Amanda Field- I love them so much! Something about them is reminding me of my new short film idea, something about them feels like an emotional cousin, even if my film's photographic style ends up being something very different than these. Making a film is like solving a mystery... you start off with just buried instincts and you unearth them. In the end, it's still mysterious, but more spoken.
This color pink is really killing me lately. How to infuse a mostly natural movie (in terms of plot, approach) with this kind of sensory intensity?
photo of Hospitality by Kyle Dean Reinford
Today I was flying home from Kansas City. I visited my friend Lyn Elliot there and played with her adorable son and we talked about filmmaking a fair bit. The plane ride was bumpy, but pleasant- I'd had fun but it was Sunday and I was glad to be going home. I listened to some music-- particularly the band Hospitality over and over. I don't know what it was- but there was something about the bumpy ride and the glow of the visit and the sound of the music that was really inspiring and I made a big leap forward on the new short film I'm working on (live action). Thanks Lyn! Thanks Hospitality! Thanks sky!
illustration by Allegra Lockstadt
illustration by Allegra Lockstadt
I really like these illustrations by artist/designer Allegra Lockstadt and often think about the fact that one thing 2-d visual art (drawings, collage, paintings, illustration) does really well and really easily is strongly suggest emotional states or situations without limiting them or narrowing them down- which leaves a lot of room for the viewer to both feel the image instinctively rather than having to analyze it rationally, and also leaves a lot of room for the viewer to make their own narrative sense of the image. Like the girl in the top illustration-- you can get a sense of what she's feeling from the colors, the mark-making, and the design and you can guess at a potential context-- but it's much less strict than a photographic image. There are ways in filmmaking to engender this same level of ambiguity, complexity, and suggestion, but the ways are really different than in visual art, and less obvious I think-- because the photographic image- at least in a narrative film- is by definition concrete, ie. made up of real people and objects in one particular setting at one particular time. Film techniques like shallow depth of field in cinematography are perhaps the first things people think of along these lines, but I want to figure out some more personal, less obvious ways. I'm excited to think about this a lot in November and try to come up with my own personal brew of "suggestive techniques" (in relation to my next short film).
Mira from White Magic. Always love sleepless girls and girls in long white dresses or nightgowns. Also love the 2D cartoon trees on the photographic background.
White Magic again, just love this aesthetic.
Photo by artist Helen Reed
Writer Lucia Berlin. Thanks Leigh Davis for the recommendation.
A whistle from when composer Ryder McNair and I were trying out ideas for my short film Pow Pow Pow, found today while cleaning out my computer. I love it so. In the end this particular piece wasn't used in the film, not because it's not beautiful, but because of some subtle tonal thing in relationship to the image at that moment. I have been lucky to work with some really great composers/musicians (Ryder, Dean Parker, Will Oldham) and I still think that movie music is amongst the hardest elements of a narrative movie. In other areas of directing you might be able to say, "yes, the character's bedroom is decorated in pink," and be really exact with, for example, a color. But music is so emotional and complex and mysterious that it's hard to talk about it like that. Still with game composers it's such an amazing, fun, deep, rewarding- if difficult- process.
I'm just now in the middle of season 1 of True Detective. I had heard good things about it, and it's true, I think it's really great. Not every single episode or every single aspect of it, but, this Rust Chole character is really pretty fun and compelling and he seems like he would've been a really fun character to portray.