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Over 30 years into his career, James Gray isn’t following any trends. And he’s not about to start now.
“This idea that we’re supposed to always try to be ‘new’… That doesn’t really mean anything. Many people say: ‘Oh,
it’s important for a work to be fresh.’ The older I get, the more I realize that pursuit is a folly,” he tells Variety.
“My tastes were formed in the late 1970s, and I was influenced by, inculcated by and taught by films from before that. It’s not a conscious effort to make a statement. It’s just an extension of who I am. I think it’s important that we embrace who we are, especially as we get older.”
He adds: “If you look at Picasso, he stole from African art that’s thousand years old. Stanley Kubrick stole liberally from silent films, using ‘The Phantom Carriage’ for ‘The Shining’ and ‘Our Heavenly Bodies’ for ‘2001’. This idea that we have to create something ‘new’ is actually very much a business concept. It’s rooted in the idea of copyrights and capitalism, rather than reminding people of what is true: emotion, beauty and transcendence.”
“I like to say that what’s fresh in your refrigerator today is spoiled tomorrow.”
Since his feature debut “Little Odessa,” Gray has made, among others, “We Own the Night,” “Two Lovers,” sci-fi spectacle “Ad Astra” and “Paper Tiger.” In an industry caught between blockbusters and festival-only arthouse, his films sit in the middle.
“It’s true. It has caused me some agitation, but at the same time, it has been a superpower. This is not me saying that all art films are terrible, and I would love my films to make tons of money, but if that’s your only yardstick, then you want to eliminate risk – and risk is idiosyncrasy and subversion, and all the things that we treasure in movies.”
“I’ve always thought it was beautiful to combine both. To have complex moral dilemmas for characters and situations within a narrative context. I don’t think I’d be getting my ‘old man prize’ if the films were either one or the other.”
At Locarno, Gray will receive the Pardo alla Carriera lifetime achievement award.
His approach has certainly tempted some of the world’s biggest stars, from frequent collaborator Joaquin Phoenix to Brad Pitt (“Ad Astra”) and, more recently, Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson (“Paper Tiger”).
“Directing actors is not about telling them how to say a line. It’s about giving them the space to be themselves, to be artists, to feel free in the moment, to listen, react and be in the scene. I do that for actors, and then the word gets out. I’m very fortunate that they all talk to each other,” he laughs.
“I didn’t know that Scarlett was, as she put it, a ‘rabid fan’ of my films. But I did know that she had checked up on me to find out what kind of director I am with actors. I guess the word is out that I leave them alone.”
Gray likes the idea of ensuring that his films are unmistakably his.
“It’s like with conductors such as Carlos Kleiber. Even with different orchestras, you can still tell it’s Kleiber. It has to do with the mood of the piece and the ability to express emotion in a certain register.”
He adds: “Trust me – I don’t go on set and say: ‘I’m going to show the world that it’s me in this scene.’ That’s insane. But I think it’s good when I can see the director’s hand and when I recognize them just from a scene.”
“There are a lot of problems with auteur theory, but it’s great that you can identify a John Ford or Alfred Hitchcock movie simply from the placement of the camera and the pacing of the scene. That’s why AI is so worthless. It will never be able to do that.”
Even when working on a much bigger scale – he went to space in “Ad Astra” – Gray made sure his voice could still be heard.
“‘The Lost City of Z,’ which was insane, was a physical challenge. ‘Ad Astra’ had huge logistical challenges because you’re putting Brad Pitt on wires. But I never thought my own voice wouldn’t come through, because I wrote them. When you write your own movies, it’s very difficult not to have your own voice,” he states.
“There has been a bifurcation between the super arty and the super deluxe mainstream, and something in the middle is missing. If you look at Fellini and Kurosawa, that’s actually what they were doing.”
“If you are in the middle, people accuse you of being middlebrow. It’s not the same thing! Expressing character dilemmas and complex ideas about morality, ethics and history within a narrative context is as subversive as it gets. If you are making something so arty and obtuse, or so commercial, what are you really subverting? ‘Vertigo’ was incredibly subversive. To me, that’s what lasts.”
Apparently, he’s not alone in thinking that.
“I may say something that will shock you. I have quite a bit of optimism, which I didn’t have even five years ago.”
“This nightmarish side of AI has sharpened people’s idea of what it means to be authentic. Young people today have a real hunger for interesting, honest stuff that doesn’t feel jury-rigged to make a ton of money. I think that the reckoning is here,” he says.
“The studios are very confused. When they’re confused, and when you see a new generation coming in, sometimes it means weird stuff gets through the cracks. And that’s good.”
“I see my son going to revival houses to see ‘Il Sorpasso’ [1962 Italian comedy-drama] and it’s sold-out. That’s new. When I was a kid, revival houses were empty. It was just me and three homeless people sitting in the front row. There’s a cinephile culture that’s really exploding right now.”
He’s not finished contributing to it, even despite that “old man’s award.”
“That’s the thing: I’m not old. And I’m very gratified, but I feel like my best work is ahead of me. When he was my age, Hitchcock hadn’t yet made ‘Vertigo,’ ‘Psycho’ or ‘The Birds.’ My prime is right now.”
He notes: “In total candor, I think it’s been very beneficial to me as a creative person not to have had instant, immediate, massive success. If I had, I’d probably be stuck in some rut. Instead, I’ve had a career that has hopefully steadily built in value.”
“I sit around and think about what’s important to express in a clear and unflinching way. I don’t think about how to match past successes. If you look at someone like Peter Bogdanovich, he made ‘The Last Picture Show,’ ‘What’s Up, Doc?’ and ‘Paper Moon,’ and then his work began to slip away. I’m only mentioning him because he said it himself. He said that success was harder to deal with than his failure.”
Gray is very fond of “Paper Tiger,” however – an intense Cannes drama about two brothers caught up in a scheme that threatens their family.
“My son wanted to watch one of my films with me, and the prospect of doing that was so nauseating. Watching something you did 20 years ago is horrifying. But I very much like [‘Paper Tiger’]. I feel very close to it and I’m very proud of it, actually,” he admits.
“I do have many flaws, obviously. But not wanting to keep going is not one of them. I’m not done yet. Honestly, I feel like I owe the world one or two truly great movies. I don’t think I’ve gotten there yet.”
