Can you identify your own individual style as a director, and, if so, how would you describe it?
Gosh! [Pause] I always leave that kind of analysis for other people to attempt. I don’t like to be too self-conscious about what I do in terms of saying this is my particular style or that is. What has developed over the years, as the films have progressed, is more humor has been introduced into the mix than was maybe evident in the movies I made earlier in my career. So, I suppose that if you have to put a label on what I do, I make suspense-thrillers with a humorous undertone. I also try to do pictures that have a rich thematic subject and some kind of serious connotation. I try to make something that has a definite political or subversive context of some kind. The horror films I’ve made, and the science fiction and fantasy films, are all engaged in some kind of social or political commentary. It’s more pronounced in some pictures than it is in others but it’s always there. I’m not interested in making some kind of infantile horror movie that is devoid of intelligent discussion. That isn’t my kind of picture.
As you’ve implied, you have used horror and fantasy as a means of addressing contentious issues such as pollution and abortion. So, is there a certain freedom in masquerading social commentaries as genre films?
Usually you can’t get movies made that deal directly with serious subjects like pollution or abortion, so that would suggest that genre films do offer you more freedom to explore serious issues. Otherwise, you would have a hard time getting the pictures made and distributed because those kinds of difficult subjects are not considered commercial. But if you put them in the context of a horror film or a thriller or an entertainment movie, then you can address controversial issues head-on and get the message you want to make out there. I’ve used horror, science fiction, and fantasy as a vehicle to provide a commentary on certain thoughts and concerns I’ve had about the world. Some will understand what you are attempting to say and will receive the message and others won’t, but you do have the fun of making a picture that has audience potential. That’s really the way to get these movies made.
Would you agree that one of your primary strengths as a filmmaker is your ability to make the most ludicrous premise seem intelligent and dynamic?
Yeah, I think that’s probably true. I mean a monster baby, or an ice cream that kills people, or a flying dinosaur terrorising New York City, are all outrageous ideas, but we made them believable, at least for the hour and a half that you were watching the movie. So, yes, I’d agree, but that only works if you approach the material in a certain way that doesn’t insult the audience’s intelligence. You must take the subject matter seriously even when you dress it up with fantastical elements. What I like is when people say, “We watched a movie last night on cable and we came in about fifteen minutes into the picture. We didn’t know who made the film, but after we were watching it for about ten minutes we said, ‘Oh, this must be a Larry Cohen movie!’” I like it when people can clearly recognize the film as being mine from just viewing the picture itself without seeing the credits. I consider that a great compliment, because it means they have noticed and recognized different elements in my work.
One element I’ve noticed about your movies is your continued insistence on placing characters up on tall buildings. It’s certainly evident in Hell up in Harlem, God Told Me To, Full Moon High, and Q — The Winged Serpent. Where do you think this fascination with great heights comes from?
I don’t know. I’ve never really considered it. In Full Moon High, there’s the scene where the guy is going to jump off the building, and I always think it’s funny if a person is about to leap off a great height and somebody else is telling them to go ahead and do it! [Chuckles] In fact, there exists an entire school of psychology where they insult, berate, and even assault the patients for coming in with their problems. It’s a form of treatment that follows the route of attacking the patient. That particular scene was an exaggeration of that practice, so it had some truth to it. When I was doing Daddy’s Gone A-Hunting, I had to climb to the top of the Mark Hopkins Hotel in San Francisco because the climax took place on the roof. When we did El Condor in Spain, they built the fort and I simply had to climb to the top of it. When we were doing Q, I had to climb to the eighty-eighth floor of the Chrysler Building on a little ladder and, as I told you, there was nothing up there to keep you from falling. I guess I’m constantly climbing on top of things. There’s no question about it. When we were scouting locations in France for The Apparatus, I was climbing on top of things like the Paris Opera House. Believe me I would not ordinarily do that if I wasn’t making a movie. I would not scale these high places, but I always seem to end up climbing up something. I can’t explain it, other than to say there is the inherent dramatic potential in staging scenes like that as a lot of people are afraid of heights. I would imagine that it’s one of the most common fears we have. So, if you are going to do a scary and suspenseful movie like God Told Me To or Q, you should use some height. Hitchcock understood that and made excellent use of heights to create moments of suspense. He had characters climbing on top of the Statute of Liberty in Saboteur, and climbing on Mount Rushmore in North by Northwest. There is also the scene in Foreign Correspondent, where Edmund Gwenn tries to push Joel McCrea off the Bell Tower of Westminster Cathedral, and, of course, in Vertigo, the entire movie is about heights.
You’ve spoken of collaborating and developing scenes with actors as they are being shot. Do you consider yourself an actor’s director?
I’ll say this: there are a lot of things that I don’t think of until I see the scene being played out as the cameras are rolling. I don’t direct my films from behind a monitor half a block away from the set like a lot of directors do. Some directors are not looking directly at the actors and are viewing the performances on television screens that keep them separated from the action. I like to be right behind the camera in direct communication with the actors — both visually and vocally — so I can talk to them while they are doing the scenes. I can’t work unless I’m right on top of the actors and I’m watching the proceedings carefully and feeding them new information. I think the actors like it that way and find it creatively stimulating. They like to see that something new is developing all the time.
Did that technique evolve over time or have you always been interested in actors and their various processes?
It’s just the way I like to work, but a lot of directors don’t like actors. They are afraid of actors and try to keep their distance from them. A lot of directors try to create a position of authority, so they can seize the first opportunity that presents itself to announce, “Hey, I’m the boss here! I’m the dictator of the show and everybody has to do exactly what I tell them!” Those kinds of directors don’t want to be questioned or second-guessed by the performers. To me, the real fun of making a movie is to hire really good, inventive actors and work with them. I don’t mind it when actors ask me a question. In fact, I’ve always found that the better the actor is, the more questions he or she is going to ask. When you’re dealing with actors who don’t ask any questions, then they are probably not going to give you much of a performance. In my mind, they don’t care enough about exploring their characters. The more queries an actor asks, the more creative ideas they can come up with. That in turn inspires me as a writer to come up with other ways to enrich the character. So, I’m never threatened by actors. I enjoy the process of adding new material and writing new scenes for them. If you sit down in front of an actor with a pencil and paper, and you write a new scene right there in front of them, and then you pass it over, it’s wonderful. There is only one handwritten copy of that scene in existence and the actor has it right there in their hands. Then we just walk out onto the set and do it. I’ve always found that you more or less own the actor after doing that. They are made to feel special and involved. They often say, “Wow! This guy just created that scene for me right there — out of nothing!” Once you’ve done that, the actor just wants you to do it more
and more. When we were making The Ambulance, Eric Roberts would often say to me, “Give me a Larry Cohen line for this! Give me a Larry Cohen line for that!” And I would just do it for him. I’d write the line down, pass it along, and Eric would incorporate it into the scene. That kind of creative interaction really turns an actor on.
It seems counterproductive to the success of any film that a director would attempt to alienate or restrict his or her actors.
Oh absolutely, but some directors will take an adversarial approach because they think it will somehow strengthen their position. I don’t think that way. What I like is when some of the actors will occasionally turn up at the set on the days when they are not supposed to be working. I’ll say to them, “Hey, what are you doing here? You’re not on the call sheet today.” They will invariably say, “I just came in to see what was happening.” This only occurs because they seem to be interested in the project and the working environment I’ve tried to create. They feel compelled to show up just to see what’s going on. They don’t want to miss a thing. That’s great because you realize that these people are really into the process of making the movie. I mean, the actors work tremendously long hours — particularly on these low-budget movies — and nobody complains about it. They are so hyped-up about everything that’s going on, like I am, nobody asks for overtime or makes a big deal about the fact that they’ve had to work late and didn’t get their meal on time. They are committed and excited and involved in what we’re doing and they’re having fun. I really love that because I know these people will basically do anything for me, and that’s wonderful.
Why do you often employ the same actors? Some of your regulars, like James Dixon and Andrew Duggan, have been labelled “Larry Cohen’s Irish Players.”
I often use the same actors over and over again because I enjoy the sense of familiarity and camaraderie you get from a stock company of players. It’s always been my thinking that if the actors can tolerate me, and perhaps understand me, then they’ll be willing to come back and work with me for a second, a third, maybe even a fourth time. They also know exactly what to expect. Of course, not everybody is going to enjoy you or the atmosphere you are trying to create on the set. Some actors either do not or can not respond to you for whatever reason. Some people get with it and enjoy it and others simply don’t. That’s okay. It’s probably not for everybody. But I think those who can relish the experience (at least this is the feedback that I’ve received from certain actors) will get a lot from it. I encourage the performers to improvise and be inventive, and that’s a very seductive working environment for an actor. They know that as the director you are relying on them to be creative and bring their own ideas to how a scene is going to play. That can be irresistible.
Do you adjust your working methods to accommodate an actor?
It depends on the actor as not everybody responds to the improvisational approach. Some actors require more attention and direction, or have their own methods and approach to performance. On some of the pictures I made with Michael Moriarty, we would shoot scenes that would include two or three actors, but Moriarty would occasionally insist that I shoot his close-ups last without any of the other actors being present. In my experience that is highly unusual. I’d say, “Michael, are you sure about this?” He’d say, “Yeah, let the other actors go home and shoot my close-ups just with me. I want to do this scene all by myself.” Of course, that approach would concern me somewhat. I’d suggest to Moriarty that the script girl read the other actors’ dialogue to him, but he would refuse: “No, I don’t want anybody to read the lines to me. I know everybody’s lines. I’ll say them to myself in my head as we are going along.” I’d say, “What about the pauses? What about the looks to the other actors off-camera?” Moriarty would just shake his head and say, “I know when to pause and where to look. Let’s just do it.” So, we’d shoot the scene and, sure enough, he would know exactly when to pause and could follow the movements of the other actors with his eyes as if they were standing right in front of him, reciting their lines. It was a completely unorthodox technique, but when I would finally cut the scene together there wouldn’t be one false move or word; it was always absolutely perfect! There aren’t many actors who possess that kind of awareness and control. In fact, Moriarty would say to me that he could play the other actors’ parts better than they could, but that gives you some indication of the strength of his concentration. It really was a remarkable thing to witness. Moriarty’s approach was not exclusive to our working relationship. I spoke with one of the directors on Law & Order, who told me that Michael had done the same thing on that show, shot some of his close-ups alone without the other actors, and the high quality of his performance was unaffected.
For you, what is the most vitally important aspect of being a director?
Most directors would probably say it’s the ability to communicate. I like to do as much as I can on my movies: I write, produce, direct, and edit them; I hire the composer and do it all my way but — try as I might — I still need other people to make a film happen. That’s just the way it is. So, if you can’t communicate your ideas, thoughts, and instructions to the cast and crew, and they might be simple or complex, you threaten the stability and success of your movie. If you haven’t explained something properly and been understood, and it could be related to a scene or a character or something technical that you demand of the cameraman, the costume designer, or the makeup artist, it can all come out wrong. You can end up with something you don’t want or need. Now, on the other hand, I often find that the more crew people know the more questions they ask. The more questions they ask, the more time is wasted explaining everything to them. On top of that, they don’t always understand what you are telling them anyway, so it’s sometimes better not to tell anybody anything. Just tell them where to stand and what to do and just shoot it. This gets back to my not using boards and shot lists when I shoot, which confounds some crew-people. They can’t seem to understand that I have the entire movie locked inside my head and I know exactly where everything will fit. Nobody else needs to know where all the shots and action is going to fit, because they’ll never figure it out anyway. You just communicate the information people need to know, when it is important they know it. As long as I know what’s happening and where it’s all going to go, everything is alright. It’s as simple and as difficult as it sounds.
What about when you are composing your shots? I don’t imagine that you always strive for the poetic image, something that looks aesthetically beautiful.
I do like pretty-looking and innovative shots, but some directors can be too self-conscious about them. I like the spontaneity of arriving on set and finding the best coverage, blocking that doesn’t intimidate or dictate to the actors. But when you preoccupy yourself only with creating beautiful images and complex shots, you often ignore other important aspects of a movie. I mean, fancy shots often draw attention to themselves and that can be distracting. It can take the audience out of the reality and intimacy of a moment. Also you are really just showing off, you know? Of course, showing off worked great for Hitchcock and Welles, but I’m mostly interested in finding the shot that captures the best performance and advances the story. There are a few shots in Special Effects that are pretty fancy, but they are always conveying information and emotion to the viewer.
How authoritative are you when working with a director of photography?
I must say that on a lot of my pictures all the visual ideas mostly come from me. I simply tell the DP where to put the camera, how to frame it and when to move it. I block the scenes — exclusively — so there is never too much creative input from the cameraman in that regard as there might be on some other directors’ movies. I mean, I don’t tell the cameramen how to light the set or where to place the lights. I don’t very often tell them what lens to use either, but I will tell them exactly how I want the scene covered. I leave only the strictly technical aspects to my cameramen.
Let’s talk about e
diting. Some directors allow the editor to create an assembly of the film. The director then comes in, views the assembly, discusses it, and together they make any refinements or adjustments they feel are necessary.
Yeah, but I can’t work that way. I’ve never worked that way. I’m the one in the editing room telling the editor exactly where to make the cuts. Back in the days when I made Hell up in Harlem and It’s Alive, we worked on Moviolas. The editor would be sat at the machine and had a little yellow pencil and I would be hovering right over him. I would tell him where to mark the film and that would be where the first cut goes; then the next cut and the cut after that. We would then go out, have lunch, before coming back to see what it looked like when the footage was all put together. That would be the way it worked. I always designated all of the cutting in my movies, and the editors did exactly as I instructed. Every cut was exactly the way I wanted it. I mean, editing is really the final stage of control you enjoy as a director and is perhaps the most important phase. Through the editing, you can sharpen the focus of a scene, improve it, and twist it in ways you perhaps didn’t see when you were writing or shooting the picture. You can also place a different emphasis on the scene where something small suddenly becomes very big and important. That’s the wonderful thing about editing: it gives you the most amounts of freedom and authority.
Larry Cohen Page 66