Steven Soderbergh

by Anthony Kaufman

  SS: The Underneath was the last time I used it. I threw it out. It was making me passive. Actors hate it. And it slows you down. I was willing to live with these accidents or things not being exactly the way I might do them, by not being able to see the monitor when I wasn’t operating. To me, it was a tradeoff that was always worth it. Starting on The Limey, I started operating. I shot and operated Schizopolis, but that doesn’t count. In the case of Traffic, the other operator [Gary Jay] is somebody I’ve worked with before who is extraordinary. He’s a guy that Michael Mann won’t make a movie without. He’s just unbelievably great. And I would often give him what I would consider the trickier stuff. He was usually on the longer lens, which by definition requires more decisions. And I would usually give it to him, because he’s so gifted. He’s been doing features for many years, but he came out of documentaries. So his sense of composition within a realistic aesthetic is really pronounced. So I felt like we had the “A” team. We were, in basketball terms, what you would call a running team. And we had to be, considering the length of the script and the scale of the movie; it was a short schedule.

  AK: So you have this joke, this is your $45 million dollar Dogme movie. Were you paying attention to the other Dogme movies by Von Trier, and the others?

  SS: Since Schizopolis was shot in 1995 and not sort of finished until later, clearly, I had a similar turn. I don’t know Von Trier; I’ve never talked to him. But I certainly felt that I was becoming a formalist and that’s a real dead end. So I felt the need to break radically from that way of working, and clearly he did, too. Because his earlier films were machined to the point of insanity, unbelievable precision. Obviously, he just felt like that goes nowhere. Some of the films are more interesting than others, but I like what they’re trying to do. I thought Celebration was fucking great. Because it’s done with an attempt to get at something. And it just fit in with my revisiting Richard Lester and trying to re-insert a sense of play in the films. And I think the films I’ve made since have been more fun to sit through.

  AK: And more fun to make?

  SS: That shouldn’t matter. If that meant anything then Cannonball Run would be a great movie, because I’m sure it was fun to make.

  AK: In hearing about the production of this movie, it did occur to me and let me ask you: was this your most difficult undertaking?

  SS: Yeah, creatively and physically, it was the most demanding thing that we’d attempted. But it was not the most self-imposed pressure. Out of Sight was the most pressure I’ve felt under. Again, all self-imposed. There wasn’t a sword hanging over my head. I felt that if I failed creatively to make an interesting movie out of Out of Sight, then I was going to be in big career trouble. It was a conscious attempt on my part to enter a side of the business that was off-limits to me, because I had marginalized myself. And I knew if I failed, I was fucked. It was balanced by the fact that I loved the material and I knew what to do with the material. But to block that out on the set every day and basically make decisions as though I was making Schizopolis and knowing if I failed that I was completely screwed, it’s the equivalent of, “Be funny, Goddamn it!” So it was intense for me. I don’t think anybody would have said they noticed that. But I got up every morning with knots in my stomach.

  AK: And with Traffic?

  SS: It just felt like it’s going to be hard, it’s going to call upon everything we have, every day, but I know what to do with this, it’s the right time to make this movie. We’ve got a terrific screenplay, we’ve got a great cast, and when you have opportunities like this, you should take advantage of them and make the movie you want to make and don’t look back. I wanted it to be good and I was concerned that it be good, but it was not like Out of Sight.

  AK: There’s a couple of stylistic things I wanted to ask you about. First, my favorite shot of the movie—and I was reminded of it while watching A Hard Day’s Night—is the helicopter shot. There’s this interesting change of perspective and I wanted to ask you about how it came about?

  SS: There’s two shots I like a lot, the one [helicopter shot] going over the presidential palace and then the upside-down shot of it landing. I was operating the one in the nose of the helicopter—the one of it landing was a remote head, because you cannot get underneath a helicopter. Because I asked! I think the reason they hopefully stick out in a good way is two-fold. It’s probably the only undiluted lyrical passage in the whole film. For a minute the movie stops and is abstract for a second. And the score [by Cliff Martinez] is great there. And the second is that it’s the first time that the camera is not eye-level. The whole movie the camera is at eye-level, purposefully so, so it really stands out. Technically speaking, [regarding] the upside-down shot, I knew I wanted it to be upside-down, because I was trying to hide the fact that we were shooting it in Los Angeles. So the initial plan was that the camera would just tilt up and the helicopter would just drop right on the camera. But on the second take, I told Gary Jay, the other operator who knows how to operate a geared head, try to follow the nose. Whatever he did, it totally worked, but it wasn’t what we thought he was going to do. He ended up confused halfway through and ended up going the opposite way of the way he thought he was going, but he went with it anyway; but then we saw it on the [remote] monitor and it was great! It was an accident. Those are literally two of four shots in the whole film that I think, are not handheld.

  AK: Were there any other miracle accidents, which always make a movie great? It feels like Traffic would be open to that.

  SS: Lots of little ones, whether its dialogue here or there, or near the end of the movie when Don Cheadle is thrown out of the house—the way he hits that guy in the chest—that was in the moment, that was not planned. You could tell the guy was not happy. Just that whole scene was a really good example of something on paper I was concerned about, because it read strangely. I knew it had to be there, but I was just a little worried about it, until I saw Don do it. And he totally made it. A lot of the stuff he was saying was just off the cuff. I’ve become a fan of not rehearsing stuff. And as soon as I saw a take, I knew it was going to be okay. He found a way in and that was my way in. And that’s what you hope for everyday. You cast people that can do that.

  AK: You don’t like rehearsing stuff? When did that happen?

  SS: I don’t know. Because I used to be totally the opposite. I used to rehearse the shit to the point of exhaustion.

  AK: Do you think it has to do with your post-Underneath shift?

  SS: Yeah, a lot of it. And a lot of it is believing that life isn’t ordered. And that nailing stuff down beforehand is not as interesting.

  AK: In the press notes, you speak of a “controlled anarchy”?

  SS: Exactly. What you’re hoping for is a series of orchestrated accidents. It’s scarier in a way, because you’re not sure if something good is going to happen, but you just have to believe that the parachute will open. And it usually it does, if you’ve put the right group together. For me, it’s just a much more satisfying way of working. But again, it’s a radical shift from the way I started.

  AK: I just mentioned this post-Underneath idea. How do you feel about your career being categorized that way?

  SS: Oh, that’s the way I feel about it. I haven’t seen my earlier films in awhile, but my sense is that they are just not as much fun to sit through. I would rather sit through Out of Sight than the first four films. Just personally. If I had to leave one of them on the coffee table behind for you to watch, it would not be one of the first four. I was starting out. I was trying to figure out what the Hell I should be doing. I’m glad I spent the time trying to figure it out.

  AK: Now people are comparing you to directors like John Ford and Howard Hawks. You’re making movies really quickly, you’re making them within the studio system, and you’re making them in your own way. What’s your reaction to that?

  SS: That’s sort of the way the business has worked out. It’s not surprising when you consider the independent movement, or
whatever you want to call it, has been swallowed up by the studios, so it seems inevitable that I’d be some sort of hybrid. But you also have to, at some point, acknowledge what your capabilities are and what your limitations are. And if I turn out to be somebody who’s better suited to making the kinds of films I’ve been making lately than art-house movies, then whatever. If you can’t hit the three-point shot, you should stop shooting three-point shots, and learn how to drive the lane. So I’m just trying to play to my strengths. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to make stuff like The Limey or Son of Schizopolis, it just means I’m playing to my strengths.

  AK: Are there elements in Traffic that you’re less confident about?

  SS: There’s one aspect of every movie that scares you, or should, anyway. And consistency of tone was the issue in Traffic. Because there are three different stories and so many characters, everyone had to feel like they were in the same movie. And that was the trick. And I was going totally on instinct there. It wasn’t until we got into the editing room that I would know whether we were successful. But that was the big pocket of fear: of suddenly having an actor or scene that felt like it was from another film.

  AK: There was something about tone, I read, where you talked about the difference between a “cold movie” and a “warm movie” and that you prefer the latter. But I feel that Traffic is a cold movie.

  SS: I don’t. By design, it had to be a dispassionate movie in that it’s trying to show you a lot of things without editorializing, but I also think, ultimately, it’s also a very emotional movie by the time it lands. I hope it sneaks up on you. You’ve been watching things happen for a long time, and then in the last ten or fifteen minutes, it starts to settle. So I think you’re right, the first two hours and five minutes of the movie, you could call “cold,” in the sense that it’s staring at things. And then my hope is that it would then shift to warm and fuzzy mode.

  AK: What happened with getting Traffic produced? It started at Fox, then went to USA Films, and I imagine you shopped it around some studios before?

  SS: Well, it was at Fox. What happened wasn’t really surprising in that it was at Fox 2000, initially. But the person who was championing the project at Fox 2000 was gone by the time the first draft was ready. And the one person at Fox who was really, really passionate about it, Bill Mechanic, we now know, in retrospect, was not in a great spot to be green-lighting a movie like Traffic. Bill understood it, and got what the movie was about, but as we now know, it was a bad time for him and he was on the verge of leaving the company. We showed it to every studio in town and everybody said no.

  AK: Why do you think they said no, besides the obvious . . .

  SS: Besides the budget, the subject, the length, and the fact that there were no clear-cut good guys and bad guys, I don’t know. From the get go, USA was saying, “We want in.” And we were just testing the waters, and it turned out that they were the only people who wanted it.

  AK: I also wanted to ask you about working with Universal over the years. They have helped you out a lot with your films, from both sides of your career?

  SS: That’s an interesting story in that I’ve made four films for them. And the first two [King of the Hill and The Underneath] were absolute money-losers. But I had a very good relationship and experience with Casey Silver, who was running the studio. And in spite of my track record, he was the one who called me and said, I want to send you this script, Out of Sight. They’re talking to a lot of different people and you’re not anywhere near the top of the list, but you could be, if you decided to pursue this, because I think you’d really be right for it. And he really backed me and got me that gig. And even though the film didn’t make its money back, it was reviewed as a good thing for the studio to have done that year. It was something they were very proud of. And then when Casey got fired for making movies like Out of Sight, there was enough residual goodwill to carry over to Erin [Brockovich]. And that turned out to be the film that paid back Universal for my other three movies that didn’t make their money. So I was really happy about that, because they really had been supportive and totally left me alone to make these things. And I don’t like losing people money. I feel bad when millions of dollars are lost. I was just relieved when Erin performed the way it did, because I thought, we’re even, they invested in me heavily, I’ve paid them back. Also, bear in mind, they were responsible for Schizopolis. They pre-bought video rights for enough money to make the movie, and then I paid them back when I sold it. Not many studios can lay claim to that, nor would want to, even. But I’ve never had a “directing deal.” I have this producing thing going on with [George] Clooney now at Warner Bros., but I was very specific about not having directing language in it, because I don’t want to be obligated as a director to anybody.

  AK: You recently spoke about personal films, and you had said Traffic or Erin Brockovich are personal to you as much as say, Schizopolis; how is that?

  SS: People’s definitions of “personal” when it comes to art are very odd, and to me exhibits a lack of understanding of what artistic process is. Because I invest equally in all of these things. I don’t necessarily think that “that really happened to me” is a criteria for whether something’s good or interesting. So for the past few years, I’ve been more compelled by other peoples’ stories than my own. That’s just an outgrowth of my getting older. And I still make them the way they ought to be made and they still involve my interests and preoccupations, but they’re just not about me.

  AK: What was your entry point for Traffic?

  SS: I was interested in drugs. And not just dealers and addicts. There’s actually a brief passage in the Lester book, from 1995 or 1996, where I said, “I’ve been thinking about drugs lately, what role do they play in our culture and what do we do about them.” It was clearly something that I was curious about. Because most people have had some exposure to them or know someone who’s had some trouble. But I didn’t know what form it would take, so I just filed it away. But it was very much something that I wanted to make a movie about.

  AK: What about Ocean’s Eleven?

  SS: I’m prepping right now. It’s a big one, physically big. Technically complicated on a level that I’ve never attempted before. I think it’s going to be a hybrid of a slightly slicker aesthetic. More dollys, wideframes, I’m going to shoot Super-35. So a quotient of theatricality that I’ve moved away from, but still a very loose feel to it, still working with a lot of available light, still moving very quickly. I’m convinced that there’s still an interesting mixture between these two very different aesthetics. I’m excited. I’m terrified. It’s going to be very challenging, almost more than anything I’ve ever done. It’s got me really anxious. It’s just too complicated to now show up and know exactly what you’re doing all day. It’s a struggle. Because I tend to want to go, “We’ll just get there. We’ll figure it out.” It’s the kind of stuff that David Fincher can do in his sleep, but I don’t think that way. I just don’t think in three dimensions. Now I’m trying to train myself to think that way.

  Steven Soderbergh Interview

  Elvis Mitchell / 2002

  From KRCW’s The Treatment, November 27, 2002. Transcribed and published by permission.

  Elvis Mitchell: My guest first came to audiences’ attention in 1989 with his film sex, lies, and videotape. Steven Soderbergh has found a way of telling stories that collapse narrative in interesting, fragmented ways, but take their time in telling the characters’ stories. He’s done movies such as Out of Sight, Erin Brockovich, and his current, not exactly a remake of Solaris, but close. Tell me, because it’s not strictly speaking a remake of Solaris?

  Steven Soderbergh: No, because I went back to the book more than I did the Tarkovsky film. I’m anxious actually to get this new DVD of the Tarkovsky Solaris that’s coming out because apparently there’s a lot of insight into how Stanistaw Lem, the author of the book, and Tarkovsky related, which is apparently not too well.

  EM: The movie’s
not close to the book at all, actually.

  SS: No, the biggest departure I show is the relationship between the husband and wife as it existed on earth. The reason I felt that was necessary was if you were going to explore this idea of predestination or to what extent we’re compelled to play out the same patterns again and again that we needed to see the relationship as it existed on earth, so you could get a sense of the undertow that’s pulling these two characters.

  EM: I’m getting a sense from your last few movies that you really do take time for the characters’ stuff, and there’s a lot more feeling here than in your recent movies.

  SS: I think you can tell in the first five minutes of the movie, the way the scenes are laid out and the way that Clooney’s character is sketched, that I’m trying something a little different even than what I’ve tried before.

  EM: It’s even almost a narrative shorthand, like you really want to condense a lot of the detail of the book.

  SS: Exactly. The script for the film was only seventy-five pages long; the movie is about ninety-five minutes, and that was by design because I knew the rhythms were going to be such that if I wrote a ninety-five or hundred-page script that I would come out with a film that was too long. That was an issue I was sensitive to: trying not to make a film that was too long, both because the Tarkovsky film is often criticized for being long, and also, this time of year there’s a lot of movies coming out that are long.

  EM: I have to ask you because we often talk about this when you come here: You refer to movies sometimes as a sort of template, and there’s snatches of this that remind me of Tarkovsky’s Solaris, and even some music segments that seem to be pulled from that. Was that a template for you, a little bit, even so much as what to avoid?

  SS: Certainly it was. I thought it was appropriate that there was a certain amount of European art film aesthetic be present, at the risk of just having everybody listening to this not want to go see the film. When I think of that term, or when I think of that aesthetic, it means they’re not interested in telling you things; they’re more interested in showing you things and letting situations play out without being overly hyped or without trying to point you in one direction or another in regards to the emotional content of the scenes. In this regard, ironically, Solaris to me is sort of the ultimate audience movie because it’s totally about what you bring to the theater with you. All the questions that the film raises are very personal, questions that have very personal answers, and so I’m really anxious to see how people are going to respond.