Interview with THE SPECTACULAR NOW Director James Ponsoldt

Director James Ponsoldt of this summer’s The Spectacular Now was gracious enough to sit down with me for a quick interview.

MC: So, let me get a couple of things out of the way real quickly. Obviously, the cast is incredible. I know it’s been harped upon, but deservedly so. But really, just thank you for making a film that treats teenagers with an amount of respect that really hasn’t been seen consistently since prior to the ’80s. Why do you think filmmakers, for so long, have relied on very sensational views of adolescent interactions within the high school setting?

JP: You know, I don’t know, I can’t really say what people want to make vs. what they are able to make, at least at the studio level. I mean, you think about the 80s and the John Hughes movies and the Cameron Crowe movies, which are probably the ones we watched the most. And then the ones in the 90s that well all make jokes about, now… it’s what studios will finance.

I think, if that’s where people are working, they’re going to want things that are a little more broad and cartoony. I mean, a lot of my favorite films of the last… if Say Anything (Crowe) came out in ’89, a lot of my favorite films have been movies about adolescence, but they’ve been coming out of other countries. You know, Lukas Moodysson and his first film, Show Me Love (1998), or the Japanese film Nobody Knows (2004) a Hirokazu Koreeda film. These really amazing films about young people, they’re just coming from other countries. Where in these other countries the price point, for the most part, is much more akin to our independent films, as far as budgets. They are financially ok to invest in a story where 16 year olds are grappling with real things. They don’t have to be 40 to be worthy of that.

It feels like a very American tradition of making really dumb movies about teenagers. I mean, but, there is that strain that goes back to Rebel Without a Cause (Ray, 1955), Splendor in the Grass (Kazan, 1961), and The Last Picture Show (Bogdanovich, 1971), or American Graffiti (Lucas, 1973). Or, even a great Austinite like Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused (1993), I mean, those characters are real to me. They’re real and their problems are real, and their hopes are real and their anxieties are real. They’re not fake teenagers. They’re not wise beyond their years. And, conversely, they’re not making fart and dick jokes. They’re real.

I think more people would want to make them, it’s just studios are so myopic, so driven by the mar-… the need to make money, they don’t really invest in those. I mean, they’re not really making films for adults. They’re not making mature films for anyone. They’re making slightly immature films for immature people that will sell lots of products. They write for sequels and action figures. That seems to be what makes the most money and translates to Russia or China, or whatever, I guess, current marketing is. Which seems to put a huge pressure on films, especially human relationship dramas, of any age.

I mean, they’re not really making films for adults. They’re not making mature films for anyone. They’re making slightly immature films for immature people.

MC: That’s an excellent way to answer that. So, when they make these films so broad, typically, we have no connection. Whereas with The Spectacular Now, this is a very intimate look at very real people, and very specific, even geographically, even though nothing in this film may speak to my experience, or even that of a buddy… we typically do connect in a much greater way than when folks do take that broader approach. What is it that translates to the Russian, or Chinese markets, that doesn’t seem to get to the rest of us?

JP: I mean, when people talk about when you go for the specific, you get something universal. I do think that always is the rule. I think those films that everyone in their heart of hearts really loves. Even those mythical studio executives who sit in their office… who we sort of wonder, “what were they thinking?” I mean, if you look at the walls of their offices, they have the same movie posters you and I would have. They have a Five Easy Pieces (Rafelson, 1970) one and a French Connection (Friedkin, 1971), Nashville (Altman, 1975), or Chinatown (Polanski, 1974). They like the same movies that we all love, but they can’t necessarily make them.

I think the studio system and the studio testing system, all of those things make them very conservative in their decision making. They are very risk averse. I mean, they take a risk and they could lose… ya know, they’re publicly traded companies owned by multinational corporations, so they’re not doing philanthropy. I think, for them, the idea is that you want to do a four-quadrant movie as their big goal. Everybody needs to like it, which means it needs to be universal, but I think they have a different take on universality. I think for them, it means to be totally anonymous and lack anything that is the equivalent of regionalism. You could parallel it with, pick your favorite American city, whether that’s Pittsburgh or San Francisco or Austin, and yeah there are still a few really great dive bars, hole in the wall places, or mom and pop restaurants that have been operating with four tables, and they’re all being pushed out of the way for Olive Garden. I guess that’s the way of… I don’t know. You would think that people would value quality, and would want to preserve that which is unique and specific…

MC: You would hope so.

JP: You would hope so, and they bemoan their loss once their gone, but where were they?

I think they have a different take on universality. I think for them, it means to be totally anonymous and lack anything that is the equivalent of regionalism.

MC: Yeah. So, switching gears slightly, last night at the screening, you made it very clear that you’re not interested in moralizing or politicizing your characters, but it seems to me that there is a strong thread of, at least some low-level, social advocacy, like “Hey, adults, you have a profound affect on kids, don’t fuck it up.” Do you think that’s the natural effect of respectfully presenting and realizing human characters, rather than those rote, disingenuous archetypes, or is there something more to it?

JP: For me I just don’t think the message should get ahead of the character or the stories. I mean if you have some message that’s really important to you, you probably should be making PSAs, or some other propaganda film.

I think if you have a really complicated character, and if they really want something badly, even if they don’t know what it is, or they really need something badly, and if what they want and need are two totally different things, a really complicated character reminds us of us even if their humanity extends from something very flawed, rather than how great and cool they are… I think we’ll follow them wherever, and if one can entrench issues of race, or class, or family, injustice, anything like that, those big high-falutin’ capital letter issues, in characters and basic human drama and real tangible human need, then I think people will go with it. But, when it gets too abstract, and people get really obsessed with getting the message across, then I think things start getting preachy, and, at least, for me, things start sounding like white noise, and I just tune out. At that point it’s not a character I care about, it’s a flapping mouth delivering a message, and those are very different things.

MC: I don’t know if I see them as completely separate things. I mean I think the film walks a very tight line between the two at certain points. The scene between [Bob] Odenkirk and [Miles] Teller, specifically, where Teller says a very young adult thing after “Dan” (Odenkirk) says something like “Well, I guess if you were my son, this is point at which I would lecture you.” And Sutter (Teller) responds: “If you were my dad, you wouldn’t have to.” And I think that stems very well from each character, specifically Sutter is towing that line between what a mature kid would or would not actually say aloud. I do think that does walk a very fine line between moralizing/politicizing and that which stems from natural human drama. It’s an incredible scene, personally it’s the most beautiful scene in the movie, but do you really think line between moralizing and social advocacy are two completely different things?

JP: I don’t know. Ya know, there’s a lot of post modern filmmaking, especially in a town like Los Angeles or Austin, which are kinda fanboy towns, and I mean that in a great way; I’m a fan boy too. I mean there are tons of movies where they require you, as a film goer, and your acute knowledge of previous films and what this might be referencing, what the various signifiers are, and folks can appreciate it on just a pleasurable, slightly intellectual, light weight game. Like a fun intellectual game, you know what I mean. It’s clever but never takes itself too seriously. I’m a big fan of those movies, of those connect the dots for funny-smart nerds.

I think a film with more naturalistic characters at play, when we’re asked to believe that these are real people and characters and we’re taking them on a more emotional journey, hopefully the message, if there is one, hopefully it’s really entrenched. But, I also think that messaging is really dangerous. I think it belongs to the world of advertising.

I think if there’s a very clear message, then it kind of closes it off, if sort of snaps the movie shut, in a way. I actually really like films where if there was a message, then it’s muddled, obtuse, a bit intentionally cryptic, and the characters are so hypocritical and messy and it’s not quite clear what they’ve learned, if they’ve learned anything. Are they smarter or stupider than when they began? Those are the characters… and, when I think about song cycles on really great albums from someone like Leonard Cohen or Bob Dylan, ones that really get their hooks in me and live on in me, they’re just messy. They can be generous and humane and really immature and stupid and occasionally cruel and nasty. They can be mysterious and just alive and complicated as any human being is, but is rarely depicted in a film. That’s what I hope for. I think clear messages are just… ”alright, thanks, got the message. Thanks for that tall glass of bubbly water that was fun to drink and I forgot about it five minutes after I saw it.”

MC: Well, I’m getting the wrap up signal here, but I did want to ask about the music selection for the film. I haven’t yet seen it talked about much, on the circuit, and the selections seemed very intentional and well done. Could you talk about that for a second?

JP: Sure, like the score or the source songs?

MC: Both, please, though the source songs in particular.

JP: Yeah, so I’ve used both source and score now in all three of my features and actually all of my favorite films have no score, but these all do have score, and they all have preexisting sort of pop songs and I use them diegetically. They are always source, I never use a wall to wall, or wall of sound. For me, I just ask myself… I mean, I’m a huge, huge music nerd. I started writing about music growing up in Athens when I was 15. I was working at Rolling Stone when I was in college and thought I maybe wanted to be a music journalist, so I obsess over music, so sometimes restraint is the hardest things for me. So, I tried to step back and usually have like a huge, huge mix of music that, and I’m always like “now that I’ve made this I need to not just cram this into the movie, because then it’s just going to be some hipster mix tape, that will immediately time stamp the film.”

For me, it comes down to representing the characters, who are they, socioeconomically. Are they spending time on Pitchfork? Are they spending time going to shows? What would they be aware of, and what would honestly be representing them? That’s what I always try to do, and I take real pleasure. I sometimes even really take pleasure in when sometimes there will be music playing and there will be a character listening to music that I don’t really objectively like, but it represents that character.

now that I’ve made this I need to not just cram this into the movie, because then it’s just going to be some hipster mix tape, that will immediately time stamp the film.

As far as specific cues, there is the Phosphorescent song over the end credits. Matthew, the guy from Phosphorescent, lives in Brooklyn but used to live in Athens, and I love that song. It sounds kinda like a latter-day Springsteen song. I’ve loved his music for a while and it always seemed like he had a bit of a Will Oldham, sort of Songs of Ohio thing going. But, he’s his own guy and this song sort of cracked open for me, and it’s a classic song.

It was really important to me to have music that, without sounding too regional, definitely tipped its hat to Athens, Georgia. We have a Washed Out song playing at a party, and again, Ernest is from Georgia, and now lives in Athens, and that’s playing at that “beach party.” I always kinda find Washed Out to be so dreamy and totally wonderful summer music, specifically summer beach music, or just driving around it felt absolutely perfect.

We have that Norma Jenkins song at the bar with the older men, and it was really, really important to me to have a female vocalist playing at that moment where the story really does deal with treatment of gender issues and the way that men treat women, though at the adolescent level.

We have a Kurt Vile song, and at the Prom there’s… I mean at the high school I went to for everyone and for the most part Hip-Hop was the big thing, so when the kids come in they’re listening to Cut the Check and he’s an Atlanta guy, and he’s great southern hip-hop.

Then, there’s this Ariel Pink song, “Baby,” which is a cover of a Donnie and Joe Emerson song from the 70s, a sort of blue-eyed soul song. And that’s really one of my favorite songs, especially of the last five years; I love that song. And I think for people who don’t know Ariel Pink, it does sort of generically sounds like an old soul song. For me that decision was a very fine line. I mean emotionally everything was just so perfectly set up for the moment, I debated endlessly whether that song was a hair too cool for that moment. I mean there’s what you want to have been listening to in high school prom… so it was just a very, very fine line. I almost didn’t go with it, debating endlessly… could that have been the moment where the DJ just put that on, but I don’t think it’s so weird that it takes you out of the moment.

Otherwise, Rob Simonsen was an amazing composer and really helped tell the story. I admire the hell out of him and the work he did with Michael Danna on Moneyball (2011) and Life of Pi (2012), and some other things he did like The Way, Way Back (2013) this summer.

I think our earliest conversations I brought up Langley School Music Project, which is one of my favorite things. It’s a sort of found album that came out a couple of years ago of some progressive school in Canada in the 70s and this guy had all these elementary school students using Glockenspiel and stuff covering The Beach Boys and David Bowie. We talked about the idea of inspired amateurishness and the instrumentation of childhood. So, there are a lot of instruments that you would find in an elementary, middle or high school music class. We really tried to articulate something that was emotional and spacious in size and scope…whether it’s that or shooting in anamorphic 35, something that really expansive and respects the characters and doesn’t diminish it and make it cheap, or cool and fast. We really just wanted to make something that would still be relevant in ten or twenty years.

MC: Thank you, Mr. Ponsoldt.