SOFIA COPPOLA BY WES ANDERSON

By Dara Block (Interview October 1999)

What is it about Interview magazine that sets it apart from other publications? I have often wondered that exact question.... The magazine which was started in 1969 by the late Andy Warhol features intimate and unique conversations among artists, celebrities, musicians, and creative thinkers. I don't know why, but I kind of like that obscure eavesdropping feeling I get when I open up the publication. Recently, I was looking through my magazine archives and came across an interesting interview between Sofia Coppola and director Wes Anderson from the October 1999 issue. What a pairing! Sofia Coppola gets candid to friend and fellow filmmaker Wes Anderson about the making of The Virgin Suicides and shares all her thoughts and insights as to what she was feeling while making her debut film. Not only is this conversation intriguing, but the David LaChappelle photograph featured in the article is equally captivating, as well. I think LaChappelle perfectly captures that magical essence of Coppola and the spirit of her first film. With such a gorgeous image and fascinating article I thought it would be appropriate to share it with our readers… let's take a closer look at this interview and some of my thoughts about the two filmmakers. They are actually more similar than you would think….

Wes Anderson: When your film The Virgin Suicides (based on Jeffrey Eugenides' 1993 novel) comes out in April, everyone's going to be talking about its subject — an overprotective, '70's suburban family with five mysterious sisters who start committing suicide. I want to start by asking about the visual side of the movie because it doesn't look like any other. When you read the book, did you see the visual possibilities in it?

Sofia Coppola: Yes. The way it was written just felt cinematic. And I always liked suburbia. It's an exotic setting to me because I didn't grow up there. I didn't want it to be about the '70's. I wanted it to look timeless. It seems like those neighborhoods don't change that much.

WA: The film is shot from a teenage perspective, isn't it?

SC: Yes. Your memory of being young is very simple and I wanted it to look like that. I wanted the movie to be from a kid's point of view, a kid's world. You can get away with obsessiveness then. I feel like when you're that age, everything is really melodramatic, everything is a huge deal.

WA: Did you like working with teenagers?

SC: Oh, yeah. On the set sometimes it would be just me and a ton of them in the basement and they'd all ask stuff at the same time. Not to be condescending, but sometimes I felt a little bit like a counselor. They were like, "Can I chew gum in this?"

WA: Kathleen Turner plays the mother of the girls in the movie and her character seems kind of crazy. You sort of feel like if you're gonna blame the parents for the suicides...

SC: I don't want her to be a villain. I want it to seem like she was trying. A lot of people have good intentions but it just doesn't come out the right way. She's just being overly protective and she thought she was helping. I admire her for going that far into this really unglamorous character.

WA: Once the first daughter has committed suicide...

SC: The mother gets carried away. If any germs come into the house, she freaks out. The father doesn't know what to do. This is no reflection of my parents by the way. Someone asked me if it was.

WA: Did you grow up mostly in Napa, California?

SC: Yeah, I grew up there, but we would go on location with my dad (director Francis Ford Coppola) a lot. We were like army brats.

WA: So that's why you had no experience with suburbia?

SC: And I wasn't really friends with the kids down the street because we were moving all the time.

WA: Does that make you closer to your family do you think?

SC: Yeah, my brother and I are really close.

WA: There's something bizarre about the whole family dynamic in the film. The party that the parents put on is incredibly awkward.

SC: Again — they're trying.

WA: And along comes Trip Fontaine (the high school heartthrob who falls in love with Lux, one of the daughters, played by Kirsten Dunst).

SC: I think Josh Harnett (who plays Trip) is pretty charismatic. Girls are going crazy for him.

WA: He's that teenager who makes himself extra sexy by being, like half-asleep.

SC: Jim Morrison. You know, Jeffrey Eugenides sent a Xerox of his whole yearbook and there was a guy that Trip Fontaine was based on that had a sunset on his yearbook page. I like the way he has his velvet suit on when he goes to pick up the girls for prom and swaggers into the room to (Heart's) "Magic Man." Don't you have moments when you feel like you're in your own music video?

WA: I can remember not getting those effects, but trying a lot. Luckily there's no record to it.

After reading this clever interview, I started to realize how similar Sofia Coppola and Wes Anderson are in terms of filmmaking style. With Sofia Coppola her films tend to deal with themes of troubled adolescence, nostalgia, romance, and distanced family relations. As for Anderson, his films also deal with dysfunctional family relationships mixed in with subtle romance and melodrama. He also tends to portray sentimental and flawed characters with dry senses of humor... just think of his films The Royal Tennenbaums and The Darjeeling Limited. All the characters in those films have many of those same qualities and are also dealing with those similar types of issues.

It's not just themes in which Coppola and Anderson relate, but also with their choice of music for their films. Who could forget the brilliant Virgin Suicides soundtrack featuring music by the French band Air, or that equally amazing 80s pop soundtrack that accompanied her 2006 film Marie Antoinette? I think her choice in music is part of what makes a Sofia Coppola film so special and unique. As with Anderson, his soundtracks too, also add to the style of his films. His movies usually feature British rock and folk music from the 1960s. I so love the way he incorporated The Rolling Stones in The Royal Tennenbaums and of course, Donovan in Rushmore. Both Coppola and Anderson clearly understand the importance of a good soundtrack in a film and how it can add to the storyline.

And yet another way in which the two filmmakers relate is that they both like to work with the same actors. For Sofia Coppola, it's obvious that Kirsten Dunst has been a constant muse first starring as Lux Lisbon in The Virgin Suicides and then as the teen queen in Marie Antoinette. As for Wes Anderson, it's clear that Bill Murray has always been a main inspiration starring in Rushmore The Royal Tennenbaums, he Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, and the soon to be released Moonrise Kingdom. Sofia Coppola can very much relate to Anderson's admiration for Bill Murray. Rumor has it that she begged and pleaded for him to star in her 2003 film Lost in Translation and even asked Anderson to try and convince Murray when he was reluctant. It's a good thing he decided to work with Coppola, their collaboration was excellent!

What is also special about Sofia Coppola is that she likes to work with her family. Her cousin Jason Schwartzman starred as Louis XIV in Marie Antoinette and her brother Roman Coppola was a producer on many of her films such as Somewhere. Interestingly, Roman Coppola and Jason Schwartzman wrote the screenplay for Wes Anderson's film The Darjeeling Limited. In addition, it appears as if Jason Schwartzman has also been somewhat of a muse to Anderson starring in many of his films including Rushmore and The Darjeeling Limited. There seems to be a unique Coppola connection in many of Anderson's films. I can certainly see how Anderson is very much influenced and inspired by the Coppola family.

I guess there really are some strange similarities between Sofia Coppola and Wes Anderson. I never really thought about it until after I read this Interview Magazine article. Perhaps, you could say that both Coppola and Anderson like to make quirky films. Their movies tend to be artier and more visually stylish than most Hollywood films. Whatever category you want to put them in, it's obvious that these two directors like to follow their own paths and make films that are more personal to their own lives. What I appreciate most about Coppola and Anderson is that they clearly know how to depict melancholy, angst, boredom, and despair in such a beautifully cinematic way. There is something so admirable about filmmakers who can achieve that type of distinct visual style... much like these two directors. Hats off to Coppola and Anderson for going against mainstream Hollywood and for directing films that have their own personal charm!

MY PRIVATE SCREENING WITH PAULINE KAEL (by Wes Anderson)

Published: January 31, 1999 

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Wes Anderson, the director and co-writer of the new offbeat comedy ''Rushmore,'' is a lifelong fan of the New Yorker magazine film critic Pauline Kael, who is now retired. Wanting to show her his film, he tracked her down last fall at her home in the Berkshire Mountains. The following account of his visit is from the introduction to his ''Rushmore'' screenplay, to be published on Friday by Faber & Faber.

I already had Pauline Kael's phone number because I'd found it when I was looking through somebody's Rolodex a couple of years ago. ''Hello. My name is Wes Anderson. I'm calling for Pauline Kael, please.'' I had immediately recognized her voice (from a tape I have of her on ''The Dick Cavett Show'') when she answered the telephone, but I wanted to give her a chance to introduce herself.

''Who are you?'' she said, suspicious and steely. I paused.

''I'm a filmmaker, and I've just finished a movie called 'Rushmore,' and I was hoping maybe I could . . .''

''How long is it?''

''Ninety minutes.''

''Ninety?''

''Or slightly less. Ninety-ish,'' I said.

''That's a long 'Rushmore.' ''

I hesitated. I thought she was making a joke, but I didn't get it. I said, ''Well, it's got a pretty quick pace.''

''What'd you do on it?''

''I directed it.''

''Who wrote it?''

''Me and my friend Owen Wilson.''

''Who's in it?''

''Bill Murray.'' This was my trump card. I knew from her reviews that Bill Murray was one of her favorite comedians.

''Which Bill Murray?''

There was a silence. ''The Bill Murray. You know Bill Murray. You love Bill Murray.''

''What was he in?''

My mind drew a blank. ''What was he in?'' I repeated the question. I could only think of one title. '' 'Meatballs,' '' I said.

It didn't ring a bell. ''You'll know him when you see him.''

She laughed uncomfortably and said, ''O.K.'' She asked if ''Rushmore'' was my first film, and I told her no, that I'd directed a movie called ''Bottle Rocket.''

There was another silence.

''Well, lets hope this one's not too thrown together.''

I thought about this. ''How do you mean thrown together?'' I said.

She didn't answer. I waited. She laughed quietly, and then she seemed to warm up all of a sudden: ''O.K., send me the tape,'' she said.

''Actually, to tell you the truth, I'd prefer to screen it for you. Is there a movie theater near you?''

She paused. ''There's the Triplex.''

''Let me show it to you at the Triplex.''

She sounded skeptical. ''How are we going to do that?''

''I'll get the studio to set it up.''

''That could be expensive,'' she said.

''Well. Let's stick it to them,'' I said.

She liked the sound of this. ''O.K., let's stick it to them,'' she said. She told me she didn't drive, and that someone would have to pick her up and take her to the theater.

I said: ''I'll do it myself. How do I get to your house?''

''I don't know,'' she said.

''O.K. I'll figure it out.''

A few weeks later I drove from Cambridge to Ms. Kael's house in Great Barrington, Mass. I brought some cookies with me which I thought I would offer her during the first reel.

Her house is stone and shingle and very large, and I saw a deer duck into the trees at the corner of the yard as I came up the driveway. I knocked on the screen door and she looked out. She was sitting in a wooden chair. ''My God, you're just a kid,'' she said.

She told me to open the door. I tried it. I told her it was locked. She told me the lock had been stiff for 20 years, and that I should just fiddle with it. She said she knew it was 20 years because she'd just finished paying off her mortgage.

I fiddled with the lock for a minute and got the door open. We shook hands and I said: ''It's very nice to meet you. How are you?''

''Old,'' she said.

She was a few inches under 5 feet tall, and she stood shakily with a metal cane that had four legs at the base. We both had on New Balance sneakers.

She has Parkinson's, which makes her shake a little bit and leaves her unsteady. She told me she had been in the hospital with meningitis during the week after we spoke on the telephone, which explained her forgetting who Bill Murray was. She told me I would have to hold her hand and help her get around, and I told her that would be just fine. On the way to the theater she told me she'd invited her friend Dorothy to join us. ''I would've gotten a group together, but I didn't want to have too many people, in case the movie isn't any good.'' I nodded and pulled into the driveway next to the theater. There was a small-town police station there, and I stopped in front of it.

''You can't park here, Wes.''

''Oh, I think we'll be O.K.''

She shook her head. She said that this was proof I was a movie director. No one else would think they could double-park in front of a police station.

We went into the lobby and she introduced me to Dorothy. ''This is Wes Anderson. He's responsible for whatever it is we're about to see.'' Then Ms. Kael told me I should change my name. ''Wes Anderson is a terrible name for a movie director.'' Dorothy agreed.

I ran out to move the car, and then found Ms. Kael and Dorothy sitting near the back of the theater. Ms. Kael explained, ''I like to see the whole screen.'' I offered them some cookies, and Ms. Kael immediately started eating one. ''These don't have butter in them, do they?''

''My guess is they probably do,'' I said.

''I'm not supposed to eat butter,'' she said, but she kept eating. 

Ms. Kael and Dorothy watched for an hour in total silence. Then Dorothy, who is a real estate agent, got paged and walked out, and that was the last I saw of her. Finally, the movie ended, and I took Ms. Kael's hand and walked with her out of the theater.

''I don't know what you've got here, Wes.''

I nodded.

''Did the people who gave you the money read the script?''

I frowned. ''Yeah. That's kind of their policy.''

We started slowly down the steps. ''Just asking,'' she said. It was a short walk to the car. ''At this point, I would usually tell you not to worry if you have to carry me, since I only weigh 85 pounds. But you look like you don't weigh much more than that, yourself.''

I was a little disappointed by Ms. Kael's reaction to the movie. I started reading her New Yorker reviews in my school library when I was in 10th grade, and her books were always my guide for finding the right movies to watch and learning about filmmakers. I'd gone to great lengths to arrive at this moment. ''I genuinely don't know what to make of this movie,'' she said, and I felt she meant it.

I drove us back to her house. We went inside, and Ms. Kael invited me to sit in her study and talk.

The house is full of books, and the rooms are large, with lots of windows. She took me to a closet in a room so crammed with tall stacks of boxes that you had to turn sideways to squeeze around them. The closet had extra copies of all her books. She told me I could have any of them I wanted. They were first editions, and I wanted to take a dozen of them, but eventually I just chose two.

I asked her to sign one of them for me, and she said this would take a few minutes. Her Parkinson's makes it difficult for her to write. That's why she quit The New Yorker. I asked her if she'd ever dictated a review, and she said, ''I think I wrote more with my hand than with my brain.'' She said she would never write again.

''Glad to hear it,'' I said, thinking of the review of ''Rushmore'' that she wasn't going to write. She looked up at me. She smiled faintly.

Then we sat for a while talking about movies, and she finished signing my book, and I told her I had to get back on the road. I was headed for New York, and it was already getting dark.

She walked me to the door, and we chatted a little longer. She told me to keep in touch, and we said goodbye. I didn't look at her inscription until I'd checked into my hotel room. It said:

''For Wes Anderson, With affection and a few queries. Pauline Kael.''