Back when he was a freshman at Kent State, Blitz Bazawule read Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel “The Color Purple” for an English literature class. “It stuck with me,” he shared, citing not only the book’s “brilliant poetry” but also that it marked the first time he had read “African American literature that was directly connected to the continent of Africa.” That struck a deeply responsive chord for Bazawule as an immigrant from Ghana.
From that point on, the works of Walker have been part of Bazawule’s personal library–alongside those of Toni Morrison, among others.
Yet when he was asked to take a meeting to discuss possibly directing a movie musical rendition of “The Color Purple,” Bazawule had serious reservations. After all, Steven Spielberg had directed a lauded feature film adaptation. That 1985 release scored 11 Oscar nominations, earning Spielberg the DGA Award. And in 2005 a Broadway musical version emerged and became a great success, garnering 11 Tony Award nominations. A revival of the Broadway production won two Tony Awards in 2016.
Assessing the prospect of reimagining the story as a musical feature film, Bazawule initially and understandably thought: “What more could be done?”
What Bazawule did to answer that seemingly rhetorical question was go back to the source material, cracking open Walker’s book once more and finding inspiration at the very beginning when Celie, a 14-year-old African American girl living in rural Georgia–experiencing unspeakable abuse from her father–starts writing letters to God because she thinks no one else will care or listen. This stirred something in Bazawule who marveled at the “beautiful imagination” of a girl to reach out and try to converse with God.
“That’s the hook,” realized Bazawule who was searching for something new and of value he could bring to the new film. By exploring Celie’s headspace, her inspired imagination, Bazawule reasoned that he could find a unique way into the story that “would be mine,” enabling him to contribute more to the narrative and substantively push its boundaries.
Bazawule further realized that for this project he had to reimagine the movie musical itself. He watched as many musicals as possible, analyzing why some worked while others didn’t. Bazawule discovered that the successful movie musicals had one similarity–the music had a source. It didn’t fall out of the sky. The music was born out of human circumstances, the souls of people. And that origin needed to be present to do justice to the spirit of Walker’s work. He wound up deploying gospel, blues and jazz in his film–respectively in acts one, two and three. While there had to be a consistency across the arc of the story, each act, he shared, had to musically have its own “sonic, spiritual kind of North Star.”
And that North Star helped guide Celie (portrayed by Fantasia Barrino) as she escapes the drudgery and tragedy of everyday existence–the loss of two children, separation from her sister, Nettie (portrayed by Ciara), brutal abuse from a husband (Colman Domingo)–through vibrant fantasy episodes full of life and rich color. This was essential, related Bazawule, to reflect the dreams, imagination and indomitable spirit of Celie. “Often people who have dealt with trauma and abuse are mischaracterized as docile and passive, waiting to be saved. I couldn’t make that film. I know the opposite is true. People are constantly working their way out of their trauma.” And Celie envisioned a better existence, with a zest for life and an enduring kindness and caring.
The Color Purple (Warner Bros. Pictures) brought Bazawule together with cinematographer Dan Laustsen for the first time. Laustsen is a two-time Oscar nominee for the Guillermo del Toro-directed Best Picture winner The Shape of Water, and Nightmare Alley.
“Dan is a master of scale and intimacy,” assessed Bazawule, citing the John Wick movies and The Shape of Water, as respective examples. “I knew I needed somebody who understood both worlds. Our movie [The Color Purple] would oscillate between rambunctious set pieces and intimate scenes.”
Bazawule noted that Laustsen “loves a liberated camera. So do I.” Bazawule–who has an extensive music background, best known as a hip-hop performer–shared that his work in that field is “percussive and free,” and that African music informs his filmmaking trajectory. “Dan somehow has the same kind of feeling, the need to keep the camera alive. The camera is alive.” With that approach, the camera seeks and “finds things,” said Bazawule. “It’s freedom. Dan and I are in sync.”
Bazawule added that he and Laustsen agreed immediately that they “were not going to make a period film like people used to.” The norm entailed sepia and black-and-white sensibilities, which Bazawule conjectured stem from people using old surviving photographs as their visual references. Photos taken 100 years ago invariably were faded, black and white, and of sepia tone. He observed that people are generally not conditioned to see the past in vivid color. Bazawule said that he and Laustsen were not going to fall into that trap. “The photography should instead push into the world where people live,” affirmed the director, further noting that he and Laustsen are not big visual effects filmmakers, instead preferring to attain effects in-camera.
As for the biggest takeaway he had from his experience on The Color Purple, Bazawule singled out “my connection to cast and crew,” and his feelings for “the people who helped me make this movie.” He described himself as “thankful these are people I deeply care about. They will remain my friends long after this movie is out in the world.”
Bazawule’s previous credits as a director include the Ghanaian drama The Burial of Kojo and segments of Beyoncé’s Black Is King.
J.A. Bayona
While his filmography is diverse, there’s a thematic thread running through several of director J.A. Bayona’s features–first with The Orphanage, then The Impossible, followed by A Monster Calls, and now Society of the Snow (Netflix), which debuted at this year’s Venice Film Festival and was selected by Spain as its official submission for the Best International Feature Film Oscar.
These four creatively ambitious movies center on characters finding themselves in a very intense situation, with death on the horizon. It started with The Orphanage, a poignant horror movie which made its initial mark at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival. Next up was The Impossible, Bayona’s film based on the true story of a family that survived, was separated and then somehow miraculously reunited after a tsunami ravaged the western coast of Thailand on the day after Xmas in 2004. Naomi Watts and Tom Holland starred in the film.
Bayona’s third feature, A Monster Calls, came out in 2016 and centers on 12-year-old Conor (played by Lewis MacDougall) dealing not only with his mother’s (Felicity Jones) debilitating and life-threatening illness, but also a seemingly less than sympathetic grandmother and bullying classmates. Conor finds an ally when a Monster appears at his bedroom window, a huge tree-like human character who guides the lad on a journey of courage, faith, discovery and truth.
While there have been assorted notable credits since for Bayona–including Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom in 2018, and episodic work on the TV series The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power–the recently released Society of the Snow (which makes its streaming debut on Netflix next month) returns to that theme of human resiliency and survival in the face of death as we see people clinging tenaciously to life, and learning about themselves during intense crisis and tragedy. Like The Impossible with the horrific real-life tsunami in Thailand, Society of the Snow too is based on a true story, adapted from a book by Pablo Vierci which chronicled an October 1972 plane crash in the snowy heart of the Andes in the Valley of Tears. The flight from Montevideo, Uruguay to Santiago, Chile had among its passengers the Old Christians Club rugby team. They were on route to a game that never took place. The plane carried 45 passengers. Only 29 of the 45 survived the impact. They faced extreme cold, thirst and hunger and were forced to take extreme measures to stay alive. Some of the survivors died in the ensuing days. On December 23, 1972, two-and-a-half months after the crash, 16 were rescued alive.
Vierci’s book, also titled “Society of the Snow,” was written 36 years after the plane crash. It gives a voice to the survivors as well as those who didn’t make it out alive. Though it took place 50-plus years ago, the disaster has impacted–and continues to affect–generations of people.
This film has been percolating within Bayona for some time. He first read journalist/author Vierci’s book more than 10 years ago while prepping for The Impossible. In fact the title The Impossible came to Bayona upon reading a comment by Roberto Canessa, one of the survivors of the Andes crash. Bayona even recalled sharing excerpts from the book with stars of The Impossible, Watts and Holland, during breaks between takes. The book, explained Bayona, was very relevant to the story of The Impossible. There was a common bond of human caring, faith, selflessness, the willingness to sacrifice for others, and the will to live.
Bayona described Society of the Snow as “a journey of self-discovery.” He observed that the film is akin to people discovering themselves in their “own shadows.” At the outset, Bayona said he found himself “trying to find out what was missing, what was left to be told.” He recalled the first time he met the actual survivors, he left with the “impression that they needed the film more than me. There was something that still needed to be told.” A large part of that was centered on those who didn’t survive. Rescuing those names from the past carried a level of importance–it was as if the survivors wanted a conversation between the living and the dead, related Bayona.
The director also put other conversations into motion as he connected with survivors as well as families of the deceased, making sure they were in agreement on the story and the way it was told. Furthermore, Bayona put his actors in touch with the survivors–and the families of those who didn’t survive–which helped to inform the on-screen performances. Deep friendships developed among them all–and are ongoing.
Throughout the shoot, Bayona and his cast were able to phone the survivors to seek answers to any questions or to address any feelings that came up. Bayona tried to give as much freedom as possible to the actors as they dealt with their emotions while trying to do justice to this real story. Bayona observed that there are “moments where performance disappears and things happen in front of the camera.” These moments and experiences can bring more than what you might have originally imagined to the narrative–and how audiences relate to it. But these unexpected moments have to be grounded in reality. Bayona wanted to give the actors the confidence to improvise–but that improvisation had to be informed by the facts and the emotions related to them by the survivors.
For Bayona–who also served as a producer on the movie as well as a co-writer–there was another dimension of comfort afforded him in Society of the Snow. This was the first Spanish-language feature film he had directed in some 15 years. He said being “able to talk to the actors in your own [native] language” felt like a luxury–but in the case of Society of the Snow, it was also a bit of a necessity as that helped Bayona to stay especially close to the actors and continue to build trust with them as they handled complex situations in which they and their characters had to be emotionally vulnerable for a story that has deep spiritual and philosophical aspects. Translating the spiritual to the screen is always challenging, Bayona affirmed. That can only be done with a profound trust between the director and actors. And that in turn, continued Bayona, breathes life into the story, helping to fuel the empathy and sense of purpose you see and feel on screen among the characters.
Robbie Ryan
Poor Things (Searchlight Pictures) marks the second film that Robbie Ryan, BSC, ISC has lensed for director Yorgos Lanthimos. The first was The Favourite for which Ryan earned Best Cinematography Oscar, ASC Award, BAFTA Film Award and BSC Award nominations.
The first half-hour or so of Poor Things is in black and white, introducing us to among others, Bella Baxter (portrayed by Emma Stone). Then when Baxter goes on a globetrotting journey with the poorly intentioned attorney Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo), the film takes on striking color–reflecting the previously sheltered Baxter breaking out as she’s experiencing new things in new places.
This is a coming-of-age story–literally but not typically. We learn that in Baxter we have an infant’s brain in the body of a young woman, part of a Frankenstein-esque experiment conceived by mad scientist Dr. Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe). The doctor resurrects a female suicide victim, re-animating her with the brain of her baby and naming her Bella whom he takes on as his daughter.
We witness Bella Baxter over time as her brain grows into her body and she comes to grips with human nature, her sexuality and life itself. Her fresh, innocent perspective is refreshing as we see her naivete, which Wedderburn tries to exploit, mature into understanding.
The screenplay for Poor Things is from The Favourite writer Tony McNamara, adapted from Alasdair Gray’s 1992 novel.
Ryan worked closely with Lanthimos in experimenting with lenses (Pertzval lenses, adapted film project lenses, film lenses) and film stock to get the right combination for individual scenes. Kodak had to manufacture Ektachrome in 35mm specifically for portions of Poor Things because the film stock wasn’t readily available for straight up purchase. Ryan described Lanthimos as “a visual cinematographer in his own right.” The DP observed, “I’m working in a collaboration learning from a master. He knows cinematography better than I do. I feel like I’m matching up against him in a way” as they teamed to create a visual language for Poor Things.
Fittingly Ryan in tandem with Lanthimos scored three honors at Camerimage this year Poor Things–a Golden Frog nomination, as well as winning the Audience Award and a Bronze Frog.
And while Ryan may feel he is looking up at Lanthimos on the figurative cinematography pyramid, the DP is accomplished in his own right, having won a Golden Frog and an Audience Award in 2021 for the Mike Mills-directed C’mon C’mon, and a Bronze Frog in 2011 for director Andrea Arnold’s Wuthering Heights, which too was nominated for the Golden Frog.
Ryan deployed an ARRI camera adapted to turn into a VistaVision model for select sequences of Poor Things. He also shot with a workhorse ARRI ST camera.
Lanthimos had Ryan tapping into both the old and new. On one hand, for the re-animation Frankenstein-like sequence, VistaVision–used famously by Alfred Hitchcock in Vertigo–was Lanthimos’ choice (with an aspect radio of 1.66:1, not widescreen as frequently associated with VistaVision). On the other end of the continuum, in contrast to vintage VistaVision, virtual production techniques and an LED backdrop were used to help create views from a cruise ship at sea which carried Bella Baxter and Wedderburn on part of their travels. Ryan described the setting as “a moving painted backdrop” replete with ocean vistas and moving skies, helping actors to feel as if they were in that world. It felt like the ship was moving in a magical environment.
Extensive preparation with space for improvisation marks Lanthimos’ approach to filmmaking, explained Ryan. “There’s a real rhythm of how Yorgos works on a film. He doesn’t want anything slowing up the filmmaking process. He’s ready to go and doesn’t want to be wasting time.”
Part of the prep to avoid wasting time has Lanthimos reacting to what he sees and feels prior to production. For example, Ryan related that Lanthimos’ choice of lenses for various sequences was “informed by his being on a film set as it was being built.”
While its story is set in the Victorian era, Poor Things is not a period film, said Ryan. “It’s kind of a manufactured world, different than what you would imagine.”
That coincides with Lanthimos being very open to the unconventional to find what’s right for the narrative or a scene, continued Ryan, citing the choice to take a 4mm Optex lens made for 16mm cameras and place it on a 35mm camera to create “a crazy circular portal effect” which brought a unique storytelling perspective to an offbeat dance sequence in a fancy Lisbon restaurant. As Bella Baxter breaks out into a strange dance, she is joined by Wedderburn and their movements across the floor get progressively crazier. The portal feel of the lens make it seem as if we’re gazing into another world, enhancing the humor and peculiarly liberating feel of the moment.
Reflecting the value of varied storytelling perspectives in Poor Things was it winning the Venice Film Festival’s top prize, the Golden Lion, when it premiered there in September.
Kevin Tent
Kevin Tent, ACE and director Alexander Payne have been connected at the collaborative hip. This dates back to Payne’s feature directorial debut, Citizen Ruth, a 1996 release. Payne recalled seeking an editor for Citizen Ruth, a search which led him to editor Carole Kravetz for advice and perhaps a referral. Payne remembered telling Kravetz she was too busy and too expensive for him at that point–so whom might she recommend instead. She came up with two names, one of which was Kent. “He [Kent] dropped off a VHS demo at my apartment in Koreatown [in Los Angeles]. He said hello at the door. I liked it and I liked him.” That case of like has been everlasting as Kent has cut all of Payne’s feature films, from Citizen Ruth right through to the recently released The Holdovers (Focus Features).
For Kent, that collaborative relationship has yielded a Best Editing Oscar nomination for The Descendants in 2012 and five American Cinema Editors’ Eddie Award nominations–for Election in 2000, About Schmidt in 2003, Sideways in 2005, The Descendants in 2012 and Nebraska in 2014. Tent won the Eddie for The Descendants.
Kent is grateful for his bond with Payne, relating that some well established editors were “dangled” in front of the director when he was getting ready to shoot Citizen Ruth. Kent conjectured that Payne “wanted more of a collaborative person as opposed to a grandfather” who would tell him how the picture should be cut. Kent said that this led to a relationship more conducive to experimenting and being able to learn and grow with each other.
The Holdovers brings together an unlikely trio through circumstance. We are taken back to 1970 over winter break at a New England boarding school. Paul Giamatti stars as Paul Hunham, an adjunct professor of ancient history who’s stuck with the task of being held over at Barton Academy, having to supervise those kids who can’t go home for Christmas. A bit of a curmudgeon, Hunham is generally disliked by his students. But during their holiday confinement, he bonds with a held-over lad, Angus Tully (portrayed by Dominic Sessa in his feature debut). With them during the holidays is the school’s head cook, Mary Lamb (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) whose only child Curtis, a recent Barton grad, was killed in the Vietnam War. Hunham, Tully and Lamb somehow form and find a semblance of family–something they either tragically had lost or never truly had before.
In SHOOT’s Road To Oscar Preview, Payne explained that with The Holdovers he sought to make “a contemporary film in 1970.” It was as if he and his collaborators were living in 1970 and teaming to create a movie back then. It wasn’t imperative to find iconic locations that screamed 1970 to the audience. Rather, living in that year could be reflected in banal and unremarkable backdrops at times–part of everyday life during that era. Payne recalled that production designer Ryan Warren Smith, for example, embraced that approach–the focus, as it’s been in all of Payne’s movies, being on the human story.
Tent said that such humanity is achieved through Payne’s affinity for actors which translates into his allowing them “to often go at their own pace, to let them find their characters and their lines.” The Holdovers had an embarrassment of riches for an editor. Tent cited not only having “such amazing actors on this film” but also a remarkable script by David Hemingson, a first-time collaborator for Payne.
Tent said it’s hard to describe the editorial process on a Payne film but a prime priority is doing justice to the actors in character, bringing a pace to their performances without diluting or compromising them. Tent noted that Payne shoots a lot, even if he doesn’t believe he needs a scene. This offers a wider range of possibilities in the edit room. It also means some worthy scenes and takes have to be dropped for the pacing of the film. And it can be painful to see such work end up on the cutting room floor. The creative rapport he enjoys with Payne is a godsend. “We have similar tastes but keep each other honest. We have this editorial radar that tells us when something is not good yet. We keep working on it until one of us says, ‘that’s it.’”
Tent added, “We’re both even more comfortable with each other than ever before. We’ve become close friends over these years. I don’t consider it going to work when I work with him. He keeps the cutting room a light, fun place to work, which makes going to work so much better.” Payne, no matter how accomplished, has continued to grow over the years, observed Tent. “He’s an enormously respectful person and collaborative. He’s become a more mature filmmaker, more confident in what he’s doing. It shows in his films. They’re still him but more sophisticated versions of him.”
Ruth De Jong
Production designer Ruth De Jong wrapped director Jordan Peele’s Nope on a Tuesday and the next day embarked on Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer (Universal Pictures). It was the first time that the Emmy-nominated De Jong, whose feature work includes the lauded Manchester by the Sea, had gone back to back on two massive motion pictures. But she embraced the chance to work consecutively with two such inspired auteurs as Peele and Nolan.
And it’s somehow fitting that she immediately went from one to the next in that the two features had a cause-and-effect dynamic. De Jong noted that Nope helped her land Oppenheimer and the chance to collaborate for the first time with Nolan. De Jong had worked on Nope with two collaborative colleagues of Nolan–cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema, ASC, FSF, NSC and special effects maven Scott R. Fisher. The former earned an Oscar nomination for Nolan’s Dunkirk while Fisher is a two-time Academy Award winner for Nolan’s Interstellar and Tenet. De Jong enjoyed a positive working relationship with van Hoytema and Fisher on Nope, with the production designer’s accomplishments on that film including the creation and construction of a Western town from the ground up. Their gratifying experience on Nope translated into van Hoytema connecting De Jong with Nolan who was looking for a production designer to take on the creatively ambitious Oppenheimer. During a three-hour meeting, De Jong struck up a creative rapport with Nolan and his producer wife, Emma Thomas, and a foundation was laid for their collaborating on Oppenheimer.
Nolan brought her in very early on. The writer-director’s process is to spend time with his production designer prior to anyone else. De Jong enjoyed a month-and-a-half-plus stretch with Nolan, the first few weeks including extensive discussion about the script, scenes and how he envisioned them, the settings for those scenes, historical references delving into specific venues in J. Robert Oppenheimer’s life, and checking out prospective locations. Even when certain places didn’t pan out, they informed the production design. This close-knit relationship from the outset in detailed preparation was a departure from the norm for De Jong but it was a process she found invaluable and fulfilling.
At the same time, while this way of working with a director was new to her, De Jong found that her approach over the years dovetailed nicely with that of Nolan. That approach to production design is grounded in an orientation which De Jong touched upon back when she talked with SHOOT for its Road To Oscar Series in 2017 for Manchester by the Sea. Back then, she likened the role of production designer to that of researcher and journalist in a sense. “So much of our design influence comes from a heavy amount of research no matter what period, what time frame a film calls for–unless it’s some fantastical world that doesn’t exist anywhere. Otherwise, though, you have to ground your design in reality.” Thus for Manchester by the Sea, De Jong became a student of the coastal towns of Massachusetts and their residents. De Jong connected with locals to gain insights into their communities. She immersed herself in the towns to zero in on locations and the feel of settings that would help advance the story.
Similarly for Oppenheimer, De Jong took a deep dive into history. Thankfully a wealth of research had already been done in that Nolan wrote an adaptation of Martin J. Sherwin and Kai Bird’s Pulitzer Prize-winning 2005 book “American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer.” De Jong noted that the book’s authors spent 25 years researching the subject matter, providing a foundation of knowledge for the filmmaking ensemble. Still, De Jong sought even greater insight, bringing in a researcher, Lauren Sandoval, who dug deeper, collecting never-seen-before imagery from archives in the U.S. and Europe, tapping into unclassified documents, manuscripts from Oppenheimer’s trial, shedding light on a specific epic moment in U.S. history, and thus gaining a firmer handle on the characters–and their character–including that of theoretical physicist Oppenheimer (portrayed by Cillian Murphy), known as “the father of the atomic bomb” in his capacity as director of the Manhattan Project’s Los Alamos Laboratory in New Mexico during World War II.
Similar to her modus operandi on Manchester by the Sea, De Jong went to Los Alamos where there are still descendants of people who were familiar with the Manhattan Project and the town of Los Alamos during Oppenheimer’s time. De Jong reached out to those folks, gaining recollections from for example someone whose grandmother worked with Oppenheimer, someone else whose great grandfather knew him. This feedback helped De Jong and her colleagues as they teamed to build these worlds for the movie. She even ran into a scientist who had a clock from Oppenheimer’s office. De Jong quipped that she had some “Manchester” moments when delving into the Manhattan Project.
Key, though, was not falling into the trap of being so obsessed with history that it bogged down the proceedings and made the filmmaking unwieldy. Budget and time remain realities that have to be taken into account. De Jong said that Nolan “made it very clear to me he didn’t want to make a documentary. We are selling popcorn.” De Jong related that Nolan knew full well that the various disciplines–production design, visual effects, cinematography, wardrobe and music–have to be informed by the research. Yet while the artists behind these disciplines have to look at and be mindful of the research, they at the same time need to “divorce” themselves from it, focusing on capturing the spirit and essence of that moment in time.
De Jong explained that Nolan did not need to have what’s on screen heralding the year when the film was supposed to be taking place. He did not want the time period to be distracting, Instead he wanted the feel to be timeless with minimal dress and clean sets that would facilitate the storytelling and the characters. Rather than be restricted by history and research, she and her colleagues are informed by them to create a world reflecting the essence of the era. Cast and crew are ultimately free to “make our own film,” related De Jong who found that notion very liberating.
Also liberating was the trust and confidence Nolan exhibited in cast and crew. He might at times ask what on the surface would seem impossible but he believed in the capabilities of his collaborators to bring his vision to fruition. Nolan’s experience, intimate knowledge of what every department does and is capable of helps department heads to do their best work, said De Jong. There’s a feeling of empowerment and trust that spurs on each department, erasing any self-doubts about what can be achieved–even within tight budgetary and time parameters. In fact, those parameters are embraced in a sense, she observed. For example, De Jong conjectured that if she had “all the money in the world” to re-create Los Alamos, “it would have been a mess.” Having too much money and time would have you all over the place and serve to “stop critical thinking.” Instead, working within budgetary and time boundaries gets you down to focusing on what you truly need to tell a story, which can prove “a most powerful way to work, You strip away everything else. You get rid of all the noise.”
The empowerment of department heads was chronicled in a prior installment of this season’s Road To Oscar series when SHOOT connected with visual effects supervisor Andrew Jackson who, like De Jong, was brought into the process early on for Oppenheimer. Jackson noted that he was the first person to see Nolan’s script–other than the director-writer himself and then producer Thomas. Jackson went on to work extensively with special effects supervisor Fisher during an early pre-pro period, developing devices and approaches which they would run by Nolan who gave invaluable feedback. This early involvement was essential given the nature of the script. Jackson shared that “unlike a lot of scripts,” the one for Oppenheimer “doesn’t literally describe the thing you have to generate.” Rather than images, the script conveys thoughts and ideas in the head of Oppenheimer. Thus the biggest challenge, related Jackson, was “to devise or dream up the physical representation of what those [Oppenheimer’s] thoughts were,” arriving at the best way to illustrate them. This called for “an artistic interpretation of those thoughts.”
Like De Jong, Jackson too talked about working within boundaries. Adhering to practical effects and real elements on film, and not resorting to CGI, were among the well-defined parameters set for Oppenheimer. Jackson noted that Nolan “sets boundaries in the process of filmmaking,” and that is not confined to visual effects. His boundaries are in time, budget, the process of shooting on film, preferably IMAX, marrying shots ranging from raw elements to composites of multiple film elements, not deploying a DI coloring process. Limiting options with these boundaries, continued Jackson, creates fertile ground for artists. Boundaries, he observed, forces artists to dig deeper and explore solutions that are frequently more interesting than if there were no limits. This dynamic fosters innovation and helps further fuel Nolan’s films.
Oppenheimer is the fourth straight film on which Jackson has collaborated with Nolan–including Tenet for which Jackson was part of the team which won the Best Achievement in Visual Effects Oscar in 2021. De Jong too brings extensive credentials to the party. Her alluded to Emmy nomination came in 2018 for Twin Peaks. And she has tallied eight Art Directors Guild (ADG) Excellence in Production Design Award nominations over the years, including for her work on such features as Nope, Us and Manchester by the Sea–as well as a nod on the TV side for Twin Peaks.
Ellen Lewis, Rene Haynes
As casting directors on Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon (Apple TV+), Ellen Lewis and Rene Haynes came together for the second time–the first being their collaboration on Godless for which they in 2018 earned a primetime Emmy nomination for Outstanding Casting for a Limited Series.
Their collaborative paths, though, are quite different from each other when it comes to Scorsese. Killers of the Flower Moon marked Haynes’ first turn on a Scorsese film while Lewis has a long track record with the legendary filmmaker–spanning such films as The Irishman, The Departed, The Wolf of Wall Street, The Aviator, Shutter Island, Casino, Gangs of New York, The Age of Innocence, Cape Fear and Goodfellas–as well as the TV series Boardwalk Empire for which Lewis in 2011 won an Emmy for Outstanding Casting for a Drama Series.
For Lewis and Haynes on Killers of the Flower Moon, the priority was to do justice to the Osage story and bring indigenous acting talent into the fold. From the outset, there was a firm commitment that every person who portrayed a native character would be native and that includes Lily Gladstone who grew up on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana and delivers a tour de force performance.
Killers of the Flower Moon takes us to the turn of the 20th century when oil brought a fortune to the Osage Nation in Oklahoma, who became some of the richest people in the world overnight. The wealth of these Native Americans immediately attracted white interlopers, who manipulated, extorted, and stole as much Osage money as they could before resorting to murder. Based on a true story and told through the improbable romance of Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Mollie Kyle (Gladstone), Killers of the Flower Moon is an epic western crime saga, where real love crosses paths with unspeakable betrayal. Also starring Robert De Niro and Jesse Plemons, Killers of the Flower Moon was directed by Scorsese who teamed with Eric Roth to write the screenplay based on David Grann’s best-selling book of the same title.
Lewis reached out to Haynes based on her experience in indigenous casting and the rapport they enjoyed on Godless. Back in 2018, Haynes began to formulate a lineup of indigenous women who might be right for the role of Mollie, her sisters and mom. Haynes and Lewis culled through them and select candidates emerged. Lewis first connected with Gladstone many years ago on a film and saw the actor’s career progress over the years, breaking through in Kelly Reichardt’s 2016 film, Certain Women. Exploring various actors for the pivotal role of Mollie, Lewis and Haynes found themselves gravitating back to Gladstone. A Zoom call was set up among Gladstone, Scorsese and DiCaprio, which laid the foundation for her being cast as Mollie.
Among other notable bits of indigenous casting was securing Tantoo Cardinal as Mollie’s mother, Lizzie. Haynes worked with Cardinal in Dances With Wolves, and Lewis noted that Scorsese was well aware of Cardinal and was enamored with her performance in the film Black Robe.
But beyond performers who had already made their mark to one degree or another, Lewis and Haynes reached out to the community at large to discover native American talent. A big open casting call was initiated in Oklahoma, part of an outreach to the Osage and native Oklahoman communities. Multiple days in the Oklahoma towns of Pawhuska, Oklahoma City and Tulsa had Lewis and Haynes meeting assorted native Americans. A pool of prospective acting talent was developed for supporting roles.
The process initiated by these grass-roots meetings proved successful. Haynes noted that ultimately Killers of the Flower Moon had 60-plus main indigenous characters in the final credits–only 14 of whom were actors she had previously worked with or cast before. All the other talent was discovered through the open call process and nurtured during the course of the film.
Haynes embraced the little challenges such as the passage of time which saw kids grow up. She, for instance, found girls of varying age to play a daughter of Ernest and Mollie over the years. That daughter was in fact portrayed by three indigenous girls cast by Haynes and Lewis.
Lewis and Haynes both felt gratified over their experience on Killers of the Flower Moon–and the final result. Haynes said that among the memorable takeaways she had was “seeing the celebration of indigenous talent on the red carpet at Cannes. That’s something we’ve never seen before.” She added that a story about indigenous women “is also something we don’t get to see very often.”
Lewis concurred, noting that the film carried a deep sense of purpose, telling “a painful, deeply important story of American history, a family of women.”
In addition to their shared Emmy nomination for Godless, Lewis and Haynes have individual Emmy nods. Lewis not only won an Emmy for her casting on Boardwalk Empire but also The Queen’s Gambit and Angels in America. She was additionally nominated for her work on Wit. Haynes has a total of three Emmy nominations–the other two being for the film Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, and the miniseries Into the West.
(This is the ninth installment of a 16-part series with future installments of The Road To Oscar slated to run in the weekly SHOOT>e.dition, The SHOOT Dailies and on SHOOTonline.com, with select installments also in print issues. The series will appear weekly through the Academy Awards gala ceremony. Nominations for the 96th Academy Awards will be announced on January 23, 2024, The 96th Oscars will be held on Sunday, March 10, 2024.)
