I flunked film school," says director Alex Proyas. Actually, he exaggeratesahe merely left Sydney’s Australian Film and Television School a little early, to take a job. But Proyas is gamely attempting to liven up his biography for the sake of an interview with SHOOT. "I’d love to be wonderfully entertaining," he says, "and seem like a really interesting person."
Proyas is interesting: In addition to helming spots through bicoastal/ international Chelsea Pictures (he is the main director at the shop’s Sydney office), he has directed several films, including Spirits of the Air (1987), Gremlins of the Clouds (’89), The Crow (’94) and Dark City (’98).
Proyas’ recent commercial credits include five spots for Bank of America via Bozell, New York, and Motorola’s "Mya Spin Cities" via McCann-Erickson, New York. The latter introduces Motorola’s cyber assistant program, called Mya. The ad features the female Mya as a slinky, sexy CGI creation interacting with real people. The character was created by Digital Domain, Venice, Calif.
Landscapes, both urban and rural, are important components in Proyas’ work. In Buick’s "Observatory" via McCann-Erickson, fireflies float through the countryside at night. In Nike’s "Pillow" via Wieden+Kennedy, Portland, Ore., physical intensity is conveyed by a bleached black-and-white landscape. And urban life is both dreamy and charged in Salomon Smith Barney’s "Cuba," also out of McCann-Erickson.
Many directors are often described as "visual stylists" or "comedy/dialogue specialists," but Proyas hopes to evade those tags. "To me it’s all about the idea," he explains. "Stylistically, I try to remain subservient to that gem of a thought on a piece of paper. It’s whatever serves the concept."
Although lighting and mood seem to be integral to Proyas’ work, he says, "for me, it all comes out of composition. I’m more of a framer than a lighter. It’s about how you create a shot with different elements and how they work against each other."
Proyas was born in Egypt but moved to Sydney at the age of three, and his path was clear from the start. "I remember exactly when I decided to become a director," he recalls. "It was Lawrence of Arabia. I was very, very young … too young to actually understand any of it. But just the size of the screenaI think it frightened me. And I’ve never been the same since."
Proyas’ early departure from film school back in ’84 may have been a relief to the staff: "I was not known as a cooperative individual at film school," he recounts. "That was in my punk rock days, and I think I scared people a little bit."
Today, his presence at the school is sporadic, but more appreciated: "Now they get me to go and do lectures and things," he reports, noting that the irony does not escape him. "The first thing I say is that I’m a drop-out."
Soon after leaving film school, Proyas, composer/sound designer Peter Miller, and Sean Callinan, an art director, founded now defunct Meaningful Eye Contact. The company sought to create a business model that would encompass all aspects of filmmaking. Proyas directed both music videos and commercials through the firm, and in ’89 he signed with bicoastal/international Propaganda Films for stateside representation. In ’89 he jumped from Propaganda to the now defunct U.S. operation of Limelight Commercials, only to return to Propaganda in ’93. He closed Meaningful Eye Contact in ’94. Last year, he left Propaganda and joined Chelsea Pictures.
Most of Proyas’ current spot work is for the American market, "mainly because the Australian budgets are extremely low, and it’s sometimes hard to do the sort of things that I want to do," he explains. Another reason that Proyas is doing so much U.S. work is that he hasn’t had time to work in Europe or Australia. His feature film company, Mystery Clock Cinema, Sydney, has feature projects in development with 20th Century Fox (Masque of the Red Death, based on the Edgar Allan Poe story), Paramount (the supernatural thriller Enoch’s Portal) and New Line Cinema (an as-yet-untitled sci-fi action movie).
Proyas’ current project is the launch this month of mysteryclock.com, which will show his own short films. "I love the format," he says of the Internet. "For many years now, I’ve been shooting a series of short films, and I hadn’t really had any idea of what I was going to do with them."
But at mysteryclock.com, "we’re creating this form called minute movies, which are basically sixty-second films. The Internet is really a fabulous place for all of this stuffawith the download situation, the shorter the better. People can get these little hits of something wonderful."
Proyas is noted for his moody atmospheres, in both his spotwork and his features. "I love cities; I love architecture, spaces and environments," he points out. "One day I want to make a film that’s just environments, and there are no people to get in the way. I think that’s going to be an art house release," he laughs. "Again, short films are a wonderful medium to explore these stupid ideas that I haveaI would certainly never imagine a feature film with that concept. I guess, for me, cities are a big thing. I don’t know why I’m obsessed with cities at night; I just am."
For Proyas, postproduction is an integral part of any project. In adidas’ "Microchip" via Leagas Delaney, San Francisco, post techniques create a menacing vision of futuristic urban life. "I’ve never really been able to shoot something and hand it over," he notes. "I love post, and I tend to play with a lot of very simple little techniques in post that most people wouldn’t even know were postproduction techniques." Proyas is mum about what techniques he uses, but he does say, "I’ve always been someone who tried to do as much in post as possible … I love those toys."
But Proyas’ postproduction expertise has made him aware of a serious technology lag between spots and features. "I’ve been pushing to have the technology get to the point where we can scan an entire movie and treat it the way we do commercials," he states. "For many years now in commercials we’ve been able to color and grade films very specifically; you have almost infinite control in the telecine suite these days.
"That just does not exist on the film side of things," he continues, "and it’s enormously frustrating. I mean, you go through this highly technical process, and at the end you’re sitting there with a guy with bits of colored gel, looking at the original negative of the film to try to get the color right. I think that’s kind of absurd. Commercials are way ahead of films in that respect. Films are catching up, but it’s taking a long time."
In dealing with recalcitrant technology, Proyas maintains his tena-city. "I just think you’ve got to keep pushing as far as you can go," he says, "and keep wanting something that’s impossible. And then eventually someone will work out a way of giving it to you."
