Written by John Russell Taylor
Translator: Yi Ersan
Proofreader: Qin Tian
Source: Sight and Hearing (Summer 1974)
Currently, Jack Nicholson is one of Hollywood's highest-grossing actors. With him on board, and the project looking feasible in other ways, it won't be difficult to raise money.
However, if we think about it more closely, we will find this strange. In any case, he is not Robert Redford, and his films are rarely classified as blockbusters on the level of intent or in terms of achievements. Even his current situation is paradoxical — the films he's involved in may seem quite impressive at first glance — Antonioni and Polanski's new films have been completed, followed by those of Ken Russell and Mike Nichols — but we must also remember that antonioni and Polanski's recent films have been unsatisfactory at the box office; and after Dolphin Day, Mike Nichols' box office appeal has also been shaken.
Dolphin Day (1973)
Looking back at Jack Nicholson's career to date, it's not particularly surprising. Although he was recently nominated for an Academy Award for Special Mission (this is his third Oscar nomination), he has never been cautious and is still the kind of actor who is frequently nominated but never won an Oscar.
Special Missions (1973)
From playing the mediocre, childish young man in Roger Coeman's films to serving as a writer, producer, and actor in Monte Herman's films Shooter and Whirlwind Rider, Nicholson had a place in the film industry; after Runaway Rider, he began to gain some fame and influence. So far, his use of this situation is a striking example of a common bridge in '60s films: filling out blank checks.
The Runaway Knight (1969)
Of course, this is within the "possible" range – the trick is to know what the limits of the "possible" are. When he first started working with Koeman as an actor, Nicholson had no clear ambition to do anything else.
Like many actors, he began writing the screenplay and co-wrote the screenplay for Lonely Island Thunder with another actor, Don Devlin, whose producer, Robert Lippert, admired him and then invited him to write another screenplay with Monte Herman— a film that Coman rejected as "an undeveloped, low-quality work."
But Coman suggested that if they could make two Western action movies for a certain price, he would fund them. Since then, Nicholson has continued to write and produce, creating jobs for himself.
And then there's Runaway Rider.
Jack Nicholson: I was first involved in the production process. I was still working on Hair with Bob Rafaelsen. Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda later brought the project. They showed Bob and me first. We move it forward through financing, facilitating transactions, and so on.
Then they started shooting in New Orleans and ran into production problems and had to change staff. So I invited the team I've been working on independently to form the core of Dennis's Runaway Rider team. I don't know what happened between Dennis and Rip Toyn, who was supposed to play my role; but Bert Schneider came to me, and I always thought he wanted to not only play the role, but also supervise the production.
When they were filming, I wasn't involved in any production work, but instead focused mainly on my performances. Then, at everyone's request, I made an edit of the film — from the appearance of my character to the end. Meanwhile, Henry Jaglot edited the first half. This is the penultimate stage of the whole editing process, and there are many people working closely together.
Q: Did the success of "Runaway Rider" have had a big impact on your filming of "Drive, He Said"?
Nicholson: It's more or less related, but in order to be the co-producer and screenwriter of "Hair", the contract was written that I needed to prepare for this film.
Driving, He Says (1971)
At the time, I didn't think the film would be commercial. There are already a lot of other college-themed films on the market, and while I'm sure I can handle it well, I don't think it's enough.
At the same time, I realized that if there are two core characters in a feature film — neither of which is entirely correct or completely wrong , and the division of interests between them is very even, you break the first rule of financing: the first question people would ask is, so what is the fundamental interest? I submitted this as one of the three projects I wanted to do to the person in charge, and they disagreed with me. They think of positive college movies, and I think of negative college movies.
My idea was simply to make this movie. I'm not particularly worried about whether it's commercialized or not. I feel like it's a subject that allows me to say a lot of what I want to say. One of the reasons I love college-themed movies is that when people are naïve and young, they have the right to state a philosophy; that doesn't fit in for older characters.
If you're looking at colleges and universities as a microscopic world, the dialogue of the characters should be more philosophical. This particular environment doesn't make it seem too academic, for example you'll see two milkmen walking together talking about the poetry of playing baseball, or talking about the psychological/sexual dynamics of participating in team sports.
These are all topics discussed in the film. But they're at the heart of the film: and that's what it's all about. The film has two central characters, Gabriel and Hector. Gabriel was a young man with a politically revolutionary spirit influenced by William Reich, who trusted in His teachings on politics. His actions have also been consistent with Reich's thinking: he was right, he was right, but no one believed him, which drove him crazy and ended up being institutionalized.
Trevirian and I had a heated argument over the film's censorship because he wanted to cut out a sentence where Hector and Olive, played by Karen Black, were at the climax of sex and she said "I'm coming".
I'm sure he thinks it's crazy for me to argue about such a small compromise, but to me, this sentence is the crystallization of what the whole film is about: the contest between the characters, and their different ability to unleash that sexual power. Olive is the freest of all the characters. Gabriel was trapped by the pressure of his own vision. Hector was not very intelligent and submissive by nature, and he had a hard time associating his physical abilities with his position in society.
Hector and Gabriel represent philosophies that are completely opposed, but they live together and are neither completely wrong nor entirely right, nor fully endorsing each other. It would be foolish to try to force one of them to be the unquestionable protagonist: they live in the same room and engage in the same activities, but they are the complete opposite.
However, even Hector, when he tried to do something in the scene where he negotiated a contract, tried to be a revolutionary in his own way. Hector is also trying to continue his career as a professional athlete while also doing something new based on his own personal ethics. The film can almost be seen as bill Wharton's story. Wharton's own career exemplifies the philosophy expressed by Hector.
Do you know of any other film that, after the film was made, made its prototype a projection of the movie character? It has all sorts of things, and it is not modest to say that what we were doing at the time was quite far-sighted. I hope the film will be more successful at that time, and if it had been successful at the box office, I might be one step closer to directing a film again. But I'm still happy with the movie, whether a lot of people have seen it or not.
Q: Both "Drive, He Says" and "Beauty Twilight" were only released on a small scale. In the current distribution model, what is the commercial value of such a film?
Nicholson: Unless there's a way to market a movie as a work of art, where a movie is only shown in one or two theaters, the entrance fee adjusts to the level of specialization of the market and the intensity of demand. If I weren't financially dependent on the film industry, I'd be willing to try that.
Beauty twilight (1972)
But this approach also doesn't work much in more traditional art. For example, Beauty Twilight is very Kafka-esque in nature. Everybody knows Kafka, everybody says he was a great writer. But his work is not a publication that can make anyone rich. Now I sincerely feel, to put it bluntly, that if I were Kafka's agent, or if I were to publish Kafka's books, I would find some way to get some kind of appropriate remuneration for him and his works.
In this film, I think my character is a solitary person – aka Kafka, a man who lives alone in a room – which is a very specific image with more people associated with it than we think. When I perform, I try to honestly represent the same kind of group, and this character has the same kind of group.
But we don't like to see them in real life, so you can't expect bold moviegoers who are used to the dashing of heroes, or revel in villains, to identify with these people in the traditional way. But at the same time, that doesn't mean the film shouldn't be open to those who might want to see it. It's a process of educating the audience.
In a panel discussion I was a recent participant in, we talked a lot about the social responsibility of actors. Now I think it's the responsibility of actors not just to support candidates and the like, but to support films like Beauty Twilight, otherwise they wouldn't have a chance to be made. It's a way for actors to influence the system: to educate the masses as much as they can, and we all know that this is ultimately the most important way to influence society.
Q: Given that "Drive, He Says" and "Beauty At Twilight" are non-American films, and they don't use traditional narratives to convey their meaning, this kind of taste education may be particularly necessary.
Nicholson: The narratives of both films are quite subtle, but the meaning is more explicit. This is perhaps a feature of European cinema. You know, the practice of cultivating popular taste in the United States by increasing familiarity with foreign-language films hasn't happened as one would have expected: The audience for foreign-language films has been declining over the past few years.
Despite the good results of the release of Shouts and Whispers, Roger Koeman believes that the reason why foreign language films have made progress in the United States is simple, because they are more outspoken about sex, and once American films make such attempts, audiences will stay away, leaving only avid fans.
Shouting and Whispering (1972)
It's a chilling thing for me. But it seems to be true: Through films like Zu & Cham and Eight and a Half, all American audiences have been better educated and have a more complex and nuanced approach to narrative, character, and human nature, but now they all seem to be gone.
Now it seems that the reason for the success of "Zoom" is likely to be that it has a female "spring light" shot. This is a success that Antonioni has not had before and will never have.
Zoom in (1966)
Q: So what do you think is the selling point of Antonioni's new work Passerby?
Nicholson: This new film is quite risky; all the films I've made in the last few years have come with a huge risk, but luckily people are willing to gamble — they're probably going to just make one film like that. The risk of the film is that, while the structure of the film is its strength, the narrative thread is fragmented in a special way, giving the impression that there is a second or third narrative point.
The Passerby (1975)
The basic theme of Passerby is the change of identity: it deals with the fantasy and subconscious realm of a man, and he says, "Why don't I go out of my life and become a whole new person?" It unleashes all the mental energy locked in fantasy and tells you why you can or can't do it, and how real or unreal it is.
The film's success depends on its ability to convincingly convey a very high-end and esoteric theme. The structure is a mystery; the protagonist who chooses to change is in a very mysterious situation, and the film engages the audience with a very long, elaborate production and elusive chase.
I found Antonioni to be very disciplined when he worked. It's a very hard job, and there are sometimes tensions between us, but that's the nature of this kind of work. Of course, Antonioni has always been a master.
Some directors may think that something in the film may have happened by accident, or that the critics may have overinterpreted it. But for Antonioni, everything that appears in the film is intentional. He deserves his position, and the people he works with accept that – he's not as cocky as a dictator, he's open in many ways. He told me that he treated every scene as if it were a documentary about scene footage; he didn't want to have too many preconceptions about the scene.
Each way of working has its own obstacles. People are always saying, "What the hell is Antonioni trying to do?" What's wrong, Michelangelo?" But he almost never tells them directly, because once he explains, what he gets is limited. He won't get any output.
His real role is to stimulate the output of the crew and thus fill in the contours of his images. If you see monotonous images in one of his films, it's probably because he can't get his collaborators excited. It's a problem, especially when you have such a big reputation. I mean, people are afraid to ask simple little questions like, "Do you mind if I tie my belt?" Because there are many other more important things to do.
Mike Nichols and Antonioni have some similarities. I also paid attention to Truffaut's working methods – using guidance as an answer to all uncertainties. Truffaut was gentle; but I think he was equally determined and wouldn't make you afraid to ask stupid questions. Truffaut's work is more complex than the work of others we are talking about, because there is this paradoxical diversity in his filming group, which evolved from his style as a human. Any approach works: spend money and make your own choices.
Antonioni's basic approach to actors is "don't act, say your lines and make moves." He doesn't build dramatic structures, he just sketches out forms. The simpler it is, the clearer the pattern.
If you mess up the content and destroy the inner part of the character in the film, then your collaboration with him will be the opposite, because he is looking for clarity so that he can see the form. If you break that, you're going against his style of work. It was hard for me to learn, but I'm glad I did. It also made it easier for me and Roman Polanski to work with him on Chinatown.
Chinatown (1974)
Roman is another kind of dictator. He likes to argue, and if there is no argument, he doesn't know what to do. I don't mean fighting. Just argue. But he never lost, so it wasn't really an argument. This is his creative approach.
If nothing progressed, he would stop arguing. But Roman would still maintain this habit. So his problem is to keep people focused and have enough stimulation to ask him questions. This time he also succeeded.
We [Chinatown] is Paramount's only film to be released on schedule this year. Roman is a very reasonable person. There are very few shots that need to be shot repeatedly, and they are just small movements to be adjusted.
You know, these directors are often right. When shooting a shot, there's absolutely no reason to give up, starting with turning on the camera at a certain moment until you get the desired result.
I think I can perform for as long as a camera can shoot. This is one of the essential qualities of a professional film actor. Of course, your abilities will disappear at some point. But I think it's obvious to everyone that any insightful director will either say , "Maybe I'm on the edge of the subconscious" and try to drive you beyond it to see if there's anything special about it as you approach madness, or he'll stop at that moment.
Q: In your career, you've almost always worked with directors who are your contemporaries in terms of film. Minnelli is an exception, and of course Antonioni, but he's a very modern filmmaker. Did you deliberately do this?
Nicholson: More or less. However, not many senior directors I respect and are willing to work with have invited me. The problem is that once your prestige and experience reach a certain level, you lose contact with the new actor.
Mike Nichols often laughed at my old friend Buck Henry for not recommending me to him when he cast for Rule Twenty-Two. Soon, though, he was one of the first to see Runaway Rider, which made him pay more attention to me and put me in The Man Who Hunted for Love. Mike is older than me, but in terms of film, he's a co-mate with me — in fact, I've been working in film for a long time.
The Man Who Hunts Love (1971)
I'm willing to work with anyone who is efficient, probably for anyone who can survive in this industry long enough. That's why I wanted to work with Ken Russell, even though I was only on the set of Breaking through the Valley of Darkness for a few days, playing a doctor. Russell's films piqued my interest, some parts I really liked and some parts I didn't, and I wanted to know what his preferences were.
I love working with new people, young people. What makes me feel interesting is that I always inadvertently work with someone who looks significantly younger than me. It was something I was expecting with a strange fear, because I was able to perceive their silhouettes...