FOUNDER’S DIRECTING AWARD
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An Evening with Philip KaufmanSUNDAY, MAY 5 |
In 1962, Philip Kaufman met Anaïs Nin at the University of Chicago. They spent the day together sharing ideas and she encouraged him to become a director. Two years later, at the Cannes Film Festival, Kaufman won the Prix de la Nouvelle Critique for his mystical comedy Goldstein. It’s been a brilliant career ever since.
Kaufman is a man of many interests—he’s memorably detailed the story of the Mercury 7 astronauts in The Right Stuff and the lives and careers of erotic writers Anaïs Nin (28 years after their meeting) and the Marquis de Sade in Henry & June and Quills, respectively. He’s adapted works of great literary value (The Unbearable Lightness of Being) as well as more populist fare (Rising Sun). He’s made westerns, thrillers, adventure films, gangland sagas and biopics. It is this astonishing range and versatility that distinguishes him as an auteur and director of the highest rank. His ability to find just the right tone for the material at hand evinces an ability to translate disparate authorial voices to images on the big screen. From Lena Olin and her unbearably light bowler hat to the chilling final freeze-frame in Invasion of the Body Snatchers to the breaking of the sound barrier depicted in The Right Stuff, Kaufman is responsible for numerous unparalleled and indelible cinematic moments.
Philip Kaufman will be honored at Film Society Awards Night, Tuesday May 7.
INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS
Philip Kaufman
Kaufman’s terrifying remake of Jack Finney’s classic novel updates 1950s Cold War paranoia to post-Nixon-era San Francisco where a fast-spreading epidemic is overtaking the city and it’s up to eccentric health inspector Matthew Bennell (Donald Sutherland) to try and save the day. (USA 1978, 115min)
The evening begins with the onstage conversation, moderated by Annette Insdorf. It will be preceded by a 7 PM book-signing during which both Kaufman and Insdorf will sign copies of her book.
PHILIP KAUFMAN: AN ACCESSIBLE STORYTELLER WITH A SOPHISTICATED TOUCH
by Annette Insdorf
When I show Philip Kaufman’s films to my Columbia University students—especially The Unbearable Lightness of Being and The Right Stuff—their enthusiasm and respect confirm my conviction that his movies deserve far more attention than they have received. The problem has been a lack of recognizability: because he is so versatile—and drawn to different kinds of material—even cinephiles don’t realize that the same person directed films as disparate as The White Dawn, The Wanderers, Henry and June and Rising Sun. I therefore felt an immensely pleasurable responsibility to write a book about his work (which was published in 2012 by the University of Illinois Press’ Contemporary Film Directors series).
His films are seductive: Kaufman does not simply tell a compelling story, but uses imagery in a richly textured way that makes us aware of the storytelling process. He invites us to unravel meaning, to question images, to be wary even of beautiful shots. His adaptations demonstrate that he is equal parts mastercraftsman and humanist. For example, despite their wildly different source material, The Right Stuff—which, according to Tarantino, “created a new genre, the hip epic” —and The Unbearable Lightness of Being work on at least two levels: each tells the story of compelling individuals pushing the envelope in a vivid place and time, and each finds a uniquely appropriate cinematic vocabulary for the tale. Kaufman thus invites us to reflect on the very process of visual storytelling, at the same time that he weaves the complex interactions of the individual body and the social landscape.
His layered movies fulfill my criteria for cinematic greatness—coherence and resonance. They exemplify François Truffaut’s claim, “a movie should express both an idea of the cinema and an idea of the world.” There is a sophistication in Kaufman’s films that has more to do with the French New Wave than traditional Hollywood movies. It’s not just that he grapples–graphically and poetically–with sensuality, but that he trusts the viewer to be on his cinematic toes. The opening of Quills is a good example: we think we are watching a beautiful woman who is about to make love, only to realize that the guillotine awaits her head. It makes us sit up, and doesn’t allow us to take anything in Quills for granted.
Like the subjects of two of my books, Truffaut and Krzysztof Kieslowski, Kaufman displays affection for characters, actors and spectators, challenging them to behave with intelligence, courage and tenderness. His films share with theirs a combination of consummate craftsmanship and compassion. It’s clear that Kaufman was inspired by Truffaut: in my book, I actually compare The Unbearable Lightness of Being with Jules and Jim, and Invasion of the Body Snatchers with Fahrenheit 451. All three directors obviously care about freedom (including that of the viewer), and all three love their characters (especially female). The “politics” of these directors have little to do with Right or Left; rather, Kaufman’s films manifest an anti-authoritarian stance, inviting us to be wary of leaders–especially self-appointed, self- righteous leaders.
When he embraces marginal characters, or quixotic causes, there’s something simultaneously independent-American and old-world-European in the respect for characters, actors and viewers. His Invasion of the Body Snatchers is a case in point—a cinematic cry against the ease with which we can become emotionless “pods” by choosing easy accommodation over resistance.
Kaufman’s characters are compelling, but often flawed: he explores heroism, both male and female, whether through the astronauts of The Right Stuff, or Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin. His vision combines lucidity and sympathy; like Jean Renoir. Kaufman embraces human frailty as well as transcendence. He acknowledges the need for individual freedom while affirming the bonds of community. (One can see that he studied history before becoming a filmmaker, given how his movies explore characters in times of transition.)
He is also a skeptic, refusing to simply celebrate protagonists from Jesse James to the Marquis de Sade; rather, he exposes their faults as well as their passions, leading us to question onscreen heroism. This makes his latest film, Hemingway & Gellhorn, particularly intriguing: Ernest Hemingway (Clive Owen) is seen through the eyes of war correspondent and third wife Martha Gellhorn (Nicole Kidman), and the portrait is far from flattering.
I call Kaufman’s cinema stylistically and philosophically juicy. Its profound exploration of recurring and resonant themes lead me to claim that no other living American director has so consistently and successfully made movies for adults, tackling sensuality, artistic creation and manipulation by authorities (governmental as well as technological).
Kaufman is hard to pin down: a visual stylist who is truly literate, a San Franciscan who often makes European films, he is an accessible storyteller with a sophisticated touch. There are great rewards to be found in his vigorous, sexy and reflective cinema.
Writer bio:
Annette Insdorf, Director of Undergraduate Film Studies at Columbia University, is the author of Philip Kaufman, published in 2012 by the University of Illinois Press’ Contemporary Film Directors series.
