How Brian De Palma influenced the films of Noah… | Little White Lies

How Bri­an De Pal­ma influ­enced the films of Noah Baumbach

19 Sep 2016

Words by Nick Chen

Close-up of a man's concerned facial expression, wearing a tweed jacket, in a car.
Close-up of a man's concerned facial expression, wearing a tweed jacket, in a car.
Despite their styl­is­tic dif­fer­ences, these great Amer­i­can direc­tors share a sim­i­lar approach to filmmaking.

The decades-long friend­ship of Noah Baum­bach and Bri­an De Pal­ma proves that oppo­sites real­ly do attract. Despite shar­ing lit­tle in style, the pair have swapped drafts and ear­ly cuts since 1996 – although De Pal­ma turned down a role in Mr Jeal­ousy he instead offered feed­back on the project. Unsur­pris­ing­ly, then, Baumbach’s new film is more than just a career-span­ning doc­u­men­tary; it sees him and co-direc­tor Jake Pal­trow pay trib­ute to their child­hood idol and artis­tic mentor.

In terms of struc­ture, De Pal­ma is sim­ple and enthralling. It’s essen­tial­ly one long con­ver­sa­tion mixed with rel­e­vant clips: De Pal­ma speaks can­did­ly to the cam­era about sur­viv­ing Hol­ly­wood hor­ror sto­ries, the recur­rence of actors who don’t learn their lines, and oth­er tricks of the trade he’s learned along the way. By the end, you start to get a sense of what it feels like to rou­tine­ly pick up tips from a mas­ter filmmaker.

So why aren’t De Palma’s fin­ger­prints all over Baumbach’s work? Although Baum­bach grew up watch­ing the likes of Dressed to Kill and Body Dou­ble, any last­ing effect isn’t imme­di­ate­ly obvi­ous. Green­berg isn’t shot with split-screen sequences, and Frances Hal­l­i­day isn’t a voyeur with a tele­scope. Yet there is actu­al­ly plen­ty of over­lap in the films of Baum­bach and De Pal­ma, it sim­ply requires us to zoom in a lit­tle closer.

As seen in: The Squid and the Whale (2005)

Judg­ing from the awk­ward book Q&A scene in Mar­got at the Wed­ding, Baum­bach did not appre­ci­ate the per­son­al ques­tions he was asked while doing press for The Squid and the Whale. Nev­er­the­less, it’s an inescapable thought when watch­ing any Baum­bach film – espe­cial­ly when, say, Jen­nifer Jason-Leigh has a sto­ry cred­it for Green­berg. With his De Pal­ma doc­u­men­tary, though, the ludi­crous thrills and per­verse kills are assumed to be fic­tion­al. But are they? Among the film’s many sur­pris­es, De Pal­ma describes Rais­ing Cain as a fam­i­ly album,” Home Movies as sto­ries about my fam­i­ly,” and aspects of Body Dou­ble as stuff I’ve lived.”

Per­haps the most per­son­al is Dressed to Kill, the out­ra­geous B‑movie star­ring De Palma’s then-wife Nan­cy Allen. Kei­th Gordon’s char­ac­ter came from me and my sci­ence projects,” the direc­tor recalls. I used to fol­low my father around when he was cheat­ing on my moth­er. I took pho­tographs.” The muse­um set-piece, he goes on to explain, evolved from a gen­uine hob­by of chat­ting up women at MoMA, and Michael Caine’s role was mod­elled on an ex-ther­a­pist. A les­son for Baum­bach: dis­guise real-life ele­ments with Hitch­cock­ian twists to throw off journalists.

As seen in: Frances Ha (2012)

If Hitch­cock is a lan­guage, then De Pal­ma has been flu­ent in it for decades: Obses­sion is Ver­ti­go, Body Dou­ble is Rear Win­dow, and so on. I was the one prac­ti­tion­er that took up the things he pio­neered,” De Pal­ma asserts in Baumbach’s film. Alter­na­tive­ly, there’s Blow Out – often deemed the most rep­re­sen­ta­tive of his aes­thet­ic – which recal­i­brates Michelan­ge­lo Antonioni’s Blow-Up through a pulpy lens. Baum­bach, on the oth­er hand, wait­ed until Frances Ha for an inar­guable homage to clas­sic cin­e­ma: Gre­ta Ger­wig bounc­ing along the pave­ment to David Bowie’s Mod­ern Love’, emu­lat­ing Denis Lavant in Leos Carax’s Mau­vais Sang.

I’ve become more open to Brian’s Mt. Rush­more idea,” Baum­bach recent­ly observed in an inter­view with The New York­er, that you come up with char­ac­ters and a sto­ry to jus­ti­fy a great visu­al set piece.” This, he adds, led to, hav­ing Frances run­ning down the street and fig­ur­ing out what that had to do with any­thing lat­er.” Carax’s movie may have pro­vid­ed the filmic gram­mar and imme­di­ate inspi­ra­tion, but Ger­wig is real­ly sprint­ing with the spir­it of De Palma.

As seen in: Mis­tress Amer­i­ca (2015)

For the Cri­te­ri­on release of Dressed to Kill, Baum­bach cross-exam­ined De Pal­ma on the grip­ping 10-minute sequence in which Ang­ie Dick­in­son is pur­sued across a vast muse­um. It’s very impor­tant when you go to a space, to walk around it,” De Pal­ma explains to a nod­ding Baum­bach. Take pho­tographs. See what’s unique about the space… have them look in var­i­ous ways so the audi­ence gets accli­mat­ed to the geog­ra­phy of the location.”

This patient build-up is a De Pal­ma sta­ple, from the first shootout of Carlito’s Way to the pre-blood­bath prom scenes of Car­rie. Sim­i­lar­ly, in Baumbach’s Mis­tress Amer­i­ca, a house tour sets up the elab­o­rate sec­ond act’s dou­ble-cross­ing, eaves­drop­ping and squab­bling over a chess set. Ger­wig and her gang are led through the ground floor and, as with Dressed to Kill, they scru­ti­nise the décor (“this place is amaz­ing,” it’s real­ly fuck­ing nice,” are those my cats?”). And then every­one splits up for inter­sect­ing sub­plots. As De Pal­ma tells Baum­bach: The chess game can begin, but you’ve got to know the board.”

As seen in: While We’re Young (2015)

I steal from every­one: Wise­man, Maysles, Pen­nebak­er,” Ben Stiller’s frus­trat­ed doc­u­men­tar­i­an admits in While We’re Young, Baumbach’s fea­ture-length riff on how gen­er­a­tions of film­mak­ers squab­ble amongst them­selves. Of course, the plot is fic­tion­al – despite rumours of a dig at Joe Swan­berg – and yet Stiller takes his lat­est project to his father-in-law (Charles Grodin), a grumpy film­mak­ing leg­end, for a sec­ond opinion.

This was the Warn­er Bros youth group,” De Pal­ma says about him­self, Steven Spiel­berg, George Lucas, Fran­cis Ford Cop­po­la, Mar­tin Scors­ese and Paul Schrad­er in the 70s. We were all incred­i­bly sup­port­ive of each oth­er, pass­ing scripts back and forth, look­ing at each other’s movies.” Nowa­days, De Palma’s cinephile BFFs are Baum­bach, Pal­trow and Wes Ander­son. Their film­mak­ing philoso­phies may seem con­tra­dic­to­ry, but that means com­mon ground must be tak­en seri­ous­ly. For instance, when Baum­bach men­tioned the pos­si­bil­i­ty of cast­ing Ger­wig in Green­berg, De Pal­ma did his home­work: I said, Who’s Gre­ta’?’ And I looked at every mum­blecore movie and said, My god, she’s real­ly good!’”

As seen in: Everything

Towards the end of De Pal­ma, when 2012’s Pas­sion is dis­cussed, De Pal­ma address­es Baum­bach and Pal­trow (both unmic’d) on their shared indie ter­rain. I’m return­ing to the kind of movies you guys are mak­ing,” he tells them. You’re adjust­ing to the sys­tem. If you want to make per­son­al movies with per­son­al ideas, you have to make them at a bud­get.” Judg­ing by De Palma’s tales of Mis­sion to Mars (a $100m dis­as­ter) and Mis­sion: Impos­si­ble (Tom Cruise’s ego trou­ble), Baum­bach was advised a long time ago to turn down Hollywood.

You make a cer­tain kind of movie because that’s the way you see things,” De Pal­ma explains, and these images keep recur­ring again and again in these movies. That’s what makes you who you are.” Baum­bach, like De Pal­ma, is often accused of repeat­ing him­self, or at least stick­ing to the same dia­logue-heavy style, but even scep­tics couldn’t call his work imper­son­al”. At the documentary’s NYFF press con­fer­ence, Baum­bach was asked how De Pal­ma affect­ed his work, to which he respond­ed, Isn’t it obvi­ous?” He may have been jok­ing, but the elu­sive answer is right there in his films.

De Pal­ma is released 23 Sep­tem­ber.

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