Sara Driver: ‘You dream a film before you make it’ | Little White Lies

Interviews

Sara Dri­ver: You dream a film before you make it’

22 Jun 2018

Words by David Jenkins

Woman wearing sunglasses and long hair, against backdrop of street scene
Woman wearing sunglasses and long hair, against backdrop of street scene
The New York artist-film­mak­er dis­cuss­es her inti­mate new pro­file of Jean-Michel Basquiat.

It’s not a sight you see very often: a direc­tor cred­it dis­play­ing the name Sara Dri­ver. Her first film work was as a direc­tor in 1983 – she made a film inspired by a Paul Bowles nov­el called You Are Not I’, and only secured the leg­endary author’s approval after it was made. She seemed to shift towards some­thing a lit­tle more notice­ably pol­ished with 1986’s tremen­dous­ly weird and won­der­ful Sleep­walk and then, fol­low­ing the charm­ing ghost sto­ry When Pigs Fly, every­thing went qui­et on that front.

Dri­ver most­ly worked behind the scenes, main­ly assist­ing in writ­ing screen­plays with her hus­band, Jim Jar­musch, for films like Pater­son, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samu­rai and Bro­ken Flow­ers. Now she’s back with Boom for Real: The Late Teenage Years of Jean-Michel Basquiat, a doc­u­men­tary chart­ing the cre­ative blos­som­ing of the icon­ic New York artist. Here Dri­ver speaks about the mak­ing of the film.

I nev­er real­ly thought about mak­ing a film about Jean-Michel Basquiat. His life was kind of so sad towards the end and it was not some­thing i want­ed to involve myself in. But a hur­ri­cane hit New York in 2012 and it flood­ed the whole Low­er East Side. I have this friend called Alex­is Adler, an embry­ol­o­gist who start­ed the first fer­til­i­ty pro­gram in New York City. She lived with Jean-Michel from 1979 to 1980 when she was study­ing at Rock­e­feller Uni­ver­si­ty. She had a mur­al paint­ed on her bed­room wall which Basquiat did when he was liv­ing there, and he also paint­ed one of her clos­et doors and refrigerator.

After the flood she got real­ly wor­ried. She remem­bered sud­den­ly that she had all this work she had put away and it was under­ground. She was afraid that it had been destroyed. So she went to retrieve it, and it was in per­fect shape – it had over 60 writ­ings, draw­ings, note­books, 150 pho­tographs she took of him while he lived with her. All very beau­ti­ful pho­tographs. I went to over to her house for a cup of tea about three weeks after the hur­ri­cane, and she showed me all this stuff. There’s such a small body of Basquiat’s work that remained at that time because he was so transient.

And so when I saw the it all, it just offered this big hint as to the artist he lat­er became. It was also a door­way into what New York was like at that time. And so I just went out and bought a cam­era and start­ed shoot­ing. I was going to put togeth­er maybe a 20 minute poet­ic short and then it just start­ed becom­ing big­ger. Every­body gave me archives and art­work. I felt very sup­port­ed in the whole process. And also this was a very par­tic­u­lar moment in time in New York because we didn’t know a name for AIDS. Nobody want­ed to live in the city because it was so dan­ger­ous and it looked like a war zone. All except for artists… we were also drawn to Down­town because of Warhol’s fac­to­ry, because Bor­oughs was liv­ing down there, all the myth and lore behind all those beats.

It’s a select­ed group that fea­tures in the film. I didn’t just ques­tion them abut their rela­tion­ship with John, but about also about the city. Like the famous graf­fi­ti artist Lee Quinonas. He was a real­ly under­ground char­ac­ter for a long time because he paint­ed over 100 sub­way trains between the age of 13 and 18. He would go up to the train yards by him­self. And he’s an extra­or­di­nary painter. He’s some­body who I knew of but I didn’t know per­son­al­ly. And now we’ve become good friends.

The kind of peo­ple that John picked to hang out with at that par­tic­u­lar peri­od was so inter­est­ing. He was observ­ing things. He was get­ting his edu­ca­tion. And he went to a school at a place called City With­out Walls, which was about learn­ing from the city itself. And they used to take these trou­bled teenagers and put them in muse­ums to work. It was almost like a con­tin­u­a­tion of his High School edu­ca­tion. He was liv­ing with Alex­is who was a sci­en­tist. He was look­ing at her sci­ence books, and many of his paint­ings have graphs and charts in them. I always won­dered why they did. And then i realised a lot of it came from him look­ing at her stuff. It start­ed to all make sense.

When I orig­i­nal­ly saw Alex­is’ col­lec­tion I knew she would be able to afford to get the mur­al off the wall, which need­ed to be tak­en off and pre­served. I was afraid that her archive was going to get scat­tered. So i thought, if I made a film – a cin­e­mat­ic record of it all – at least we would have that… Now it’s trav­el­ing to muse­ums. And there’s been a won­der­ful book called Basquiat Before Basquiat, which actu­al­ly has a lot of the peo­ple I inter­viewed in it. But I just felt like i need­ed a visu­al record just in case.

I knew Basquiat as a kid, and I loved his work of course. And I thought he was an amaz­ing poet as well as a painter. And I have great deal of admi­ra­tion for Jean. But I nev­er thought I would make a film about him. I nev­er thought i would enter into that world. He’s worth a lot of mon­ey and its a very tricky thing. But … it didn’t even occur to me, until i saw what Alex­is had. And then sud­den­ly it all made sense. I think that’s how movies come togeth­er: you see some­thing, or you read a sto­ry, and sud­den­ly you see the whole thing. It’s almost like you dream a film before you make it.”

Boom for Real is released 22 June. Read the LWLies review.

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