Yorgos Lanthimos: ‘Why is sex such a taboo? I… | Little White Lies

Interviews

Yor­gos Lan­thi­mos: Why is sex such a taboo? I real­ly don’t understand’

08 Jan 2024

Words by Hannah Strong

Illustration of two people wearing helmets and restraints, surrounded by futuristic machinery and technology.
Illustration of two people wearing helmets and restraints, surrounded by futuristic machinery and technology.
Yor­gos Lan­thi­mos on the intri­cate cine-suture work that it took to make his mag­nif­i­cent new film, Poor Things.

Yor­gos Lan­thi­mos’ canon­i­sa­tion as an excit­ing new voice in mod­ern cin­e­ma was almost instan­ta­neous when, back in 2009, his inge­nious and provoca­tive third fea­ture, Dog­tooth, pre­miered to slack-jaws at the Cannes Film Fes­ti­val. With films such as 2011’s Alps and 2015’s The Lob­ster, Lan­thi­mos offered eso­teric but increas­ing­ly pop­u­lar vari­a­tions on his inter­est in the more arcane and para­dox­i­cal aspects of human psychology.

Sur­pris­ing­ly, for a film­mak­er who in no way pan­ders to main­stream con­ven­tion, he became a house­hold name in 2018 with the scabrous peri­od com­e­dy, The Favourite, on which he devel­oped an impor­tant cre­ative part­ner­ship with actress Emma Stone. Since shoot­ing his lat­est film, Poor Things, in 2021, the pair have made two more films togeth­er (an exper­i­men­tal short titled Bleat and a forth­com­ing anthol­o­gy titled And), but the charmed com­ing-of-age tale of Bel­la Bax­ter, adapt­ed from the clas­sic 1992 nov­el by Alas­dair Gray has been a labour of love – one that began over a decade ago.

LWLies: Alas­dair Gray sad­ly passed away in 2019, but you met him many years before that to dis­cuss Poor Things.

Lan­thi­mos: Yes, it was a long time ago, I think it was 2012 that I met him. When I read the book, I was sur­prised to see that it hadn’t already been made into a film. I think there were a cou­ple of times that they thought about mak­ing it, but it nev­er mate­ri­alised. So he agreed to meet me and I went up to Glas­gow and had a great day with him. I went to his house and he imme­di­ate­ly got up, put on a jack­et and walked out­side, say­ing, Come, I’ll show you some places.’ We walked fast around Glas­gow, and he would say, This is the park, this is that, etcetera.’ He walked me up to the ceme­tery where he imag­ined Baxter’s mau­soleum would be and through the uni­ver­si­ty. He was very enthu­si­as­tic, almost like a child. And he was near­ly 80 years old at that point. After, we walked back to his house, and he said, Well, I’ve watched Dog­tooth, a friend of mine helped me put the DVD in. I think you’re a very tal­ent­ed young man, and you’re wel­come to adapt my nov­el into a film.’ And that was it. But unfor­tu­nate­ly, it took me a while to get there.

The Favourite had been around the indus­try as a project before you came to it but Poor Things came from you get­ting Alasdair’s bless­ing. Did that change the cre­ative part­ner­ship between you and [screen­writer] Tony McNa­ma­ra at all?

For me it’s very hard to find some­one to work with, espe­cial­ly when it comes to writ­ing. Try­ing to find some­one to work with on The Favourite was a very long process, and I read so many sam­ples from so many great writ­ers, but to find the exact voice that you think you can actu­al­ly com­mu­ni­cate with, and to build some­thing togeth­er, it’s a real­ly tricky thing. But after dis­cov­er­ing Tony’s work, it was rel­a­tive­ly easy to get going. With The Favourite, we spoke once or twice about what it should be, then he went away and then he brought me a draft – and his first draft was incred­i­ble. He got every­thing that I was talk­ing about, but so much of it is his own voice as well. That’s why I chose him, because I liked his voice and I thought it fit into what I want­ed to do. And from then on, he always pro­duces this great first draft that we work on.

We spend time togeth­er – hav­ing a lot of lunch­es togeth­er because we both love food – talk­ing about it and com­ing up with dif­fer­ent scenes or a struc­ture or sto­ry­line or char­ac­ters and we become spe­cif­ic about it. But there’s already a very strong foun­da­tion that he’s put down, that we are then refin­ing for a peri­od of time. It was the same with Poor Things – I guess for The Favourite, we had the real sto­ry and some of the orig­i­nal script that Deb­o­rah [Davis] had writ­ten, and I had worked with her on. But in this case, there was a much stronger foun­da­tion in Gray’s nov­el. We had a lot to draw on, but I think Tony found it a lit­tle bit more com­pli­cat­ed because there’s a lot in the nov­el – every­thing about Scot­land, and all these small­er polit­i­cal essays. But we’re work­ing on anoth­er adap­ta­tion togeth­er now, and it’s the same again – we think alike and get along and I like his voice. He always pro­duces a first draft which is great, and then we just build on the details.

You talked about spend­ing some time with Alas­dair in Glas­gow, and Scot­land and its polit­i­cal his­to­ry is cen­tral to the nov­el. Was it a prac­ti­cal deci­sion to change the main set­ting to Lon­don for the film?

Well, I think Alas­dair prob­a­bly wouldn’t be very hap­py about that, because he was a very proud Scots­man. But we give [God­win] Bax­ter some of his char­ac­ter, and a Scot­tish accent – Alas­dair was also a great inspi­ra­tion for Willem [Dafoe] as a pres­ence, so we fil­tered that through him. In the nov­el, the Scot­tish issue feels like a dif­fer­ent part of the book, and I felt it would just be like try­ing to make two dif­fer­ent films if I tried to put it into this ver­sion of the sto­ry. Once we decid­ed that the point of view of the film was going to be Bella’s, and it was going to be her sto­ry and her jour­ney, and work­ing with an Amer­i­can cast, it just made more sense to con­tract things.

Mary Shelley’s Franken­stein’ is an obvi­ous par­al­lel for the sto­ry, but I’m curi­ous to hear about any oth­er sources of inspi­ra­tion for you.

We had an incred­i­ble art depart­ment led by Shona [Heath] and James [Price] that did a lot of work gath­er­ing ref­er­ences from so many dif­fer­ent places. Paint­ings and pho­tographs and fash­ion stuff that either influ­enced us, or were a mod­ern thing that it made sense to pull back into the old­er peri­od set­ting. There were lots of films too. I looked at a lot of Fass­binder with Rob­bie, in order to show him some of the cam­era moves and zooms, and then Fran­cis Ford Coppola’s Drac­u­la and how they use the old school tech­niques in a more con­tem­po­rary film. There was Roy Ander­s­son too, because he uses so many minia­tures, so we would think about how we could make things our­selves, but also how we could use tech­nol­o­gy. Then there was clas­sic stuff – Pow­ell and Press­burg­er, of course, and [Fed­eri­co] Fellini’s And the Ship Sails On, which was a very par­tic­u­lar ref­er­ence for the boat. Even the exte­ri­or scene, where Bel­la comes out to give mon­ey to the poor in Alexan­dria – there’s a very sim­i­lar shot in Fellini’s film. And I would dis­cuss Buñuel and Belle de Jour with Tony for the scenes in the broth­el. [laughs] It’s all over the place.

One cru­cial aspect of the book is Alas­dair Gray’s beau­ti­ful illus­tra­tions. There’s a moment in the film where Bel­la curls up on a sofa with Bax­ter and Max, which felt like a homage to the orig­i­nal illus­tra­tion for book’s cover.

Yes, you know Shona was the one that remind­ed me of that. It wasn’t in the script. And she said, I’d love to see that image some­where in the film.’ It occurred to me when we were shoot­ing towards the end that it would be a beau­ti­ful way of see­ing them all together.

Black and white image of two people, a man and a woman, seated and interacting in an intimate setting.

You and Emma have col­lab­o­rat­ed a num­ber of times now, and she was a pro­duc­er on Poor Things. What did her involve­ment mean to you?

Very ear­ly on mak­ing The Favourite, we realised that we get along real­ly well and we love work­ing togeth­er. We trust each oth­er and that was impor­tant in this process because it took a long time to get the film made. It was impor­tant to have Emma there and to share every­thing with her. Tony was already involved, and we had start­ed writ­ing the screen­play when I men­tioned it to her, but obvi­ous­ly she knew Tony from The Favourite and already loved him, so she read an ear­ly draft. Emma’s very pre­cise – usu­al­ly it’s some­thing minoror very spe­cif­ic that she says works or doesn’t. Oth­er than that, it’s very sub­tle, but how she receives all the infor­ma­tion that I’m giv­ing her – how she reacts – is what I under­stand. She nev­er tries to impose, but I can tell by how excit­ed she gets about things, or how not so excit­ed she gets, what direc­tion we should take. She’s like a mir­ror – I’m throw­ing all this stuff that I’m mak­ing, and watch­ing her face. And then going back and reworking.

When you’re cre­at­ing a film like this, which is essen­tial­ly the real­i­sa­tion of an entire­ly orig­i­nal world, that immer­sion for the cast and crew must be essen­tial. It’s not just a hap­py acci­dent, it’s the result of a true cre­ative partnership.

Yes. For instance, when I dis­cov­ered Jer­skin [Fendrix], who did the music for the film, I lis­tened to his album, and I sent it to Emma and said, I think this guy, who has noth­ing to do with film scor­ing or any­thing, would do some­thing real­ly incred­i­ble.’ And then she lis­tened to it, and she said, Yeah, it’s like this guy just got into your mind and threw every­thing out in the form of music.’ And that kind of told me, I think this could work.

Anoth­er return­ing fig­ure from The Favourite, besides Emma and Tony is Rob­bie Ryan, your cin­e­matog­ra­ph­er. You have the return­ing fish-eye lenses.

We went even fur­ther on this one. Even rounder!

It remind­ed me of being a kid, peer­ing into an aquar­i­um. There’s also the tran­si­tions from black-and-white to colour in this film. I know you’ve used black-and-white for Bleat now too, but what was the ratio­nale here?

In the begin­ning, we just want­ed some flash­back scenes in black-and-white. But then we start­ed test­ing and we just thought it was so beau­ti­ful. I was like, It’s a shame we’re only gonna do these two scenes in black and white,’ and then I start­ed think­ing, there’s this whole jour­ney that she takes, so maybe there should be a very clear change, almost like The Wiz­ard of Oz. And there’s an added bonus of when she comes back home, you see that world in colour for the first time. Then we start­ed to exper­i­ment with oth­er film stocks – we shot some of the colour stuff in Ektachrome, which is a film that is not very wide­ly used, because it is very dif­fi­cult to use. We were try­ing to incor­po­rate these dif­fer­ent tex­tures and colours in var­i­ous parts of the film and have it make sense for the sto­ry as well as being inter­est­ing to look at.

How has hav­ing increased resources influ­enced your filmmaking?

It makes you want to exper­i­ment, and dis­cov­er things cre­ative­ly, and visu­al­ly, and son­i­cal­ly. There’s a feel­ing that you’re pro­gress­ing and under­stand­ing more about how you use all these tools as a film­mak­er. For exam­ple, I had a lot of trou­ble using music in my ear­li­er films, and then I slow­ly man­aged to find a way of doing it which wasn’t lim­it­ing to me. But also, Poor Things espe­cial­ly need­ed that sort of world build­ing in var­i­ous aspects – lit­er­al­ly build­ing the sets in the world. And also how you film, and the atmos­phere you create.

This is the first time you’ve real­ly used VFX in a film. How much were you able to do in-cam­era and practically?

We were most­ly able to build every­thing, and we only need­ed to enhance the world upwards because we built mas­sive sets, but because of the way we filmed with very wide angle lens­es and low angles we would always see the ceil­ing of the stu­dios. We had paint­ed back­grounds, and when we want­ed to make things a lit­tle more ani­mat­ed, like in the case of the ship we would use an LED screen. Actu­al­ly, there’s a lot of minia­tures in the chap­ter dividers – the one with the fish is a minia­ture. A minia­ture fish, we shrank Emma down. In the wide shots of the ship, that’s a minia­ture too, and Alfie’s house, when we see Bel­la arrive, is a minia­ture. We were very tac­tile, and want­ed to use old school film­mak­ing tech­niques, but com­bine them with new technology.

Dark clouds in moody sky, deck chairs overlooking vast ocean view

The Favourite and Poor Things deal with themes of social mobil­i­sa­tion and fem­i­nism, and women mak­ing their way in the world. Do you notice this con­nec­tive tis­sue in your work?

You’re prob­a­bly in a bet­ter posi­tion to draw those par­al­lels and com­par­isons as I’m so close to the films, but I guess there’s two things that I always like to try and raise ques­tions about: rules in soci­ety, and also human inter­ac­tion, rela­tion­ships and behav­iour. I cre­ate these char­ac­ters that are ask­ing these ques­tions, and are try­ing to break free from the con­fines of soci­etal struc­tures. I was always inter­est­ed in female char­ac­ters and their inter­ac­tion with male char­ac­ters, but I’m not sure what the rea­son is… maybe I wasn’t see­ing a lot of them. There’s prob­a­bly per­son­al cir­cum­stances in my life as well.

There has been this almost puri­tan­i­cal shift where main­stream audi­ences are increas­ing­ly out­raged by sex on screen. Have you noticed this from a film­mak­ing perspective?

In dif­fer­ent places around the world, you get dif­fer­ent reac­tions. With every­thing by the way, not just sex. But I always find it very strange the con­ser­vatism with which sex was viewed in cin­e­ma or art in gen­er­al, when you see how accept­able vio­lence is. Why that is, I have no answer. I always felt that it should be equal. Any­thing goes in terms of human expe­ri­ence. Why is sex such a taboo? I real­ly don’t under­stand. So I nev­er thought about it too much. Start­ing out, I used it the way I thought it was appro­pri­ate for each film I made, like any oth­er ele­ment in the film. But I do sense this kind of puri­tanism and con­ser­vatism– more so in cer­tain cul­tures than oth­ers – but then every indi­vid­ual has their own moral compass.

You men­tion chang­ing the per­spec­tive of Poor Things to cen­tre Bel­la – the nov­el ends with Bel­la essen­tial­ly refut­ing every­thing that’s hap­pened in Max’s account. Your ver­sion ends on a much hap­pi­er note.

Yes, the found man­u­script for­mat and Bel­la refut­ing it all works in the nov­el, but in a film, it just didn’t make much sense. And you know… we all loved Bel­la so much. It felt like this time, this char­ac­ter deserves a hap­py ending.

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