it looked better that way; that it looked better without any kind of “enhancement.” Then when we had scenes of people’s faces looking at the fire, we would use the flame of propane bottles in order to control the effect.
What about that great sequence right before the burning with all the lanterns and commotion?
That was in the script actually; Terry had the idea of people carrying lanterns. The problem is that when people carry lanterns in film, they usually light nothing. Because the lanterns are just props, you see. But we wanted the lanterns to really light the scene. So what we had were some battery belts with electricity hooked up to the lanterns which had warm color bulbs in them so that it would give the color temperature of a flame; not white light. What was important was that the people were carrying lanterns that actually did give light; it doesn’t matter whether it was a real flame or electricity. What we wanted was that those lanterns would actually lead and that they would be believeable.
So we had some smokey color on the lanterns and so on; there was a prop man who did some research on it and we did some tests. Later on I used that technique again in Goin’ South on the mine scene. If you have real lanterns with real petrol, they really give so little light that it doesn’t read; the film doesn’t register.
But that was the extent of your lighting in that sequence?
No, I had some fill light, too. We had some machines making smoke and I used some back light in order to make the smoke appear quite strongly; otherwise the smoke wouldn’t have been visible. I had some front light also, but very little. I used the front light in a way that the lanterns that the people were carrying would actually do the lighting job.
What percentage of the film would you say is shot with natural or practical light?
Almost all of it. There was very little lighting. Only the scenes at the end where the jealous husband goes up and finds her in the room; there we had a couple of lamps with lampshades in the room but we did some lighting there also. But the lighting was always justified because it was coming from the direction of the actual light. Also when you had views of the house from the outside at night, of course that was artificial light in the windows. We needed it stronger than it was in reality, but not by much; it was very close to the truth.
When we had day scenes in the house, it normally was window light actually lighting the scene. We had done some tests; some with artificial lighting and some without and Terry liked it better without the lighting and I did too. So the window light would be the light that was doing the job.
And you would prefer to use the natural light anyhow?
Well, it’s always been my thing. I did a lot of that in The Marquis of O but this movie gave me a chance to do it again, even more so. Rohmer, you see, doesn’t like high contrast; he doesn’t like black backgrounds, he wants you to see things. So with Rohmer, although I had the window light doing the job, I had to put some fill light up so that the backgrounds could be seen. On the other hand, Malick liked to leave things the way they were, which, of course, made me very happy.
That would also be responsible for the skin tones; they had a sort of soft, glowing quality to them.
Yes. At the same time, the scenes had to be staged with the consideration that the depth of field was very small. And that’s where a director like Malick is very important for that kind of movie. The lens is wide open so that the actors would be in focus at one point and then go totally out of focus at another point in the same scene. But Malick was very much aware of this; he would stage the scene so that both of the actors would be in the same focal plane.
In Days of Heaven the colors are very saturated; what causes that effect? What were you doing to give it that saturated look; is it because of “the magic hour”?
I suppose so and also because we had to push the film.
How much?
One stop only. Also things vary from lab to lab. That film was developed in a provincial lab in Vancouver called Alpha Cine and they did a very good job. So it gave a different quality to the film. Otherwise, both Days of Heaven and Goin‘ South were shot with the same camera and the same lenses; so was Kramer vs. Kramer, and the results are different there also. It has to do with the light of the place and the quality of the landscape. Canada is not the same as Durango, Mexico, you see.
On Kramer vs. Kramer, can you comment about your aesthetic or photographic approach to the film?
It’s a contemporary movie and it takes place in an Upper East Side apartment, upper-middle class; also there are scenes that take place in skyscrapers with long views of New York. We use restaurants and courthouses as locations too. It’s very banal, it has to do with things of today. So, in that way, the film looks more like Bed and Board or Chloe in the Afternoon, which are the other two contemporary movies I’ve made. It looks a little like The Man Who Loved Women too.
Normally when you make a film about a contemporary subject, people think you should not care too much about the visual side of it. Normally they are done more quickly and more carelessly. There is no set designer, no costumer; you just shoot things as they are. But, in this film, fortunately we have done things with time and research. Robert Benton wanted to come from Piero della Francesca, amazingly enough for a contemporary subject; but that was the painter we studied to begin this movie. We looked at a lot of frescoes and books.
As the film went on, I found that the objects in the film have no connection with Piero della Francesca; we had the colors and we tried to match the colors on the walls and clothes, etc. But, little by little, in the middle of the movie, I began to get interested in David Hockney. Then, just the other day, I was very happy to find out that David Hockney admires Piero della Francesca a lot and he actually considers himself a follower of his. So I was not that far off. I’ve been searching through David Hockney lately because he uses contemporary things like chairs, cactus in a pot, lampshades and windows; things that look like things that are in this movie. That’s my source of inspiration now.
But it’s done very carefully. I have time to do it and I’m never rushed.
By the way, just as a point of reference, the painters we studied for Goin’ South were Maxwell Parrish and Maynard Dixon. In Days of Heaven we used the photography of the period as is indicated in the credits. In Claire’s Knee, we used Gauguin; in Adele H. we used Victorian painting.
So you communicate a great deal through reference to the other visual arts?
Yes, I think using painting is very important because it gives a reference to the director, the set designer, the costume designer, etc. In The Marquis of O, for instance, we used German romantic painting. Sometimes you have movie references. For The Wild Child, our inspiration was Griffith and black-and-white movies of the past.
It’s always very useful to have a reference to give a style to the movie; otherwise the film would just go into so many directions.
What about contemporary American cinematographers? Whose work do you look at; whose work do you admire?
I think we’ve seen a great renewal in America in the last twenty years [in cinematography]. A tremendous renewal because they had come to a dead end. I admire very much Gordon Willis, of course; he’s a great artist. I admire Chapman (Michael), a very good disciple of Willis. Here on the West Coast, there’s Haskell Wexler, who worked a bit on Days of Heaven after I left because I had committed to do a film with Truffaut. Since I was committed to it before, it was Haskell who shot about two weeks of filming after I left. It worked out fabulously. Then of course, the Hungarians
