Weight in measure

OA: This involves what we've been talking about, in that . . . no, I don't believe in storytelling; yes, I believe you can tell stories. I do believe fiction can describe the world. What is so powerful in filmmaking is its ability to represent true emotions. For me the most precious thing is when something real happens on a character's face. It's just beautiful - I suppose it's the one reason I make films. It's also why I have a specific relationship to re-creating reality through actors, because acting can be extremely fake. When you have snappy dialogue - it's horrible. No one's like that!

I'm interested in the way everyone has a complex relationship to language. For example, I'm talking about this film, but am I telling the truth? Am I lying to myself? I know that when I'm making a movie, things are very clear. But can words capture those feelings? I always think about this when I'm working with actors because I know when I want a specific emotion I won't use the word for it, but just pray the actor understands.

KJ: At a panel discussion after one screening of Late August, Early September, you remarked that you allowed the actors a lot of freedom, and Mathieu Amalric [who plays Gabriel] responded that on the other hand the writing was so precise he found everything he needed in the screenplay. This reminded me of John Cassavetes's films, which many thought were improvised even when they were carefully scripted.

OA: Cassavetes was the greatest underrated playwright of modern history, and one of those rare figures, like Ingmar Bergman or Rainer Fassbinder, who are at once great playwrights and great filmmakers - half and half. He completely invented a style of filmmaking just to fit his writing. This circulation between writing and cinema is quite powerful, and ultimately it's the one thing I believe in. You must love writing dialogue and have a sensual love of words, because it's the only way you can have a grasp on human emotions and describe them accurately.

You have to keep that pleasure and concentration throughout the whole process of making the film, and that means giving the actors as much freedom as you can with the words. I always think the actors know more than I about the character, and if they change the words or the pace. there will be something more - it will sound true. I love David Mamet's work, but he tries to retain in his writing all the imperfections of language, things that should happen between the actors.

KJ: I was struck by the way you deployed the Joseph Beuys drawing. It was interesting - after I first saw the film I remembered the drawing as this golden note glowing against a pervasive blue tone, then I saw the film again and realized the Beuys was brownish and that I'd been confusing it with the yellow flowers Vera brings to Adrien shortly after we first glimpse the drawing. Are the two objects intended to echo one another?

OA: Vera, the flowers, and the Beuys drawing are really one and the same thing to me. They express the same idea, in that they're about the lightness you look for in art. I really admire the work of Beuys, the way his work is poised between weight and lightness. I think the goal of all art is to achieve that kind of easiness and lightness. It's hard to explain because it's a little complicated, but I'm sure this grew out of meeting Francesco Clemente, who is a person and artist I admire very much, and it's through speaking with him that I came to these ideas about how you can find grace in art.