"The Viewer Should Go into the Labyrinth of the Story" - interview with László Nemes
'Son of Saul' had a very powerful visual concept. Have you also established any kind of rule for 'Sunset' regarding visual realization?
There was no rule, and yet we had an overall strategy: the viewer should go into the labyrinth of the story with the protagonist, in order to feel the disorientation and defencelessness the protagonist experiences. This subjective aspect is what connects 'Sunset' with 'Son of Saul'.
The movie rambles without stopping, something is happening at every moment, whereas the era preceding First World War that is depicted in the movie it was supposedly slower than the present one. What did you want to convey with this tempo?
Viewers are accustomed to certain dramaturgical effects and narratives that have already became rigid standardized forms. That is exactly why adventurousness, which is the essence of cinema, vanishes from the movies. For me it is very important that the viewer becomes a part of the film, having an inner - almost sensual - experience of it, not just watching a story as an outsider. The mechanism of 'Sunset' is certainly unconventional, its dramaturgy does not operate in a classical way.
You mentioned earlier that costume drama as a genre could be renewed, and this is what you aim for. Was it difficult to break away from the traditional aesthetic, romantic approach?
The process of trying to find a new approach was a great challenge. Creating postcard images in a period drama is not my style. Recently, Andrea Arnold, in 'Wuthering Heights', also tried new approaches while making a period piece. So did Kelly Reichardt in 'Meek's Cutoff'. In a way, 'Sunset' breaks conventions in an even more unmerciful way.
It was exciting to find the protagonist of the film: you auditioned more than 10,000 candidates, before eventually choosing Juli Jakab, who played the most important female role in 'Son of Saul'. In 'Sunset', did you manage to bring out that secret and suggestive energy you see in her?
An actress is like a chameleon, always taking on new forms. Juli is not like that at all. Her energy appears in completely different dimensions, and her layers are richer and more unexpected than the traditional actingbased type. Her presence is made interesting by her fragility and vulnerability. This is a completely different kind of acting, I've seen something similar to this only in Bresson's movies so far. In my opinion, integrity and unexploredness move the viewer in unforeseen ways.
The protagonist is already upset at the beginning of the movie, and as the story progresses, this gets worse. Do you think that Juli as an amateur had a harder time to attain these states of mind compared to a trained actress?
For me, whether someone is an amateur or a professional is not so relevant. By shrinking movie phraseology, acting became even more uniform. In a Kubrick, Antonioni or Bergman movie, an actor functions in completely different ways, certainly different from the average film today. The performance of actors cannot be measured on a universal scale. Every director tries to develop his own scale and his own language. Acting does not have exact measures as the ones you would find in a ship log. Who defines the spectrum on which actors play? Juli did not need protection—we only had to go with her down her own path, into her own labyrinth, and try to reveal the layers, pull the curtains away.
You shot the movie's severalminute-long opening scene on the very first day of shooting. Why was it so important to get started with this?
That scene is a birth in all aspects: the birth of an actress, the birth of Irisz. It was important that the beginning of Jakab Juli on the set is also the beginning of the film. This scene helped get the protagonist, the director, the actors, and the crew on the same wavelength. To make it clear to everyone that we are doing this kind of film, which works in a completely different coordinate system than a regular period piece.
This film is much larger than 'Son of Saul', regarding its budget, the number of actors, extras, and sets. Without forgetting that because of 'Son of Saul', everybody has tremendous expectations. How could you stay cold-blooded in this tense situation?
It was a rough ride. Every day, new difficulties arose of all sorts, and there were new problems due to a big machinery that comprised set, horses, coaches, lots of extras, dust, and many times highly complicated shots. However, the difficulties gave me strength. I was surrounded by smart and reliable people, and we understood each other's language—, after all, this is the key. And I banished expectations from my mind during the process of making this film.
You mentioned that you chose your film to take place in the 1910s, because a sophisticated civilized Europe was at its height, whereas the fall of this world was already in the making, as alluded to in the title of the film. Why do you think this era was idyllic?
Before First World War, technological and cultural development has given rise to a great brought a promise and civilization has achieved a high degree of sophistication, as symbolized in the film by the world of the hat store. If you take the pictures of Budapest at that time and look at the richness of details, you see the craftmanship, the attention and the quality that they tried to build. It is interesting, intriguing and mysterious to see how fast this civilization of Europe suddenly turned to self-destruction, destroying in two world wars the entire continent and the humanistic principle it was built on. Before First World War, the inhumanity that the 20th century would produce—systematic genocide, modern political dictatorships, and putting technology into the service of these devastating forces—was completely invisible. Under a thin layer of civilization, there is primitive self-destruction. These forces certainly worked at once. It is a big question – and certainly relevant for our societies - whether it could have been different.
To what extent everyday men, who are also seen in your film, are responsible for the fall of civilization?
This region, Central Europe, which has so defined the history of 20th century Europe was also the birthplace of great thoughts: nationalism, psychology, great literary trends, political ideas and regimes... There was something here, in this configuration, with a cultural sophistication, that could have worked out in a completely different way. Yet it began to destroy itself. Today we still have a boundless faith in technology and we feel invincible. But we also feel—as people felt in the first years of the century, a hundred years ago—that something is going to happen.
One of the main centers of the film is the Leiter hat store. We learn how people spent their time back then - for example, they would choose a custom-made hat months in advance. Do you regard this idyllic, too?
There is really something that for us, seems decadent. The kind of hat people wore immediately disclosed their places in society. It was a system of codes and appearance. Those hats show the sophistication of the era, along with the idealism and optimism that are characteristic of the times.
In 'Sunset', there are surprisingly straightforward references to movies you mentioned earlier to have had an impact on you. Did you have a hard time to decide whether to hide them better or not?
I think references and inspirations are important part of the process. Certain movies, like 'Sunrise' from Murnau, or 'Blue Velvet' from Lynch, were inspirations for me.
'Sunset' is to be launched in one the most prestigious Venetian competition programme in history. How do you feel about it?
This film could not have been launched in a better place and in a better context, than in Venice. We are blessed things worked out this way.
Ferenc Varga