NEW YORK, NY.- Alex Garland knows that calling his new film Men is a provocative act. Its quite interesting that such a short, simple word can be so freighted with massive and entirely subjective meanings, he said.
As a writer and filmmaker, Garland is drawn to subjects that demand discussion: In the twisty robot parable Ex Machina (2015) and the Natalie Portman sci-fi drama Annihilation (2018), he favored a bold, stark setup that sat at the intersection of a cultural flash point. The tricky Men operates in a similar vein, casting Jessie Buckley as Harper, a woman coming to terms with her husbands death and the blame he leveled at her in his final moments.
Harper rents a British country house to work through her trauma, but the men of the local village (all of whom are played by actor Rory Kinnear) insinuate, belittle and wheedle her, too. One of them even stalks her, appearing naked in her front yard, but whom can Harper register a complaint with when all of the men around her or all men, period are, deep down, the same guy?
I spoke to Garland on a video call this month while he was in the middle of directing Civil War, an A24 action epic starring Kirsten Dunst. Garland, who is 51 and British, sounded a bit weary. Before making Ex Machina, he only wrote screenplays for other filmmakers to direct including 28 Days Later, Sunshine and Dredd. The more we spoke, the more he questioned whether he wanted to continue directing at all.
Im tired of feeling like a fraud, he told me. Ive got so many other reasons to feel like a fraud, I dont need to add to it in a structural way with my job.
Here are edited excerpts from our conversation.
Q: Do you read reviews of your films?
A: Sometimes, because therell be a set of websites that I go to, and then I will see with a horrible, sinking feeling that theyve reviewed the thing I worked on, and Id have to be a monk to not read it. I broadly try to keep away from them. The first thing I did in any kind of public forum was write a book, The Beach. I was 26 or 27 when it came out and read everything, and I realized that I could get incredibly wounded, that it was really personal. It was a slow stepping back, because its now 25 years that Ive been doing this. I think Im probably stepping back from all sorts of different things.
Q: What else are you stepping back from?
A: I think it is partly a function of getting older: I know less and less people, I have a smaller and smaller circle, and I go out less and less. Everythings just getting progressively quieter and smaller, Id say.
Q: Your films kind of reflect that attitude. They have very small casts and very circumscribed locations. There isnt much clutter.
A: That would definitely be fair to say. I find myself interested in less and less things, but the things Im interested in, I might go deeper and deeper into. And also, Im not really a film director, Im a writer who directs out of convenience.
Q: You didnt expect to have this career as a director?
A: It wasnt that I had any great urge to direct, it was more born out of anxiety based on writing: Id find it very agitating if something [in the film] felt totally wrong to me, or something that I felt was important was absent. But I have been thinking that after the film Im directing at the moment, I should stop and go back to just writing. That might be part of the reversing away from the world its time to get away from it, I think. Im not temperamentally suited to being a film director.
Q: Why is that?
A: It would be more honest, probably, to say I dont particularly enjoy it. Its something I have to force myself to do. Its incredibly sociable, because you are with a large group of people the whole time and, in my case, having to do a lot of role play. At the end of the day, you feel a bit fraudulent and exhausted.
Q: Because you have to become sort of a showman?
A: Yeah, exactly. I will find myself standing in front of a group of extras saying, All right, so whats happening now is dah, dah, dah, raising my voice and being encouraging and intense. It just feels incredibly performative. Whenever I watch a chat show, and I see the host engaging in witty banter with a guest, I look at them and think, What if theyre feeling really depressed right now? Heres the requirement for a quip, heres the requirement to be interested in something youre not interested in, and inside youre feeling incredibly bleak and existential. It always makes me shudder I almost cant watch those programs because I feel that so strongly. And my version of being a talk-show host is standing on a film set.
Q: Still, I would think that youd want to be on set to supervise the physical realization of your worlds and themes.
A: Oh yeah, but thats the limit of it. There are many directors where the set is where they need and want to be more than any other place, and as soon as the film is finished, theyre scheming to be in that space again with as short a delay as possible. And thats just not me.
Q: Ive seen some directors reach old age, and its as if they have to keep directing in order to live. Sometimes, theres another film placed in front of them even before theyve finished the last one.
A: No question. Immediately, as you said that, I had a Rolodex of names appear in my head, and I was thinking, Thats exactly who hes talking about. But theres also another kind of director who suddenly stops, people like Peter Weir and Alan Parker. They must have been walking away from something, and maybe they just tired of it.
Q: Is this the shortest period of time between you being on two movie sets? You shot Men in the middle of last year and started Civil War not long after.
A: Yeah, the last day of postproduction on Men was 48 hours before the first day of principal photography on Civil War. Literally, it was a Saturday and a Monday.
Q: I remember speaking to Kirsten Dunst after she was cast in Civil War, and she said she was excited that she finally got to play the boy part in a movie.
A: I hope she feels happy with the process, but you never know. I dont think its just me that finds it difficult. Film sets are strange places. Theyre Calvinist, punishing spaces of abstinence. People work really, really hard like drop-down exhausted hard and you see it on everyones faces at the end of the day. There can be elements of addiction in that, but its like, Ive got an alarm bell in my head ringing the whole time, thinking, You need to stop doing this.
Q: Was Men that arduous to make?
A: Men was really difficult. The subject matter gets into you, and you have to live with it, but it was also difficult on a technical level. We had a very short shoot, and we were trying to get a lot done very quickly. I often worried about Rory particularly, because the last few weeks of the shoot, hes naked in the middle of the night, and its freezing cold. An enormous amount of filmmaking is actually logistics, and its like a managerial job. How do you execute this number of things within this many hours? Literally, how do you do it?
Q: Its the sort of movie that will leave people arguing about its intent, and about what its trying to say. You once told me that with Ex Machina, you wanted at least 50% of the film to be subject to the viewers interpretation.
A: Over the years, I have been consciously putting more and more into the hands of the viewer. Theres probably another element to it, too, if Im honest, which is that its making the viewer complicit. This is another reason to pull back, because theres a part of me which is really subversive and aggressive and is kind of [messing] with people. At times, I felt with Men that Ive gone so far that its borderline delinquent.
Q: What kind of reaction have you gotten to the film?
A: Ive got good friends who I really respect who Ive shown Men to, and their convinced interpretation I know what this film is saying, its saying this is 180 degrees different from what I thought it was.
Q: When that happens, does that feel like a successful experiment?
A: No.
Q: No?
A: No, it just feels inevitable. When were watching a film, we have these responses that on a rational level, we know are subjective, but we treat them as if theyre objective, and thats just the way it is. I have such distrust in my own responses and other peoples responses as being reliable they could vary on a day-by-day level. So when I offer something up, I have no expectation that everybodys going to agree on it. I have a full expectation that people will disagree, and I see it primarily as a reflection on them.
Q: What are some of the things your friends said about it?
Whos the protagonist? Is this about what a woman thinks, or is it about what a man thinks? Its peoples certainty that I find strangest: This means this, this means that. I find myself getting less and less certain about everything.
Q: Even your own work?
A: Oh, I have no certainty about that. Thats just a bunch of compulsions.
This article originally appeared in
The New York Times.