St Joel’s fire
Empire’s Alex Godfrey reflects on the life and career of JOEL SCHUMACHER, the irrepressible director who died in June
IT’S DIFFICULT TO think of a filmmaker who loved life as much as Joel Schumacher did. It was evident in his work, in his off-screen exploits, and in person. The last time I spoke to him, for Empire’s retrospective on The Lost Boys, was December 2019. He was an absolute delight from the off. “Well, howdy!” he said, 80 years old, from his home in New York’s Greenwich Village. “I’ve got the fireplace roaring and I’m just about to put on Lost Boys, in case I have to make a reference.” For the next 90 minutes or so, he was a blast. He always was.
Schumacher got his education on the streets, smoking and drinking from the age of ten, finding his voice among Greenwich Village’s bohemian community. After a successful career as a costume designer, he began writing and then directing, breaking through with 1985’s Brat-pack drama St. Elmo’s Fire and 1987’s
The Lost Boys, both dripping with adolescent angst, raging with hormones and populated with the prettiest people around. “There was an article in a magazine,” he told me last Christmas, “called, ‘Why do people look like they do in Joel Schumacher movies and don’t look like that again?’ I said, ‘I really see people like that.’”
Schumacher discovered and nurtured actors, casting Kiefer Sutherland (The Lost Boys), Julia Roberts (Flatliners)
and Colin Farrell (Tigerland)
when barely anybody knew who they were. He loved people, and his films, whether they were glossy courtroom affairs (The Client, A Time To Kill), more contained dramas
(Falling Down, Tigerland, Phone Booth) or even his Batman bonanzas, positively vibrated. Sometimes too much, sure — but he was an unrestrained director, in thrall to everything.
He was a riot, but he was gentle, and genuinely gracious. “I tried to serve you as best I could,” he said to me as our conversation — quite possibly his final interview — began winding up. “Because I am 80, remember that. So I’m delving into the honeycomb of my brain.” When we were done, he spent time asking me about myself, giving me incredible encouragement. “Don’t let anyone piss on your dreams,” he said as we drew to a close.
He certainly followed his own advice. Schumacher really did live life to the full. Watch his films again. The vitality speaks for itself.