‘First Reformed’ brings Schrader full circle
Paul Schrader wrote “Taxi Driver.” Fair or unfair — and it seems pretty fair — that’s how almost any story about Schrader must begin. It is one of the greatest movies ever made, after all. He also wrote or co-wrote screenplays for “Raging Bull,” “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “American Gigolo,” among others (he’s credited with 24 screenplays).
A former film critic and writer of scholarly texts, Schrader is also, of course, a director, whose work includes the controversial “Hardcore” as well as a remake of “Cat People,” “Light of Day” and “Affliction.”
His latest film, “First Reformed,” is one of his best. Ethan Hawke stars as a minister who suffers a crisis of faith (if he had faith to begin with). Schrader talked about making the film, and his career, recently. (Note: A lot of this will make more sense after you’ve seen the movie, so revisit it after you’ve watched it — which you definitely should do.)
Question: Let’s start at the end, which of course we can’t give away. Let’s just say it’s not exactly definite what is happening or whether it’s even real.
Answer: Yeah, I left room for various interpretations of the ending. And they’re all fine with me. I, in fact, don’t know which one I prefer, and that was a choice.
Q: When you’re writing something open-ended like that, how do you leave it? How do you walk away?
A: Well, when the movie ends, you know, the characters are a work of fiction and do not exist beyond the work of fiction. They don’t have lives that continue on. They only exist for brief, imaginary periods. It’s very tempting for people to imagine a life for Scarlett O’Hara outside of “Gone with the Wind.” We have no evidence of such a life, and perhaps there isn’t. It’s outside the purview. You created this imaginary world, and you put up a fence around you. You should respect that fence.
Q: Do you think Ethan Hawke’s character is a man of faith?
A: Absolutely. Maybe too much. The more you need faith sometimes, the harder it is to find it. There’s a lot of people who have a very simplistic faith, and they don’t have to work hard at all. And there are other people who spend every moment trying to make that contact.
Q: Hawke’s performance is fantastic. Low-key isn’t quite the right description, but he definitely underplays it, to perfection.
A: Well, the first time I met with Ethan, I told him, “This is a lean-back performance. This is a recessive performance. So when you sense someone being interested in what you’re saying, then move away. Just keep receding, and challenge the viewer to approach you.” Ethan’s own personality is a little bubblier, a bit effusive. So he just switches gears and goes into reverse.
Q: It seems like that takes a lot of confidence from actors. They’re used to trying to get people’s attention, not deflect it.
A: Yes, yes. And I guess he did.
Q: The setting, in rural New York in the dead of winter, is so important. It certainly looked cold.
A: Thankfully, we had a relatively mild winter. We only had snow in one scene. If it was last winter, it was like snow, not snow, snow, not snow. That’s hell on continuity. It was a relatively mild winter. I don’t think it got below zero more than a day or two.
Q: But that look — it’s cold and it’s stark, but there’s a beauty to that.
A: Well, you know, bare branches are so much more beautiful than green ones.
Q: Is Hawke’s character’s church a real church?
A: Yes, it’s an Episcopalian church. It is, in fact, on the edge of Queens and Long Island City, but it’s on top of a hill, so when you’re in the churchyard, you don’t see New York.
Q: I loved the juxtaposition of the two churches, his and the giant one overseen by the minister played by Cedric the Entertainer. But why would you go to the mega-church if you could go to the old, small one?
A: Well, it’s two different modes of experience you have. The devotional church, which is based on quiet and meditation and introspection, and then you have the entertainment-based church, which is based on community and song and joint participation. I’m not going to say one is better than the other, because there are plenty of Christians in The “First Reformed” team: Ethan Hawke (from left), Amanda Seyfried and director Paul Schrader. both. But my preference is always for the quiet.
Q: Maybe I’m cynical, but it seems like the chance for hypocrisy and a kind of fake faith is so much greater in the bigger one.
A: Well absolutely, because they have a huge nut. They have ongoing expenses. They have rules, and they have wardrobe, and they have dues, and all of a sudden, you realize you’re talking about an organization here. You’re not talking about a collective of believers.
Q: And yet the minister is obviously a man of faith, as well.
A: Oh yeah, well that’s why I cast Cedric. I didn’t want him to be pigeonholed as some kind of bigot. We do have this predisposition to put ministers of large congregations into a kind of stereotype straightjacket, and by casting (him), I was able to get a ways away from that.
Q: You’ve been at this a while. How does starting a project, one you’re writing, differ now from then?
A: That part doesn’t differ. I started writing on spec, and I’m still writing on spec . ... You write on spec, and then you put it together, and you find an actor, and you find a little bit of money here, and you find some money there. It keeps you in control, because you are not only the creator, you’re also the entrepreneurial force behind it. That’s the upside of the independent-film tradition. The downside, of course, is that you often are scraping along on very tight budgets.
Q: There seems to be room for giant blockbusters and tiny little films. The in-between, which was the sweet spot for so long, seems to have disappeared.
A: That’s gone. That’s gone. The middle-range dramas have migrated to television. They’re no longer in theaters. So the theaters show special-event movies, and they show family movies, and they show cinema-club movies.
Q: Well you got this one made. A: (Laughs) That I did.
Q: It’s challenging to tell people what it’s like. This preacher has a crisis of faith and he tries to work it out. But it’s a lot more intense than that.
A: I’ve seen this film with a variety of audiences, European, South American, American, young, old, and it seems to have a very similar impact. People get caught up in it. It’s kind of surprising to me, because it is very intellectual and a bit esoteric, but it seems to have found a way to communicate.
Q: Is the story we see on screen the one you wanted to tell?
A: I had final cut. It’s exactly what I meant to do. Within, of course, certain financial restraints. There are things I couldn’t do because I couldn’t afford (to), like in terms of extras and other things. But it is exactly the movie it should be.
Q: Typically a filmmaker will say they could have done more with more money. I guess everything works that way.
A: Yeah, but more money is not necessarily a good thing. You get to play with those huge, expensive toys, and a cost comes with that. When you’re working on low-budget side, you are free because you’re financially responsible. You’re doing something that’s financially responsible, and you don’t have to give a damn about anything anybody thinks, because you’re being a good boy. When you start spending all that money, you start second-guessing yourself, too.
Q: You wrote “Taxi Driver.” You were around for some of the better times for moviemaking, or at least they seemed so from the outside. It seemed like the studios were more willing to take a chance then. Is that really true?
A: Well, the studios are more or less over now. That day has run its course. They’re folding up their tents. So it’s a very different landscape.
Q: What was it like to be a part of that, when it was working?
A: Oh, there was a grand moment, right around ’68, ’69, when studios were extremely insecure and didn’t know what the young generation wanted. And a whole group of us entered into the industry at that time, just because of our bravado and our confidence. It was a wonderful moment. I don’t know if I could get into the industry today. But that was a three or four year gap, where a whole group of kids came in. And then, of course, the gap closed as soon as the studios figured out how to do market research.
Now we have a similar opening for low-budget films. Anybody can make a film. But it’s very hard to make a living at it now.
Q: Yeah, you can make it, but how do you get it in front of people?
A: Yeah, how do you monetize it? The truth is, movies don’t monetize it.
Q: What were the circumstances that so many like-minded filmmakers came together at one time?
A: Never underestimate the role of luck. Calculation and talent are nice, but it sure helps when you have some luck.
Q: You’ve said that if “First Reformed” is your last movie, you’re OK with that.
A: There’s a real sense of completion and gratification in completing the circle that this film represents. I’m not ashamed to acknowledge that.
Q: How so?
A: Well, when I started out, I wrote a book about spiritual style in film (“Transcendental Style in Film: Ozu, Bresson, Dreyer”). And then I wrote a movie about a taxi driver. And now, 50 years later, those threads are co-mingled.
Q: Well, I hope you’re not done. A: I hope so, too. Who can tell?