Breaking the Line

Killer Bill: William Friedkin on Ali G, Spandex Movies and the Fight for Sorcerer

Of late, my favorite interviews seem to be those where I get my ass ever so slightly handed to me by my subject, a category into which my talk with the ever-irascible William Friedkin squarely falls. Killer Joe, which I'll be reviewing when it opens in Philadelphia in a couple of weeks, is the latest step in what's looking like a full-blown late career revival for the director, who went seriously astray with movies like Jade and Rules of Engagement before getting his mojo back with a vengance. Along with 2007's Bug, which like Killer Joe was adapted from a play by Tracy Letts, Killer Joe is a bloody chamber piece, in this case trapping the audience inside a trailer home with a group of morally bankrupt Texans. It's an expert button-pusher, disturbing and hilarious and as live-wire thrilling as anything I've seen since my first viewing last September. That goes for Friedkin as well, a pugnacious conversationalist and clearly a man you want on your side in a fight. More, including his refreshingly blunt take on the effort to free his movie Sorcerer from the clutches of uncaring studios, at the A.V. Club, where he also explains this picture:

Bob Balaban: Narrating Moonrise Kingdom, Translating Truffaut, Waiting for Guffman

I probably should have been disappointed when word came back I wouldn't be able to interview Wes Anderson for Moonrise Kingdom (an excellent movie I'll get around to praising in this space, I hope soon). But I was way too busy turning mental backflips over the fact that I'd get to talk to Bob Balaban, a brilliant actor and not-at-all-bad director who plays the onscreen narrator in Anderson's film. Balaban's great roles are too many to number, or to get to in a 40-minute exchange, but I touched on a good number, including his memorable turn as François Truffaut's translator in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. (I enthusiastically recommend Balaban's diaries from the film, recently republished as Spielberg, Truffaut, and Me.) He's also a valued member of Christopher Guest's repertory company, a prime mover behind Robert Altman's Gosford Park, and the go-to doppelganger for Warren Littlefield. Plus, he sees as much Truffaut in Moonrise Kingdom as I do. Read.

Paul Wiliams: '70s Hitmaker on Writing Songs for Kermit, the Carpenters and Ishtar

The documentary Paul Williams: Still Alive distracts from its intriguing subject with the naggingly persistent intrusions of the filmmaker himself, who more often than not seems to be making the film as a means to buddy up with his musical idol. (It doesn't work.) But if nothing else, it has put Williams, a prolific lyricist whose songs include "We've Only Just Begun," "Rainy Days and Mondays" and "The Rainbow Connection" back in the spotlight, and gave me a chance to talk to him about them for the A.V. Club. It also gave me a chance to pursue what's become an accident campaign to mention the cult classic The Phantom of the Paradise in as many recent articles as possible; see here and here, and stay tuned for my upcoming interview with the guy who played Beef.

 

Metric's Emily Haines: "It Was Always the Dream to Reclaim Radio"

I don't know many critics who rated Metric's 2009 album Fantasies quite as highly as I did, but if you like your pop music unabashed, heavy on sleazy synths and swing-for-the-rafters choruses, it's just about perfect. And while plenty of the popular music I love ends up being, in fact, not all that popular, Fantasies sold nearly half a million copies worldwide, especially impressive considering it was the band's first self-released album. Their new Synthetica doesn't have anything as punch-you-in-the-face awesome as "Help I'm Alive" or "Gold Guns Girls," but it turns out to be a surprisingly effective grower, not to mention a good pretext for me to chat up singer Emily Haines about the band's ongoing quest to make music people listen to without selling their soul in the process. More, including thoughts on sharing a vocal booth with Lou Reed, at eMusic.

"Safety Not Guaranteed": Towards a Grand Unified Theory of Aubrey Plaza

I was in the midst of writing my review of Safety Not Guaranteed, in which Parks and Recreation's Aubrey Plaza plays a magazine intern who tracks down the author of a classified ad seeking a time-travel companion, when I got an email from All Things Considered asking me to contribute to a profile on the actress. (The impetus, apparently, was this 2010 interview, in which, among other things, she talks about her sullen Parks & Rec intern, April Ludgate, as being a kind of generational stand-in.) NPR ended up whittling me down to one inconsequential soundbite — no complaints, it's nice to be asked, etc. — but I did end up give some serious thought to Plaza's screen persona in preparation. Among other things, it struck me as interesting that April's reflexive disdain is almost entirely without malice; she's not a disillusioned idealist so much as an idealist in waiting. (I also ventured that Plaza, who trained with the Upright Citizens Bridage, replaces the improv rule "Yes and..." with "So what?" This stuff is gold, people.) We've seen over the course of several seasons that April is capable of unironic appreciation — of her husband Andy, among other things — but there's a bar that must first be cleared, a defensive barrier breached. There's also a playful element to it, as when Rashida Jones' bubbly Ann, in an attempt to strike up small talk, asks April where she got her haircut, and Plaza deadpans, "Prison." The key, if perhaps slightly-on-the-nose, moment, is when April and Andy take a trip to the Grand Canyon — prompted by a small-town cult's doomsday prophecy — and she stares out at it and says, "I'm trying to find a way to be annoyed at it. But I can't." Frankly, I think Plaza does a good enough job portraying April's inner softie to make such a set piece redundant, but it comes in handy when you want to put a bow on things.

Garbage's Shirley Manson: On Coming Back, Katy Perry, and Terminating Her Solo Career

I talked to Shirley Manson from Garbage. It was pretty great.

"Now You're Going Too Far": In Which the Interviewer Matches Wits With, and Willingly Surrenders to, Eva Marie Saint

Part Two of my ongoing series, "Sam Adams Talks With Actresses of a Certain Age About Working With Alfred Hitchcock and Vincente Minnelli" is my highly enjoyable-in-retrospect, slightly terrifying-at-the-time, interview with the great Eva Marie Saint, who remains as spirited and sharp-witted as ever. The ostensible occasion for our talk was her visit to Philadelphia, where she was to be interviewed on stage by the doubtable Ben Mankiewicz before a screening of North by Northwest. As her time in town was short, I was advised to speak with her beforehand by phone, and told I'd have 15 minutes. That's less time than I'd normally accept, but given that she's Eva Marie effing Saint — of NXNW, On the Waterfront, and many more indelible performances — I could hardly say no.

As it turns out, our time wasn't limited, although I wasn't aware of the fact until I'd rushed headlong through a series of her greatest hits and realized that no one was going to cut us off. So I started our conversation in a slightly agitated state, amplified by the fact that, as noted above, she is Eva Marie effing Saint. And boy, did she pick up on it. This is, after all, a woman who matched wits, and charm, with Cary Grant on screen and at the very least held her own, and no way was she going to let a loosely phrased question or the slightest hint of disingenousness get by her. So when, rather than saying, "Remember that overblown piece of junk The Sandpipers?" I told her I had a soft spot for the film, her response was, "You have a soft spot for that? Have you seen it lately?" If, in reading our "Random Roles" for the A.V. Club, you get a mental picture of her as a tennis racket and me as a somewhat dingy ball, you're on the right track.

Of course, an interviewer would rather have an engaged subject than a polite one, and that she was — delightfully, and, to use her word, "naughtily," so. She didn't let Cary Grant get away with anything either. When I dropped by the hotel where she was doing brief roundtable interviews during her Philadelphia visit, she asked me for my business card, which, living as I do in the post-print era, I don't carry. So, when I broke a rule and asked her to autograph my Blu-ray of North by Northwest, she naturally signed it, "To Sam — ALWAYS bring your card!!"

Shirley Maclaine: Downton Abbey, Hitchcock Slang and Peter Sellers' Aura

And speaking of Bernie, it gave me an excuse, I mean opportunity, to talk to Shirley Maclaine, who plays a wealthy, mean-spirited widow opposite Jack Black's guileless mortician. Even better, the A.V. Club's "Random Roles" format let me quiz her on her past triumphs, including the beyond-brilliant Some Came Running, as well as her experiences with Alfred Hitchcock, Billy Wilder, Frank Tashlin, Jerry Lewis. Did I ask about her role on the upcoming third season of Downton Abbey? I sure did.

Bernie's Jack Black: Tenacious D., Mr. Show and His "Fumbly Bumbly" Style

Lots to catch up on, so we'll make this quick. I talked to Jack Black about Bernie, the Richard Linklater movie in which he plays a soft-spoken East Texas mortician who winds up shooting an elderly widow in the back. (It's based on a true story, so shut up with the spoiler talk.) He's more subdued in person than his bigfoot persona might lead you to expect, and especially so in this case since he was jetlagged and sick, apologetically offering an elbow bump in lieu of a handshake. Even so, he was great fun to talk to, especially with regard to costar Shirley Maclaine and his memorable guest spots on Mr. Show.

 

Isabella Rossellini: "My Agent Said, 'If You Work With Guy Maddin, I'll Slit My Wrists.'"

I'm well aware that making Grantland's Humblebrag honor roll is a dubious honor at best, but when Isabella Rossellini's name pops up on the CallerID, it's hard to suppress the urge to crow. (Even my wife, who's long since used to interview subjects calling the house, was moved to a "Shut up!" when I told her about it.) But enough about me — read the article instead. It's one of the A.V. Club's "Random Roles," which allowed me to talk not only about Rossellini's two new movies, Late Bloomers and Keyhole, but to go all the way back to Blue Velvet and Tough Guys Don't Dance, as well as her utterly beguiling tribute to her father, the great Roberto Rossellini, in My Dad Is 100 Years Old.