First of all, why don't you introduce yourself to those of us who
might not already know you?
My professional name and my real name are different. I mean, yeah, I've
always been Russ (Russell to my family and Katelyn Lewis, my girlfriend)
but you won't find my name in the phone book under Welsh. It's a
pseudonym. And for very good reason. See, I like controversial subject
matter. I'm not one to shy away from what would normally sicken or offend
the average person. I often challenge established norms, even going so far
as to outrightly insult certain groups. I've been accused of sexism, among
other things, a few times in the past. I don't do it out of spite. On the
contrary, I believe everyone should have their own opinion about
everything. Politically correct or not. It's just that, since I was young,
I've been finding more and more that perception is based on rumor and
popularity. Marilyn Manson is NOT a Satanist. The many times I've seen him
in interviews, he's proven to be an intelligent man. Same with Chuck
Palahniuk, my favorite author (not just because of his novel Fight Club,
but because his demented sense of humor is something I gravitate towards).
Palahniuk always writes these disturbing tales, which are more often than
not mistaken as nihilistic. I find them funny. But, in a world where
closed-mindedness takes presence over acceptance, I pride myself on
rocking the boat. Shock only exists to better current circumstances. When Saw
first came out, it messed with people. Soon enough, we were all
desensitized to that kind of violence. How many people followed the
apparent example left by that franchise? I don't remember anything being
on the news about a real Jigsaw Killer. I'm a firm believer that art and
entertainment does not promote real violence. It doesn't even cause it.
That's why nothing is beneath me. If it exists, I will write about it. I
will direct a movie about it. If you don't like the direction I've taken,
why should I care? I make films for myself and most of the time I don't
see a line not worth crossing. At the moment, you've got two
shorts upcoming, right, This Time and Pale Horse ... let's
start with This Time
- do talk about that one for a bit! I'd
been working primarily on assessments for film school when I came up with
the premise for what would become my first short film outside of
university, This Time. It's a throwback/homage to silent era cinema
and was heavily inspired by comedy legends of the time. For a long time, I
wanted to do a good old-fashioned ghost story but I'm not really a fan of
horror. Not what it's become anyway. I do enjoy sitting in the dark with a
glass of ice cold rum and coke, and watching Kubrick's adaptation of The
Shining or Lynch's Eraserhead. Lynch is my go-to-guy for
scary (albeit unconventional) movies and he's one of my favorite
filmmakers. This Time
was never going to be a
horror/thriller. And I never wanted it to be. I wrote it as an ethereal
romance about the eternal love between soul mates. The Artist, the
2011 Academy Award-winning silent film, proved that the genre wasn't dead.
Give it to the French for proving that! I figured I'd try to create one
myself. This Time was a 3-month pre-production schedule for a
single night of shooting and approximately 4 more months of editing and
music. The location was the most difficult place to find and, in
retrospect, we could have shot in a much better place had we a larger
budget. I paid for everything myself and the budget ended up being rather
meager. Unfortunately, it was the first short film I made outside of
university so it was purely experimental. Everyone did their best with the
project and it did come out as close to the idea in my head as it could.
But, due largely to inexperience, the short failed more than it succeeded.
This Time ended up becoming a lesson in what not to do. Those that
have seen it have mixed-to-negative reactions. I've received unanimous
praise for the unique storytelling and creative direction but most viewers
have expressed difficulty in understanding the premise or they find it
boring. Because of this, I was disheartened by the experience. But it's
all about learning what works and what doesn't. I'm no longer negatively
affected by it. It forces me to push myself harder and faster with all of
my subsequent pictures. This Time
will continue being
exhibited in national film festivals throughout the rest of this year into
2014. Pale Horse
- what can you tell us about that one?
I spent the next few months trying to create a serial killer movie that
dealt primarily with character depth instead of horrific events. I
contacted an actor/friend named Raymond Massey because I had worked with
him before, when I was in university. We spoke about the initial ideas I
had and where I wanted to take the project, and Raymond expressed interest
in being a part of the film. This was when I was considering the
anti-hero/protagonist as much older than he ended up being in the final
product. Raymond did play a character in Pale Horse but he did not
end up portraying the lead character. Around this same time, I was trying
to develop a vampire film that harkened back to Hammer
Films. I ended up combining the two ideas and Pale Horse
was born... as "Flesh & Blood". I revealed the
treatment to this new project to a few people, trying to garner buzz. A
few people were deterred by it being a vampire film. Their skepticism was
more of a reaction to the way vampire fiction was being treated. The fear,
for the most part, had become a joke. But I wrote the screenplay
nonetheless, transforming it into a disturbing gothic horror/docudrama
about a man who believed he needed to feed on his victims' blood in order
to appease his imaginary friend's insatiable hunger. Andrew Barnes, who
has been in talks to play an important role in My Reprisal (Shea
Moir's directorial debut feature, which I co-wrote over a year of
sleepless nights [Shea Nathaniel
Moir interview - click here]), won the lead role of Adam
because I changed the character details to a more fresh-faced
schizophrenic. Raymond is still one of my favorite actors to work with
and, thus far, he is the only person I have approached to play a leading
role in my own directorial feature debut Get Some! Mid-way through
shooting, the title was changed from "Flesh & Blood" to
"Pale Horse". The new title refers to two things:
1) Johnny Cash's song "When the Man Comes Around".
2) The biblical quote, in Revelation, about the apocalypse.
Pale Horse was far more ambitious than I initially intended and, at
the beginning, it terrified me. On one hand, I'd just come from a failed
attempt at creating a silent film. On the other, I had this amazing script
that totally recreated the genre. A few people came on board based
primarily on the script, which was exciting. Nevertheless, I didn't
believe in Pale Horse enough to produce it myself. And that is one
mistake I wish I'd never made. After a year-long pre-production and 3
months of on-again-off-again shooting, Pale Horse is nearing
completion. It has a significantly larger budget than This Time
and
my two producers (Shea Moir and Darwin Brooks) demanded perfection. Some
days I look at it and I'm angry, other days I'm excited. The edited
footage has been met with acclaim from test audiences. When the
post-production stage has ended, I am hoping to release Pale Horse
to horror/fantasy festivals and maybe even Sundance in 2014. Both films were produced by Shea
Nathaniel Moir [Shea Nathaniel
Moir interview - click here], a frequent partner in crime of
yours. So what was your collaboration like, and how did you hook up in the
first place?
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Shea Moir and I met in a screenwriting class lectured by author Stavros
Halvatzis. But that wasn't until a couple months after the classes began.
For a while, I was the only one in the class that knew how to manipulate
the written word. Besides, of course, Stavros. Unfortunately, my talent
had not been properly developed and I was like a blind man without a
guiding stick. Strangely, I originally had grave doubts about attending
these classes because the first two lessons seemed pretentious. I already
knew where to get inspiration from and that was the subject we first
"learned" about. I didn't want to hear it. But I cared about
passing university at the time so I reluctantly went. And I'm very glad I
did. After the second or third lesson, Stavros became increasingly more
informative. I owe a lot to him for focusing my raw talent into something
much more powerful. It's like that saying "give a man a fish and feed
him for a day, teach a man to fish and feed him for a lifetime".
Stavros told me a lot about Shea and I later discovered he had told Shea a
lot about me. Eventually, Shea came out of his shell and started talking
to me and a small group of animation students I was hanging out with about
an idea he had. It was violent and disturbing, and I loved it. I was a
little envious that I hadn't thought of it first. The idea became My
Reprisal. But, in the beginning, it was darkness without light. Anyone
who read it could see it was a story that needed to be told. However, it
wasn't until Shea asked me to help him rewrite it that it went from good
to great. That sounds vain, I know. I'm not saying it wouldn't be great
without me. It could have been. I just happened to be the one who
introduced a rich vein of humor. Shea and I worked together to create a
brightness to counter the brutality. And it worked magnificently. The
screenplay was forwarded to Darwin, who expressed interest in producing
it. Since then, Shea and I have worked on each other's projects in various
roles. We challenge each other to create the best damn films we can. Even
when one of us works on something without the other, Shea and I always
consult each other. What got you into filmmaking to begin with,
and did you receive any formal training on the subject? The
first movie I remember ever seeing in cinema was Disney's Aladdin
with my dad and my stepmom. I was disappointed going in because Super
Mario Brothers and Dennis the Menace were both out at the same
time. And, stupidly, I wanted to see either one more but the showing times
didn't coincide with when we arrived. Don't ask me how I remember that. I
have no idea. But, as the lights went down and the screen came to life,
something grabbed me. It was like an endorphin overdose, falling in love
for the first time. When I think about it, it's strange that I went into
film instead of animation. I mean, I know how to draw and cartoons
(whether on TV or at the movies) have been a huge influence on me. Comic
books too, actually. Jhonen Vasquez and Dave McKean feature prolifically
in my life as an artist, so far as to consult their works when I write up
my shot lists. I didn't really visit my dad very much as a child
or even as a teenager. But he is definitely one of two people that started
me down the path toward filmmaking. The other person was my dearly
departed nana, who passed in October 2005. Same year my first short film, Feb,
was nominated for best drama. I spent at least 1/3 of my childhood at my
nana's house and, basically, she was a second mother. Where my dad used to
buy me comics, my nana got me stacks of paper and pens to draw or write
with. She also took me to the movies a lot because she got great discounts
and liked to keep me happy. We must've seen at least 50 movies together
before she got sick. And she was the only person I respected enough to ask
whether I should follow my filmic passion. Her permission is one of the
few reasons I never gave up. Even though there were times I wish I could
settle down and start a family, like SO many of my friends from school
did. My obsession with becoming a filmmaker would either kill me
or get me where I needed to be. Thankfully, it ended up being the latter.
In my adult years, I've had more to do with my father. He paid for me to
get into film school after I was accepted. And I'm eternally grateful for
that. It ended up being the place where everything changed for the
better. The first year I went, I discovered a whole new world of
films. I saw Battle Royale
and The Science of Sleep for the first time. Both are totally
different in genre and approach but I was equally blown away. Because The
Science of Sleep is the kind of movie I strived to make, I decided to
find out more about the director (Michel Gondry). I didn't realize he was
the same guy who made Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, one of
my all-time favorite Jim Carrey movies. Gondry quickly became one of my
favorite directors. Ever since, I've found the more offbeat a director is,
the more I like them. I do have a soft spot for some of Spielberg's works.
I'm also a sucker for James
Bond-movies thanks to my dad taking
me to GoldenEye when I was 10. But, for the most part, I like
movies that aren't afraid to push boundaries and do something new. Charlie
Kaufman is my favorite screenwriter because of this. A Clockwork Orange,
Natural Born Killers, Blue Velvet, Bad Boy Bubby, Taxi
Driver and Goodfellas are huge inspirations because
they are in a league of their own. As are Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, and
Batman Returns. I don't
really like much of Burton's latest stuff, although I did enjoy the first
5 or 10 minutes of Dark Shadows. Over time, my influences have
changed dramatically. More recently, Sam Mendes and Darren Aronofsky have
snaked their way into my Top 10. Road to Perdition and The Fountain both showed me how powerful silence could be. I
have shamelessly tried and failed at editing like Requiem for a
Dream. It really doesn't suit my personal style. The one film that
doesn't influence me but is my number one favorite is David Fincher's
adaptation of Fight Club. Normally I don't have favorite films
that don't inspire or influence me. Fight Club is enjoyable
and I've seen it many times before. It was even the subject I chose for
analysis when I did film criticism. But it's totally different to how I
make my own movies and I can't see that changing in the immediate future. Any
future projects you'd like to talk about?
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Quantum Light
Pictures (the production company I am affiliated with) is experiencing a
busy period at the moment. As well as getting pick-up shots and completing
editing for Pale Horse, I am working as 1st Assistant Director
on Hyde Hill (written and directed by Shea Moir). Shea and I
are also in pre-production with producer Rachael Moore on Taste of
Poverty, a family friendly drama about the power of children's
imagination. Taste of
Poverty was an idea born from Rachael
and her children, and scripted by Shea. I'll be sharing the director's
seat with Shea. The idea of a directorial collaboration is something we've
both contemplated for a while now but haven't found the right project
until now. I am also at the beginning of pre-production on a script called
Soda Machine by Michael Joseph Kospiah (writer of The
Suicide Theory). I will be directing and co-producing Soda
Machine, a disturbing psychosexual journey into fetishism, as a
segment in Kospiah's horror anthology Root of All Evil. After
that, sometime at the beginning of next year, I will move directly onto my
first feature, Get Some! That will be my first directorial
role on a self-written project since Pale Horse. It is a
Tarantino/Ritchie-inspired neo-noir set during a 24-hour time period full
of drug use, violence, and sex. Hence the title. How would you
describe yourself as a writer and director? I've never
actually been asked to describe myself as anything, let alone as a
filmmaker. It's kind of interesting actually. How do I answer that? I
guess I've evolved artistically since I began back in 2005 when I made my
first short film without having any kind of formal training. I've become
more conceptual since then. I started out making dark and disturbing
surrealist pictures, of which only a few ever were released. And only one
of them I was ever really proud of. It was an 11-minute short called Feb, and it was about an isolated paranoiac who lived his
lonely life doing the exact same things every single day except for on his
birthday, which was once every 4 years (29th February). It was nominated
for best drama at the inaugural Byron Bay Film Festival. Feb
was also one of the reasons I was allowed to attend university. Going to
film school didn't teach me much I didn't already know but the few things
I did learn were invaluable. I discovered the works of George Méliès, Leni
Reifenstahl, and Michael Haneke there. Attending certain classes
definitely made me a stronger storyteller. I also found a unique sense of
dry humor that I try to imbue in all of my subsequent films. If a project
cannot let go and stop taking itself too seriously, I often find it boring
or trite. That's not to say I don't enjoy watching a good drama or
thriller. Sometimes they surprise me. I don't always expect to watch films
with humor. I do, however, prefer to have a distinct comedy in my own
stuff. Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Michel Gondry, Terry Gilliam, David Lynch, the
Coen Brothers, and Tim Burton (mainly his stuff before Planet of the
Apes) all influence my style. Of course, I don't have the same
interests as any one of them and, so, I'm forced to make my own kinds of
films. Every artist steals. It's what they do with what they've stolen
that sets them apart. I like long takes, as does Martin Scorsese and Paul
Thomas Anderson. But I don't do them for the same reasons. I don't even
make the same kind of picture as Scorsese or Anderson. In fact, the
closest I'd come to either of their works is Bringing Out the
Dead and Punch Drunk Love. And even they are a stretch.
I like stark coloring and have a similar eye to Nicolas Winding Refn but I
like to make faster films. I don't tend to dwell. That's not to say I've
never had a 2-minute shot where nothing much happens. Pale
Horse is very introspective. It's also somewhat of a revision on the
horror genre. I've found that particular imagery appears frequently in my
films. This includes but is not limited to damage (accidental or
otherwise) to the throat, someone staring at their reflection in a mirror,
and contrasted characters. Duality is a major theme that keeps popping up.
I've never focused on good versus evil but, instead, feature characters
with varying shades of grey. Even my villains have the capacity to do good
things. Often times, they are good guys forced to do unspeakable acts or
people reacting to the trappings of the society in which they live.
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A
friend once compared me to Werner Herzog but I don't know. He's good but
he's too serious. I enjoy using cartoonish violence, heavily stylizing
action. In the case of Soda Machine, which is set in a
perverse world, I'm playing MOST things with a strong sense of normalcy.
But there is the odd occurrence that allows me to shake things up a bit.
It keeps everything fresh and fun, and exciting. I've been talking with
Kospiah in order to establish the best way to direct Soda
Machine. I fell head-over-heels in love with the script and, as a
writer, I understand how painful it is for a director to take something
you worked on and change it. I once allowed someone to direct a zombie
dark comedy I had written and that person, who I will not name,
transformed the script into a thriller and subsequently ruined it. It is
for this reason that I will never allow anyone to direct something I wrote
single-handedly AND why I always get the writer's opinion on the material
if it isn't mine. Thanks for the interview!
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