“Dear White People” filmmaker Justin Simien looks back at Sundance 2014 and his film's breakout success; Rick Famuyiwa, the writer-director of the 2015 Sundance favorite, "Dope," describes being at the center of one of the buzziest films at the fest. Composer Bear McCreary rocks out on his hurdy-gurdy and applauds the current state of music composition in television.
Sundance 2015: Behind the scenes of selling Inglewood-set movie 'Dope'
All week we’re covering this year’s Sundance Film Festival and talking with the filmmakers behind some of the hottest movies in Park City, Utah. Rick Famuyiwa is one of those guys. He wrote and directed “Dope” — a comedy set in a historically tough part of Inglewood known as the Bottoms.
But unlike other films set in these kinds of neighborhoods, the main characters in "Dope" are geeky teens who have a lot in common with the kids in Judd Apatow's "Freaks and Geeks." Still, they also live in a place where they could get shot buying a hot dog.
Famuyiwa and his producers Forest Whitaker and Nina Yang Bongiovi had shopped the script around Hollywood studios to no avail. So they made "Dope" independently.
After "Dope" premiered at Sundance, there was a fierce bidding war, which ended when Open Road Films and Sony Pictures Worldwide reportedly bought the movie for $7 million. On the day after the deal closed, the Frame's editor Darby Maloney chatted with Famuyiwa about his surreal Sundance experience and upending stereotypes on screen.
Interview Highlights:
Give us some insight into what's happening for you, because this is what every filmmaker who gets his or her movie at Sundance wishes for.
One, it was the first screening in front of a real audience, so just to get the reaction of people laughing where I'd hoped they would, and clapping where I had no idea applause would come was staggering.
And then to go straight from that to literally right after your Q&A where folks were shaking my hand, in my face like, "We're going to talk later today, I'm talking to your representatives now."
I went from there to the after party for the film and we were just celebrating how incredible it was, and then there are potential buyers at the after party as well. [laughs] I guess it feels sort of like a beauty pageant -- you're going down a line, shaking hands, and smiling really big as everyone compliments you. It's surreal; how do you react to all that? How do you react to everything coming at you?
And how did you react? Part of the smile was probably genuine, but at some point was it like, "Now I have to perform for these people?"
What's crazy is that it's the other way around. You're so used to having to do that, because any time you're trying to make a movie at any level, unless you're Christopher Nolan or James Cameron, you have to go in there and put on a show.
And so being on the other side of it was a little weird, you know? [laughs] Especially with a lot of people who had seen the script before, because "Dope" had gone out in a traditional way and went to a lot of the studios, and they read the script and they didn't get it. [laughs]
Really?
They didn't get it, and so it was interesting to be in a room with a lot of the people I had sent the script to earlier and now they're telling you how brilliant it was. [laughs]
Had it changed at all?
It changed just because of the budget: we couldn't raise the same amount of money that a studio could, so we just had to make some logistical changes. But the heart of the story was pretty much the same, and the script -- besides cuts for locations that would be too expensive -- was the same script.
But I'm going to let them off the hook a little bit because I think it was such a different kind of script, and what I was playing with was the idea of this familiar world that we've seen a lot on film and television. We think we know these neighborhoods and these kids and everything about this environment, and I was completely scrambling what those notions were.
These are three geeks living in The Bottoms of Inglewood, which is one of the toughest neighborhoods -- it's gotten better from when I was growing up -- in the city, but they're into punk rock, and hip-hop, and manga, and skateboards, and BMX bikes, and all kinds of stuff. And they're talking about Aaron Schwartz and Bitcoin, so I think it was like a server error in their minds; it was like the spinning wheel of death that goes on your computer. [laughs]
They were looking at the script and it was short-circuiting everything they thought, so I think until they saw it realized they couldn't quite get into it. It was something they needed to see first. But from there it was back to my agents' cabin, and everyone comes by and says hi. [laughs]
And they court you!
Yeah, yeah.
Are they bringing frankincense and myrrh?
[laughs] Yes, they come and it's completely absurd. They come in and they passionately talk about your film, and it's literally a crazy, overnight, "deals going back and forth" thing with people getting upset, like, "Why am I meeting at three in the morning and not one in the morning?!" [laughs]
We've even had Harvey Weinstein calling you up giving you the full-on, [laughs] you know, full-on Harvey. And it’s just surreal because six months ago, there was nothing.It's surreal, because six months ago there was nothing. We were still struggling to try to figure out the final financing of the movie, and here we are; we shot the movie over the summer, and here we are at Sundance. It's unreal.
'Dear White People' director Justin Simien on his Sundance experience with the film
Sundance can make and break careers. Filmmaker Justin Simien was well aware of the risks and rewards of debuting his film “Dear White People” at the festival last year. But after his movie received critical praise and a special jury award, it’s safe to say that the trek to Park City, Utah paid off.
Listen to Justin Simien as he remembers what he was going through when his film premiered at the Sundance festival in 2014.
Watch 'Walking Dead' & 'Black Sails' composer Bear McCreary rock out on a hurdy-gurdy
You might not recognize composer Bear McCreary if you passed him on the street, but chances are you’ve heard one of his iconic television scores.
McCreary has created original music for TV shows like "Battlestar Galactica," "The Walking Dead" and "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D." His first gig creating music for TV was on "Battlestar" when he was just 24 years old. Working under the original scorer, Richard Gibbs, McCreary took over as principal composer after Gibb's departure only three episodes into the series.
Over the years he’s forged a niche for himself, creating orchestral scores for shows mainly in the sci-fi and horror genres, but his more recent project includes the period epic “Black Sails,” the Starz series about the golden age of pirating, which just started its second season.
For this series, McCreary wanted to use period-specific instruments, like the hurdy-gurdy, to lend authenticity to the show and break the mold of "epic orchestration" that has become standard for shows and films about pirates.
When McCreary came by the Frame studio (hurdy-gurdy in hand), we talked about the current landscape of music on television, cutting his teeth on "Battlestar Galactica" and the enjoyable restrictions of working on Starz.
Interview Highlights:
How early did you find your love for film and TV scores?
I was 5 years old and I was in a movie theater, and I started bringing these little Fisher-Price tape recorders? [laughs] And I guess I wa—
You're the original bootlegger!
I was! I would bring them to the movie theater and hold them up, because I wanted to take the music home and listen to it. And when I was about 6 I realized you can go to a store and buy a tape or vinyl of the music from a movie without the dialogue and sound effects. And then I was hooked.
My impression of music in television is a little bit like arts education in public schools: it's like the first thing to go. But you're able to work with very talented musicians. Are you the exception to the rule? Are you fighting against a trend here?
Sometimes it feels a little like that, although really I think that trend is reversing. The orchestra that I record every week on "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D." for Marvel, for example, is every bit as big as the orchestra that records on their movies.
I think that perceptions of television have been changing over the last 10 years and there's been a sort of gold rush in terms of talent moving from other arenas into television. So when your producer is Joss Whedon or Frank Darabont, and we go to the studio and say, "Hey, we want to do this for the music," there are no arguments. People are very excited to help them find their vision and put it on a screen for audiences; it happens to be the small screen, but we get to tell pretty big tales. It's very exciting.
Let's talk a little bit about the orchestration on that track — what were you trying to do, and what was the setup?
[laughs] I was working on the season finale for the third season of "Battlestar Galactica," and I got the memo that the producer wanted a version of Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower." So I kind of wanted to do a "George Harrison meets Rage Against the Machine version," which I think was actually written on the score where it would normally say "adagio" or whatever.
I pitched it to Ron Moore, the showrunner, and I was expecting it to be shot down gloriously because it's so bizarre, but everybody loved it. And it was one of the pivotal moments, both narratively in the show — it was a big reveal — but also in my career, because it really allowed the music to become a character in the show.
From that point on, for the rest of "Battlestar Galactica," my score was integrated into the narrative in a way that was very daring and unusual.
When you're thinking about what role music plays in storytelling, how would you define your job? What role do you see music serving in terms of informing the audience or getting them ready for something to happen?
It's different for every film, show, or even video game. In some cases, you get out front and you make a big, bold statement, and you help guide the audience through a fantastic environment, an environment that needs some emotional support in order for you to believe.
In other situations, music really needs to take a backseat role. I don't get out in front of the drama; I do everything I can to stay out of the way. If you look at "The Walking Dead," for example, there's very little music, and what music there is has just enough momentum to have an impact, and not a single note more than that.
[laughs] That was quite a workout. It's funny you mention that, because I definitely got some glares by the end of that session when I said, "No, we've gotta do it one more time." It was a workout, for sure.
What's your theory about combining a classic instrument, like a violin, with something more modern?
"The Walking Dead" is, I think, a timeless piece — it takes place in the modern day and it's in the genre of zombie horror, which of course goes back to the late '60s with George Romero. So I wanted something that acknowledged that, and I'm borrowing the concept for the string writing very blatantly from Bernard Herrmann and his works that he did for Alfred Hitchcock.
"Psycho" in particular?
Exactly. I always loved those string ostinatos, the angst of that string figure that repeats over and over. And the interesting thing is that in cinema that's very effective, and in television it might be even more so.
In particular, that figure in the main title — people have been listening to that for years. And it becomes this thing that burrows into your brain, and you hear it before the main title even starts. My goal was that it creates this Pavlovian response that when you hear that, you know you're watching "The Walking Dead."
But you're also developing a theme, and the theme is that musical idea that's going to anchor the compositions for that show. How do you discover a theme for a certain show?
For me, the theme is the most important part of a score, and I usually tackle the main title first so that I can get a sense of what the DNA of the score is going to be, like what the instruments are going to be. In the case of "The Walking Dead," it's funny that you mention that because I really didn't hear a theme.
I was writing the scene at the end with the main character. Spoiler alert! He ends up under a tank and immediately, when he started crawling under the tank and the zombies were crawling at him, I put my hand on the keyboard and I played "dun da dun da da da dun da dun da da da," and I stopped. I went, "Oh my god, that's the main title." And I quit that scene, I opened up the main title, I wrote it super fast, and I played it for Frank and we played it for AMC. That was it. That sort of sudden burst of inspiration is very rare for me; I usually chisel away at things, but that was really fun.
You have a knack for scoring sci-fi and horror. Is that something you were drawn to as a viewer? Is it what you find yourself most comfortable in? Does one job beget the other?
It's a little bit of all of that. I grew up watching and consuming all kinds of sci-fi, horror and fantasy, and it's definitely where I am most excited. But I also thrive on diversity.
I've been doing some projects on Starz lately which have really let me go back in time, and that was one of the big draws for me to start doing some premium cable shows — "Da Vinci's Demons," "Black Sails" and now "Outlander" on Starz — where it's not in an open-ended environment.
It's forcing me to learn about a specific time period and write music in a more restricted environment, and I find that after years of doing "Battlestar Galactica" and stuff like that, it's very liberating.
So I recognize the piano. What else is playing there?
[laughs] What you're primarily hearing there is an instrument called the hurdy-gurdy, which kind of became the rock star of this score. You hear it in every cue and it's kind of the backbone of all the music in the show.
I strove to use only period instruments, so in the case of "Black Sails," it takes place in Nassau in 1715, and it's about the golden age of piracy .The hurdy-gurdy is a primitive instrument that is similar to a violin or viola, but it has a crank that you turn instead of a bow.
You brought along something today and it looks like a little coffin. What's in your coffin box?
[laughs] Well, this is my hurdy-gurdy that I write and record a lot of "Black Sails" with.
It looks like a violin with a crank on the end, but instead of strings and frets on the end there are what?
There are three strings, only one of which you can change the notes for. So there's two drone strings, which is why it actually sounds very much like a bagpipe.
It's very much like a primitive violin; it's something that was developed before the violin, but it's a very bizarre sound, and as a keyboard player I grew up playing anything with a keyboard on it. But I did not take violin lessons when I was a kid, so this has been great for me to approach something that is a little between a keyboard instrument and a string instrument.