From activist, to the arthouse, from “jumbo shrimp” to Oscar-winning actor, she still hadn’t done a blockbuster…
“So ‘Narnia‘ comes along. And my children are small, and for whatever reason Andrew Adamson, the director, wants me. So I don’t have to line up and try out with everyone else, and I don’t have to produce it or hold anyone’s hand. I just have to fly down to New Zealand and shoot, and then come back. And pay my mortgage, which is good.”
But even in a big studio production, Swinton fought for (and won) a few concessions to “perversity.”
“There is one option ahead of you [with a role like the White Witch] which is straight down the middle, caricature, blam. And it would be so much easier, you’ve got the voice in your head, the barnstorming, shouting, mustache-twirling villain and very often it’s almost too much effort to resist doing it. But I do remember with that witch, wanting to make her quiet. Wanting to be perverse with it. How can we twist it, how can we make her not just Cruella de Vil?”
“This was the first film I’d done with any kind of studio committee-ness around it,” she continues. “And when we were developing the look there was a big committee at Fox — or not Fox, Disney! Whatever [laughs]. And I was getting very excited about being super white and having white eyelashes. Because I am pretty white so I thought well, why cast me if you’re not going the whole hog with the whiteness? And somebody said, ‘She’ll be having red lips, red nails and black hair.’ And I said, ‘oh, why?’ ‘Cos she’s evil.’ [rolls eyes] And they also said, ‘She’ll wear a lot of eye make-up.’ And I said, ‘well you’ve got me, and this is kind of the way I look.’ And they said, ‘But she has to be beautiful!’ So this was my task, I thought, ‘if nothing else happens, she’s going to be Aryan-white and she’s going to have no eye makeup.’ And I did it. I’m so proud of it.”
Her collaboration with Lynne Ramsay on “We Need To Talk About Kevin” came about because she loved Lionel Shriver’s book, but also because of one tiny moment from her own life experience.
“When I had my children, I was very much looking forward to them coming. But the second they were born I had this moment of relief because I loved them. I saw them and I loved them. And I remember afterwards thinking, ‘why were you relieved? What did you expect? Was it possible that you might not have?’ And when I read the book, that was the thing for me, that it can happen. You can look at your newborn child and it’s not there.”
But despite making that film about a nightmarish experience of motherhood, with one of the greatest working female directors, Swinton was gratifyingly ambivalent when Bailey asked if she’d noticed women directors having a different approach to their male counterparts.
“I think the wonderful thing about art, but cinema, in particular, is that it is a free state for us. A place to be free of gender, of nationhood, of race, age, whatever. I am of course an enormous supporter of women filmmakers — I am a woman filmmaker — and we need more of them. But I don’t know how much I recognize a women’s film language. I think that’s the glory of filmmaking: That we can all be whatever we want to be. I steer away more and more from the idea of a gendered cinema.”
The first film to make an impression on her is 10 minutes long and available on YouTube.
“The first big-screen film I saw was ‘Herbie Rides Again‘ — and that was a pretty rocking film. But the first film that really got under my skin was something that I saw on television when I was eight and a half, and for many years I thought it was a dream. Only about ten years ago I discovered it was ‘Powers of Ten‘ by Charles and Ray Eames.”
Swinton’s reputation for wanting as little dialogue as possible is well-earned.
“I really hate speaking in films. And I know words are very important, as a writer I know that. But I find it very difficult to learn lines, mainly because — again — I’m not a proper actor. And I have fallen foul occasionally of not remembering very well and improvising. Which some people don’t mind at all and some people really mind. Ethan Coen minds. I mean, you don’t mess with a Coen Brothers script and I did, really badly, once [on ‘Hail Caesar‘]. And he sent me a note saying, ‘I just want you to know your lines tomorrow,’ and I went and I learned them better than I’ve learned any lines ever.”
And she has developed one other trick for when lines are difficult to sell.
Discussing the chess scene in “Only Lovers Left Alive,” which we watched twice through, Swinton remarked, “So I had these lines. There aren’t that many. But they are, and Jim [Jarmusch] would be the first to say it, a little stilted. They don’t come out in the most easy way. So what I did was just say them at the last possible second. I just kept lounging around on the chair and then… [pause] theycameoutofmymouth. And that brinksmanship, I do use that, it does serve me. Because I think my bullshit detector is pretty highly tuned against sounding contrived or actory or theatrical or portentous. I find that hard to watch. That’s one of the reasons I love documentary so much. I want to see people thinking and then express what they’re thinking about. And being inarticulate and saying ‘no, no that’s not what I meant,’ and getting the words wrong and trying again. I love that and I want that.”
Finally, Bailey proposed a “game” whereby Swinton had to describe in one word or so, some of the impressive roster of filmmakers she has worked with. First up: The Coens?
“Ha, I would say ‘meticulous’ but I know you’re going to ask me about Wes Anderson so I’m saving that one for him! Hmm. Collegiate. And very ready to be amused. They laugh while you’re shooting.”
Lynne Ramsay?
“Anarchic”
Her friend and film festival co-programmer Mark Cousins?
“Enthusiast.”
Sally Potter?
“Cheeky.”
Luca Guadagnino (with whom Swinton is currently working on a screenplay adaptation in which she may or may not appear)?
“Cine-literate.”
David Fincher?
“Exhaustive — no, not exhausting! Exhaustive, in all the best ways.”
Bela Tarr?
“Magical.”
Bong Joon-ho?
“Visionary.”
Wes Anderson?
“…Meticulous!”
And for the “bonus round,” Bailey asked her to sum up a friend, who happened to be sitting in the front row, and who will be the subject of the next Qumra masterclass. Apichatpong Weerasethakul?
“Divine,” replies Swinton with a broad smile, somehow making that luvviest of words sound like the warmest, simplest statement of fact.
Tune back in soon for coverage of the rest of the Qumra masterclasses, including that of the “divine” Apichatpong.
