Rick Curnutte: Charlotte Sometimes is one of the most formally accomplished DV features that I've seen. With the immediacy of such a pliable medium, how much time are you able to spend on the visual compositions? What's your relationship like with your DP?

Eric Byler: Well, he's directing his own film now, called Drown. In recent months, we've met from time to time to talk about my next film. As far as the visual compositions, it may sound weird but they almost seemed to ooze out of the locations. That's why I'm skeptical about shooting on a set for the first time, where you build fake walls and all that. I'm afraid the inspiration wouldn't come to me. I spent a lot of time in that old house before we shot the film. I drew out each shot in great detail and we photographed them just as we would have if our format were 35 mm. Humphreys' big contributions were lighting and camera operation. He's very keen visually. He understood my visual approach from the screenplay alone. I showed him my storyboards, and an early Altman film and we became really of one mind. I trusted him to shoot some major scenes without viewing them through the monitor. And in reshoots, when I had to shoot scenes without him, I'd learned enough from our collaboration that I could light and operate the camera as he might have done.

RC: Your visual palette is very unique and expressive. Color and lighting play an important part in the mood of the film. Exactly how involved do you get with the production design and lighting? Do you work extensively with an art director?

EB: This is what I mean about the "ooze" thing. You're talking about the green light that shines in Michael's window. The truth is, that light is really there. The house next door has a motion sensor light that's green and it goes on for 10 minutes every time someone drives by or walks by with their dog. It's part of the milieu that drew me to that house, but I can't say what it means. The other striking use of color, the orange/red walls in Lori's part of the house, are inspired by kitchen walls in the actual location. My production designer Robert Shinso suggested we paint Lori's bedroom the same hue, which I guess lent itself to the kinds of things that go on in there... Shinso was the first of our team to get hired as a result of the film-- director Tim Hunter tapped him for The Failures.

As far as lighting goes, I guess I'm influenced by the noir films of the 40's and 50's, not that I was thinking noir when we lit the film, but I've seen a lot of noir films, so I'm not the type to say, "Hey, wait! I can't see every detail of his face, therefore it's not a movie." Actors are usually told to "find their light" so the camera can photograph them more clearly. My actors were told to forget they were being photographed at all. Charlotte Sometimes is about people who don't mind shadows, even seek them out-- people who hide more than they show.

RC: Your film is unique in that, despite its brief running time, you have allowed the story time to breathe and work itself out. Your pacing is effectively patient and deliberate. Is that difficult to accomplish?

EB: It wasn't difficult. I simply made the film I saw in my mind. My family and I paid for it, you see, so no one could tell me how to shoot it or how to edit it. A lot of directors aim for deliberate pacing, but they aren't allowed to have it because others are making decisions for them. This story called for moments of solitude. How could I depict loneliness and alienation without the ache of time? In intimate scenes, I'm trying to capture the way people speak and make choices in real life, at a pace that's natural to them, when there is no camera, no audience, no one watching.

RC: Charlotte Sometimes plays like the work of someone who truly understands film grammar. Do you consider yourself a film enthusiast? If so, who are some of your favorite directors, past and present?

EB: I'm probably not a film enthusiast. But I am educated in film grammar. I studied with some wonderful teachers at Wesleyan University in Connecticut. After college, I put myself through a round of training-- a three-year period of studying films on my own. I primarily sought out foreign films and American films from the late 60's/early 70's, which helped me translate my knowledge of film grammar into a visual style.

Lately I was impressed with The Piano Teacher, Talk to Her, and Lost in Translation. Some of the films that influenced Charlotte Sometimes include Five Easy Pieces, (Rafelson) Carnal Knowledge (Nichols), McCabe & Mrs. Miller (Altman), The Long Goodbye (Altman), and Vive L'Amour (Liang). The first two were thematic/characterization influences. Altman's films were cinematic influences. Liang's Vive L'Amour influenced both.

RC: The music in the film is subdued but effective. How do you go about choosing music to fit the piece?

EB: Michael Brook is an amazing musician, and somehow, he also intuitively understood the feel of my film. Michael has two primary elements to his music: guitar and synth. Both have incredible range. His guitar can go from jazz to country/western to ethereal/somber/beautifully romantic. I chose the latter. His keyboards go from catchy electronic to indescribably weird and otherworldly. Again I chose the latter. His guitar took the lead in most of the romantic scenes. And his otherworldly synthesizer sounds took the lead in some of the darker scenes. But they're always working together.

Prior to asking Michael to score the film, I was using temp music including five Cody ChesnuTT songs, four of which remained in the film, as well as everything from Depeche Mode instrumentals to Erik Satee (I noticed that About Schmidt actually used Satee). When I discovered Michael Brook's music, and when he agreed to write my score, I temped in songs from his Albino Alligator score, and his album Cobalt Blue. Michael liked the way ChesnuTT worked in the film and suggested we not replace those songs. The theme that first appears when Lori rehearses with the tape recorder is a variation of the Albino Alligator theme.

Anyway, after a few temp music meetings, Michael went into his studio and composed 36 songs. He suggested a scene for a couple of them, but overall he said it was up to me to decide which song went with which scene. I worked on Final Cut Pro and tried several songs with each scene, each on different tracks that could be turned off or on with the click of a button. I also edited them so that certain shifts in the music matched with certain moments in the film. Then I brought my laptop to Michael's studio to show him what I'd done. Usually he had an opinion on which song went best with a given scene, and usually we agreed. He suggested I make him a frame accurate edit decision list so he could conform his Pro Tools temp tracks to fit the music editing I'd done on Final Cut Pro. Then, he created the finished pieces, adding tracks including real percussion.

RC: Charlotte Sometimes plays delicately with issues of deception and people's perceptions of one another. For instance, the concept of having a true identity and having an identity that you project to the rest of the world, perhaps to gain acceptance. How do you balance out story elements and concepts with technical ones?

EB: I'm not sure I'm aware of these things when I'm creating, but the light and shadow we discussed earlier are two examples of evoking story elements with the technical elements. The hanging veil, through which Jacqueline Kim is often photographed, is another. I tend to frame actors with foreground objects to create distance between them and the viewer. To me, this implies that these are not actors being presented to you, but real people who might not be aware that they are being photographed.

Deception in human interaction is a lot more delicate in life than it is in the movies. I tried to use the visuals to supplement performances that were as layered, complex and subtly dishonest as people are in real life. Continuous medium close-ups, and over-the-shoulder shots that float near the actors' direct line of sight will undermine the illusion that they are real people.

RC: There are quite a few sex scenes in the film. Do you think it's easier to do these kinds of vignettes without the elaborate setups that working with film would require?

EB: It is easier, yes, because you can get them over quicker. One awkward part of shooting a sex scene is between shots, when you have technicians needing to come on set. But we only had one set-up for each sex scene, so there was no in-between time. We dressed and lit the set, everyone but the camera operators left, and then we brought in the actors. Sound was done using a C-stand instead of a boom operator-- even I was outside the room for all but one of the sex scenes. If you allow actors to feel safe, and give them dramatic objectives, a sex scene can amount to more than just a montage of body parts set to music. The sex scenes in Charlotte Sometimes are integral to the dramatic arc of the story.

RC: There are two noteworthy cultural exchanges that really stand out in the film. What's the sociological significance of the "smile Asian" and "did your mother teach you how to use chopsticks?" (paraphrased) dialogue?

EB: I'm not sure I'd call them cultural exchanges. The word "Asian" was not in the screenplay. "Smile really Asian" was improvised by Jacqueline Kim. I left it in because I liked the freshness and spontaneity. Later in the same scene, I asked Jacqueline to spring the chopsticks lines on Matt Westmore because I wanted his natural reaction-- I'd found he was very good when surprised. "What part of you is Asian?" and "Did your mother teach you how to use chopsticks" refer to an often-misconstrued nuance of the film. The other three actors in that scene are full-blooded Asian American, but Matt is half Asian and half Caucasian (as am I). In this scene, Darcy is attempting to get under Matt's skin by implying he is not Asian enough to use chopsticks correctly by nature. She also brings the subject up in a way that sort of annoys multiracial people. "What part of you is Asian?" implies that he is somehow bifurcated, not whole. The answer he doesn't give is, "All of me. All of me is Asian."

RC: It's impossible to adequately praise the film without talking about the performances. Your cast of relatively unknown actors is surprisingly accomplished. What's your relationship with your actors like? And how did the marvelously talented Jacqueline Kim come to be a part of the film?

EB: We all became close friends as a result of shooting the film. Can you imagine if the group from Waiting for Guffman really HAD gone to Broadway? That's what it's been like for us watching this little $20,000 movie just keep on going-- from little screenings for our friends on my computer, to the festival premiere and festival awards, to the 35 mm blow-up, to the Spirit Awards, to theatrical premiers across the country. We must have done a dozen events together, we're all great pals and we still hang out.

We were less familiar with each other during filming, but we had had a 10 day rehearsal process which Michael Idemoto likes to refer to "boot camp." Michael and Matt I met through auditions, but the women were already friends of mine. I wrote the title role for Jacqueline. She's been with me every step of the way since 1997 when I first wrote it. Eugenia understudied for me in a play that I directed almost immediately before pre-production. The fifth member of our team is Kimberly-Rose, who plays the waitress Annie. She's also Asian Pacific of mixed ancestry, in fact I directed her in a short when she was in High School back in Hawai'i.

RC: The acting is extremely understated at times, but still immensely passionate and pleasurable to watch. How involved do you get with shaping the actors' work? Do you rehearse at all?

EB: Rehearsal was a key part of designing the characters and the various dynamics between the characters. I looked at the different couples and asked myself how closely their natural dynamics together fit the dynamics I was looking for. For instance, I knew that I had an insight into Jacqueline that Idemoto needed in order to see her the way I wanted him to see her. So, I asked Jacqueline to sing a song called "I Can Let Go Now" on the piano, and asked Michael to sit and listen. Another exercise was to send them on a walk together at night, instructing them not to speak. A third was to have them goof around in an improvised scene playing silly Asian stereotypes. You see all three of those exercises pay off in the film. By contrast, I never rehearsed with Matt and Jacqueline beyond seeing them together at auditions. I knew right away I had the chemistry I was looking for - and because so much of it depended on strangers discovering one another, I tried to separate them and even instructed Matt not to socialize with Jacqueline during production. Jacqueline later said she had the impression that Matt didn't like her, which served her well in her scenes with him, because she was all the more guarded, all the more insecure, and all the more aggressive.

RC: Darcy/Charlotte and Lori have a history together that Michael is unaware of. Did you write any kind of back-story for their relationship, anything for yourself and the actors to use to build upon?

EB: Yes, Jacqueline and I worked out something that she and I both liked. And then I had Jacqueline privately expand upon it with Eugenia. Jacqueline oversaw this aspect of rehearsal, but she encouraged Eugenia to contribute. It wasn't necessary for me to know everything they decided about their characters' past. Idemoto and Eugenia had a similar rehearsal, with instructions from me, but without my supervision. Having secrets (even from the director) helps actors bring characters to life. Also, in a sense, the director's eye becomes aligned with the viewer's eye-- we watch and study them, not entirely knowing them, but getting closer to knowing them in spite of their guises.

RC: Charlotte Sometimes has received much-deserved acclaim. It was featured at Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival. It has won several Audience and
Jury Prizes at festivals across the United States. It was nominated for two Independent Spirit Awards (Best Supporting Female, Jacqueline Kim and the John Cassavetes Award for Best Feature under $500,000). Have these accolades opened any new doors for you professionally? Do you see yourself working with DV again?

EB: Well, the accolades certainly opened the door for the film. I don't think the theatrical release would have happened without the nominations, and the initial reviews by Roger Ebert and Robert Koehler (Variety). The film in turn, opened doors for me.

My interest in Asian Pacific Americans has already "ghettoized" most of my projects, meaning that decent budgets are hard to justify for films the industry thinks no one wants to see. I'd prefer to shoot on film, but I may not be able to until I start making "mainstream" films.

RC: Do you have any new projects in the works?

EB: Yes, many. I'm writing one quarter of a new series for Showtime, called Infidelity. Mine will be the story with the Asian American people in it. My next feature film will likely be American Knees, based on Shawn Wong's novel by the same title. I'm attached to direct three different films set in Hawai'i. I recently co-wrote two new scripts for me to direct that are of the non-ghetto variety.

                                                                 © FILM JOURNAL 2002