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Features
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A Tale of Two Continents
American director John Curran got his start Down Under. Australian actress Naomi Watts is now a big thing in Hollywood. Confused yet?
Thursday, August 12, 2004
By Brett Buckalew
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Where the relationship between Hollywood and Australia was once so vaguely defined that the most visible cultural link between the two was the success of a stereotype-dependent romp like Crocodile Dundee, the hemisphere-separated lands have, over time, formed a more fruitful creative partnership. The American movie industry has Australia to thank for some of its most bankable contemporary stars - from Russell Crowe to Nicole Kidman - as well as perhaps its more recent emergence as a cheaper locale for gargantuan productions (a majority of the Matrix sequels were filmed Down Under).
There’s also a number of odd, coincidental Aussie connections to the current American indie We Don’t Live Here Anymore, which is ironic, considering the number of elements that make the film so thoroughly grounded in U.S.-based traditions. To begin with, it’s inspired by two short stories - Adultery and We Don’t Live Here Anymore - by acclaimed American author Andre Dubus, whose short fiction was also the basis for the award-winning In the Bedroom.
Through its tale of two married couples - Jack and Terry (Mark Ruffalo and Laura Dern), Hank and Edith (Peter Krause and Naomi Watts) - growing exhausted from the strain of work and family responsibilities, it chronicles a suburban malaise reminiscent of films like American Beauty and The Ice Storm. Heck, it even won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, a gathering presided over by none other than that glittering Hollywood icon Robert Redford.
But as fate would have it, the film’s U.S.-born director, John Curran, first made a name for himself during the sixteen-year period he lived in Sydney, Australia. It was in that region’s film industry where he made his debut film, Praise, an unconventional love story between a libido-deprived slacker and a nymphomaniac with a bad case of eczema. Not surprisingly, the film didn’t appeal to a large American audience upon its 2000 U.S. theatrical release, but it had already garnered much acclaim in its native Australia, including the support of a then-unknown local actress named Naomi Watts.
According to screenwriter Larry Gross (48 Hours, True Crime), who adapted the Dubus stories for We Don’t Live Here Anymore, Watts’ loyalty to her home turf in the wake of her American success with films like Mulholland Drive and 21 Grams (the latter earned her a Best Actress Oscar nomination) was a big part of getting financiers interested in We Don’t Live Anymore.
“[It was] serendipitous that Naomi Watts became a big star,” Gross reveals. “Because she was just a typical member of the Australian viewing community that thought John Curran was an important filmmaker, and that it was key to work on a John Curran project.”
Ruffalo, an American actor whose breakthrough performance four years ago in You Can Count On Me was as eye-catching as Watts’ career-energizing turn in 2001’s Mullholland Drive, initially passed on Gross’ script, but was encouraged to give it another look by his In the Cut director Jane Campion. Adding coincidence upon coincidence was the fact that Campion is a major filmmaker in the territory of - you guessed it - Sydney, Australia.
“I passed on [We Don’t Live Here Anymore] because I was afraid that no one could handle it in a mature way,” Ruffalo explains. “I didn’t know any directors that I thought could really handle this.”
“Jane Campion called me and said, ‘You have to see this guy’s first film!’ So I saw Praise, and I was just blown away, and I said, ‘Okay, you’re right.’”
So what makes Curran able to straddle the line between two cultures and attract fans from both of the continents he has called home? When listening to the director describe the woes facing the film’s four central characters, it’s evident that his interest lies in portraying raw emotions that unite human beings the world over.
“It was the first script I’ve read that reflected the dramas that I’m aware of, in my life, and [in the lives of] the people around me,” Curran suggests. “It’s tough to have a career, and be a partner, and be a good parent. That’s universal. It transcends culture and everything.”
Curran also responded to how Gross’ script forgave the characters their failings. The film shows how Jack, unable to control the rift growing between him and Terry, finds some comfort in an affair with Edith, who herself needs attention denied to her by the ever-straying Hank. In the meantime, Terry mulls over the overt passes that Hank constantly makes at her.
“Like Andre [Dubus] and like Larry, I’m interested in flawed people doing the best they can do to get by,” states Curran. “Not necessarily winning, whatever that means, but pursuing some kind of redemption or some element of grace.”
Ruffalo shares Curran’s interest in looking at human folly in a compassionate light. “My basic premise about a character is that there’s something human in all of them, there’s something that’s innately decent, that somehow loses its way.”
“I’ve had the great opportunity of knowing a lot of decent people in my life,” he reflects, “who have done really crappy things, or who have gotten involved in alcohol, or who have just lost their way, but they’re decent people.”
This interest in capturing the ambiguous morality of everyday human life, and in realistically showing the tense dynamics of a struggling marriage, make We Don’t Live Here Anymore a tough sell for today’s escapism-minded audiences, but Gross says that the story wasn’t such a risky proposition when he first started writing the script 25 years ago.
“I read [Dubus’] stories, and wanted to work on them in 1979, when the industry wasn’t so far away from this material,” the writer recalls. “The whole tradition of the movie about failed relationships was a staple feature of the relatively well-known art cinema, and it had a big impact on Hollywood.”
“Now, about the only person who makes these films that has any kind of access to a distributor is Woody Allen,” he adds. “But this story of flawed, failed relationships was really a part of the mainstream [in ‘79]. So when I adapted these, I had no idea I was writing a low-budget film that would be made independently. I thought I was writing a good script!”
Gross had troubles for many years in securing rights to the short stories, and then faced studio apathy once he did get the rights, but the success of In the Bedroom, and the participation of Watts as a producer as well as star, helped revive interest in the project.
While the actress is quick to convey her passion for Gross’ script, Watts also admits to being initially hesitant about playing a character as internalized in her pain and longing as Edith. “I thought it would be impossible for me to do the role, because I was coming off 21 Grams, where my emotions were so external,” she admits. “And that is the kind of role I’d normally want to play, because that is what I love to do—get it all out!”
In contrast, says Watts, “I just presumed that I’m boring when I’m not doing anything, when I’m not emoting. To be still and passive is very scary to me. I always think that it’s not enough.”
| Curran believes that Watts’ anxiety over how to play Edith translated to a great, sensitive performance. “I like that it was frustrating [for her],” the director confesses. “I like that she didn’t really get Edith. I love the way she played [Edith] in the end, with a slight amusement in her eyes the whole time. That was exactly what I was looking for.”
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Such subtle human nuances are a key part of breathing life into a character-driven drama like We Don’t Live Here Anymore, but will the film’s insights into keeping an adult relationship stress-free help Watts at all in her next role, as the heroine in director Peter Jackson’s big-budget, large-scale remake of King Kong?
“Yes!” Watts jokes. “I’m gonna have a chat with that monkey!” Looks like a certain ape better be ready to enter the era of couples’ therapy.
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