Filmmaker Paul Schrader Discusses Underseen Films at New-York Historical Society
The museum located in Central Park West hosted "Le Conversazioni" with the "Raging Bull" and "Taxi Driver" screenwriter in early March.
For those who attended “Le Conversazioni: An Evening with Filmmaker Paul Schrader” in New York City on the evening of March 7, they were treated to stories about silent films, French filmmakers, and the caged snake and rabbit in Sam Peckinpah’s home.
Every few months, New-York Historical Society hosts “Le Conversazioni” as a part of the nearly 20-year-old international festival, pairing notable filmmakers, writers and other artists with moderator Antonio Monda. The latest event took place earlier this month with acclaimed filmmaker Paul Schrader. After starting his career in the realm of film as a critic, Schrader began working on films in the 1970s, with his first feature screenplay being that of the Sydney Pollack-directed The Yakuza (1974). It would not take long for him to get noticed on a scale that’d allow him to consistently write and direct films over the next roughly 50 years, including Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985), Light Sleeper (1992) and First Reformed (2017).
Schrader is still at it, staying introspective with two more films since the beginning of the decade in The Card Counter (2021), starring Oscar Isaac, and Master Gardener (2022), which had Joel Edgerton as the lead. His next film, Oh, Canada, will star Richard Gere and Jacob Elordi.
During his conversation at New-York Historical Society, Schrader focused on three underseen films he feels audiences and filmmakers can learn from: L’Argent (1928), Umberto D (1952) and Pickpocket (1963).
Speaking on the silent L’Argent, directed by Marcel L'Herbier, Schrader said, “When silent films first came into being, they had their roots in narrative theatrical storytelling… L’Herbier was one of the great silent masters and is not nearly as appreciated as others like Buñuel, but is every bit their equal.”
“It’s like watching the first visual language develop.” -Paul Schrader, on “L’Argent” (1928)
Along with a clip that was shown to the crowd after Schrader introduced the film, he also made note of the fact that a young experimental filmmaker named Jean Dréville, who went on to have a career in moviemaking, followed L’Herbier during L’Argent’s production, creating the first making-of film. Since this was done during the silent era, Schrader noted the benefits this offered to Dréville, saying he “was unencumbered and could go almost anywhere, unlike today when you do a making-of film — you can't make any noise.”
In his discussions of the films, Schrader expressed his admiration for Mark Cousins’ 15-hour-long, all-encompasing documentary, The Story of Film: An Odyssey (2011). One of the pieces of analysis the documentary offered that Schrader found especially striking was explained further during the evening’s portion centered on Vittorio De Sica’s Umberto D.
“It was a change in the concept of time,” Schrader said. “Before World War Two, motion pictures dealt with what [The Story of Film] called a ‘movement image.’ Neorealism started dealing with time — how long does it take for something to happen? — as part of the drama.”
The unnaturally speedy dialogue and constantly moving pace of many films from the 1930s and ‘40s are in contrast to the brutally honest stories told by neorealist filmmakers like De Sica and his contemporary, Roberto Rossellini. Schrader continued: “Movies started to realize that when something isn’t happening, something really is happening.” De Sica takes his time, enjoying the scene that was shown to the audience by Schrader, that of the young pregnant maid, Maria, striking a match against the wall to light a gas stove. To Schrader, these few drawn out minutes exemplified the philosophy of neorealist film: highlighting the reality of a story, even the seemingly mundane moments.
The final film Schrader chose to speak about was French writer-director Robert Bresson’s Pickpocket (1959) which, though maybe not very well-known by the general public, remains a film school classic.
“Pickpocket weighs very heavily in my view of film,” Schrader said, “from the famous ending, which I’ve ripped off a couple of times in American Gigolo (1980) and Light Sleeper, to the famous montages.” Schrader described the film’s central character as an “existential hero,” saying that Bresson realized that if you show a character for long enough — regardless of their moral standing — the audience will start to identify with them, “no matter what they think, because they can’t help it.” He also emphasized the visual distancing in the film, especially during the film’s horse race scene, which was shown to the sold-out auditorium of film fans.
“So much is happening apart from your expectations that demand to fill in the void that is the character itself,” he continued. “When I first saw this film, it was like a revelation to me. I just didn’t know you could tell stories in this passive-aggressive way.” On the topic of narration, Schrader mentioned that he enjoys cases like that in Pickpocket, in which redundancies reminding you of something you already know are used as an effect.
In general conversation with Monda, the event’s moderator, Schrader revisited his early years in the industry and how his directing and writing styles have changed over time. Explaining how he came in at the era with Charles Bronson and Dirty Harry (1971), he said, “I started out doing violence, and I remember when I switched because there was a cover of Saturday Review with [Martin] Scorsese, [Brian] De Palma, Walter Hill and myself, and it was called ‘The Brutalists,’ and I said, ‘Wow, they’re going to put me in that box, I can see it right now.’ Critics love to find a box for you. So I stopped writing so much violence.”
Schrader also offered personal anecdotes relating to violence in film, bringing up his friendship with director Sam Peckinpah while discussing Monda’s own pick for the night.
“I was hanging around Peckinpah at [the time of The Wild Bunch (1969)], doing a long article on him, and I saw a first cut of this film and it knocked me out,” Schrader said. “I sort of became a Peckinpah-philiac. He had a deep understanding of loss and had a sense of: ‘I know what I’m doing is wrong. I know it’s evil. But God help me, I love it so.’” Calling The Wild Bunch not only Peckinpah’s best, but the best Western, period, Schrader said, “It’s the culmination of everything great and wrong about a Western, with their psychopathic nature.”
To stay aware of future “Le Conversazioni” events, visit New-York Historical Society’s website and consider signing up for their newsletter. (By the way, it’s a great museum, and if you’re ever in New York, definitely visit the exhibits!)
3/29/24
If I could have a conversation with Schrader I would ask him about the extent to which Brendon was influenced by Dostoevsky- specifically, how “Pickpocket” seems to borrow liberally from the story structure of “Crime and Punishment.” (This would also mean well with his contention in “The Transcendental Style in Film” that Bresson’s films are analogous to Byzantine iconography, whose closest modern parallel would be Eastern Orthodox theology of the type Dostoevsky embraced.).
He might feel less bad about ripping off Bresson if he thought Bresson was ripping off some dead Russian guy.
Sounds like an absolutely fascinating discussion as always with Schrader.
I could almost overlook the sheer pretentiousness on the part of the organizers in calling a series of seminars in New York "Le Conversazioni", and in fact will do so in honour of Schrader's lack of same, his direct wonderful insights like calling Bresson's Pickpocket "passive agressive flimmaking".
Great article Joseph, really enjoyed it.