Interview: Seth Lochhead — Part 4
Seth Lochhead’s original screenplay Hanna made the Black List in 2006 and was produced, then released in 2011, the movie starring Saoirse Ronan, Cate Blanchett, and Eric Bana. Seth’s background is an interesting one, so I was pleased when he agreed to do a Q&A with me. I was even more pleased by Seth’s responses which I am sure you will find both entertaining and informative.
Today in Part 4, Seth talks about why he chose a girl for the Protagonist in Hanna and answers some craft questions:
There is a funny moment that is actually pretty revealing where Hanna has the opportunity for her first romantic adventure. And when asked by the boy if she’d like to kiss, Hanna says, “Kissing requires a total of 34 facial muscles, and 112 postural muscles. The most important muscle involved is the orbicularis oris muscle, because it is used to pucker the lips.” That demonstrates her book knowledge and lack of street knowledge. But instead of going, say, the Disney route whereby she would kiss the boy and that would somehow become a transformational moment, instead Hanna flips the guy over and flops him to the ground, responding like the trained killer she is. How do you interpret that moment?
At some point in the development of the script, someone decided that Hanna should kiss a boy and that this would some how turn her “sexually feral” (which is really fucked up on so many levels). It went entirely against: 1. My stylistic thesis (behaviorism — an act must be rooted in a precedent), 2. Implied a subtext I didn’t want implied and 3. Was contrary to who Hanna was as a human being. So I said fuck that shit (or a polite equivalent there of) and started my campaign to change it. I was in luck when Joe and Saoirse signed on, because they agreed with me and that was the end of that.
But, as we dug back into the script, it became apparent that, sure, Hanna might be intrigued by the romance of some of her fairy tales and the science of kissing. What she lacked, and what we see in the scene described above, is the cultural influence that tells a young girl that she must, when a boy desires it, especially at a campfire, suck his face. So, even if, intellectually, she knew what the boy was doing, instinctually (based upon her experiences up to that point), he was assaulting her. And once that happened, I figured if Hanna was going to kiss anyone, it would have to be on her own unique terms, removed from too much cultural influence, and with someone she loves (Sophie in the tent).
Two more things about Hanna. The first line of the movie occurs after Hanna fires an arrow into a reindeer who runs away, Hanna chasing the wounded creature. When the animal collapses, Hanna says, “I just missed your heart,” then calmly shoots the reindeer dead. The last line of the movie occurs after Hanna has wounded Marissa, and paralleling the opening, she says, “I just missed your heart,” then shoots Marissa. What layers of subtext do you think are at work in that line? Why do you think that line is so effective as a bookend?
If I haven’t disclaimed it already, let me disclaim it now: my answers to these questions are as relevant/irrelevant as anyone’s analysis of HANNA would be. I get a lot of discomfort in having to explain or analyze my own work (not because I don’t enjoy it — I do — but because my analysis has the tendency to be read as gospel). I am not the final word on this, neither is Joe, or any one person — or corporation — associated with HANNA the movie. I am happily (if anxiously) only a viewer now. So what follows is just my reading (to be discussed and debated ad infinitum)…
It was all a dream. ☺
The second thing: Was it always a girl assassin?
Yes.
Were you aware of the conventional wisdom and predisposition against female leads in action movies?
Not at first, but I was made aware later in the process (by managers and requests from producers).
At any point along the way did anybody suggest changing it to a teenage boy?
Yes. But notes like those, that fundamentally fuck with my intuition, I tend to ignore.
Assuming it was important for you for Hanna to be a girl, why is that the case?
It’s what was in my head. It’s what felt right. The more I thought about it, the more people were opposed to it (managers, producers, etc.), the more I became aware that it irritated a cultural prejudice. Unfortunately, boys and violence is a natural context for film (a cliché even). It’s something people expect and are comfortable with. By accident, her gender/sex added a layer to the film, just a little something extra to make the reader/audience uncomfortable/intrigued and something, if they so chose, to examine deeper (why can’t a little girl be strong?). I think it’s a dangerous thing to answer questions in your written work, but I think it is imperative to always ask the questions. That’s our job, to spark curiosity and emotion from an audience, to allow them to discover what’s going on inside their own heads.
Some craft questions. How do you come up with story ideas?
Lately, they’re sent to me in the mail. Previously, it starts with different motivations. I’ve been inspired by great films and wanted to homage them in someway (I turned The Searchers into a Zombie movie). I’ve been inspired by great books (I turned Turn of the Screw into an action movie and wondered what would happen if the creatures in the Island of Dr. Mareau spawned and became a sub-class of humanity). I’ve been intrigued by news items and then there’s just the stuff that comes to me in my sleep: a kid’s fingers playing the piano at a recital, his dad’s hands covered in blood. Or a bot fly impregnating someone’s forehead. And then there’s music. Sometimes music creates a feeling and I am compelled to capture that feeling. In all instances, it’s not necessarily a concrete idea. It’s more like a starting point, a drive to articulate something that could not possibly be articulated.
How important do you think the story concept is to the overall strength and commercial viability of a screenplay, specifically a spec script?
I think story concept is important to the commercial viability of a screenplay because we all say it is — that’s the culture of Hollywood. Concept is king because we perpetrate and support its absolute monarchy. People can’t sell complicated, but they can sell “It’s Leon, but in reverse.” I think, in the long run, quality has more value (at the screenplay level and at the film level). It’s what I’ve based my career on and the fact that I’ve had a career (no matter how modest it has been, and it has been quite modest) speaks to a quiet resistance in Hollywood (a counter-culture where quality is king). Of course, saying this now, I can see how HANNA’s simple concept opened doors and, I suppose (a simple concept coupled with inspired work — not perfect, mind you, inspired work that put its heart on its sleeve- will open doors and keep them open).
How much time do you spend in prep-writing (i.e., brainstorming, character development, plotting, research, outlining)?
All of the time. None of it. I tend not to write shit down unless it’s requested (and for a job, it’s always requested). I do a lot of my work on the page, within the script, scene by scene. It’s the only way I can ‘see’ it and ‘hear’ it and ‘feel’ it. I’m that writer that keeps rewriting the first page over and over and over again. And then the next page. And the next. I re-read what came before and continue on. My first draft is usually my thousandth revision. Research, character… that comes as I move. I will remember a little piece of something I read or I saw and it gets absorbed into the work. For example, I saw a trailer for a film called COME AND SEE and that had a huge impact on how I wrote SHADOW OF THE COLOSSUS. Plot comes from the characters’ pursuits of their own end goals (whatever those may be), conflict can be found in those pursuits. I try not to be conscious of my end goals (outside of the fact that I am chasing something to its logical — emotionally logical — conclusion).
Which of the aspects of prep do you tend to devote the most time and focus to?
It’s just exposure really. I try to expose myself to life, to a multitude of experiences. My brain and my body take notes, I hope, and then I use them in some way (consciously, unconsciously). Now, this might seem a little whishy-washy, a new age-y way to think about writing, but it’s what I learned, through trial and tons of error. After I sold HANNA and I began to believe my career was set, I shut down the experiences of my life, my exposure to the world at large, and tried to focus just on the work (on generating sellable product). It was stifling. I became Charlie Kaufman, in a bad way. I was climbing a Penrose staircase, going nowhere. My world became a 400 sq foot space, a double bed, and 800 cal. muffins my girlfriend would bring me at lunch. I grew a very long beard, I gained 100 lbs., and I tried my best to isolate myself inside my tiny apartment. The brain, without the outside world, without experience, is not a pleasant place to live. Left to its own devices, it becomes a cannibal. And then something changed. I can’t put my finger on it, but, at some point, I realized, for my work to flourish, I needed to expose myself to the world again, to people. I realized it was my job, as a writer, to see the world and to report on what I saw.
Tomorrow in Part 5, Seth talks about the craft of screenwriting.
For Part 1, go here.
Part 2, go here.
Part 3, go here.
Please stop by comments to thank Seth and ask any questions you may have.
Will is repped by WME.
Twitter: @SMLochhead.