Getting to Know… Rian Johnson
Emergent director Rian Johnson’s highly regarded 2005 debut feature, the satisfyingly odd Brick, applied the tropes of a 1930s detective novel to messy high-school politics. His second film, The Brothers Bloom, stars Adrien Brody and Mark Ruffalo as a pair of sibling con men about to pull one last con on a rich heiress played by Rachel Weisz. On paper, the new film is larger by almost every measure than its predecessor: its excellent cast includes a couple of Academy Award winners and another nominee, it was shot in four different countries, and it had a budget that, while modest by Hollywood standards, offered Johnson a significantly larger tool chest than he had for his debut. But Brick and Bloom share at least one important feature: their creator’s deep love of language, which drew him to filmmaking to begin with. Paste caught up with Johnson in Chicago to chat about his literary approach to film and about his experience in the sandbox of big(ger)-budget movie-making.
Paste: One of my favorite things about The Brothers Bloom is that it really feels like a writer’s movie. They’re con-men, but Stephen, Mark Ruffalo’s character, is almost creating a novel, you know.
Rian Johnson: Yeah. Yeah, it’s about storytelling. I mean, for me that was kind of the thing that got me going, because I had thought a lot about doing a con man movie, but the way I was able to find a way into it myself—so that it was personal and meant something to me—was this whole idea of romanticizing the con man and really looking at him as a storyteller and using that to explore how we all use storytelling in our lives. And not just writers or directors or actors or people who do it professionally, but everybody. Just day to day. Living a good life is taking in the world around you and telling it back to yourself as a good story, you know?
Paste: Yeah, I think it’s true. In the film we sometimes ask ourselves, “Well, is this created or not?” At one point Adrien Brody’s character mentions that maybe Penelope [Rachel Weisz] is a creation of his brother—not the girl of his dreams, but an actress. But in some ways it doesn’t really matter, because everything is sort of filtered through this creation process.
Johnson: That’s kind of, yeah, the notion of the unwritten life being a fallacy, that everybody is writing their own life, it’s just writing a good one. Yeah, yeah, absolutely.
Paste: Is writing a screenplay a little bit like being a con man?
Johnson: Oh yeah. Well, not as much as getting a movie financed is like being a con man. [Laughs] I mean, being a con man is theatrics, it’s misdirection, it’s dazzling with one hand while you’re slipping the wallet out of their back pocket with the other, and very much so in terms of just narrative storytelling. I mean, that’s what you’re doing, trying to keep the audience off-guard for the reversals, but trying to plant the information so it feels like a good payoff. But, yeah, you could go on and on about the various things that are analogous to being a con man, I guess [laughing], in any career that you choose… And for me that was part of the appeal of it, just that in some ways there is kind of a universal application. But you have to remove it from the criminal element. [Laughs] You have to romanticize it and take it to this place where it is more about telling somebody a story, rather than robbing them.
Paste: Which your movie does. We never care too much that they’re ripping someone off.
Johnson: Yeah, she [Penelope] doesn’t really care. I mean, I love con man movies that explore that darker side, like Mamet’s films, and there are so many films that have done that well, using it as a kind of window into the larceny in people’s souls, you know, but this was just something different.