By all acounts, Woody Allen's new movie is a massive return to form. A couple of American girlfriends (played by Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson) head to Barcelona for the Summer, where a couple of Spaniards (played by Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem) quickly turn their worlds upside down. For Woody Allen, this shooting this latest film in Spain, follows directly after shooting Match Point in London and marks another stage in the legendary directors cinematic career. Buzzine's Izumi Hasegawa sat down with Woody in Los Angeles, CA to try and find out what else has changed in Mr. Allen's professional and personal lives during the making of Vicky Cristina Barcelona and ended up with a dream conversation with a cinematic legend.
Izumi Hasegawa: I’m curious for you to talk about the inspiration you get from women. Can you talk about women and what they bring out in you, in terms of making films?
Woody Allen: The interesting thing is, and I’ve said this before – when I first started I could never write for women. When I wrote my first couple of films and did them, and when I used to write my cabaret act and I would write sketches for television, I could never write for women. I always wrote the male point of view. This went on and on for quite awhile. People even commented about it at the time. Then I got into Play it Again, Sam with Diane Keaton onstage. Keaton and I started dating, we started living together and became very close. Through some kind of Socratic osmosis or something, I started writing for women. I started writing for Diane, and I found I could write for women. Then I sort of only wrote for women. I wrote more and more for women, and I wrote for them all the time. I like women, I enjoy their company. The person I edit with is a woman, my editing assistants are all women, and my press people are all women. My producer is a woman. I just enjoy their company very much. I get a big kick out of them.
For some reason, I find them interesting to write about too – men occasionally, but really my heart is in it more when I’m writing for women. I don’t know why, but I remember when that transformation took place from an inability to write a credible woman. I couldn’t write anything but a one-dimensional woman. Then I was writing for women all the time. Over the years, I’ve written many women’s roles that turned out to be some of my most interesting roles. A bonus is that there are so many wonderful actresses out there; it’s much easier to get a woman for a role than it is a man. If you write a role, there are always a couple of women you can get for it, whereas with a guy, if you don’t get the one or two guys you want, it’s not so easy. There is a scarcity of guys, really, on that level. There are so many gifted women out there that are just waiting for an opportunity to work.
IH: Like Scarlett Johansson?
WA: Yeah, Scarlett was an accident. I had Kate Winslet for Match Point to the last week in pre-production, when she said she couldn’t do the picture, because she had worked continually and had spent no time with her child. She asked would I forgive her, and of course I understood that completely, and I didn’t know Scarlett from a hole in the wall. I thought she was too young to play the part. She was only 19 at the time. I was in a hole, I had to get somebody fairly quickly, and I knew that Scarlett was a great actress and a beauty. I didn’t know if she was really what I had written. I hired her and became totally captivated by her. I thought she could simply do anything. She was not only beautiful but also bright, amusing, charming and gifted. I’m very happy to work with her. Whenever there is a part that fits anything she could do, I would always call her and hope that she would be available for it, as I did with Keaton for years. I did that with Mia [Farrow]. I did many roles with her, thought she was a wonderful actress, and she never let me down. I think that the same will be true with Scarlett.
IH: As a writer, what are the challenges for you to write about three different culturally distinctive characters, in terms of creating the characters?
WA: I had the idea about two women going away on a summer thing someplace. Someone called from Barcelona and said, “Would you like to make a picture here? We’ll finance it.” That’s always the hardest part of making any picture, is getting the financing. Writing it, directing it, or anything else is easier than getting the financing for it, so I said sure, I would do it. I had no idea for anything for it, and then about a week or two later, I got a call from Penelope Cruz. I didn’t know her; she wanted to meet and she was in New York. I had only seen her in Volver and nothing else ever. I thought she was great in it, and she said that she knew I was doing a film in Barcelona and she would like to participate.
I started out with Barcelona, with Penelope, and in the back of mind I was going to go to Scarlett. Then I heard Javier [Bardem] was interested, so gradually it took shape. I was writing for these people. I was deliberately writing for these people. I didn’t know Rebecca Hall at all. Juliet Taylor, my casting director, discovered her. She said she was great, that I should read her and look at some film on her. I did and she was right. I put the thing together for the people, almost as I did it, and did the best I could. I relied on whatever knowledge I had. I’ve been to Barcelona several times in my life, but I didn’t have a vast knowledge of it.
When I got over there, the art director took me to all these places.You get help from people. Everybody on the crew cooperates and says,”They would never speak that way,” or “They would never go to this restaurant if they are 25 or 30 years old. They would go to this one.” So, gradually, you do it and it looks like you know Barcelona or you know London, when, in fact, you are faking. Everybody helps you a great deal. That is exactly how it emerged.
IH: Which was more challenging? Writing for a different culture or characters from a different generation than you?
WA: What happens is that you get a lot of help from people. I write the thing as best I can for the generation, or I just write it. They play it, and when they play it, they say, “We would really never say this. We would never go to that nightclub. We don’t do this anymore.” They would tell me and I would strike it, then ask, “What would you do?” Then I add it and let them do that thing instead. I never think in terms of writing for a culture or for a generation. I just write the story so it works. When you are doing it, you would be amazed how many people chime in with corrections – everyone from the cameraman to the guy delivering coffee. It could be the actor or actress. All that helps to focus the thing so it works by the time you finish, and it’s reasonably accurate.
IH: Working with two Spanish actors in Spain, is there anything you learned from that culture?
WA: They take themselves very seriously. Javier and Penelope are very serious actors. I always found that amusing. They are so great and, like most serious actors, like Robert De Niro, they think they are great because they do all that work. They are born great. They are great when they wake up in the morning. They don’t have to do all that work and they would still be great. I never rehearsed with any of the actors. I never talked to them about the plot or anything. I just show up and do it. I get a lot of great performances simply by hiring great people. Javier and Penelope were constantly talking about the plots, but not with me. They talked about it with each other. They were rehearsing all the time – their lines, they rehearsed themselves.
I found that amusing. They think that’s what is making them great. What is making them great is that they just are great. Javier could walk into this room, never having seen anything before, and act the part out. He would be charismatic and mesmerizing. It’s just built into him. It’s the same with Robert De Niro or Jack Nicholson. It’s just there for a lot of actors. I found that the Spanish actors took it very seriously. They were formal and serious about the work. I found that amusing, myself. In the end, it doesn’t bother me.
IH: When you were shooting, you always had a trove of fans. Did that make it complicated to shoot?
WA: It was very easy to shoot in Barcelona. There is a film community in Spain, some from Barcelona and some came from Madrid. There is a more active film community there, but it was a cinch. Most of them did not speak English, but a few did. I don’t speak Spanish. They knew how to light; they knew how to do all the crew work beautifully. You can see that the picture looks good. The cameraman was Spanish, and he did a beautiful job. He was as good as any cameraman in the world, wonderful, and he didn’t speak English. It didn’t matter. I’ve made a number of pictures with a Chinese cameraman who didn’t speak any English. I worked for 10 years with Carlos DePalma, who spoke just a tiny bit of English. That stuff is easy, but what is hard is getting a good script.
When a project fails, 90% of the time it’s that the script is no good. The actors are generally quite good. It’s rare that something doesn’t work because the actors have torpedoed you in some way. It’s rare that you directed it so badly that it doesn’t work. Directing is not rocket science. But if you have a bad script, then no amount of being Fellini or a great stylist or anything saves you. In the end, you have a flawed movie, a boring movie, or illogical story, or un-engaging story. Once I had the script and it was decent, the fact that nobody could speak English didn’t matter.
Penelope and Javier – I encouraged them to improvise all the time. They are great actors, and they improvised all over the place. I had no idea what they were saying. No idea. I could tell from the body language that clearly it was the scene I wrote in some way. It was not the words I wrote, but they were breaking up, or arguing over their emotional life, something. I never knew what they were saying until I got back to New York City and I was putting the titles in the picture. The person who did the titles was bilingual and told me. It was fine. It was not always what I wrote, by any means, often flamboyant flights of fancy they took, but it was fine. You can do it if you have a story to tell.
As long as it’s a decent story, then everybody has common sense about how to tell the story. If the script is not good, no amount of great acting, flashy direction or great camera work will ever bail you out. This I know from many years of being on both ends of these things.
IH: There were apparently many fans hanging around when you were trying to shoot in Barcelona? How did you deal with that?
WA: Yes, there were huge crowds hanging around. It was no problem at all. They were the most polite, sweet people. They would hang around, they didn’t bother us, and before a take, if I needed quiet, they would all get very quiet. They were totally cooperative. We had an enormous amount of cooperation from the city in every way. If you look at the end of the picture, you see all the credits of people who participated. People were giving us things for nothing left and right. They couldn’t have been sweeter. I was able to make the picture and, because of all the freebies, I could make it for the small budget I had.
I never had a lot of money. I make my pictures for approximately $15 million. Some go to $16M and some will be $14M but that’s the ballpark. We were able to make the picture for that, and the picture looks healthy because we got so much cooperation and free things. The town was great to us. The museum would open up for us. The crowds in the street, which were enormous… It was not like shooting in New York where you get a couple of drifters that watch and they are jaded and don’t care. We got hundreds and hundreds of nice people.
IH: The companies that financed this picture have offered you three more pictures. Can you address how that will guide you artistically?
WA: The company who did this picture is a very nice group of people who backed the film. I was putting together my next film and we spoke to them. They said they would love to back another film of mine. We had been talking to somebody else about doing three films. We said to them, “We’re on the verge of making a deal with these people for three films.” They said, “We’ll make three films with you.” I said, “That’s fine, but I can’t do three more films in Barcelona.” So they said, “You can make them anywhere in the world you want to make them. We just want to be the producers. We want to finance the films.” They were lovely people, we all had a very nice experience, and so I said “Sure.” They don’t have a studio system in Europe.
In the United States, they would be saying to me, “We’ll give you the money to make the film, but we’re not just bankers.” They are, in fact, just bankers, but they think they are not just bankers. They want to participate, cast, read the script: “This is a great script, but you have no second act.” This is stuff that they are utterly unqualified to judge, because even people that do this for a living have a hard time making those calls. They make them wrong all the time. The money people in the United States want to participate. I can get money in the United States if I want to let them read my script and sit in with me on casting, and I didn’t want to do that. In Europe, there is no studio system. They are just bankers. “We don’t know about that stuff. You make the film. You cast it, we don’t read the script. We just want to put up the money and make some money on it.” There are tax things and whatever mischief they get involved with, so it’s a pleasure.
Will it be fine if I make two pictures for them and they lose their shirt? Will they stay nice to me? Maybe they will, I don’t know, maybe not. Lots of times they start off with a lot of hugs and kisses: “We are artists, we love art.” Then you make a picture that tanks and they… I don’t know. My experience with these people has been positive so far, and they seem like lovely people. I have great faith in them.
IH: Vicky Cristina Barcelona is being called your sexiest movie yet. It seems like, in your early movies, you never had sex scenes. Can you talk about discovering sex at this point in your life?
WA: It’s just by chance. Everybody thinks that there is an agenda that I have. Maybe they think it’s certain psychological turning points in my life. That’s not really so. It just so happens that this story requires a certain amount of sensuality. There is a kissing scene – a scene between the two girls – that is brief, and there isn’t really a lot of sex in the picture. It’s nothing, really, that I’ve discovered – whatever is required. I just finished a picture with Larry David, Evan Rachel Wood, and Patricia Clarkson. There is sex in the movie. It’s a romantic comedy. It’s just by chance that the next film I thought of was a musical with sex, or a very sexual picture, or if I have an idea for what I felt was a brilliant pornographic comedy idea. If I had an idea for a family comedy – it’s just whatever idea I come up with. These naturally had a little passion, but not enough to speak of, really. I turn on the television set and see Show Girls on TV. Now that was clearly sexual. This one isn’t.
IH: Were you comfortable directing Scarlett and Javier in that scene?
WA: When they are kissing? They are two fabulous performers. They started kissing, and I thought I would be going very, very slow to make the scene extra long, beyond what you would think would be long. I wanted to have in and out of focus. They just kissed, and kissed. Then, when it was over, that was it. They went their own way and there was no real… Tthey are actors. They get paid. Kissing for a couple of minutes, I watch and say, “Okay, we’ll do it again.” Then it’s over and we move on to the next thing.
IH: Rebecca Hall’s character seemed a little like the roles you have played in the past. She is the voice of reason. When you were writing the character of Vicky, was that something you were thinking of – your voice?
WA: It’s funny you should ask me that. To me, it seems so outlandish. Apparently it’s not, though, because you are the third person to ask me that question. Years ago, when Mia saw Interiors, she insisted to me that I was the Mary Beth Hurt character, on the flimsy evidence that she was wearing a tweed sport jacket that I liked to wear. I was saying, “No, it’s not true, because her problem in the movie is that she can’t express herself artistically. She’s full of feeling and can’t get it out. I’ve always been able to write a little bit, or make jokes, I’ve never had that problem.”
As the years went by, people would say, “John Cusack is you,” or “This one is you…” so when I did Match Point, someone said that Jonathan Rhys Meyers was playing my role. I’m thinking, how can someone possibly come to that? In my wildest incarnation, I couldn’t play that role, be that character or think that way. The same here, not for a second would I think of myself in any relation to Vicky. I would have thought myself – and I don’t mean this because he’s charming and charismatic – in Javier’s role. I could see a funny scene of me getting up in a restaurant and trying to pick up two attractive women, not being successful at it, or getting in over my head. I could see Javier’s atheistic, existential point of view as one I’ve expressed many times.
No one has said, “Javier was kind of talking for you at times.” They think that the girl is speaking for me. I see it as absolutely not so, but it’s interesting that it keeps coming up, so I can only think I have a blind spot. It’s not like you’re the only crazy in the city. I have a blind spot and I don’t see it, but apparently it’s there for other people. I don’t see it in any way, but I can’t honestly say that my perspective on it is correct. I’m starting to lose confidence.
IH: You have been exploring relationships in all of your films. Have you found any answers?
WA: I haven’t found any answers that you would want to hear. [Laughs] At the end of this movie it’s very pessimistic, because even the cosmetics of the movie are up. Barcelona is beautiful, there is light, the music is pretty, and the actors and actresses are beautiful. In the end, Javier and Penelope can’t live with each other, and they are constantly dissatisfied. They can’t make it together. Scarlett is always suffering from chronic dissatisfaction. She wants something but has no idea what it is and she will always want something. She will never know what it is, and nothing will ever satisfy her because it’s really in her. That’s the problem. Rebecca Hall is marrying this guy, and she’ll have a fairly stable, acceptable life with no big highs or lows. It will be some version of what Patricia Clarkson has. Maybe less dramatic than that, or more maybe, but she’ll always feel there were missed things she didn’t have in her life.
I have a pessimistic view of relationships. My view has always been that you talk about it with your friends, you scheme, you plot, and you see psychoanalysts. You see marriage counselors, get medicated, do everything you can, but in the end, you have to luck out. It’s complete and total luck. You have all these exquisite needs, some woman has all her exquisite needs, and the odds of all those wires going together are very slim. If one of those wires is not there, it gets annoying and she gets dissatisfied, you get dissatisfied. So to get it all clicking in is a very happy accident. It does happen, because there are so many people in the world so, statistically, a certain amount of them luck out. They meet someone, fall in love, they are happy with that person, no real friction, but it’s luck. This is my observation. It can be argued but, if you ask me, I would say that’s what I’ve learned. All the advice, planning, self-help books, anything you do, dating services, you’ve got to get lucky. If you do, it’s great. Some people do, but you can see, by the divorce rate, the amount of relationships people go through and the amount of people in unhappy relationships that stay together because of inertia, because of children, fear of loneliness… There are very few really wonderful ones. You have to get lucky. I hope I haven’t depressed you.
IH: I want to ask about the copy line, “Life is the ultimate work of art,” the statue of you in Oviedo, also an artistic choice you made in the film: using an off-screen narrator who’s never really identified. That’s a great literary thing to do. Do you see film as literature?
WA: There are three questions; the first was the copy line. I have to disavow the copy line. Usually, when marketing people show you posters for your movie, your heart sinks because you think you have made a beautiful film, or at least tried to make a beautiful film and they usually show you something that is aimed, in the most heavy-handed way, at the lowest common denominator. Now on this picture, they showed me the ad and I thought it was beautiful. Just great. I was shocked that I was not going to have to send it back and say, “Please try again.” It was a beautiful ad – better than anything I had imagined. I never feel a copy line is necessary, but marketing people always throw one in there. I wasn’t even aware of the copy line. It’s meaningless to me; it has no relation to the film, and no relation to anything. It’s something to get the suckers in off the street. I wish it wasn’t in there. The poster is one of the nicest I’ve ever had. That’s how I feel about copy lines. They are always terrible. They never mean anything, never bring anybody in, they just satisfy the marketing people for some strange reason.
My statue in Oviedo is one of the great mysteries of western civilization. It’s a lovely town in Spain. I went there a couple of times and it’s beautiful. I went once years ago for something. Without asking me – I never did anything there, never saved anybody’s life – they said, “We are putting a statue of you up in town.” I thought it was a joke. Then, in the town, there is a statue of me. It’s a good statue, completely undeserved, but a bronze statue of me. I’ve got my sport jacket on, corduroy trousers… First I thought it was one of those things where I leave town and they take it in, then when Brad Pitt comes to town, they put his statue out. Why a statue of me? I’ve never done anything up there. I have a photograph of it at home with two feet of snow piled on my head. People keep stealing the glasses from it, and they are welded onto the statue. Guys come with blowtorches at night and they take the glasses off. I have been there where I’ve had half of my glasses off. They fixed it up this time when I was going there. It’s inexplicable. I don’t know what the connection is, like picking someone off the street. I just don’t understand, but they are nice people and I’m happy to go there. I don’t visit the statue much.
The third thing was the narrator. I primarily feel I’m a writer who only directs so my stuff is not mangled on the screen. I’m a writer. I always feel the narrative voice. I was a stand-up comic who always spoke to the audience. I write, and very often in my films I either talk to the audience, have a character talk to the audience, or have a narrator. I just feel the presence of the author all the time. I’m literary in that sense. When I thought of the story, I thought of it in that way, instinctively. I thought I was writing something. I wrote it and went out and got a narrator to do it, but I never conceived it in any other way. I’m a writer and that’s what I do. I direct because of that reason.
IH: At least one of the actors in this film said they were nervous when they learned they were working with you, because you are such an accomplished director. Do you have a technique for putting them at ease? Also, you said that Scarlett Johansson could do anything. That’s a high compliment and it’s rare. Is there a role you haven’t written for her that you want to see her do?
WA: First question: The actors should not feel ill-at-ease. I am the one that feels ill-at-ease. It’s maybe my ill-at-ease personality that makes them feel that way. I’m nervous to meet Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem. Also, there is a lot of nonsense that circulates about me; they come to believe I don’t like to speak to anybody. They say I’m reclusive. There was a thing in The New York Times Magazine last week – they did a feature on Matthew Goode, who I worked with in Match Point. He said, “I came into the audition and someone said, ‘Don’t shake hands with Woody; he doesn’t like to be touched.’ ” So where these things originate, I can’t imagine. I’m not incredibly social, but I’m not forbidding. I’m nervous around them.
I don’t really have a way of putting them at ease. I think what happens is that they are nervous before they come in. But after they meet me for one minute and they see I’m not a threat and not anything they’ve conceived, they see I’m a push-over and they can handle me effortlessly, they become relaxed. It’s nothing I do to make that happen. They see it, but I think my nerves, my shyness, could read as something that it is not.
As for Scarlett, I never think in terms of there is something I would like to write for someone. I will say that if I ever have a part that she could play, I would always go to her for it. I hope she would be available. I do think she is capable of anything. If you need dramatic, she’s dramatic. If you need a laugh, she can get a laugh. She can sing if you need it, she’s sexy, she’s intelligent. She is a great ace in the hole to have, and there are a lot of things she can do… and that face on the screen. She is so photogenic, it’s paralyzing. I would always try to use her if I could. There is no limit for her.
I now think there is no limit for Penelope either. She’s learning English much more. She is getting very fluid with her English. When I started with her she spoke it pretty well. Now she is getting completely bilingual. They will be writing more and more parts for her in English-speaking pictures. She will be able to score very heavily because she is a very charismatic actress.
IH: You are here in Los Angeles to direct an opera? What is the difference in directing, and will you work with Placido Domingo?
WA: I didn’t want to direct anybody else’s material before. I never directed a significant thing in the theatre live. The only live thing I directed were my own little one-act plays. I certainly never directed on opera; I’ve only been to about 15 of them in my life. I got this idea from a friend of mine. He’s been bothering me for a long time to direct an opera. Placido Domingo has spoken to me on a number of occasions to direct an opera. I always dodged it or slipped out of it. They said, “Look, this is a one-act opera that Puccini wrote, you just have to do the third one.” It’s a small cast, it’s a one-hour opera, and it’s only about ten people. No big chorus. They said, “You can do it, and we’ll help you.”
This was like three years ago, and so I said “Okay. You have to come to LA and do the opera, so tomorrow morning at 9:30 I start. I hope that the Puccini material is strong enough that I won’t get hurt. I don’t know if I can take that. There is some distance. It’s moving, personally, but I’ve got to do it and I’ll give it my best shot. I think it’s okay. It’s only 55 minutes, actually; I timed it. I have to keep it 55 minutes. I’m such a novice at it. I asked people, “When we rehearse, do we sing?” I’m still not sure how that works. In my films, there is no singing. So when I direct a scene, am I going to have to stop and wait for the guy to sing his whole thing before I move on? I don’t know what to expect. We had a wonderful set, and I’ll give it my best shot. I hope the material is so strong that they won’t see the flaws.
IH: How much of a part does the music of the score play in directing film for you?
WA: The music, to me, is always the most pleasurable part of the movie. You are finished cutting it, you watch, and there is no sound or music – it’s a little latent. Then suddenly you hear the recording, and I have everything from Beethoven to Louis Armstrong and anything I want. I can drop it in, and suddenly the movie gets a lift that is great. I picked out Spanish pieces that were very beautiful.
The main song, “Barcelona,” was a funny story. I get a million things in the mail every day. I don’t look at them; they are scripts, music and things. I’m not supposed to look at them. But I was running out to shoot and, just as I walked out, this recording had been slipped under my door. I took it with me, even though I shouldn’t. I usually throw them in a pile and my assistant returns them. I took it with me as something to play in the car. I put it on, and it was the opening song. I thought, “My God, I’m halfway through the picture, but this is the music I want for the picture.” We contacted the people and they were thrilled. They were not established or anything. They had nothing; they wanted exposure of the song. The song is very catchy. Everybody loves it, it’s a hit in Barcelona, and they are making a video of it there now. It was just by chance that it happened.
IH: You said you have a pessimistic view of love. For a writer and director who is so into the psychology of how people work, isn’t there a side to you that thinks people change and evolve?
WA: There is always the possibility that people will change. Real change is more rare. If you are a certain age, you are pretty much a variation of that your whole life. It’s conceivable that you will change, but it’s not likely. Rebecca is never comfortable, she’s never going to have an affair and cheat on her husband. She’s all nervous and full of anxiety. She changes her clothes a million times; she can’t decide if she should kiss him, go to bed with him, should she leave… So some people are not meant for adventure or adultery. There will always be that beautiful girl who all the guys run after, and she will get involved with the next poet, or a factory worker might be her next action. That won’t work out, so she’ll get involved with a swimmer, and the list will go on. I don’t hold high chances for people changing who they are, but again, I’m pessimistic. They could be correct and I could be wrong.
IH: What life lessons did you learn as a little boy that still serve as a strong source of inspiration, even now?
WA: I think that the biggest life lesson I learned as a boy, that has helped me and is still with me, is that you really have to discipline yourself to do the work. If you want to accomplish something, you can’t spend a lot of time hemming and hawing, putting it off, making excuses and figuring ways. You have to actually do it. I have to go home every single day, know where I am, what I’m doing, including 45 minutes of practice on my Clarinet because I want to play. I have to do it. I want to write, so I get up in the morning, go in and close the door, and write. You can’t string paper clips and get your pad ready, and turn your phone off and get coffee made. You have to do the stuff.
Everything in life turns out to be a distraction from the real thing you want to do. There are a million distractions, and when I was a kid, I was very disciplined. I knew that the other kids weren’t. I was the one able to do the thing, not because I had more talent, maybe less, but because they simply weren’t applying themselves. As a kid, I wanted to do magic tricks. I could sit endlessly in front of a mirror, practicing, because I knew if you wanted to do the tricks, you’ve got to do the thing. I did that with the Clarinet. When I was teaching, I did that with writing.
This is the most important thing in my life, because I see people striking out all the time. It’s not because they don’t have talent or because they don’t want to be, but because they don’t put the work in to do it. They don’t have the discipline to do it. This was something I learned myself. I also had a very strict mother who was no-nonsense about that stuff. She said, ‘If you don’t do it, then you aren’t going to be able to do the thing.” It’s as simple as that. I said this to my daughter: “If you don’t practice the guitar, when you get older, you wouldn’t be able to play it. It’s that simple. If you want to play the guitar, you put a half-hour in everyday, but you have to do it.”
This has been the biggest guiding principle in my life, when I was younger, and it stuck. I made the statement that 80% of life is showing up. People used to always say to me that they wanted to write a novel, and the couple of peoplewho did it were 80% of the way to having something happen. All the other people struck out without ever getting that pack. They couldn’t do it. Once you do it, you write your script or novel, you are more than halfway towards something good happening. What I am saying is that it’s a life lesson.
The Weinstein Company's 'Vicky Cristina Barcelona' is in theaters now.