Director Nic Roeg Takes Control

Roeg's first film, the avant garde (even by today's standards) Performance, was the very height of fashion when it arrived like a lightning bolt on the psychedelicized scene of the late '60s. It was a favorite film to see on acid back then, though the film itself was enough to trip you out. Gender ambiguity, hallucination, gangsters, violence.

"There is only one gunshot in Performance, [but] people talk about it as if it was a very violent film," says Roeg. "At the time, people said it was sick and it was horrible. Now, people get shot and they get up, they get the shit beat out of them, and they go back to work the next day. I was, in fact, very conscious of the huge responsibility involved in filming someone being shot. When I was the cinematographer on Petulia, I was shooting in a hospital in San Francisco, and the elevator opened and this guy, this handsome, strapping guy came in, all wasted. When he got out of the lift, I asked the doctor what happened to him, and he said, 'Oh, a gunshot wound in the liver, it's terminal.' When I made Performance, I wanted to show that horror, to let people see that it's more than just bang-bang-bang. We are born in violence, we are violent creatures and we have to understand that. But once we start to relish violence, then we are lost."

I switch to the subject of censorship. "Your movies have always been right on the edge sexually, Nic," I say. "And now there's a lot more sex on screen, but there's still something about your work that seems to push it even further than anyone else's. And that seems dangerous in these times."

Roeg paces in front of the couch. "Oh, I've been through all kinds of censorship. Lax censorship and strict censorship and then lax again. So, all this doesn't surprise me too much. One must realize that it's a sociological phenomenon. And in one form or another, it will be with us forever because censorship is just another form of control. It's rather about taste, isn't it? At some point, the whole country decides that they have the same taste, and you don't! When the '60s and the '70s created all that change, those people who are in control now must have felt terribly outside it all. Now, it's their turn. It's all wrapped up in guises of morality. Don't Look Now had terrible trouble with the censors then. It almost seems tame now, doesn't it?"

Actually, no. Don't Look Now is still one of the most disturbing films ever made. Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland were so believable as the emotionally distraught and grieving parents that their languid scenes of lovemaking were all the more shocking.

"Well," says Roeg, warming to the subject, "you don't have to be a rocket scientist to shoot a f*ck. What's harder to capture is love. Sex is the foundation of every emotion. When a kid asks you, 'Why am I here?' I guess you have to say, 'To make another you, or to make the world better for another you.' Sex is such a basic act, but it's very difficult to get on film. It's a difficult choice to make, and it shouldn't be taken lightly. We all have sexual hang-ups, it's such an exposure of ourselves to another person. We're just never sure that the other person feels the same way. It's the hardest to act, and horribly difficult to direct."

I try to broach the next subject tactfully. You see, there are those in Hollywood who say that Theresa Russell's success as an actress has been severely limited because of her work with her husband. Others say outright that Roeg is ruining her career. She's made six films with Roeg, counting Cold Heaven, and none of them has made a dent at the box office. "Do you think Theresa would do better, or differently, if she worked with other directors..." I ask, easing into this discussion. But Nic gets right to the point: "Oh, that's such bullshit. That's just someone trying to lead someone else's life or work. Maybe they're disapproving of what that work has to offer. Essentially, it's like I'm running a repertory company. It's not that unusual in the theater. You select a play by what you think would be suitable for your actors. Think of Theresa as the most important actor in my rep company. I like women in film. I like women in general, but I especially like to show them on film. They are not ciphers. There just isn't that much latitude for them these days in movies. Theresa is an actress. These days she can play someone's wife or stand starry-eyed and look at her lover, or she can carry the f*cking movie, like she does in Cold Heaven. Which would you choose?"

Just at that moment, the door swings open. The kids and the nanny pile in and Theresa follows, steaming after a long run. "Well, you guys look like you're up to no good," she says, and I blush as if she's right. She brings in drinks (martini for Nic, seltzer for me) but refuses to engage the tape recorder. "No, this is about Nic," she demurs. "You two just continue gossiping." We move into the den, where pictures of Nic and Theresa and friends from movie sets and home in England line the wall. In one, a very young and sexy Donald Sutherland stares out with amusement.

"I always heard rumors," I say, "that Sutherland had serious misgivings about doing Don't Look Now. What was the real story?"

"Oh, this is great," Roeg says, rubbing his hands together and suppressing a giggle. "Donald was supposed to do another film and Julie Christie was working for the McGovern campaign so they couldn't do Don't Look Now. Then the movie got postponed, McGovern got trounced, and we thought we were all set. But Donald was very nervous and he wanted to keep having all these discussions with me about what the film meant. He said he didn't feel comfortable with the way ESP was portrayed in the film, and he wanted to know if we could talk about it and possibly change it. And I said, 'No, this is the way the film will be shot.' He finally said, 'Okay, I'll do it.' And we never had a problem with it after that. And, of course, he turned in one of the most marvelous, most memorable performances in the world. I always told him to let things happen, not to bother them to pieces."

Shortly after that, Nic realizes he and Theresa are running late for an appointment, so he walks me out to my car. And then, as I'm starting up the engine, he asks once more about my domestic situation. He just can't seem to help it. I assure him that everything's fine, but he offers some last minute advice. "Relationships are fragile," he says. "I guess that's why there are so many amateur shrinks out there and so many call-in radio shows. 'He takes me for granted,' or 'She doesn't understand me.' To have total satisfaction from your work or from your mate, that's just impossible. You hear people say, 'What are you thinking, darling?' Isn't that the loaded question of all lovers? And you say, 'Oh, I was thinking of you.' But what you don't say is, 'I was thinking of divorcing you, darling.' You have to keep all this in mind, Martha. You have to realize what's going on at all times. So, take care. Keep in touch."

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Martha Frankel wrote "Hollywood Cooties" for our October issue.

Photography by: Michael Tighe/Visages

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