Movieline

Chris Weitz on Twilight Nods, Oscar Hopes, and the Politics of A Better Life

About three years ago, in the same year he landed the gig directing the second film in the Twilight film franchise, Chris Weitz fell in love with a script about a poor illegal immigrant and single father chasing the American dream in East Los Angeles. Entitled The Gardener, the project would feature no stars, shoot on location in gang-affiliated L.A., and would never in a million years enjoy a hundred million dollar opening weekend. Weitz had to do it.

There were plenty of reasons not to make The Gardener (retitled A Better Life), which opens in limited release this Friday and may be an early awards-season contender, but Weitz had just as many reasons to do it, thus adding another surprise turn to his eclectic career. One was the story itself: A Better Life follows hard-working undocumented gardener Carlos (played beautifully and with tremendous grace and feeling by Mexican actor Demián Bichir, pictured above with Weitz) whose life savings and only hope for a future are lost in an instant when his truck is stolen. Desperate but clinging to hope, Carlos traverses the intimidating terrain of Los Angeles with his teenage son, Luis (José Julián), who only then discovers how much his father has sacrificed to give him the chance to succeed.

Movieline spoke with Weitz prior to his well-received debut at the L.A. Film Fest about how his Twilight stint made A Better Life possible, the isolation of living in Los Angeles, why he considers A Better Life to be an apolitical film that simply sits "near" the hot button issue of immigration in California, and which of his stars he thinks deserves a nomination at next year's Academy Awards.

Back while you were working on New Moon word came out that you wanted to next do a smaller film called The Gardener, which was renamed A Better Life. When did your passion to film this begin?

I was shown the script, which was then called The Gardener, and I immediately wanted to make it. It was the best thing that I'd read in 20 years of working here. It's written by Eric Eason, it's an amazing script. However, at one point I realized I needed to pay my mortgage, and so it was going to have to wait for a little while because I was going to have to live without really getting paid very much while making this movie for a year and a half. And also, to be honest, I was intrigued by the idea of making New Moon; I really liked the actors, I thought it'd be an interesting way to get back on the horse after Golden Compass had kind of thrown me.

Was that really the feeling you had after Golden Compass?

It was, because I felt that the movie that I wanted to make and the movie that the studio wanted were two different things. I wanted a film that was very faithful to Phillip Pullman's book, and the studio -- and it's in their right because it's their movie -- wanted a summer blockbuster, or a Christmas blockbuster, I suppose. And it ended up getting re-cut, and that was really devastating to me. So New Moon was kind of me doing what I thought was a very faithful book [adaptation] and getting back on track. But then the next thing to do was The Gardener, which I had to do; I sort of had to get it out of my system because it's kind of a hauntingly good script.

Your career has been a fascinating one to watch, since the beginning. For example, I first saw you in Chuck & Buck.

[Laughs] Wow! One of the few, the proud. Well, it was very strange; I read this article where my career was described as "schizophrenic," and I always like to do something different than the one that came before. The first thing that my brother and I did before directing American Pie, before it had come out, was to act in Chuck & Buck. We were like, "Let's do something really weird and uncompromising." I always like to do something different from the last time, but also I've never been a gigging director. I've never had something waiting in the hopper -- this is the first time that's actually happened -- and I don't develop a bunch of projects at once and choose whichever one seems to be working best. So it's a very inefficient way I have of making decisions and making movies, but what works for me in the end is making the movie that I feel I must make.

Many directors might see a Twilight gig as a stepping stone to getting bigger and bigger films, but you sort of did the opposite following New Moon, which was interesting, and it's your second film in a row at Summit. What's the secret of the relationship you have here?

I didn't have the Inception kind of thing in my mind, that Dark Knight was going to allow me to do. I had A Better Life, that New Moon was going to allow me to do -- not so much because it was a quid pro quo, because Summit didn't see the script for The Gardener until we were halfway through New Moon. They just liked it. I said, "You do understand that I'm not going to do anymore vampire movies?" And they said, "Yeah, we get it, it's OK -- we love this script, let's do it!" I think there was just this degree of trust established between me and Summit, whom I've known for a long time. I've known the people there for a long time, Patrick Wachsberger and Rob Friedman and Eric Feig, and they trust that I can deliver what I say I'm going to when I show them a script that they like, and I trust them in terms of keeping their promises and what they want, and also how avidly they're going to try to market something.

I live in L.A. myself, but I came to a new realization of how vast and isolated Los Angeles is while watching A Better Life. What is it about that quality that makes this such a specific L.A. story?

I think it has something to do with the way L.A. was constructed, and with the breakdown of public transit early on in L.A.'s modern history. So we live literally in these bubbles, our cars, and we get from point A to point B. It's a very nodal city. We sort of pass by everything else at 40 miles per hour, and in doing so we miss so much of the color that defines other people's lives, and the life that we could experience if only we slowed down to take a look at it. L.A. is really a series of these microclimates, parallel universes that operate independently of one another. The people of Boyle Heights are equally unconscious of what's going on in West L.A. To them, Boyle Heights is their Los Angeles -- that's L.A. There's a montage in the movie which is constructed to show the distance, both in space and in time and in cultural terms, from Malibu to East L.A., going through all of these varied neighborhoods. And it's rather melancholy, too, because you see everything people miss out on. The experience of making this film was fantastic and eye-opening and mind-expanding because a whole new city was opened up to me.

Which part of the city do you live in?

I live in Malibu.

Aha!

Let me just come out of the closet on that one. I like to call it "Topanga Adjacent," because it sounds hipper. [Laughs] But really, I live where Carlos [the film's protagonist] goes to work. And so East L.A. is geographically distant from me, but actually all I have to do is hop on the 10, to the 110, to the 101, and I'm at Homeboy Industries, where my friends Father G and Hector Verdugo work, and I am in East L.A. -- in Mexican L.A. More people, I think, should take the time to go there and experience it. I think L.A. is sort of a bellwether of the way that the country is heading. With gated communities and larger and larger excerpts, we are losing touch with one another.

Along those lines, it's been said by your producers that A Better Life is not a political film, and yet the very act of making your protagonist an illegal immigrant sets up the audience to sympathize with his plight.

Well, the movie camera is inherently sympathetic; unless you dress someone up as Darth Vader and play scary music, you're actually going to take an interest in the person who's in front of you. So in that regard, we can't make a movie about an undocumented immigrant without it being in some way viewed as political. But to me the real importance about this is the love between father and son, which can't find its way in the beginning of the movie and finds its way toward the end. We're not trying to be cute by saying the movie isn't political, it's really that we didn't have a political aim in mind. This is just a great story to us that happens to rest next to a hot button issue. But if we'd really been keen on making this movie very political, we would have shot it differently, I think, inasmuch as we would have demonized the authorities more, but to me they're just as worthy of sympathy as the undocumented immigrants in the film. And I think we'd have a different approach to publicizing the film; I'm sure we could get Rush Limbaugh to say how much he hates this film...

And maybe he will!

Maybe he will, but we're not going out of our way. You can get a lot of press by shocking and angering people, but we're really more concerned with these performances by Demian and Jose and how that affects people.

It really is beautiful to watch the bond between their characters grow and develop over the course of the film, and as they traverse the terrain of Los Angeles their story evokes the immediate influence of Bicycle Thieves. To what extent was that film instrumental here?

I mean, that's one of the greatest and most beloved movies ever made, so I've been very leery to use it in the same sentence as my film, because that's kind of blasphemy to me. I have a tremendous amount of respect for the classical cinema. And of course the whole movie, in a way, is a nod to Bicycle Thieves. There are some differences here; the son is older, so the friction between father and son is much greater and is a theme that runs throughout the movie. And the father's inability to express himself to his son is an important element.

What's so powerful about reflecting the plotting of Bicycle Thieves is that throughout the course of their journey together through the city, Luis is really able to see, for the first time, what his father's life is like.

The veil is lifted from in front of his eyes. He knows what he knows, and in many ways he knows more than his father does about gangs, about the modern world. His father keeps his head down and works. And in some ways, Jose's character Carlos knows that he is not going to make it in the Anglo world, and that kills him. Or at least, he thinks he knows that. But what Luis has got wrong is that he has no respect for his father's work and his father's sacrifice, and within the heart of every cynic -- and I think many teenagers are, by nature, cynics -- there is still this bud of hope, and his father somehow manages to keep that alive.

How did you find those two? Demián's performance in particular feels like a potential awards contender.

Yay! Well, I would like to get Demián nominated, I think it's an extraordinary performance. He is a big star in Mexico, and I saw him in Che and then watched some of his Mexican films and thought, "This guy is amazing -- he has to be the Gardener." For me, the secondary advantage was that his face wasn't instantly recognizable to everybody in America. When you cast somebody like Benicio del Toro or Javier Bardem, you also cast every other movie that they're in, every other character that they've ever played, to an audience that's familiar with them, and that can be a hindrance. So he was always my guy. José, we had a Mexican casting director as well as Joseph Middleton, who is the casting director my brother and I always work with, and she had seen José in an audition for something else and brought him in. And he was just extraordinarily naturally talented and smart and responsive. And he knows what he's talking about. He grew up in East L.A. and he took three buses to get to our auditions; it was a five-hour round trip for him to get to auditions.

And he was 16 years old at the time?

Yes. It means something to him. There are a multiplicity of stories that could spring from the people I've met while making this film.

I noticed during the opening credits crawl of A Better Life that you had a number of key crew that had done New Moon as well -- your composer Alexandre Desplat, your music supervisor Alexandra Patsavas, even your DP, Javier Aguirresarobe. What brought them back to work on this with you?

Along the way, if you are lucky enough to have a long-ish career you get to meet people with whom you feel really simpatico. All of them individually became enamored of the script, they weren't just going to do it for me. Javier is one of the world's great cinematographers and brought this fantastic outsider's perspective to Los Angeles. Alexandre is a huge composer and was able to give some of his free time to this movie. Alexandra Patsavas locked down all of these great bands, including eventually Ozomatli, who are like the prototypical great L.A. band.

Between the score and the soundtrack, the musical identity of the film is really vibrant, but there's a wide range of flavors. What kind of sound were you going for?

Yeah, it's quite varied -- there's a lot of Latino rap, there's reggaeton, there's narcocorrido, which is this scary music which sounds like mariachi music but is actually about people being shot and beheaded.

I've heard of it -- songs dedicated to various drug lords and such.

Yes. So when Carlos is in the club and they're playing all this funny-sounding, cute music, the lyrics are actually about people being killed.

In addition to opening A Better Life this summer, you're also producing American Reunion with your brother. We've seen pretty much the entire original cast return for this, but is Natasha Lyonne also coming back?

You know what, I am so frickin' clueless at the moment because I've been doing all the work on here, I'm not sure if she is. I sure hope so. I saw Natasha a while ago, and you know, she went through a tough time but she's better. She seemed very well when I saw her, and it was great to see her.

A Better Life is in limited release Friday, June 24. Read Movieline's review here.