Based on a short story by T. Coraghessan Boyle follows Lonnie (Leonard) along the downslope of his dead-end editing job and through the emotional desert of his marriage to fading flower-girl Clover (Jess Weixler). Dedicated idealists and new parents as well, Lonnie and Clover struggle against the expectations of advancing age. But between selling out to the corporate workplace and clinging to rock-and-roll daydreams, both succumb to an inertia shattered one day by Lonnie's ill-advised impulse to lie his way out of work.
Handsomely shot and exquisitely acted, The Lie (which premiered at this year's Sundance Film Festival, where a longer version of this interview was previously published) marks the latest milestone for the 36-year-old perhaps best known for inhabiting indie sensations from The Blair Witch Project to Humpday. Leonard spoke with Movieline about taking the next creative step.
Congratulations on The Lie. What led to this as your feature directorial debut?
Oh, God. Its tender, middle-of-the-road heart? [Laughs] I'm totally joking. It all started with T.C.'s story. I am a guy who doesn't have ideas too very often, so when I do, I stick to them like a dog with a bone. I read that story and just immediately knew that not only did I want to see a movie made out of that story, but I wanted to be the one to help facilitate it. It just really... I don't know. It was just one of those things that spoke to me specifically, one of those things that spoke to me generationally. It was a story that addressed really big issues without being too touchy-feely or didactic or giving you a third-life-crisis analysis/bludgeoning. It was very funny, it was very heartfelt. And I felt like I knew the people in it. It all started from there.
How long ago did you read it?
I guess in making-a-movie terms, not that long ago. Maybe less than two years ago?
What did you see eating this guy that compelled you to not only direct but play the role?
I often wonder whether I'm just masking my own vanity with this answer, but in general I don't think it's a great idea to direct yourself. If somebody else had come to me with the proposal of them acting and directing this piece, I would have told them it was asinine and steered them away as quickly as I could. But look: I did know we were going to have to make it on a pretty tight schedule and on a pretty modest budget. And I think if you read the piece, it's pretty clear that you have to hit a pretty specific tone or it doesn't work. If it veers too far to the comedic, you kind of lose complete empathy for the character. And if it veers too far to the dramatic, people feel like they're being preached to, and it loses its entertainment value. So there was really a balance that we had to strike, and to some extent, it was almost the utilitarian decision I could have made, casting myself in it. I felt like being in that position, I knew in my head and my heart where I wanted to hit, and maybe had less confidence in steering another actor to that that place than just stepping in and doing it myself.
What exactly do you think is happening with Lonnie? You just mentioned the third-life crisis; there are some work and marriage issues...
I think he's going through what most people go through when they hit a certain age, which is that moment of reckoning where you realize where you intended to go and where you wound up are two completely different places. And you're kind of standing at this precipice, and you've got a choice to make: You can either rail against that and try to untrench yourself from the decisions you've made -- that put you in a position you don't like -- or you can accept it. I think Lonnie is really at that crossroads where he's not willing to accept it, but he also has absolutely no clue how to change it.
Without giving anything away, I'll be interested in people's reactions to Lonnie and Clover's climactic decision -- they're kind of inspirational, but kind of... crazy? How did you view it?
Maybe a little bit of both? At the end of the day I did not consider the ending of my movie to be the point where these two characters have made the most responsible life choices. I think that there's something... [Pauses] I knew I didn't want to have a hopeless ending, so I think the feeling that we were really attempting to kind of imbue into the end of this film is that sometimes our lives aren't as galvanized into a single track as we assume they are. So at the end of the movie, these guys make a different decision. That doesn't mean that the different decision is going to be right or any better, or that they won't wind up back in the same spot. But through a chain of both mishaps and self-analysis where they acknowledge that what they've been doing is not working. Their idea of going back to this past dream of who they wanted to be? I don't know if that actually works. Most of the time it doesn't. But: You've got two characters who felt kind of tethered to the life they've chosen, and at least at the end of the story they've acknowledged there's another option.
And they do so through a very intriguing confrontation. How did you approach that moment as an actor and a director alongside Jess Weixler?
I guess very simply, to me, in terms of structuring the story when we were originally writing it out. And then as we were careening toward it in the arc of the film, the intention was always: Here's a movie about a group of people who, for better or for worse, live with a certain level of dishonesty in their lives -- most of the time. To varying degrees, I hope that people can relate to that. I can certainly relate to that. Whether you're a liar and you go around telling these overt lies, or you've made a decision that omitting certain truths makes your life easier... That one I think more often than not we're guilty of. So you've got a story acknowledging these various levels of dishonesty that these people live with on a day-to-day basis. And the movie is set up to present a situation whereby the stakes are so high that there is no choice but to tell the truth. If you wanted to look at it structurally like that, it's a movie where people lie for two acts and tell truth for one.
It's kind of hard to believe now, but your relationship with Sundance goes back over a decade now, right? To The Blair Witch Project?
Actually, my very first time at Sundance I was there as an editorial photographer for Black Book in '98 -- the year before Blair With Project.
What are some of your highlights from attending over the years, and what did it mean to debut The Lie there?
Sundance for me started out, when I was there in the late '90s, as a club that I really wanted to join. [Laughs] I was surrounded by all these people who really inspired me to make films. You know -- the Hal Hartleys, the Nick Gomezes, the Allison Anderses. I didn't grow up on a diet of '70s cinema; I grew up on multiplex cinema. And so really, my first exposure to independent film was through the American independent directors of the early '90s. I guess it's like a kid who want to be a musician and has a lot of attitude and a lot of angst -- but no skills -- hears punk rock and feels like, "OK, there's a place for me in that, because it's more about what I think and I feel." It's not as gilded. And that's what I thought of independent cinema at that time.
But I was also a kid in my early '20s, and very much just showed up as a fan as much as anything. And then Blair Witch happened, and that really allowed me to get a small toe in the door and continue to work and mentor with people and continue to learn. And it's really been this really wonderful touch-base over the years. I've been back with three or four acting projects. I had my directorial debut -- which was a short film [The Youth in Us] -- go there in 2005. We were back with Humpday in 2009, and back there with my narrative feature debut in 2011. I guess where that's really changed is that much like you can go back to your elementary school and really have that sense memory feeling of what it was like to be a kid there, there are hills and venues and theater staircases at Sundance that I very palpably remember. I remember what it was like to be 12 years younger and show up not knowing anyone or really anything, just that I wanted to find a place in this community. To some extent I still have mentors there. I still feel like I have a long way to go. But at the same time I still have a ton of peers there. I have a lot of solidarity and relationships with other filmmakers who had films at Sundance this year. I feel like I am very much finally part of that community, and that's a pretty great feeling.
This is an edited version of an interview that was previously published during the 2011 Sundance Film Festival. Read Movieline's review of The Lie here.
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