Every now and then, while I’m watching a film, I’ll become unintentionally physically demonstrative. What I mean is that I’m not trying to draw attention to myself; I don’t want to have people around me hear me audibly sigh; I’m not looking for the person next to me to notice my head drop into my hands or my much broader than it needs to be shift in my seat. And yet, if you were my friend who had the displeasure of attending Steve Buscemi’s new film Interview with me a week ago at a special screening (which proved to be in large part for the film’s friends, cast and crew) at BAM, you would have seen my somewhat uncontrollable agitation in all its … uhm … glory. At one point, she turned to me and asked, “How are you doing?” I answered, “I’m in pain,” and she responded, “Yeah, and we’re only an hour in.” Thankfully, Interview is only 80-odd minutes long. Unfortunately, after a somewhat promising and intriguing beginning, it steadily devolves into the annoying experience it is.
Before I continue describing why I consider Interview to be much more than a misfire, let me mention a few things:
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First, let me mention something positive: Sienna Miller is as brilliant as she can be in this role. I was truly impressed with her. While I in no way mean to insinuate that Miller is identical to her character Katya, I’m sure her own experience being on the unfortunate side of celebrity news informed her performance. She’s captivating throughout, even when her Katya’s actual actions and behavior are contributing to the film’s demise.
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Second, I have not seen the original version by the late (and tragically murdered) Dutch director Theo van Gogh. I’m quite curious to do so, however, and not because I think that European cinema is automatically better than American. However, at the post-screening Q&A, it was quite fascinating to hear screenwriter David Schechter describe all elements they felt they needed to change to make the film for an American audience, aside from the simple move to New York. For instance, they needed to “open it up.” The Dutch version apparently all takes place in the actress’ loft, and they felt the audience wouldn’t buy a journalist being invited to a popular actress’ home like this. Second, Americans need more plot, and van Gogh’s film cared more about emotion than story, so they had to add plot elements here and there. Without delving too deeply into either of these explanations or belaboring the point with other apparent changes, all I can do is report my reaction: each of the things they changed seemed to be the focal points of this film’s major problems. I’d love to see the Dutch film, but it’s not yet available on DVD, at least not in the US.
