Aug. 24, 2005 - Issue #514: Mysterious Skin
The Araki insurgency
Bad-boy director Gregg Araki grows up with haunting Mysterious Skin
The characters in Gregg Araki’s new film Mysterious
Skin include a predatory, pedophilic Little League coach, an
emotionally damaged teenaged boy who’s convinced he was abducted by a
UFO when he was eight years old, another emotionally damaged teenaged boy who
becomes a gay hustler, and that boy’s sad, desperate middle-aged johns.
While there are moments of great beauty in it, the film is also painful,
haunting and upsetting in its portrayal of the aftereffects of child sexual
abuse. Araki doesn’t shy away from including some fairly graphic scenes
of gay male sex, as well as a brutal scene in which Neil, the male
prostitute, gets beaten up by one of his “dates.”
In other words, Mysterious Skin is not exactly what you’d call typical
multiplex fare, which is why Araki—the bad-boy director whose
nihilistic, outrageously campy, often juvenile films The Doom Generation, The
Living End and Totally F***ed Up put him in the vanguard of the “New
Queer Cinema” movement of the early ‘90s—is a little amazed
that people are calling it his most accessible film yet. “It’s
hardly what I was expecting would happen when I set out to make it,”
Araki says via e-mail from the Los Angeles offices of Desperate Pictures, his
production company. (True to his in-your-face directing style, he’s an
all-capper.) “At screenings, I’ve had my usual devoted Doom
Generation/Nowhere fans coming up to me telling me how much they love the
film, but also grandmothers in their 60s, super-hetero Mormon guys, women of
all age ranges and walks of life. I think the film really touches a universal
chord, and despite some tough scenes and challenging subject matter, people
really relate to the emotional journey the film takes you on.”
An adaptation of Scott Heim’s acclaimed 1995 novel, Mysterious Skin has
many of the hallmarks of Araki’s past work: a casual, matter-of-fact
approach to gay sexuality; an affection for trashy pop culture artifacts (the
film opens with an image of a boy smiling rapturously as Froot Loops rain
down on his face); a fondness for casting TV sitcom stars in unexpected,
image-subverting roles. But there’s a new seriousness to Araki’s
filmmaking—the characters aren’t cartoons this time out, but
complicated, multilayered, suffering human beings, and the presence of Joseph
Gordon-Levitt (best-known until now as one of the aliens on 3rd Rock From the
Sun) in the pivotal role of Neil is no smirky stunt, like the cameos by
Lauren Tewes and Christopher Knight in The Doom Generation. On the contrary,
Gordon-Levitt gives an astonishingly rich, subtle, charismatic performance
that conveys the pain Neil has carried around with him for half his life
without reducing him to a one-dimensional victim. There’s an
extraordinary scene between Neil and a lesion-covered john (played with
exquisite delicacy by veteran character actor Billy Drago) that displays a
level of tenderness and emotional intimacy you’d never have guessed
either Gordon-Levitt or Araki was capable of.
Here’s the rest of my conversation with Gregg Araki.
Vue Weekly: When you read Scott Heim’s novel, did you immediately know
you wanted to make a movie out of it? Did you have a clear vision of how you
could adapt it, or were there scenes that you really had no idea how
you’d translate them to film?
Gregg Araki: I first read Scott’s novel back in 1995, but it took me
several years to figure out a way to actually make it into a film. It was
imperative to me that the child actors playing eight-year-old Brian and Neil
be protected from the adult content and subject matter—but at the same
time, those scenes with the young boys are crucial to the cumulative
emotional impact of the story. After experimenting with subjective camera and
point-of-view in other projects, I was able to devise a strategy using
point-of-view camera, careful editing and storyboards that could get me the
shots I needed without the young boys having to know what the story was
about. (Their parents, of course, had read the whole script and I discussed
how the scenes would be shot in detail with them.) So the young actors, Chase
Ellison and George Webster, were able to perform their scenes, emotional beat
to emotional beat, without really knowing the full story. Chase and George
had separate scripts with them which allowed me to get the shots I needed. It
never ceases to amaze me how natural and nuanced the young boys’
performances are—especially since I know, as the director who was there
on set, that they don’t even know what they’re reacting to.
VW: What do you think is the most significant thing your involvement added to
the story? What part of the novel did it pain you the most to have to leave
out?
GA: The film is, of course, tighter and the action is more compressed than
the novel, which has more time to ramble and develop characters and
situations. But it’s very, very faithful to the book and I really
wanted to preserve as much of the incredible story that Scott created as
possible. In a weird way, the story is almost ideally suited to the
directness and intimacy of the cinematic medium. The power of the novel is
that it is told in a series of first-person accounts of what Brian and Neil
go through, and in that subjectivity, it sheds a light on a world you could
never even imagine. In the past, most clichéd “TV-movie”
depictions of this subject would show a shot of a closing door and violins
playing on the soundtrack just as the abuse starts to happen. But Mysterious
Skin puts the audience in the place of the kids—we see the world and
all that happens through their eyes. That’s what makes it so
devastating—just as the young protagonists are powerless over the
events that happen, the audience sitting there in the dark is also in a
similar state of emotional vulnerability..
VW: You edited the film as well, and you’ve given it some very unusual,
“soft” editing rhythms. I don’t know how to describe it
technically, but it’s as though, when you cut from Neil’s
storyline to Brian’s storyline, you pause and take a little breath
first before gently switching over. Am I imagining things, or is that an
effect you were consciously trying to achieve?
GA: The melancholy, measured pacing and style were all really straight out of
the book, and my number-one priority was always to be faithful and true to
Scott’s original vision—the contrast between the aesthetic beauty
of how the book was written and the darkness of the subject matter is what
makes the novel so riveting. So I told my DP and my designers that I wanted
Mysterious Skin to be “the most beautiful film ever made.” All
the imagery is very carefully lit, composed, colour-designed, edited, et
cetera. Plus there’s the unbelievably gorgeous score composed by
ambient legend Harold Budd and ex-Cocteau Twin Robin Guthrie. So the movie
becomes this dreamy, otherworldly experience—like a great Wong Kar-Wai
or Terrence Malick film.
VW: It seems appropriate to set this story in the ’80s; in the present
day, UFO abductions just don’t seem as potent or scary a cultural image
compared to 15 or 20 years ago when all those Whitley Streiber books were on
the bestseller lists. Are alien abductions no longer a resonant metaphor for
our collective fears?
GA: I think they’re a beautiful metaphor for that kind of powerless
feeling one has when something much larger than oneself just takes over.
That’s why the scene with little Brian on the roof staring up at the
UFO is one of my favourite scenes in the film. It’s like a
visualization of this huge, monumental thing totally dominating and taking
over little Brian’s entire life. We purposefully designed the UFO so it
would look like a kind of cheesy “flying saucer”—the kind
of spaceship an eight-year-old boy would conjure up in his imagination. I
love the way it’s so gigantic and he’s so small and
helpless—it’s a great pictorial representation of what’s
going on with Brian psychologically.
VW: Do you think of your depiction of the Little League coach as
“sympathetic”? His behaviour is obviously very predatory, but
there’s something haunting about Bill Sage’s performance that
makes it hard to simply write him off as nothing more than a monster.
GA: Bill Sage does a phenomenal job with an obviously very difficult role.
One of the things I love most about the book is the way Scott gives depth and
humanity to all the characters—the coach, the tricks Neil sleeps with,
even the smallest supporting characters are real human beings with flaws,
insecurities and human frailties. That makes Mysterious Skin so much richer
and truthful and powerful than if it were a simplistic tale of
black-and-white good guys and bad guys. Estimates run as high as one in four
children are victims of sexual abuse. One in four! And the way that abuse
happens is exactly how it’s presented in the film—it’s not
some creepy monster in a van that snatches your kid at a playground.
It’s someone the kid knows and trusts—a coach, uncle, stepfather,
priest. People want to pretend this kind of abuse doesn’t exist. Well,
sadly, it does exist and it happens every day, all over the world.
Unfortunately, there are no easy solutions to this problem, but at least the
film sheds a light on the subject and lets people talk about it.
V
Mysterious Skin
Written and directed by Gregg Araki • Starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt,
Brady Corbet and Michelle Trachtenberg • Opens Fri, Aug 26
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