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Dogmatic
Anthony Dod Mantle is the DoP of dogme films
such as Festen, Mifune and julien donkey-boy,
and recently won an European Film Award for his work on Dogville
and 28 Days Later. Perry Ogden caught up with him fresh
from the set of Danny Boyle's Millions and Thomas Vinterberg's
Dear Wendy. This is the full version of an interview
which appeared in a slightly shorter form in Film Ireland
96.
Anthony Dod Mantle: Yeah, I went to college,
I am a real college boy, but I didn't even touch photography
or images of any kind until I was about twenty-five. My mother
was a very artistic person, so tried to drown me in thinners,
canvases and Daumier. And piano teaching, but I just basically
kicked a ball around. Played football, tennis and golf until
I was old enough to make pizzas and travel abroad.
France. I travelled with a girlfriend I met
in college and we just wanted to learn French and become fluent.
It was kind of an indirect exit from England to try and find
myself but also a love of French literature and language that
I wanted to perfect.
I went later with another girlfriend, who was
Danish, and I travelled on a boat to Denmark not knowing where
it was. I spent three months there, learnt a bit of Danish,
got to know her family. We were out one day trying to furnish
our flat as her parents were coming for dinner the following
evening. We went looking for saucepans, plates, any sensible
kitchen utensils and we ended up at a jumble sale where I
saw a flight case on the top of a shelf. I was very attracted
to this case, took it down from the shelf and opened it up
to find a Canon FTB camera with three Tamron lenses, a double
extender and a flash, and I thought, "my God, I would
love to do that." So my girlfriend took all the money
out of her pocket and said, "drop the saucepans, you
have found something you want to do." And within three
months we were in India and I was using that camera.
I went to retrace my grandparents'
colonial life - they had been tea planters in Assam - and
to get away from England. To really extricate myself from
a comfortable envelope of middle class life. And I started
photographing in India because I couldn't believe what I was
surrounded by - spirituality, colours, life. It was an extraordinary
gateway to image making. I took photograph after photograph
and came back to Denmark with seven or eight thousand exposures
which I went into the darkroom with. Then I applied for a
BA course at the London College of Printing even though they
had closed the entrance. I'm really not the kind of person
who barges their way in but I went to London and managed to
get a place.
Yeah, I was beginning
to do the odd picture for Time Out and getting offered other
jobs but I had been accepted at the Royal College for an MA
course and I felt that I should probably extricate myself
from an elitist artist environment which is what the Royal
College was. So I forced myself into the more industrial environment
of the Danish National Film School in Copenhagen, because
I had this slight connection with Denmark and they have an
excellent film school there - especially for cinematographers.
I did not expect to get in, as they only took five people
every second year, but I did.
I was stammering, stuttering
- and I was a bit nervous. I had a very local dialect that
they screamed with laughter at in Copenhagen. But I got there
and I used the school a lot.
It was not a particularly
inspiring artistic environment but I needed the schooling.
I needed to establish my own self-confidence via that schooling
method. And three years at LCP wasn't enough; I needed more.
And even after the National film school I didn't fly straight
into Director of Photography work, I kind of assisted on one
feature and then I started doing documentaries - the first
one in Cuba -, working very carefully. And then it happened
and I felt confident and now I don't even think about it.
It took a long time for me. I didn't start freelancing as
a DoP until about 1990.
No, he was there four
or five years after me. I met him on the street one day. I
couldn't resist his smile. He had just had a very good review
of his short film. So I stopped and just wound the window
down in my Volvo, he knew who I was, and I just said congratulations
and he had this big smile and I found it quite provocative.
And that was my first exchange with him. And then seven months
later I called him about the weather in Thailand. He was in
a hotel in Paris, I was in Copenhagen.
Yeah, because I knew he
had been in Thailand and I was going to go there. And I called
him. We had a good chat. And then six months after that I
shot his first feature
That's right. I had made
my first feature, The Terrorist, with a very talented
German director, Phillip Gronning. Then my first Danish film
with Carsten Rudolph. But The Greatest Heroes was my
fourth feature. I was getting into the swing of it. The film
wasn't a great success but I loved making it. We became very
close, Thomas and I, and we felt very strongly that we would
do more and the second one we did which was about two films
later was Celebration (Festen) which was a very
intense experience for us both - and quite a turning point.
No, originally Dogme
was meant to be 35mm cameras on the shoulder, hand carried,
like the Second World War photographers. Producers have distorted
that beyond belief to encourage young directors into doing
hand held video rubbish. It's appalling some of the stuff.
It's so bad. We did try to make Celebration work on
film but we couldn't get it to fit the budget. We tried Super
8, which was even more expensive than 35mm, and I stayed away
from 16mm because for some reason I felt that was wrong. I
tried Hi 8, Super 8 and a mixture of the two. But I ended
up with these little dv cameras and felt very strongly about
them. The producers did try to encourage me to reconsider
and shoot on a heavier, shoulder carried Beta Cam. They slightly
panicked, they were concerned it was a bit radical. They were
not being stupid about it, just being responsible.
I don't know, what do
you think? Some say the direction was good. The story was
fantastic.
I think that is one of
the films where perhaps the acting is allowed to flow with
the camera.
Well, that would have
been Babette's Feast at ninety miles an hour, it would
have been The Dead or Fanny and Alexander. It
could have been all of those but it became what it was. And
I don't think I would ever re-shoot it. I would love to re-treat
it. I would like to visually finish it off for my own DVD.
I saw it on a big screen again not so long ago and it really
touched me. The texture we achieved there, which was so gentle
and soft, and struggling. It's decomposing, but I feel it
has a metaphor for the story and at the same time there's
something devilish and beautiful about it. And it's up there
like a painting, maybe a bad painting. It has another aesthetic.
And I think donkey- boy (Harmony Korine's julien
donkey-boy) projected does too. I think the DVDs of both
Celebration and very much julien donkey-boy let
them down. They get hard again and more brutal, they loose
their softness.
We talked a lot about
Xerox copies, Harmony and I, even though it was a Dogme
film, we wanted some how to get this kind of Xerox bursting
painterly quality. Which seemed to fit this kind of strange
American, I wouldn't say provincial, it's not like Gummo
- which is a brilliant film - but this sort of Queens/ NY
story about this terribly complicated schizophrenic. And being
a Dogme film you can't do much about it so I shot on
everything but I wanted to marry them all. I wanted to put
them through some sort of aesthetic post process where it
would become an acceptable visual marriage. We couldn't shoot
it in Super 8 so we thought we would transfer it somehow or
re-film it on Super 8. We had some ideas about projecting
it on a velvet curtain, and re-filming that. We didn't know
what we were going to do. But we found this lab in Zurich
called Swiss Effects and they had a step printer, so we could
transfer it to 16mm and then blow it up to 35mm.
Yeah, but 16mm these days
doesn't even have an organic grain, you have to push it to
smithereens to get any grain and 35mm is almost electronic.
It's as if the electronic world of HD and the film world are
almost trying to meet.
My gut. It was shot from
the gut. We looked and looked at each scene and didn't know
what we were going to do. We sat there watching and then suddenly
it came. It was just like open the cases and it may have been
the three chip camera, it may have been the single chip, it
may have been the blind people with hidden cameras, it was
very....
Yeah, but also deliberate.
It's a tactic. It's both spontaneous and deliberately trying
not to repeat yourself, which is in fact an intellectual process.
He does, he talks of that,
that was that day. Good on him. "Mistake-ism," the
chaos, the order of chaos. (Laughing) The beauty of chaos.
He is a man of words, Harmony. He is a terror of words and
images.
Yes, it's pretty crisp
and looks good on DVD.
It's all tactics and strategies,
you have to know what you want to do in the end before you
make the first exposure.
Yeah labs and also the
process and what you know yourself and what you want to bring
to it.
Well, all electronic formats
are difficult. They are not so inspiring. There is not much
available light in 28 Days Later, it's controlled and
heavily lit and the producer rumours about it being just banged
off and lit quickly in available light are all absolute garbage.
It was a serious production, small cameras, a cheaper form
but we worked very hard - particularly the lighting guys and
the designer - to try and achieve something given that mediocre
format and mediocre resolution. Available light, exterior
light, blue skies, greens, they are nightmares on these formats.
So I tried first and foremost in shooting to control the light.
And to create contrast. And I did sky plates to bring the
skies down and get information. The secret is to get as much
information as possible into the post and then get yourself
secured time in the post with a competent man.
With a colour grader called
Jean-Clement Soret - a very talented grader at MPC in London.
I have also been working with him on Millions.
Yes, they do the transfer
to film, so you can nip downstairs to see it, go back up,
change it, it's all in-house. And then the final prints are
done, in this case I think they were done in either Deluxe
or Technicolor... I can't quite remember. It's important as
an image maker or director to know the consequences of choosing
the format you are choosing. It's always been the same, whether
you are black and white or colour or 16mm or 35mm, there are
consequences, whether you shoot available light on film, or
lit, or two cameras or three cameras. You have to know ultimately
what you want to achieve and be very honest with each other
so you don't get disappointments or cheat yourself or delude
yourself. I am way past self-delusion as far as these formats
are concerned, because I know damn well what I am going to
get. And if it fits the story, which we believe economically,
certainly now, in the case of 28 Days Later, it did,
but also artistically, if it fits the story, in that case
I go with it.
Yeah, he teased me about
it. He is a player, Danny, he knows how to twist your arm
and he came to visit me in Copenhagen and we spent an afternoon
together. I really liked him. And I loved the stories. That
made it even harder for me. I love Jim Cartwright as a writer.
Well he loved julian
donkey-boy. I gave him the first assembly of donkey-
boy and he loved it. And he loves The Idiots (Lars
Von Trier). He brought me in because he didn't know anything
about that way of working. He is a very solid worker - he'll
work harder than anybody else on the set - and very stubborn.
So he is a force, but he is also, not populist but there's
something about Danny which I battle with. I don't mean that
in an arrogant way but I feel that I am in one world and he
is in another and we try to help each other or meet. And Millions
was about that. He kept insisting that it was a comedy and
I was saying, "I know it's a comedy but it's still visual".
And I'm not a visual fascist, I'm pretty actor friendly and
I like to see actors develop. So I tried to encourage him
to let me go with the camera more but it often ended up on
the dolly or legs and not moving. It's also about cutting
and the editor (Chris Gill) is a very excitable chap - the
guy who cut Strumpet and Vacuuming and 28
Days Later - he is a very nervous gent. Very talented,
very musical, but very nervous, very frantic - frenzied even.
And I don't think Millions can handle that. I think
he is mellowing but I'm a bit fearful.
I think in the end, yes,
but it was a struggle, I had to go in a lot, I don't leave
it, I go back a lot. And I say my piece and I talk about the
flow of energy on shooting it, I do talk a lot about that
because I think it's important. I think you have to speak
your mind. And he does listen to me, Chris, we have a good
relationship, I respect him immensely. But I often think the
early products from his hands and eyes are very jittery. Sometimes
he cuts a scene before I have seen the rushes and I find this,
obviously as a photographer, quite provocative. It's a challenge
for me and my spirit and my way of working. But Millions
is governed by a very well written story by Frank Cotterell
Boyce and Danny wants to make it accessible. A kind of Billy
Elliot - emotional and accessible. Sometimes we talk quite
strongly to each other. But that is obviously our karma. When
I work with Thomas he is a great deal more dependent on my
vision. And when I work with Lars, and he's one of the greatest
visionaries that ever set foot on this hemisphere, he still
brings you in and trusts you and listens. Danny is extremely
strong, he will always have a suggestion, you will never get
lost with him, never get stuck. I could come onto a Danny
project late because he will have a vision and he will develop
it. I would dread the thought of coming too late onto Thomas's
work because there's so much preparation necessary for helping
him to decide
I was the creative pragmatist.
I was on his left shoulder; I was watching him all the time.
Well yeah, I always knew
he was going to operate as much as he could himself and that
was fine.
Certainly did. Quite appropriate.
I would even consider using him as an operator myself (Laughing).
I am seriously considering, on my directorial debut - if ever
that happens - of certainly short-listing Lars.
Where it ascends it's
masterly. It's brave, it's unforeseen, though it doesn't completely
work for me but it's such an event. I think it's basically
why Dogme happened. One would say perhaps The Idiots first
and foremost and Celebration are why Dogme had to happen.
There were one or two other films but they are the two important
ones.
Yeah, because it's an
American category but Harmony would have made that film anyway.
He was attracted to that brethren, which he's very open about.
He was attracted to the idea because it was a game and he
likes to play. So yes, I do, I am not being derogatory about
the other ones but those are the ones that touched me most.
I think they are more complete those films. I don't think
Mifune is complete, I don't think it's close to completion
in its story and execution.
Yeah, it's gentle and
I kind of like the way the film behaves. But I am not quite
so drawn into the story. I feel it wanders off.
Lars certainly struck
a very intense channel of productivity and clarity. I sat
with him on occasions when he was writing Dogville,
and I was playing, for the first time in my life, his gameboy
- it was Silent Hill, which incidentally has a street
called Elm Street in the middle of the game.
Yeah, and the whole visual
angle and look of Dogville is quite interesting. It's
a world between film and theatre and video - and video games.
Absolutely.
No, I try not to look
at anything. I try to look at the face in front of me. Generally
with the directors, well, with Thomas and I, we tend to talk
about references, look at a bit but it gets so digressed and
fluffy after the first two scenes that we start talking about
something else - puddings, women, whatever. I tend to look
at the face, look at the eyes, look at the script of course
and hear the words and look at the person in front of me and
hear them, that's the strongest potion for me to find my line
in. Obviously there are inspirations but if you just imitate
or dangerously devote yourself to looking at other schools
- designs or visual imagery - it will become second-hand,
your work, before you even expose it. You have to be very
careful. At the same time it's inevitable, you are obviously
affected by other people.
On a personal level, yes,
because I didn't waltz into it but I was very glad to finally
do a full project with Lars, I've known him for so long. We
tried so often and I get buried every time I say no.
It wasn't in the first
script and then Lars asked me to go to Scotland, to the Hebrides,
to research this extraordinary Wee Free church. I was looking
for stories, and locations, and I got to know people. I certainly
understand more now about the relationship between spiritual
extremism and geographical placement. Perhaps in the eyes
of their God I misbehaved in tapping information. I even dropped
the batteries, while trying to change them, out of my tape
recorder onto the wooden floor of a church - in the middle
of a service. But I don't think I abused them. There was a
specific story about a burial where these ministers were sending
this character, whose only just died, whose barely cold, sending
him into this hole, this bottomless pit and saying "you
can't get there quick enough mate and nor can your family,
so lets get this over with and go to the pub," that was
basically the climax of the story. I felt it was such an important
image and story for Lars and I went back with a lot of other
things and miles of pictures and research. But this one story
had to go straight into the script and the truth of the matter
is that his way of thanking, he's not one for crediting you
on the script, he is not good at that at all, but he had to
do something. So he kind of asked me if I would accept a name
code. I thought it would be like Tone or Marshal or Anton
and he came out with this explicit dialogue for Emily (Watson)
and Stellan (Skarsgaard), "Anthony Dod Mantle you are
a sinner, you've always been a sinner, you deserve your place
in hell.". It's really funny. It's a kind of token of
friendship. And then in Dancer in the Dark I am the
Lord Chief Justice who sends Bjork to her death, which could
be conceived as a complement or punishment, whatever, he felt
I was going up in the world then. Now, because I am working
with him I'm excused.
We have a lot fun and
I know him very well, he is a good friend. And he is very
wise and very trusting, very sensual, eccentric and very artistic.
He's a very gifted man - a rare, rare, bird. There are not
many of them. I love sharing my life with people like that.
It kind of helps you forward. It brings out things in yourself
that you maybe weren't altogether aware of. It encourages
you to do things that you maybe wouldn't do. It's so important
to me. And that is true of all the directors I work with.
I shot on HD as you know
and I treated that, I graded that real time - as it's called
- with my friend Peter Yourse in Copenhagen, for about 3 or
4 weeks. Then I took it to France, and did the rest of the
printing work on film with a very talented man called Fabien
at Éclair.
Dogville is the
example of a film which is exactly how I thought it was going
to be, but I did expect Lars to perhaps allow me to push the
texture more. It's actually a very fine and gentle rendition
of the lighting set ups we had, which we planned very carefully
beforehand as it all takes place on one set. And it doesn't
look like film, it doesn't look like video, it just looks
like what it is, something in between. I would have wanted
to give it more texture and pushed the colours but he felt
he wanted to be loyal to the story and the original production
design, just to be modest with it, and let the actors come
forward - which is very much his philosophy about Dogville.
It's a love story shot
on Super 35mm, it's not a film that holds you by the hand,
but it's very close to our hearts, Thomas and I, both of us.
We really are very close to that film.
Yeah, absolutely and my
kind of inspirations were the Technicolor period, the classic,
the epic - I wanted to boost certain colours. I knew very
much what I wanted to do there with the designer, who left
early before we started shooting but I had control of the
colours and the format is very much an attempt at a modern
interpretation of an epic method. It's a suggestive story
more than an explicit story and if you fall off the bandwagon
early on it's very hard to get back on. If you go expecting
just a kind of a poem, then I think it's a serious piece of
cinema.
Lars wrote it and Thomas
directed. It was shot half in Denmark and half in Germany.
And it takes place again in America. As such it's a film about
weapons and I used Edward Curtis' still photographs of the
American Indians, from a hundred years ago, as my inspiration.
I would understand them
wanting to avoid me, I would probably get fired after two
weeks. But I do get offers, I got offered a very interesting
one with the guy from Schindlers List, the Irish guy...
Yes, about Kinsey, the
guy who had the theories about sexuality, a fifties story.
It was after they saw It's All About Love, I think,
and they just called me and said, " five months in NY,
pretty high budget." It would have been an interesting
American film to do after "donkey-boy" but I was
doing Millions. I could sense it was a good script,
it was a good character, I like that guy Neeson, like him
a lot. Maybe with the huge success of 28 Days Later
in America I am going to get bombarded with offers now.
Perry would like to thank Tony Keily for
commissioning this interview.
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