British Cinematographer
Three time Oscar nominated and recipient of the 2024 Camerimage Lifetime Achievement Award, Ed Lachman talks to British Cinematographer about an extraordinary career.
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If filmmaking is a never-ending education, as Ed Lachman
believes, then he is a professor. His extraordinary career overlaps and
intersects with so many filmmaking greats – and he has extended the artform
with defining work himself.
When Lachman mentions Robert Altman, Bernado Bertolucci,
Paul Schrader, Nic Roeg, Werner Herzog, Dennis Hopper, Wim Wenders or Steven
Soderbergh, these are filmmakers he has worked with. For many DPs, Vittorio
Storaro, Sven Nykvist and Robby Müller are three of the greatest
cinematographers to have lived. Lachman actually learned at their feet.
“The greatest film school I could have ever gone to was the
opportunity to work with Sven, Robby and Vittorio,” he says.
When he quotes Jean-Luc Godard, know that the revolutionary
auteur invited Lachman to collaborate with him (on Passion, 1982).
“For Godard, images were always about the idea behind the
image, rather than just some abstract aesthetic concept,” Lachman says. “Once
you can start thinking about what they represent, you will create images that
transcend their own clichés.”
All those filmmakers share an indie pedigree and they all
either helped birth or were influenced by groundbreaking European film-art
movements of the 1960s and ‘70s.
What was it that attracted a New York native to seek out artists
across the Atlantic? The same approach to storytelling that kept him within
their orbit.
“I was studying painting and art history at Ohio University
and discovered Dadaists and German Expressionism which dealt with the
psychology of the subject matter to express an idea,” Lachman relates. “It was
a natural progression for me to want to look to Europe.”
In the wake of neorealists Roberto Rossellini and Vittorio
De Sica, young turks like Bertolucci, Herzog and Wenders proved inspirational
in their freedom to explore ideas, styles and period.
Lachman says, “Hollywood had a system of how to create
images to be used in the editing room. That’s not a pejorative. It’s just that
that was the form. But in Europe each filmmaker found their own language to
tell the stories that were personal to them.”
By extension, the cinematographer and director were co-authors
of the film in a way that American cinema at that time was not. “For the
directors I was attracted to filmmaking was more of a complete process inclusive
of writing, shooting and editing. It wasn't compartmentalised like making a car
on an assembly line.”
In the early 1970s American independent film was about to
have its renaissance but Lachman went to the source.
“I really learned about American Cinema through the French Nouvelle Vague
because [fabled film journal] Cahiers du cinéma was referencing Sam
Fuller, Nicholas Ray and other American auteur voices.” Lachman worked with on
Ray’s final film Lightning Over Water in 1980 with co-directed by
Wenders.
During college Lachman made films in Super 8 and 16mm—"simple
portraits of people I met. As I was shooting them, I was always thinking about
various artists and their different schools of painting.”
In 1972 while editing his post-graduate film (about a
therapeutic community for drug addicts) at a suite also used by the brothers
Maysles he impressed the documentarians enough to get invited to shoot camera
for them. Lachman attributes the experience they gave him of treating even
narrative films as docs; “No performances are exactly the same.”
Filmmakers like Herzog and Wenders whose work has constantly
blurred the boundaries between real and realism agreed. Herzog become friends
after meeting at a screening of the director’s 1968 film Signs of Life
in Berlin. A little later “without looking at a frame of my films” Herzog hired
Lachman to work alongside German DP Thomas Mauch. In short succession he worked
on Herzog’s How Much Wood Would a Woodchuck Chuck (1975), Stroszek
(1976), La Soufrière (1976), and Huie’s Sermon (1980).
He is indebted to Herzog for an introduction to Wenders “a
librarian of imagery” through whom Lachman got to meet Müller. “I befriended
Robby and his entire crew when I helped them on American Friend (1976)
and they ended up staying in my New York loft – where we also shot the hospital
scene.” Lachman lives there still. “It was an honour to operate for Robby but
more importantly to learn and to be inspired by him,” he says.
He operated for Müller on They All Laughed (1981)
directed by Peter Bogdanovich, and Body Rock (1984) and shot Wenders doc
Tokyo-Ga about Japanese filmmaker Yasujirō Ozu.
When Bertolucci came to New York to shoot La Luna in
1979 “he was generous enough to ask me to assist him and Vittorio.”
Years previously in New York, Lachman had been wowed by
Bertolucci’s 1964 drama Prima
della rivoluzione, without fully comprehending its politics.
“It’s about a young man who couldn't resolve his leftist
beliefs and I didn’t understand the social context of bourgeois middle class or
what that conflict was about. I wasn't part of that world.”
His films seem to have become increasingly political since. Think
Mira Nair’s interracial romance Mississippi Masala (1991), Steven
Soderbergh’s whistleblower drama Erin Brockovich (2000), and another
true life environmental cover-up in Dark Waters (2019). His black
and white depiction of General Pinochet and Margaret Thatcher as vampires in
Pablo Larraín’s satire El Conde (2023) won Lachman a third Oscar
nomination.
“I think all films are political. Even if its conservative.
As it happens, I work with filmmakers that have the intellect and interest to
look at society through their art. It’s just more interesting to work with
people that are questioning the values that surround us and who use their work
to express their ideas with it.”
A student of cultural history he notes that when social
economic conditions are uprooted new artistic movements emerge as with New German
Cinema’s response to the Cold War. Does that mean there might be a cultural
eruption in response to the rise of the far right?
“There will always be a reaction when the economic and
social conditions are there,” Lachman says. “If you look at where films are being
made now that seem to have a conscience you can see lots of interesting work
from India.”
While he is drawn to the political subtext of projects he is
equally taken by the way directors choose to visualise those stories. Larraín, for
example, presented Chile’s dark history as a gothic noir featuring vampires “a
mash-up I felt impelled to help create.”
He says, “Some directors have a strong visual sense and some
don't but it's the ones with the strongest visuals I've been lucky enough to
work with. I plug into their world and try to implement something of myself.”
Lachman’s commercial breakthrough as solo cinematographer
was for Susan Seidelman’s Desperately Seeking Susan (1985) introducing
German expression into Madonna’s feature debut.
“New York was kind of depressed. It was being gentrified. The
housing was pretty rough. So I thought about a heightened reality that was
foreboding and dangerous. I was influenced by how Adam Holender had presented
an impression of the city in Midnight Cowboy and thought the feeling of the
downtown streets could be a stylized German expressionist vernacular for
Madonna while Rosanna Arquette’s world was a pastel mundane suburban
environment.”
He says, “A cinematographer is like another actor. You're
giving a performance, to a degree. You're
reacting to what's in front of you. That's why I think a lot of directors want
to be on the camera because they're the first audience. I certainly like to be operating
because I like the immediacy of the moment in telling a story visually.”
Above anything, though, it's the passion of the director that
excites Lachman. “Their passion in why they want to tell this story and also
their passion for finding a visual language to tell the story. It's not about
close-up, medium, long shot and coverage of dialogue.
“When I read the script, I develop many visual ideas of how
to approach a story. At home I have a library of hundreds of photography and
art books filled with images that I find inspiring. Each painter has their own
aesthetic about why and what they paint. It should be the same criteria for a
film director.”
Oscar-nominated for his camera work on Far From
Heaven and Carol, Lachman says Haynes is one of the most prepared directors.
“He has an extensive shot list but is always open to responding to the
immediacy of the moment. When we research a film, he creates a ‘look-book’
illustrating the cultural history, politics, demographics, art, fashion as well
as the cinematic language of the film’s time period that provides the emotional
structure of the film for me.”
Lachman has been in the director’s chair himself on projects
including Ken Park (2002) which he co-directed with Larry Clark from a Harmony
Korine script.
“There are certain projects I like to direct because I feel
I have more control over the image but I'm very happy to be just a
cinematographer. Then I can just be in that world and not have to deal with
everybody else's problems. Plus, we have a crew to help us. When you're a
director, everybody comes to you to solve the problem.”
Each craft also requires a different mentality he says. “Put
it this way, cinematographers may know how to tell the story but do they have a
story to tell? That to me is the difference between a director and a
cinematographer. Directors have to have a burning passion to tell the story.”
“When you're a cinematographer you know how to tell the
story and you have to come up with a solution to tell the story. You have a
crew to help you solve the problem. There are many ways to tell the story. It's
a different mindset.”
Songs for Drella, a 1990 concert film Lachman
directed and photographed with Lou Reed and John Cale, was an attempt to
immerse the viewer in their performance.
“When I first met Lou he said, ‘I don’t want any fucking
camera between me and the audience. They paid for the show and want to see my
performance.’ I went home wondering how I could possibly shoot the concert
without cameras obstructing the audience.
“I came back the next day and proposed to shoot their
rehearsals for two days without an audience with just my camera on stage
creating an intimacy of the camera’s movements to the music, and one day with
the audience and cameras off stage. They agreed. Lou’s challenge to me resulted
in the viewer being closer to Lou and John’s performance.”
In his 77th year Lachman is still going strong, having
completed Maria with Larrain with another biopic (of Peggy Lee) in
development for Haynes. At MoMa he’s helped curate a retrospective of
photographer Robert Frank, an influential force and a friend.
“He imbued every image with his own personal experience and
demonstrated how one can impart poetry, psychology and vision in images. Frank
showed us how to instil realistic or found images with the experience and
subjectivity of the photographer.”
Lachman is not concerned that the sugar rush of AI and
virtual cine technologies will damage the future of the craft. “Film has the
ability for us to experience what is seen and hidden at the same time. It can
reveal the depth of our own reality and open us to a fuller sense of ourselves.
Cinema is little over a century old it will always evolve new visual grammar as
filmmakers explore new languages to tell their stories.
“It doesn't matter if we do it on an iPhone, or in 8K or Super 8. We will always need people to understand the world that we are living in and tell stories in a way that we can all relate to.”
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