SXSW Film
Daily reviews and interviews
By Belinda Acosta, Fri., March 16, 2007
Across the Great Divide: Will Geiger on 'Elvis and Anabelle'
As sweeping backdrop, as metaphor, and even as a character, Texas has served filmmakers for generations. Writer and director Will Geiger adds another film to the omnibus with his new film, Elvis and Anabelle, the newest Burnt Orange production. In less able hands, an iconic Lone Star State could devolve into caricature. Geiger finds the right touch in his offbeat love story between the title characters who find each other through extraordinary circumstances and a shared frustration of living lives beyond their control. Geiger sat down the morning after Elvis and Anabelle made its world premiere on Saturday, March 10, to talk about the film, Texas, and what's missing for current independent films.
Austin Chronicle: Why set Elvis and Anabelle in Texas?
Will Geiger: I felt like the movie wanted to live here. What other state in the country has the sense of identity that Texas does? I don't know any other people from any other state that say, "I'm from Texas" with the same amount of pride. … I like that there's an offbeat sense of humor that Texans have, and visually, because I wanted the wide open spaces to capture that feeling of loneliness that's in the film. Plus, I wanted to show a different kind of Texas, not the Hollywood cliché of Texas. How often do you see the beach in Texas? As bad as most Americans are with geography, I bet most would be surprised Texas has beaches.
AC: It was a treat to see Joe Mantegna as Charlie (Elvis' father) in a role that was a departure for him. The relationship between him and Elvis (Max Minghella) was endearing, their choices so intimate.
WG: Audiences really respond to their relationship. Max and Joe had an instant bond. I thought it was important to show this side of Elvis, who's ordinarily cold and bitter, otherwise he could be unlikable. Max says that was one of the reasons he was drawn to the film, the relationship between Elvis and Charlie.
AC: I don't want to say "sentimental," because that sounds like I'm diminishing your film, but there is a sentimental or tender quality to Elvis and Anabelle that is startling, considering the wealth of "hard" and "edgy" independent films out today. Is this a deliberate choice?
WG: I've been talking a lot about this lately. There's a divide between mainstream filmmaking or studio films or bigger budget movies that take sentimentality too far, and it becomes fake, and indie films that feel that there has to be shock value, it has to be disturbing. Even though it's independent film, people still want to pigeon hole it. In Little Miss Sunshine, yes, there was an edge, but people also felt something, and they flocked to see the movie. … I want my films to have style, but if someone dies, you should care. I don't feel like I have to apologize when someone feels something. People want to be moved. If they walk out of a film, and they're not moved, what's the point?
9:45pm, Paramount
