Gus Van Sant

'Kiritsis is the first hero of a financial reality thriller. I fear debts and pay them off immediately'

The independent filmmaker talks about his latest film, 'Dead Man's wire', about a real kidnapping that took place in the 1970s in the US, with the negotiations taking place on live TV

by Cristina Battocletti

Gus Van Sant. L’esordio nel 1985 con Mala noche su due immigrati clandestini messicani, ma è Drugstore Cowboy (1989), storia di tossicodipendenza e di piccoli traffici illegali, a lanciarlo nel firmamento dei “migliori”. Tra i suoi capolavori Belli e dannati, Will Hunting - Genio ribelle, Elephant, Paranoid Park e Milk (Getty Images)

6' min read

6' min read

Sighing, trying to hold in the air so as not to be rude, Gus Van Sant occasionally turns his impatient eyes to the sky. The proverbial shyness and reluctance of the former rebel boy of American cinema, born in Louisville in 1952, is not a pose. His hair, now grey, always parted as a good boy, his black short-sleeved shirt with faint oriental reliefs, Van Sant waits, drumming his fingers on the back of his hands, for the scaffold he must undergo to publicise his latest remarkable film, Dead man's wire, which might translate as The Dead Man's Wire, in cinemas next year.

Screened out of competition at the Venice Film Festival, it could very well have been in the race, because, based on a true story, it is a taut psychological, action and thriller film, with which Van Sant returns to his old laurels after the cinematic ups and downs of recent years.

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Dead man's wire recounts the first case of the television spectacularisation of a news event. It is 1977, in Indianapolis, and former real estate agent Tony Kiritsis, believing he has been swindled by his bank, arms himself with a sawed-off shotgun and kidnaps the son of the owner of the credit institution, the Meridian Mortgage Company. He keeps him hooked with a wire tightened around his neck like a noose and attached to the trigger, so as to prevent him from making any false moves. Kiritsis loves being filmed and talking to the media, unwittingly becoming the first star of a reality show. The negotiations, broadcast live on TV, kept Americans in suspense for 63 hours.

Kiritsis has become a hero for better or worse. There is a very famous photo of the 'odd couple' (found on the Internet) who won

to freelancer John H. Blair the Pulitzer for the best news shot.

"A year ago, one of the producers handed me the script for the film. I knew nothing about it, although it was a very famous news event. I have no idea why I missed it. So, when I plunged into it with my virgin gaze, I immediately found it intriguing. As I read the script on the computer, next to some of the words I found links to sites where there were actual images of the episode described in the scene. Not only that, there was also footage, you could hear Tony's voice talking to the police on the phone and see him walking through the city, walking down the street with the poor hostage

to the noose. We had a huge archive to work with: the news reports,

live television, newspapers, radio. We had the privilege of going in depth not only on the writing aspects, but also on the costumes, the photography. The first images were filmed with cameras of the time and then adapted to contemporary ones'. It is obligatory to mention, for the consistency and refinement of the work, the photography by Arnaud Potier, the set design by Stefan Dechant and the costumes by Peggy Schnitzer.

In the film, Tony Kiritsis is a nervous and vibrant Bill Skarsgård, who with this performance honours his father Stellan, one of Sweden's best-known actors (his films include Mamma Mia!). The kidnapped man is Dacre Montgomery, while the father, owner and president of the bank, M. L. Hall, is Al Pacino, an all-American man, so resolute and cynical as to become grotesque. All actors live up to a brilliant script, forged by 32-year-old Austin Kolodney.

Van Sant loves and compassionately looks at the margins of the society he dwells on, with the ability to single out and 'breed' a lineage of thoroughbred actors from Keanu Reeves to River Phoenix, from Matt Damon to Ben Affleck. And with important partnerships with Robin Williams and Sean Penn, who won an Oscar for Best Actor thanks to him.

His minimalist style, in deference to an aesthetic rigour born out of his love for painting and photography, has been expressed in breaking and experimental films. For this figure of an independent filmmaker, who does not disdain a few 'secular' forays into the world of the majors, he was presented with the Campari Passion for Film Award in Venice, created to celebrate the talents in the world of cinema who embody character, dedication and a daring artistic vision, already received by Luca Bigazzi and Paola Comencini, among others. There, too, he wore the same shirt as in the interview, disguised by a black jacket and a white, jagged flower in his breast pocket, like a chrysanthemum.

The recognition comes on the fortieth anniversary of his film debut, in 1985, with Mala noche about two Mexican illegal immigrants. It was, however, Drugstore Cowboy (1989), a story of drug addiction and petty illegal trafficking, that launched him into the firmament of the 'best'. In the cast he also manages to involve the writer William S. Burroughs, who plays the role of a drug-addicted priest. With him in 1991, Van Sant made the experimental short film Thanksgiving Prayer.

In the wake of adolescent discomfort and rebellion, he made Beautiful and Damned (1991), set, like the previous films, in Portland, where he lived for thirty years and where he honed his artistic credo. Will Hunting - Rebel Genius, a great success with a few statuettes and many Oscar nominations, is, instead, set in Boston. Then, he was inspired by the Columbine massacre for the student killers in Elephant (2002), Palme d'Or at Cannes. With Paranoid Park, he enters the world of skateboarders with a gaze that is both tender and sharp at the same time, while Milk (2008) is a reconstruction of the long road for gay rights, another very strong trace of his cinema.

Tony Kiritsis is an even different case.

"He was an angry entrepreneur. He wanted to be a real estate developer, to start real estate development in an area that was not yet built to make money. In Portland I myself ended up living in an area where they were building a new part of the city. My house was surrounded by construction sites that were advancing very fast. The goal was speculation. And it was this kind of business that Tony wanted to succeed in. He threw himself into business as an average American, trusting that he would succeed, but failing. The costs of sustaining such operations are huge. It is very difficult, before building, to have the budget to do it. Tony got himself over-indebted and his debt swelled. In that situation it becomes very complicated to repay the debts, to pay the mortgage instalments when they are due. So he got trapped in all these financial constraints.

He was furious and did not want to give up without a fight'.

Tony Kiritsis during the kidnapping demanded five million dollars, immunity and above all a personal apology from M. L. Hall.

The psychiatric report profiled a psychotic, who acted in a 'state of delusional paranoia'. He ended up in a psychiatric hospital and was released in 1988, dying of natural causes in 2005.

During the negotiations Kiritsis was convinced that his popularity could be a safe-conduct for impunity. This is a type of heroism that has a lot of hold on the audience. At the end of the film, when Meridian fails, the audience in the theatre cheers and applause breaks out.

Gus Van Sant finally laughs at the paradox. "I'm surprised that people get excited about this passage, because if they were trying to get on Tony's bad side the script offered many other insights. In truth, although it is not mentioned in the film, the bank was in trouble even before the final crack. I think the audience rejoices because they put themselves in Tony's shoes. Many people, in truth, feel this sense of strangulation when they have to pay their mortgage'.

Has it ever happened to Gus Van Sant to feel pressurised by debts? 'Well, first of all, I don't try to get rich from real estate development. But I think pursuing a film project is similar to real estate. It's like trying to buy property: you need financing, which scares me a lot. I pay the instalments as fast as I can, even though I know it's not smart, because the debt is cheap compared to the investment. But it's stronger than me, it's a natural inclination of mine to get rid of debts. But I understand the pressure Tony felt and that's why I don't want to take out loans.

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