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An Interview with Todd Robinson
by Sally B. Merlin
June 2000
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| Acclaimed writer/director Todd Robinson's lastest documentary, Amargosa, tells the story of reclusive dancer and painter Marta Becket. Robinson recently spoke with scr(i)pt on the parallells he found between himself and Becket and also the art of documentary filmmaking.
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scr(i)pt:
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I'd like to know what draws you to documentary filmmaking?
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Todd Robinson:
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Documentaries afford the ability to be proactive in terms of getting
something made while the budgets are low enough to allow me to be
completely in control of the material, to work without interference. On the other
hand there's nobody to blame it if doesn't work, but I'm willing to take that
chance.
I'm fascinated with people and motivation and character study. In another
life I might have been a shrink. It's an intimate process of discovery.
In a documentary, you're peeling apart someone who is real, why they have become
who they are while trying to understand yourself through them at the same time. It's actually a mysterious process.
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scr(i)pt:
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What was it about Marta Becket and Amargosa that made you feel it would
make a good documentary?
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Todd Robinson:
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When Traci, my sister, told me about Marta and what she was doing, I
knew right away this was a story about me. Which is to say embodied in
Marta's experience was my own parallel experience. I knew that by going inside
of her I'd be going inside myself and possibly learn something about myself.
And that's what happened.
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scr(i)pt:
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Can you tell me what it was that you discovered?
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Todd Robinson:
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This is a woman who had had a successful career as a ballerina and
painter in New York. And yet not unlike your first question, she
realized she needed more control and the ability to express herself and
her life experience through her work. Without interference. So she gave
up the societal expectations, how success is defined, commercialism, and
with no reasonable hope of creating a world where her work could be
nurtured. She made a commitment to performing whether or not people
came. And in the beginning people didn't come. The fairy tale part of
this story is that now at the age of 76, they do come. And she sells out
every performance. She risked everything, gave up every amenity in the
process. I admire people who risk, who have that kind of courage.
I've walked a little bit in the spotlight of the international
stage with some big projects, so I understand what she gave up.
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scr(i)pt:
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That parallels this project, how?
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Todd Robinson:
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Well, my partners and I do these documentaries independently. We take
the risk of not selling the thing, of putting up our own money. Going out there and making the film that we want to make, and letting the chips fall where they may. It can be a daunting thing. But we're fiercely loyal and supportive of each other. We're building a "space" where we can be nurtured, develop as artists.
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scr(i)pt:
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You have had good success. You've won an Emmy.
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Todd Robinson:
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That's right, I won the Emmy doing the same thing and Amargosa is a
finalist for an Oscar so it seems to be working.
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scr(i)pt:
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Do you encourage beginning documentary filmmakers to try their hand at
doing it independently, rather than finding themselves hooked up to Discovery, The Learning Channel, or PBS?
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Todd Robinson:
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Every experience is valuable and I would never tell somebody to turn
down work. But it's difficult to work at the level I'm talking when you
only have $75,000.00 to make it and six weeks to cut it. You can't do it. The
way good storytelling happens is by trusting the process and having the time to
reflect. You can't do that under the gun. You can do something, grind out
broadcastable material I suppose. And I'm glad people are doing that,
because I watch it. But VH1's BEHIND THE MUSIC say, is the same story over
and over. They found structure but it's completely predictable and not
very inspiring. As my partner Sidney Sherman always points out, "The budget and
the schedule is the aesthetic."
I'm really not placing a value on it. I watch that stuff it just that it's
more entertainment than art and it's just not how I want to spend my time.
You can't be a snob either. Jurneymanship is important, as is survival.
You have to decide where and when to pitch your battles. It's all choices.
Look, I've gotten to a point in my life where I have to make a living
because I have a family. I came to a crossroad where I realized I can either be a hard case where I can argue and fight over every little creative detail with everybody I ever work with, or I can make choices. I'm writing Warner Brothers movie right now that for Wolfgang Peterson. The people I'm working
with are really smart. They've had as much success as anybody has in the last ten years. They know more about making successful movies than I do. So in that context, I am there to please them. I'm there to do the best job I can for them and I'm there to learn. That isn't to say that I'm not personalizing the work. I am. But I'm listening very carefully to what they say. It's not about me; it's about being part of an ensemble.
I'm just as fulfilled doing these smaller projects. When I listen to an audience respond to a poignant moment its just as satisfying as hearing them 'ooh' and 'aha' over the pyrotechnics of a big commercial movie. It's even better, you know, because I'm making them feel something with so few resources.
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scr(i)pt:
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From what I understand, you spent a year of your life on Amargosa. Is
that true?
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Todd Robinson:
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That's true.
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| scr(i)pt:
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That's not a small amount of time, I mean you have to commit for long
stretches of time. And I'm just curious what it is about the true stories about real people that draws you to that, and
sustains you for that amount of time.
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Todd Robinson:
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Anything worthwhile is going to take time.
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scr(i)pt:
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When you're rolling film, do you have to know when that moment's going
to happen? How do you motivate it to happen?
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Todd Robinson:
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Film forces you to trust your intuition because you can't afford to
roll on everything. You have to make a decision and live with it. Sometimes you get it, sometimes you don't.
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scr(i)pt:
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Did you motivate Marta Becket to cry? Was that something that happened
in the editing room?
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Todd Robinson:
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I motivated her in the sense that I was always trying to make something
real happen. For instance I had her looking through some old pictures on camera. When she came across one of her ex-husband that she'd failed to remove her reaction was real. It led her to a real emotional place and suddenly we had an authentic moment. And that's what you crave for in documentary filmmaking. Actually, that's what you crave for in feature films too, but there it's a much more artificial process. Again, that leads me back to why I love documentaries. When it's real you get one crack at it. Maybe that's the measure of the filmmaker. Did you seize the opportunity or squander it? It's those real moment that connect with the audience. It's what we pay to see. We're riveted because it is a common human experience that we share in, the true emotion of it. When you watch somebody tear up in you lens and really feel something for the first and only time, it thrilling. If you miss it, you bang your head against the
camera.
scr(i)pt:
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Do you know you have a film in the can once you wrap production?
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Todd Robinson:
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For me documentaries are really made in the editing room. That's where
the writing and structuring happens. Good verite documentary filmmaking by definition it cannot be scripted. (I'm not talking about what Ken Burns does, history, that's something different.) So you have to go out there and trust that you have an idea of what the film's going to be about, what you
hope to accomplish, but at the same time be ready for the mistakes and surprises and react, move with the flow. How could I possibly know who this woman is, or what her life is about, before I get to know her? And the only way I get to know her is by the process of making the film. So I can go in there with an idea with what the film is about, but ultimately it changes. You've got to be willing to go with happens
and deviate from your questions. And when somebody starts to go in a direction you don't expect, you've got to be willing to go with them.
It's exhausting. I'd be doing three, four interviews a day and I would have to go away in between interviews and not talk to anybody because it was so intense. To be that present with somebody, 18 inches away from their face, trying to stay with them, not letting them fall off the track, and trying
to anticipate where they're going, so I can lead them but not manipulate them. Being connected to their emotion, to the moments when I know they're uncomfortable, and somehow having to keep them there.
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scr(i)pt:
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Let me segue back to something here. "Creativity without commerce," is one of the things mentioned in the film. You said that Marta's story was in some ways your story. I was wondering, is that part of the story, that you can be creatively free in the documentary format to pursue your vision?
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Todd Robinson:
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There's no way that you can get away from money even if it's your own money. You can't separate yourself from the pressure of the risk, but that not with standing, my partners and I were willing to risk our own money because we believed in ourselves, and we believed in the experience of making the film, of the adventure of it, that if nothing else, the experience would be worth doing what we were doing. I'm certainly not saying that commerce is a bad thing. I mean artists have to make money too. However, the moment you introduce money as motivation into the creative process the reasons for doing it begin
to blur. It's insidious. Art without commerce probably isn't realistic or even possible. After all, even the Sistine Chapel was a commission. What I will say is that when you are free from those expectations, free from the pressure of investors who are terrified that their going to lose their money, then you can really follow your impulses and you have to believe they'll take you to the best place.
So the reason that I do documentaries is that the risk is low enough that I'm comfortable following my impulses. If you handed me 100 million and said, 'Hey Todd, go do your thing,' I'd be terrified, because I'm not ready to do that. There's so much at risk.
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scr(i)pt:
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I'd like to know more about how the documentary comes together in the editing room?
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Todd Robinson:
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Editing is easily as important to me as production because it is there where you gather not just what you shot, but all kinds of other elements: photographs, sound, archival footage, whatever record remains. It's wonderful and scary at the same time. You're given this barrel full of engine parts and you know that there's a car in there somewhere, but there's no instruction manual. Could be a Lamborghini, could be a Hugo.
You don't know how this is going to come together. So you have to find a structure that hopefully is not too linear, and not too much of a time line to tell the story. At least, that's always a challenge to me because I always want to try to tell the story in a more interesting way, and then start putting the pieces together, so you have a beginning a middle and an end. I still believe that there's a three-act structure that you have to
have a dramatic spine, a thematic spine to counterpoint it. You have to know who your antagonist is, what the tension is, and you have to go for act breaks, because you have to keep people interested. Making a documentary film is a lot like writing a screenplay because you're starting with general ideas, but there's no structure before you, you have to create it to make it work. When you make a feature film, a bunch of people have already agreed on the blueprint, and as Hitchcock said, once he was making the film, it was
over for him. Why? For him photo graphing it was just an exercise in committing what had already been
accomplished in his mind to film. (I'm sure the actors loved that)
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scr(i)pt:
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In documentaries, the characters, even though you don't know them, their stories proceed them. Who they are proceeds them; therefore you don't have to wrestle with one of the fundamental things about screenwriting until you get into the project. Then it becomes shaping that without stepping over the line...
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Todd Robinson:
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...and imposing yourself on them.
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scr(i)pt:
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Right, exactly. I remember you telling me that for documentary filmmakers, one
of the most difficult things to do is to not impose yourself into their process.
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Todd Robinson:
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It's the difference between presentation and propaganda. With regard to Marta, she wanted this to be all about her, and I said 'No. I'm using your story to tell a bigger story.' And that is the story of anyone who's ever had a dream. It's about having the courage to risk criticism for your happiness. That is the transcendent value of her story, and that what interested me. Not the details of her day to day life, but in terms of a metaphor, an allegory, that is what I want people to walk away with at the end of the day.
On another level, I want them to understand the motivation of this woman. Why would a woman go out to Death Valley, California, isolated by hundreds of miles from any real urban center, where she has no possible hope of achieving what she ever hopes to achieve. Why would anybody do that? Well,
you have to understand that, and in order to understand that, you have to know what her life experience has been. It all goes back her childhood, and what shaped her. It goes back to the construction of a narcissist. Narcissists are very productive people, but they are also unsatisfied people because there is a hole in their lives that cannot be filled. And that is what is true about Marta.
The thing I love most Marta's story is am insight I slowly made about her. Marta talks throughout the film about the rapture of doing, the rapture of being present in the moment. Of course, that is what we all try to achieve as enlightened folk. I mean there's real wisdom in understanding that the past is past, the future is beyond our control, and the only thing we can really do to be satisfied is to live in the moment. And when you are writing or painting, or for me, flying an airplane, you find yourself present in the moment and free from the charges of the past, and the uncertainty of the future. That's a wonderful thing. What happens with Marta however is that it becomes her refuge. Instead of exploring herself and knowing herself better
in her art, in her world, it becomes a place to escape to. And in the accomplishment, she is somehow hoping that it will bring approval. It's an impossible task, so my conclusion is that when she isn't working she is a woman in deep pain. Very productive, but in deep pain. It is no small irony that she is in the desert. It is an emotional desert for her. It is a place where she is completely isolated from interaction. This is what I get off on, it's just fascinating to have the privilege to go into somebody's life and really see what makes them tick. I couldn't possibly have known this at the beginning. The pain that she has in her life is something that everybody can relate to, because everybody has these unresolved issues in their life.
And everybody is motivated to succeed on some level because of his or her interactions in their childhood.
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scr(i)pt:
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Any final thoughts?
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Todd Robinson:
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To be able to learn from someone else's life is to enhance my own experience of living, of approach, understanding and accepting other people. So the experience of making a film like this goes well beyond initial expectations. It's a transcendent adventure that becomes a part of you and that, is the best reason for doing it in the first place.
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