Director Interview

Our web communications whiz, Liz Porter, interviews Prodigal Son writer-director CJ Scuffins - and throws him one or two curveballs.

Enjoy!

Jill Sartini - Exec Producer

Part 1

LIZ: What is Prodigal Son all about?

CJ: The plot is a sci-fi staple. Bloke comes back from the dead! And he's different! I was interested in how far I could push that genre idea to reach something genuinely emotional.

LIZ: Beyond the plot, then. What were you trying to say?

CJ: I wanted to show the Catholic mindset, take people inside it. In particular, the guilt that comes from knowing that you've hurt people. Can you admit accountability? The gangster father can't. He tries to perpetuate a cover-up by instigating the return of his son from the dead. He's led his son down a dark road, and doesn't take responsibility when the inevitable happens. You see this lack of accountability in public life, in our personal lives and in work situations too. We're a nation of arse-coverers. Except me, obviously. I'm perfect.

LIZ: I won't say anything. There's a lot of religious imagery in there, somebody gets a smack of crucifix at one point...

CJ: I've made a very subtle film, yes...

LIZ: Are you a Bible-basher or what?

CJ: Yes, it's one big ad for becoming a priest. No, when thinking about art direction, I was struck by the irony of a Catholic kid returning from the dead, and Christ's return. His Mam and himself have great belief, which deeps the confusion, pain, and guilt when the reckoning finally comes. That's the surface though. The actual image system is hidden deeper, as it should be. There are cover-up motifs throughout. I literally cover characters behind elevator doors, passing trams, hands, horses, other people, and so on. There's a symbolic reason for that.

LIZ: You lost me at image system... How did the story for Prodigal Son come about?

CJ: I developed it with Chris Kinsella, another Tallaght man who is working with me on feature ideas now. I was doing some business writing for this fairly dodgy American company and met him there. We would take the train home and started talking about our favourite sci-fi stories. I remembered one where a bounty hunter kills a kid by mistake and then took him to a sorcerer to be reanimated. The kid's mother wasn't best pleased with the results to say the least. I worked with Chris to take the core idea of a reanimated child into a modern Dublin context.

LIZ: A comic has an unlimited budget. You haven't got a bean to your name. Did you have to compromise on any of your big ideas?

CJ: I had beans for dinner, actually. No compromising was necessary, because we wrote for a low-no budget from the start. I kept saying, "What is the Tallaght version of that idea?' It helped hugely. Putting the story in a world of working class gangsters, that was one of Chris's suggestions. And putting in an American multinational allowed me to let off steam about the people I was working for, to comment on medical industry immorality, and provide some real scope to the story, to rampage across different walks of Irish life.

LIZ: Some of that imagery, a kid on a horse in Smithfield, risks being seen as a cliché

CJ: Hmmm... There's a difference between stereotypes and archetypes. I think we have enough originality in there. Ever seen a hooded killer on a horse, trying to avenge a dead junkie girlfriend by shooting a zombie gangster with an ancient pistol? After his Ma and Da do a deal with a gangland doctor, who's selling dead bodies to a US medical company, that reanimates them?

LIZ: Well, there was this Merchant Ivory film once...Fair enough. Why did you take an arty-farty, stylized approach?

CJ: Weirdly enough, it wasn't my initial thinking. I was just concerned with telling the story at the script stage. I wasn't thinking of a stylized piece until the DP, Piers McGrail, read the script and said it felt like a comic book film to him. I thought that a stylized film would be too expensive. Piers naturally assuming that it could be shot this way gave me the confidence to say, Yeah, this can be done. I have a big collection of comics and always have one on the go. So I was comfortable with the look. I was confident I could emulate the feel of a comic as well as most comic book films, despite the lo-no budget.

LIZ: You are a comic book nut?

CJ: We prefer the term, 'comic book nerd'. Honestly, I am not a comic book nut, as much as a fan of good comic books. I try to be discerning. Most of them are just mindless punch-ups between guys in capes - I've seen that on Halloween Night in Tallaght countless times. It bores me. I want some gut wrenching emotional stuff too. Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead was the big one for me these past few years, which no doubt inspired all the walking dead in Prodigal Son.

Alan Moore's Watchmen is my favourite book, comic or otherwise. I read it every year, and have never stopped marvelling over it. I love the abstract connections between different storylines. I noticed those connections happening when shooting Prodigal. Ryan (Andrews, who plays Joe) brilliantly improvised a moment where he tasted the blood of the girl he'd killed and, later, in a different storyline, we had Taste My Blood written on a wall. I love that. It's like, everything is connected in that world, but you have to pay attention to see it.

LIZ: Sorry, I was reading a text message. Can you repeat that?

Part 2

LIZ: Prodigal clocks in at 18 minutes. That's long for a supposed short, isn't it?

CJ: Well, I must have seen over five hundred short films in my time as the IFI's film festival coordinator -- there is no set time for a short film. Prodigal just doesn't work at a shorter length. Early on I demanded a 15 minute version from the poor editor, but it sped by like a trailer and confused everybody. This thing has a complex interweaving of stories. I'm a huge Seinfeld fan, so that's where that comes from. Anyway, longer, natural length proves that a director can handle multiple storylines, many characters, and many genres in one narrative.

LIZ: That's your story and you're sticking to it.

CJ: Exactly!

LIZ: What was the film's budget?

CJ: Somewhere in the region of 5K. And climbing due to festival distribution costs. My job was to make that budget work hard. To make it look like a 20K short, at least. I hope I've succeeded.

LIZ: You funded the film via Facebook?

CJ: Yes, most of budget came from friends, family, and Facebook film lovers. The producer Eilis Mernagh organized fundraisers using the three hundred or so contacts we had between us. She also put me in touch with key people along the way. Couldn't have done it without her.

LIZ: I believe you were a writer once. What gave you the push to direct?

CJ: But I am a writer still! Although I'm obsessed with many aspects of film, too, not just the writing part. So I came to the conclusion that I had to direct myself. In fact, I remember talking to a director about one of my scripts a few years ago. I was very specific about how I wanted it shot. He said, 'You're a director.' And literally took off down the road. I chased him for a while, but he was too quick...

LIZ: How did you take to directing?

CJ: Absolutely loved it. I was crucified with indecision for years as a script writer. I never trusted my first instincts. Directing doesn't give you a chance to second and third guess. When you're asked a question on location, you have to answer. So I loved the whole process. Loved solving problems, from coming up with new lines, seeing a delivery I liked from an actor and asking for more of the same. Seeing the 10 things wrong with a scene and then adjusting them before the next take... I really felt at home.

LIZ: How did you prepare for the shoot?

CJ: I was too busy making a film to prepare! Let's see...mostly I went back to what I loved. I rewatched my favourite films in the indie crime genre. I reread some chapters from books I liked about working with actors. I read a making of The Big Lebowski. That and the Coens' other low-budget films, like Raising Arizona and Miller's Crossing. They influenced the quick fire humour and wide angles. It was quite natural. The staring-down-the-camera, spiking it, came from watching the kids we cast in auditions, how in-yer-face they were, and how that looked like a comic book frame. So I made a lot of top of the head decisions, along with the planning.

LIZ: Any advice for other writers wanting to follow the same path?

CJ: Make like Nike and just do it. A writer-director friend Mick Foran gave me great advice beforehand. 'Directing is just common sense.' Also, I'd say get familiar with Filmmaker's Network, a great resource for new filmmakers to connect with crew and actors. That goes without saying, too: cast well. My cast was absolutely brilliant, dead committed to every moment of madness. Make sure you don't skimp on a professional sound recordist, too. The horror stories I've heard.... Oh, and find somebody to guide you through the post production jungle. Particularly if shooting on a Red. "Beyond cinema quality? Then how does it play in a cinema?"" A lot of messing about is the answer. I had a young polymath called Mark Mangan helping me. He was a crew member that I spotted taking amazing photos of our locations. He should have been working, mind...

LIZ: You were a funded writer in the theatre? Will you ever return now?

CJ: One production of mine was given fifteen grand. I had some bad experiences in the theatre, though. I will return with a vengeance one day.

LIZ: Casting couch?

CJ: Well, they tried to screw me. I remember a producer offering a contract with ridiculous terms, robbing me of all rights for years. He told me it was standard. I went home, made up my own contract and asked him to sign it. I wrote Standard Contract at the top.

LIZ: There came an impasse?

CJ: Yep, and then there came a short film called Prodigal Son.

LIZ: Last one. The snooker player, Gary Wilde. He pops in sideboard photos, the back of milk cartons, propped up against walls. Why?

CJ: When in doubt, I think... what would David Lynch do?

LIZ: Something mental. Thanks for nothing.

CJ: Any time.