{"id":10876,"date":"2025-02-23T16:52:04","date_gmt":"2025-02-23T15:52:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/?p=10876"},"modified":"2025-04-30T13:35:18","modified_gmt":"2025-04-30T11:35:18","slug":"listening-courageously-with-todd-haynes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/listening-courageously-with-todd-haynes\/","title":{"rendered":"LISTENING COURAGEOUSLY WITH TODD HAYNES"},"content":{"rendered":"

Berlin can be a harsh city, not gonna lie. My first day in Berlin was the opening of the 66th Berlinale in 2016, and I remember vividly how scared I was by the city\u2019s size, darkness, and coldness. At the time, I was a young film student in Cologne, researching queer true story adaptations, with a special focus on the work of Todd Haynes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Todd\u2019s early work was what pushed me – and I\u2019m sure many others – to pursue film as a field of study. I still remember how mesmerized I was watching <\/span>Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story<\/span><\/i> (1987) for the first time. A simple, crafty production, done with only Barbie dolls, that had the power to deeply immerse the audience in its story in a way most high-budget Hollywood movies are unable to do.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now, almost a decade after my first Berlinale, I find myself sitting just meters away from Todd Haynes as he explains to a packed auditorium at Hebbel am Ufer his intentions behind making <\/span>Superstar<\/span><\/i> and many other titles like <\/span>Safe<\/span><\/i> (1995), <\/span>Carol<\/span><\/i> (2015), and <\/span>I\u2019m Not There<\/span><\/i> (2007). The theme of the panel is \u201cListen Courageously,\u201d an especially intriguing topic considering his main characters struggle to be heard as they navigate the margins of society.<\/span><\/p>\n

Todd Haynes and his friends were responsible for what today is called the New Queer Cinema wave. Friends helping friends, making movies together using 16mm film and what was, at the time, revolutionary\u2014videotape cameras. Today considered obsolete by many, back in the \u201980s and \u201990s, videocameras opened space for unheard voices. This group of friends, working from their garages and basements, became big names in cinema – Christine Vachon, Tom Kalin, Kelly Reichardt, Gus Van Sant, and Karim A\u00efnouz, among many others.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe thing that was so inspiring about being a part of this new queer cinema is that all the other filmmakers that I was in the company of were also experimenting with style, genre, and form as well as content. Gay film didn’t just mean you made a movie about gay people. It was also about changing how we tell stories,\u201d explains Haynes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Haynes continues, \u201cPeople talk about the identity of the filmmaker in relationship to the subject matter that they tell. Is there such a thing as queer cinema? Is there such a thing as queerness through the view of a director, through their experience?\u201d He makes sure to mention that his biggest inspiration is Douglas Sirk, a German filmmaker who fled to the USA with his Jewish wife back in the \u201930s. Famous for his happy endings\u2014or better put, \u201cfalse happy endings,\u201d since they can be incredibly sad. According to Haynes, Sirk\u2019s cinema is purely queer for questioning the artificiality of American society, even though Sirk was a straight man.<\/span><\/p>\n

While Sirk has been a source of inspiration for Haynes, it was, in fact, Lucille Ball who sparked his storytelling passion. He shares that when he was just a little boy, he had the chance to visit the set of <\/span>The Lucy Show<\/span><\/i>. The image of Lucille running the whole show, in control, powerfully coordinating an immense team behind the scenes while moments later playing a sweet, passive character in front of the cameras, never left his mind. This dichotomy fascinated him and and it translates in various ways throughout his work. I must say that hearing your favorite artist talk about his favorite artist really puts things into perspective.<\/span><\/p>\n

Todd\u2019s original plan was to be a professor and make experimental arthouse films. He never aspired to be a Hollywood director. It all happened by accident and unexpectedly when his first feature film, <\/span>Poison<\/span><\/i> (1991), won Sundance\u2019s Grand Prize and the Berlinale\u2019s Teddy Award, making a big fuss at the time and even being boycotted by the far right. A few Golden Globe and Oscar nominations later, he is still unlikely to become a film professor anytime soon.<\/span><\/p>\n

He does, however, have one piece of advice to share with newcomers and young filmmakers: \u201cThe practice of filmmaking, for me, is to always feel like you are a student of the medium. And that even things that you feel you’ve achieved or explored deeply, there’s going to be another place to turn. And that will strip you naked once again and make you scared and make you curious.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

This year, Todd is the president of the jury that decides which film brings home the infamous Golden Bear, and he is currently working on an untitled project with Joaquin Phoenix, adding to his period drama collection. It\u2019s a queer love story between a police officer and a Native American social activist set in the \u201930s. So far, more can\u2019t be revealed, but it is very much long-awaited.<\/span><\/p>\n

Having the opportunity of listening to Todd Haynes was unimaginable for me. After all, even though Berlin can be harsh, dark and cold, from time to time, it can also make dreams come true.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Berlin can be a harsh city, not gonna lie. My first day in Berlin was the opening of the 66th Berlinale in 2016, and I remember vividly how scared I was by the city\u2019s size, darkness, and coldness. At the time, I was a young film student in Cologne, researching queer true story adaptations, with […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":19,"featured_media":10932,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[114,3,6,108],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10876"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/19"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10876"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10876\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10940,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10876\/revisions\/10940"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10932"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10876"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10876"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yun-berlin.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10876"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}