Goldberg Variations

By Elliot V. Kotek

Co-write a clever script; cast Giovanni Ribisi, Franka Potente, Christina Ricci, Vince Vaughn, Elvis Costello, Nicky Katt, Joshua Jackson, Jason Lee, Jared Harris, Shalom Harlow, Rick Hoffman, and Lake Bell; finance; shoot; debut at an internationally renowned festival. Then sell for immediate theatrical release... right?

I caught up with Adam Goldberg in Oklahoma, where he was laying down tracks with members of The Flaming Lips for a forthcoming album; ordering KFC Chicken Tenders; afflicting Sheriff, his miniature pinscher, with the Brian Wilson-inspired alias, "Dr. Landy"; and reflecting on the two-year, ditch-filled road to distribution for his sophomore directorial effort, I Love Your Work.

Shot over 25 days in 2003, Work chronicles the self-destruction of an actor from his own alluring but often illusory point of view. Bravely portrayed by Giovanni Ribisi, the film's protagonist is besieged not only by smothering fandom, fame and a volatile celebrity marriage, but by the intangible subjectivity of belonging to the acting profession - and by a haunting love remembered as ideal, not least because of its loss.

Lauded for scene-stealing sojourns in Saving Private Ryan, A Beautiful Mind and Dazed and Confused (not to mention his run as Joey Tribbiani's psychopathic roommate on Friends), Adam Goldberg's work in front of the lens is more recognizable than his time behind it, despite being bitten by both creative bugs in his early teens. Testimony for his directing ability from Ribisi and Ricci regards Goldberg's inspired storytelling, contemporary Cassavetes-ian approach to collaborative film-making and experimentation with music. Indeed, his multi-slashing as director/co-writer/composer demands the native Californian be labeled an "auteur," a moniker rarely lavished on filmmakers outside New York.

You were not alone if you missed Goldberg's feature directorial debut. Music for the jazz-riff-filled Scotch & Milk was never cleared by the composers' estates, and the film can't be shown publicly, but Goldberg admits, "In many ways [it is the reason] I ended up composing the music on I Love Your Work."

Although he's worked with Ron Howard, consults Don Roos and counts Richard Linklater among his close friends, about his directing style, Goldberg states simply, "My style, especially thematically, was set in motion when I was making movies at 15, so I can't really credit any particular director I've worked with." What he does credit to Linklater is the relationship he has, and cultivates, with his actors and crew. "I was spoiled. Dazed and Confused was the first or second acting experience for most of the people in that film, so for us to be able to collaborate with Rick, to have input and be able to improvise, felt like a natural process. It wasn't until later that I realized how rare an experience that was."

He's made it his norm. As Ricci recalls with enthusiasm, "When I signed on, I got this huge book from Adam... There were articles on schizophrenia and erotomania, pictures of different wardrobe styles, and library lists for you to check out movies from his house - all because he wanted a truly collaborative experience for everyone on set, so that everyone could have input and share ideas. Everyone on the movie felt valued, and that is what I think independent film is all about."

Despite compelling performances in the film and the star status of its cast and captain, I Love Your Work's debut at the Toronto Film Festival in 2003 and subsequent screening at South by Southwest (SXSW) was not immediately followed by a theatrical release.

"I think we were all surprised," says Ricci. "What we were really surprised to hear was how difficult people found it to separate Adam as an actor from what he may present as a director. Because he was known for comedic performances, they seemed angry with him for trying to show them something different. [But] he's not in the film and he hadn't told anyone the film was funny." Observing, "It's an emotional industry unless you're purely on the moneymaking end of it, which we're not," she continues, "You learn to accept disappointment early on, and it is heartbreaking, but some people fight. Adam is very tenacious; I don't think he ever stopped trying to get it out there. I know I didn't ever believe it wasn't going to be distributed."

Goldberg confides he found the long chase for a distributor deeply frustrating, but says, "You just have to turn off a part of yourself for however long that period lasts."

The phases taken by the film and its finances play out in the film's incongruous opening credits, listing a dozen production entities and ending with the satirical title of Goldberg's own production company, "In association with... In Association With Productions." Goldberg jokes, "The opening producer credits feel like they last a good quarter of the film. It was a fascinating experience as to how insane this business really is. You become immersed in what goes into who gets credited and what happens when the movie's over, how uninterested most people are in post-production - and it kills me, because that's where the film is completely shaped."

Even the production process was plagued by its share of uncertainty: Aware of the "bridging-loan" nature of some of the producer's arrangements, Goldberg took a tentative approach to the shooting budget, spending less than half of the film's $1.5 million cost during production. Confirming the director's worst fears, midway through production, CanWest's production division, Fireworks, became defunct. After catching up with the paper trail, Goldberg relates, "I began to understand Lenny Bruce's mentality when he started getting onstage and just reading court transcripts. I took myself to entertainment law school over the past year or so, and realized that, ultimately, you have to rely on yourself."

Goldberg's self-reliance isn't a bad thing for someone with strong ideas and the complete trust in a close cast and crew to realize those ideas. Goldberg stamps each of the film's elements with bold directorial choices and a disturbing score, conveying the sensibilities of an artistic voyeur, challenging the audience, and resulting in a visual and aural wonderland reminiscent of cinematic classics The King of Comedy, Stardust Memories and The Killing of a Chinese Bookie.

For the work of any new director to garner comparisons to Scorsese, Cassavetes and Woody Allen, something must be going right. Goldberg makes no bones about it: "The King of Comedy was that movie early on - when I first got turned on by movies - that had a big influence on me. The tone just blew me away." Because I Love Your Work and King of Comedy take place through the eyes of a single person, he notes, "The mood has to reflect that person's psyche... I felt the way I shot Work was completely honest for this film."

For most scenes, Goldberg used regular 35mm film stock, but for scenes involving Christina Ricci's character, he used a reversal of the film without cross-processing, which imbues Ribisi's romanticized reminiscences with an intentionally surreal, Technicolor feel.

I Love Your Work has ended up in esteemed company at ThinkFilm, distributors of Spellbound and Being Julia. Goldberg now has time to take a breath, ponder his next directorial effort and consider his ideals. "The ideal day, when it's not just sitting in the sun listening to music on my iPod, has to be a workday that completely exercises every ounce of my mania."