Three Great Things is Talkhouse’s series in which artists tell us about three things they absolutely love. To mark the release of Garth Jennings’ new music documentary, Pulp: What Do You Do For An Encore?, focused on Jarvis Cocker’s iconic Britpop band, the English writer-director shared some of the things that he loves most. — N.D.
Enthusiasm
I've always been a great appreciator of things. I can fall in love with things very quickly. I mean, a lasagna at the right time can be for me the best lasagna I've ever had -- even if it’s exactly the same as the last one I had! And I’ve found, weirdly, that my sense of gratitude for tiny things has just tripled as I've got older. It's to the point where I'm a bit worried about what the next decade is going to be like. Am I going to be able to survive, or will I short-circuit from all this enthusiasm?
Magical moments are appearing in my life more and more, and I think the reason why I'm still making work is because I'm trying to impart that joy to other people. I'm trying to make something lovely that will affect them in the same way that so much of my life affects me. I feel incredibly grateful for my life.
There's a song in The Sound of Music called “Something Good,” where Julie Andrews’ character asks, What did I do to deserve this moment? Because it's just perfect. And I keep thinking I must have had the most horrific past lives – I must have been dragged through the streets and put in the stocks and beheaded – because there's no other way to account for how lovely this life is for me. For instance, I've been married for 25 years and been together with my wife for 30 years, and she's the love of my life, and my best friend. It doesn't make sense to me that I could be with somebody after 30 years and it's still so great and exciting.
So, I have a great enthusiasm for life. Over the years, I've mostly kept it quiet, because I don't want to sound like I’m bragging. And by the way, it's not been devoid of heartbreak and misery and a lot of pain, but there's always a reservoir of melancholy under everything.
I don't think it's an accident that I ended up making this film about Pulp, who made an album called We Love Life. Although my involvement in the film was kind of an accident! I wasn't asked to do it and I had a lot going on, so it made absolutely no sense to do, other than I love Pulp. When I hear their music and I see them play, I feel that same thing that stirs me and elevates me. It's why I fell in love with music as a kid, and cinema also just elevates everything and gives us something to aim for. The aim is beautiful and maybe not attainable, but the act of aiming for it is the goal.
To Be or Not To Be
I came embarrassingly late to To Be or Not to Be by Ernst Lubitsch, which I only saw for the first time a couple of years ago. A dear friend of mine said, “Oh, you have to see it!” And by about five minutes in, I was thinking, “How have I not seen this before!?” It's literally everything I love about movies and art and people. Just the spirit of it, the audacity of it. It was made in 1942, in the middle of World War II, and Lubitsch was so gloriously ballsy and punk rock in his ideas. The opening with the fake Hitler walking through the streets – I found that so damned inspiring. It felt like being given a lesson, like I was back in film school and being reminded, This is how you do it.
The writing is amazing and the opening five minutes are insane, just perfection, but the whole spirit of it reminded me that no matter what kind of film you are making, you have to shoot for the moon. And you must never lose sight of the audience and the reason you are making the film. Watching To Be or Not to Be felt like a thunder-and-lightning experience that recharged my entire brain and body to continue to do better.
My Sons
I've got four children, four boys. The youngest is 16, the eldest is 23, and they're amazing. They're like a little gang. I always thought when you had children, they’d be like a blank canvas and my wife and I would sort of pour the color and the experience onto them. But no, they came out with 99 percent of their personality already there. My wife and I have certainly played a vital role, but I didn't realize the boys would be so unique from the get-go. And I continue to watch aspects of them emerging, which is beautiful.
My eldest son is a very quiet soul, unlike me (I could chat with people literally all day!). He's like a quiet mountain shepherd, and that's how he's always been. He’s someone who doesn't blow his own trumpet, who doesn't make a big song and dance out of things. And he’s always loved stories. He has dyslexia, but despite that, he has just plowed on, because he loves telling stories. Recently he's been creating books, not telling us anything about it, just doing it. He just sent me a book of fables and, honestly, it was one of the greatest moments of my life. I found the stories really, really moving, because it felt like I was seeing the light go on in my eldest kid, and it was like, Oh my God, there he is! I've always known who he is, but these beautiful stories showed me hidden depths to him. This guy's been living in our house for 23 years, and I had no idea I was living with a wizard, with a magical creature!
Reading my son’s stories was a magical, beautiful moment for both me and my wife. It felt like I was now looking at him through a different lens, like he'd lifted some sort of curtain. And that was quite lovely. One of the stories felt like it was in sync with something I was working on, but that I haven't quite cracked, so the first thing I did was ask him for advice on my project. So, he's already helping me work my own stuff out, and he's only just getting started as a writer.
