Photo by Abbot Genser
Erin Cressida Wilson
Issue #30
The screenwriter presents an untraditional biopic of photographer Diane Arbus with Fur
By Rebecca Flint-Marx
Published: December 1st, 2006 | 12:00am
Fur announces its intentions — and a disclaimer — from the get-go. Subtitled An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus, the film bears as much relation to a traditional biopic as a Vanda orchid does to a daisy.
Set in 1958, the film opens as the photographer (played by Nicole Kidman) visits a nudist colony on her first professional assignment. The story then moves backward, imagining the turning point in Arbus’ life when she evolved from a dutiful mother and assistant to her photographer husband to one of the century’s most original and transgressive artists. Paying homage to Arbus — to whom many fans feel an almost proprietary relationship — in such a manner takes both nerve and nuance.
Fortunately, as they demonstrated in 2002 with their collaboration on Secretary, director Steven Shainberg and screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson possess both in abundance. We talked with Wilson about the challenges of putting Arbus on the screen.
How did you begin writing Fur?
I looked at the facts from her life to create an imaginary portrait that came from me as a writer and that was written for Steven as a director. It’s an interpretation of what we found most amazing about Diane’s life, what was most human and beautiful. We produced a story of a woman who meets and engages in a romantic relationship with her imagination and becomes herself.
How tough was it to break through the traditional, “just the facts, m’am,” biopic formula?
It’s remarkable how difficult it has been to do something that isn’t what we normally see; it’s astonishing to me to have an actor imitate a person and to chronicle the events of person’s life. Why not create a story about a woman from another land and capture something deeper and harder?
And something that doesn’t dwell on her suicide.
It’s more respectful to Arbus and her memory to not start on the day when she killed herself. Let’s not make that our memory of her. What is so moving and inspirational is what she did in her life.
And there was a lot in her life to write about.
There are so many movies that can be made of Diane Arbus. It’s virtually impossible to figure out what really happened between her and the dwarf, the giant, anybody. So why go out and become a documentarian and drill holes into people? I think that remains a beautiful secret, and in some ways, I tried to respect that.
Did you speak with people who knew Arbus?
I know people that knew her. She was extremely hard to put your finger on. I tried to capture things I heard about her. She had a childish voice and incredible eyes that looked at you, looked through you. Those are the kinds of details that interest me rather than she jumped all over the city photographing people and had to fight for her cause. That’s the man’s biopic of her.
Where everything is done to an operatic, let’s-canonize-a-saint degree.
All this crying and hysterics that are supposed to make real the person. A lot of times, the story of women ends tragically when they put themselves out there like she did. In a very literal world, you’d walk out and say, “Well, she killed herself, see what happened to her.” I thought, “Why don’t we stop before she kills herself?” I don’t want to judge her suicide.
What role did Arbus’ actual photos play in your work?
They were very connected with the visual vocabulary that I used to write, in terms of creating scenes. The most obvious would be [the film’s] opening scenes with the nudists. The picture she took of a couple in their living room where the guy has his legs open and the woman is in high heels.
Do you have a favorite Arbus photo?
One that comes to mind is the baby crying. It’s so sad and off-putting and so sweet at the same time. Her photos combine opposites: you sort of want that baby to get out of your face, and at the same time, to pet that baby.
Did you worry at all that people would go into the movie looking for hard facts, or for the “real” Diane Arbus?
It didn’t occur to me for one minute because I don’t approach films [that] way. It seems a lot of people want to hit all the comfort zones and come out feeling they know Diane Arbus. When I watch this film, I know something about her I couldn’t have found in a conventional biopic; it takes time to slowly get into an artist’s mind.
What are you working on now?
A remake of The Hunger. It’s so much fun, I can’t even tell you; everybody knows you can leave the realm of the literal world.
Comments
Please login to be able to comment on this article.
more