Nicolas Winding Refn‘s 11th film, “Her Private Hell,” is a long way away from the grounded work many fans are familiar with, like “Drive” and “Bronson.” The feature, now in theaters via Neon, is a neon-drenched sci-fi tale of an actress, Elle (Sophie Thatcher), a soldier, Private K (Charles Melton) and a killer known as Leatherman who move around a futuristic city in a dreamy fog. It’s a sexy, sweaty and divisive film, which premiered at Cannes to mixed reviews but is certain to draw a cult audience, like his most recent movie, 2016’s “The Neon Demon,” to which “Hell” feels like a mysterious and fashionable companion piece.
The Danish filmmaker spoke to Variety about the ideas behind “Hell,” its bombastic score, creating the unique visuals and much more.
In a way, you can say everything I’ve done has led to this film, because it’s a kind of an amalgam of everything that I’ve ever done, everything that I like to see. So that’s how it all began. But also freeing myself from conventions in a day and age of algorithms.
It all started with two ideas. I had an idea of Private K going to hell. And then I had an idea of a young woman coming to a city that doesn’t exist. What combined them was that they were both very artificial, because they were set in worlds that didn’t exist. But in order to connect them together, they needed the tip of a triangle. That became Leatherman, because he would service both storylines.
I said it had to have a lot of color, almost like color candy. Everything had to be very fluffy, so you’d want to eat it like whipped cream with injected color coats. It needed to be an opera, with everything that comes with that.
We’d been casting for a year, and Sophie came in very late for a general meeting. Right when I saw her, I just knew it was her. She had a wonderful audition, but I’d already made up my mind that she was the one, purely on instinct. I don’t know what it was. There was something about her that intrigued me. She had these eyes that were incredibly seductive, like an old movie star. Because she had to carry the movie, once she was in play, everything started to fall into place. But it took a year or so.
I think that had more to do with a human desire to preserve cinemas. Cinemas have always been the cheapest form of entertainment that we collectively could experience together. It’s always been the lowest common denominator for all of us to meet on equal terms. In today’s world, so much digitalization is not necessarily healthy for the mind or the soul, for that matter. I want to make films for cinemas. I feel like, by law, every village in the world should have a single-screen cinema. We’re getting so divided by the politicians, so when they’ve stolen all our money and created all the wars, it is what brings us together. But it’s not so much what you see, it’s how you see it. We can all sit on our isolation pads and experience this, see something, which we all do. I do it, and I think it’s a beautiful invention. I wouldn’t want to not have that. But I think for the human soul, we also need to come together.
I like to see everything. It’s a different world out there from when I was younger in terms of what’s getting made and so forth. But there are still a lot of good films, and it’s hard to kind of pinpoint anything specific because it’s not so much about the film. It’s the fact that I feel good about going to a movie theater of quality and handing them my hard-earned money, because I think that it’s a contribution. It’s like going into a video store that still operates, or a record store or a bookshop. You feel you are servicing a higher purpose.
What drives me? I wear my emotions on my sleeve, and if I can’t find a way to release them, I’ll probably be unbearable to be around. So in a way, I’m making the world a better place by not being unbearable.
Filming the actual production is only half the work. So I always divide it up into four sections: thinking up the idea, writing the script, shooting the script and all the completion of post. Those four stages are four ways to change the entire project. Obviously, it gets more and more difficult from the practicalities, but still, you can completely change things. Then when it gets to the actual post-production, you’re dividing it up into three sections. There’s visuals, music and sound. So of the fourth section, there are actually three separate categories that still need to be aligned. It’s not until the film is completely done, meaning that’s when you deliver to the nest an egg, that’s when you let go.
It was the only movie I made where I didn’t have a sound in my mind. I didn’t have a clear idea of the music, which I’d never really tried before. But I also think it was God saying to me, “You need to make that opera you’ve always wanted to make.” Once I accepted the terms from God, I had to find a composer who did film music and opera. Where else can you go but Italy? There I discovered all the composers were dead from that period that you and I would define as the golden era of soundtracks, film music and so forth. The only one that was alive was Pino Donaggio, who, in a way, was the best one because I’d used his past scores as reference or inspiration music. It seemed there’s a meaning here, there’s a path.
So I met with Pino, who was basically in semi-retirement, in his mid-80s. I asked him if he wanted to write an opera. He said, “Absolutely.” And I said, “But you’re going to die soon. Could you make it a requiem?” He found that very funny, so we had great humor. I also made it very clear that in an opera apparatus you start with the music — now, I’m actually ending with the music. So I’ve built this entire infrastructure with veins, and there’s a heart but there’s no blood. “Your music is going to be the blood that ties the entire movie together. So I’m betting my one chip, my one black chip on one number, and you’re the guy. Good luck.” The music … it was luck; it was fantastic to hear.
One of my favorite memories was sitting in Rome after we had done the mix and Pino had a little too much wine, and he started imitating Elvis Presley. I thought, “That’s fuckin’ cool.”
You don’t engage. It’s no longer your world. It’s everyone else’s, and you’re just an observer. I just go back to my gardening.
The problem is I don’t know how to garden. So I basically just play Legos instead. I build flowers out of Lego.
I just got the Tintin Rocket, which is just absolutely amazing, and I’m looking forward to building it. It’s a great way to be creative without making an effort, other than just putting blocks together of plastic.
I think AI is a difficult discussion because it’s always narrowed down to one thing: good or bad. I think we need to separate the silos a little bit. From a social academic effect, I’m obviously very concerned because I don’t think having fewer people with opportunities is a healthy way for society to exist. The inequality that’s already skyrocketing is by no means a positive evolution. I don’t like the people that represent that world very much, at least I haven’t met anyone yet. I’m not saying they’re not amazing visionaries, but a vision comes with a responsibility.
I’m a humanitarian. I believe in the goodness of humans. I believe that we find happiness in common sharing. I think AI is good for revolutionizing certain aspects of the medical industry or information, and certain access to information. At the same time, it’s messed with our already reconstructed reality. I’m concerned about it there very much. But as a creative tool, meaning just a brush, I’m very intrigued by it. But is it going to have consequences? Absolutely. Do I condemn those? Absolutely. Do I think it should be regulated? Absolutely. Does it need to be controlled by an outside body? Absolutely. I think it’s a government responsibility, the same way that the government offers water and the internet.
It’s the only thing we ever talk about. Besides all the other things that go through our minds, it always comes down to that essence of “When are we going to do it again?” We know we have a third movie in us. We just have to find the one. But once you know it, you’re halfway there.
Oh, it’s like Christmas. You gotta wait until the tree comes, and the packages will arrive with Santa Claus.
I like the concept. I bought the rights many years ago, and I’ve sat on it, and there have been numerous opportunities to try to make it, but maybe it was never the right time. I very much believe in faith and the right time. Now’s the right time, and it was also easy for me to put it together, and we are shooting next year in L.A.