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Interview with Paul Laverty, member of the Feature Films Jury
For thirty years Paul Laverty has written the films of Ken Loach – The Wind That Shakes the Barley (2006), I, Daniel Blake (2016), Sorry We Missed You (2019) – and those of his wife, Spanish director Iciar Bollaín. The first “pure” screenwriter to sit on the Jury in over thirty years, he is a member of the Feature Films Jury, presided over by Park Chan-wook.
As a screenwriter, does a script that draws attention to itself bother you?
I think I’ve been doing it so long that I’m always aware of it. But when you notice the script while watching a film, I think that’s actually a weakness – it means the script is drawing attention to itself. George Orwell talked about writing being like glass, transparent. What you see is the story. If you’re very aware of clever lines of dialogue, it takes me out, it breaks the spell. When it works – when it’s truly transparent – I’m greatly appreciative, because it’s such a difficult thing to do.
Do you have a method when you start writing?
Every story is different, and they all have a different starting point. For a historical drama like The Wind That Shakes the Barley (2006), I steeped myself in the history of Ireland first, the contradictions, the grand narrative. Then I had to forget all of that and think about character. Every single character in that film is fiction, which was very important. It gives you more freedom as a writer when you haven’t got an actual historical figure to follow. Other stories just land in your lap by accident. Besides, the whole film process is steeped in collaboration, from the DOP to the musician to the actors. Ken always detested the auteur theory, even though he has such a big mark on the films. And in that whole process, Rebecca O’Brien (our producer) has allowed us to spend all our time on the creative side, where so many people spend five, six, seven years just trying to raise the finance.
Can you tell me about how Eric Cantona came into the picture?
He came to see Ken, and I was there. He had an idea – a fan who followed him from Leeds United to Manchester United – which was a good story, but not one I could write. But just seeing Eric, meeting him, made me think of something else I’d wanted to write for a long time. I asked him if he’d be up for it, told him what the summary of the story might be. He just laughed and said: let’s go for this.
You wrote The Olive Tree (2016) for Iciar Bollaín : how did that story come to you?
I read an article years ago about olive trees going back to the time of Christ being dug up and sold to banks and corporations around the world. Something about the idea of a tree that has been there for 2,000 years just wouldn’t leave me. I didn’t have time to write it for ten years. Then eventually I went to see the olive trees, walked around them, met the people there. Once you go and speak to people, it allowed us to talk about Spain, what we value, family, relationships.
And the one from Sorry We Missed You (2019) with Ken Loach?
I was fascinated by someone tied to an algorithm, driving a van, thinking himself free but actually turning himself into a slave. William Blake talked about mind-forged manacles. That fascinated me. It’s all these different ideas that come together gradually, and the story emerges. Then I put it down on paper, ask myself a lot of questions, share it with Ken. We’re our own toughest critics. Is there something here worth spending two years of our lives on? Is it rich enough? Does this small conflict echo something much bigger? I always find it very interesting to examine power in the story, who has it.
Your films can be very dark, but there’s always humour in them. Where does that come from?
My experience is that there is great comedy in life, even in the toughest circumstances. If you spend time with workers, or go to a factory, or just spend time with anyone, there are moments of great joy and mirth. Life has a lot of fun and contradiction in it, and we try to capture that. Even in I, Daniel Blake (2016), which is a tragedy, there are moments where you just laugh at what people get up to.
Can you remind us how you met Ken Loach?
I was working in Central America as a human rights lawyer – a direct witness to the terrorist war the CIA was waging through the Contras against Nicaragua. When I came back, I was sick of writing reports. I thought I was going to make a film. I wrote to dozens of directors. Ken was one of the few who actually answered me.
I had this idea that became Carla’s Song (1996). He said: it’s a long way, I don’t speak Spanish, there’s a war on, there’s no film industry there. I told him I was going to do it anyway. He said: just try and write a few scenes. And then that was like a drug. You stop describing a character and start imagining their voice, their dialogue. The whole first half of the film just poured out. From meeting Ken to getting the film made took five years, but Ken was brave enough to do it, and very few other directors would have.
