Audio transcription

Goodbye Solo introduction and post-screening discussion with Haden Guest and Ramin Bahrani. Saturday April 11, 2009.

Haden Guest 0:00
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Harvard Film Archive. My name is Haden Guest and I'm very, very happy to see a packed house for this the first night in our retrospective dedicated to one of the most remarkable and original voices in American independent cinema, Ramin Bahrani, who joins us tonight. Ramin Bahrani has only made four films, but already he has become one of the best-known names in contemporary American cinema among those who know what is good cinema—and many of our illustrious film critics are here in the audience tonight from Boston. Reading the most recent reviews and debates about what Ramin's work represents, it's quite extraordinary to see the unanimity of praise for the authenticity of character and place and emotion in these films, and especially in the film that we're going to see tonight. This is, of course, a very special screening of Goodbye Solo, Ramin’s most recent film, a film that's going to be released later on this month, on the 17th of April at the Kendall Square Cinema. I'm really happy that we have the opportunity to speak with Ramin after the screening tonight and so definitely, definitely don't go anywhere. And we're also going to be screening an earlier work from 1998 called Backgammon, a rarely screened work that's going to be screened after our conversation. So, another reason to stay around. I want to thank Roadside Attractions and Dusty Smith for making this screening possible. They were incredibly, incredibly generous and flexible, and it was only with their help that we were able to bring Ramin and this film here for a special preview screening. And now please join me in welcoming Ramin Bahrani.

[APPLAUSE]

Ramin Bahrani 2:31
Hello. I should first say, with all due respect to Haden, first I should say Le Corbusier... Just pretty cool for me to be here. And then I want to acknowledge Haden and Harvard for having me, especially because even though I had a little retrospective at the MoMA and Walker Art Center, it was actually Haden that contacted me almost two years ago, before I had even made Goodbye Solo, to show my films, and I asked him to hold for Goodbye Solo. But you were the first person to contact me and I appreciate that very much.

Goodbye Solo’s my third film made here in America. I made it in my hometown, where I was born and raised in Winston Salem, North Carolina. And it came from an encounter with a Senegalese taxi driver there who was very open, very warm, very friendly, and also kind of funny, and had a great spirit about him. And I spent almost six months with him, and this story was actually coming to be and being developed during the height of the Iraq War conflict. And at that time I began thinking about Roberto Rossellini’s film from 1950 Flowers of St. Francis, which he made after his war trilogy, [Rome] Open City, Paisan and Germany Year Zero. And I think, actually, Flowers of St. Francis is his best war film. And it was a film that he thought the world needed at that time, the spirit of Francis, and I was wondering if we needed the spirit of somebody like Solo. And so we began to work on a film about a man who wanted to help a stranger, despite the fact that people said, “Why would he want to do that?” And that just made me more encouraged to make the film. And so I hope in this film you'll enjoy Solo’s spirit, and we can talk about it afterwards. Thank you.

[APPLAUSE]

Haden Guest 4:39  
A reminder to everyone to please turn off cell phones and any electronic devices. Take a minute to do it. If you don't know how to turn off your cell phone, ask the person next to you. I'm sure they do. Thank you very much.

Haden Guest 5:02
And before we open the floor to questions, I thought we could begin up here first. And I mean, this film is admirable, on so many different levels and for so many different reasons. In my mind, one of its great strengths is the things you decide to leave out as much as the things that you decide to show. I think, for instance, of this character Pork Chop who we never see, as being something small but significant that we're denied, we're not allowed to see. But also just the beginning of the film. The film begins very much in medias res, where we don't see how the characters first meet, but the film is already like the taxicab they're in, moving swiftly, swiftly forward. I'm wondering if you could talk a bit about the structure of this film maybe. And perhaps the beginning of the film as well.

Ramin Bahrani 6:01
I’ll tell you about Pork Chop first because it’s kind of funny. Pork Chop was the real woman who was doing the dispatch when I was first hanging out at the taxi stands. And when I went back to make the film—the story for this originates really in 2005. That's when I first started working on the treatment. I knew the taxi driver from even before then. And when I went back down there in ’05, Porkchop was doing dispatch. When I went back in ‘07 to make the film, she wasn't there anymore. And I tracked her sister down at a Shell gas station, who then told me that Pork Chop was at Super Kmart right down the road. And I went over there, and I didn't really know her name. So I had to go say, “Excuse me, is Pork Chop here?” And they said, “Oh, you mean Crystal.” And so, Crystal, aka Pork Chop, was working in the back office on the phone, and she wouldn't come out to meet me. She would only talk to me through the phone. And I said, “Pork Chop, I want to make a movie. Would you play yourself and do your voice for the dispatch?” And she said yes and we traded numbers, and then she never answered my calls and I never saw her again. And the woman working dispatch at that time was named Peaches. And Peaches has a tattoo of a peach here, because she caught a cold when she was three and her family fed her peaches for a week, and she got better. And so she stayed Peaches ever since. And Peaches doesn't look like Pork Chop. Peaches is Peaches and Pork Chop is…and I said, “Would you be Pork Chop?” And she said yes. And she wants to be a singer. That's why she has a great voice. And actually, in her scenes, she's operating dispatch at the same time, which is tricky because she has very scripted dialogue. When Solo is charming her, you know, in that first scene when he wants to get the cab, she's actually answering the phone and the dispatch at the same time, which is really hard. And they still deliver the dialogue, you know.

For years, the opening line in the script is: “Hahaha, why are you laughing?” It wasn't created later, that was from day one. In fact, there were three rules that I established with my co-writer. One was: the movie will always begin like this. Two was: unlike the last two films, nobody will be hiding money in a jar to buy anything. And the third rule was that there would be humor. I didn't stay for the film; I hope people were laughing, I don't know. Part of the reason was, there were two main reasons: one was my assumption How many people knew what the film was about? Okay. So my assumption is most times when you go to see a movie, especially if it's not like a sneak thing, but if you read the review of it in the paper beforehand, you know what it's about. So why spend twenty minutes hiding? You know, why don't I just start the movie? And then the second reason was, well, if I could just start it, then I can get into what the movie’s actually about, which is Solo's reaction to what he learns in the first scene, and his journey of understanding what friendship could be. That journey he takes. So I wanted to get to that quickly and not linger on the setup of it. It's actually timed for a light that goes [GESTURES]. It’s 23 takes, the first shot. I think 23 or 24 takes, because there's no cut, and it has to be perfect. And we would pull out of a little parking lot and get onto the road. And I noticed there was a turn. We’d have to go onto that road and I saw this nice light. So it's been timed for the first frame, the very first frame—Monday you get the DVD—it's a little light that goes like this on the windshield. It's almost saying, you know, Hello. Now the movie can start, you know.

Haden Guest 9:52
Let's talk a bit about the casting of the film because I think that's certainly on everyone's minds who sees extraordinary performances, especially Solo himself. He seems to be so perfectly suited for this role. And as I understand, this is his first performance?

Ramin Bahrani 10:14
Yeah, the real taxi driver—When I went back in ‘07, we'd already spent a lot of time together. When I went back, I noticed he was elusive, and it was hard to track him. And after ten days or so of him being strange, he finally said he doesn't want to be in the film. Then we looked in North Carolina, New York, L.A. Tapes came from several African countries, tapes came from England. After Chop Shop was in Cannes, I went to Paris and we had a casting session there. And one day Solo walked into the office in New York and just smiled. Oh, there he is. And my first casting session is a Q&A usually to learn about the person, and I learned in that time that he had actually been a flight attendant for two years. And he didn't know what the film was about and that was already in the film. And I should add, as a side note, there's a young lady here, who has cast Souleymane prior to this film in a small project she had done. Right, where are you? Yeah.

[TO HER:] And so you already knew Solo and his wife. Hello.

But this is his feature film debut. It marks a change for me because Solo and Red West are trained actors. My previous films have almost exclusively non-professionally trained. And in this film, every other person in the movie is a local, non-professional actor that's never seen a script, actually. Only Solo and Red West saw a script. No one else in the film to this day even knows what the movie’s about. So the grandson doesn't know why people are talking to him, and the wife doesn't know who that old guy is on her sofa. Does anyone know who Red West is? I know there's actually a Red West fan here. Yeah.

[TO Audience MEMBER:] I'm so grateful because now you saw my other films because of Red West.

Red West is Elvis Presley's best friend from childhood. And when Elvis was getting picked on, this was the guy standing up for him and then he became his personal bodyguard, part of the “Memphis Mafia” and a country songwriter, and he did stunt work in Elvis films and then after Elvis passed, he became a character actor in Hollywood working for Coppola, Robert Altman twice, Oliver Stone, and then big Hollywood fare like Road House and Glory Road, but this is his first leading role. And Red West, in fact, he just emailed me. I was excited to see the email. He’s told me, “Ramin, at the age of 71 I'm going to be discovered.” I hope so.

Haden Guest 12:46  
And how did you discover him?

Ramin Bahrani 12:48
There was a chance here to work with a kind of a known actor, which I thought would have been a distraction. Like, I think Robert Duvall is an amazing actor, but it would have been a different film with him in the back seat, right? And so we did a casting search in the Southeast because I really wanted a Southerner, you know. Walk, talk, look, dress like the South. And his agent responded. They had the first scene of the film and he taped himself, or whoever taped him, doing the first scene. I watched it for about five seconds, hit stop, and said, “This is the guy who has been in my mind for two years.” I called him, gave him a handful of simple directions. I didn't know who he was. First I found out who he was. Then I called him, gave him a handful of simple directions. He re-taped himself and he did everything I asked. And then he came from Memphis to Winston to do a rehearsal with Solo, and they were just perfect together. He looks like everything that as you said, doesn't have to be said.

Haden Guest 13:48
Right. I mean, to me, it seems to embody like the old South. Here he is in North Carolina chain smoking. This old, elderly white man in this community that's, you know, is changing in terms of its diversity.

Ramin Bahrani 14:01

He's like the Marlboro Man.

Haden Guest 14:03
Exactly. Exactly.

Ramin Bahrani 14:05
And it’s his own shoes in the film. I noticed his shoes, they were perfect. I said, “William, can you wear these shoes?” “Oh Ramin, they’re covered in manure.” Because he had a farm, you know, and a lot of horses. I said “Perfect.”

Haden Guest 14:19
In what ways did you, just to follow up on that, did you make changes to the script once you knew who your actors were? Were there changes made to the specificities of their personalities?

Ramin Bahrani 14:33
With Red it was just the confidence to continue not to do things, which the previous films don't do either. I can't remember honestly now anymore if the biker thing came after. I think maybe the biker gang came after meeting Red. It seemed like the most concise way to create a history of the guy. I think it was enough. Like that and the tattoo and that his wife left him. These small details were enough for you to get an idea. I do extensive rehearsals for months, and some of the improvisation will come up in those rehearsals. Like, I don’t know, “If I turn off this light and I don't smile, you won't know that I'm here.” He used to say that to his friends back home, because he was darker than them, and it was a joke that he had in his own life that he would say. So then little dialogues like that come up in rehearsals and then get transcribed and put into the script. And then when you're shooting the film, it's kind of like their own improvisation could be in the script now. I think the film has two improvised scenes. Their conversation about music. Then you do it ten more times to hone it down. And then there's one scene that happens only once which is probably my favorite—because I didn't write it so you get excited about them—which is when William looks at the phone, and sees Alex is taking a picture of Solo. And then “How did you do that?” I'm watching like, “I don't think he knows.” He does know, he’s just a great actor. And then he says “Rhetoric. Redirect.” You know. That happened only once. That's the only scene in the movie that happened only once. The rest of it's incredibly planned and scripted, and blocked and all that.

Haden Guest 16:22
You were telling me that you typically take six months just for research. Just research. That was true for this film as well?

Ramin Bahrani 16:31
Yeah. Yeah, I spent about six months with the real driver who doesn't want to be known. I can just call him O, the letter O, which is the beginning of his name, or his nickname. And so I spent six months riding around in the front seat of his cab, gathering details and information and just getting the sense of the feeling of the place. He has no story like this: he's not married, he does not want to be a flight attendant, he never met an old man. But he was incredibly charming, he was incredibly friendly. Anyone who got into his cab, no matter how upset they were or how mean they were to him, always somehow left happy. Even at his own expense, like sometimes he’d lose money just to get that person to leave feeling better. He always changed the radio station depending on who was there. You know, when his buddies came in, they wanted to do certain things, he would change it to that music for them and etcetera, you know. I tried to do those things here too. And reggae was his personal favorite. That was what he liked. But when his buddies got in, he would go to rap. If an older lady got in and he knew them, he may go to R&B or gospel, depending on who it was. And taxis in North Carolina aren’t like New York. In New York it’s basically, with rare exception, you have to be rich to take a cab, or late at night or airport or whatever. Here it’s actually mainly poor folks who take cabs, because they can't afford a car and car insurance, oil change and tire change and all that. So, most of our clientele were working class or worse, economically. That ended up being predominantly African American, Hispanic, and then a handful of white guys and gals.

Haden Guest 18:12
You were, of course, returning to your own hometown. I mean, this is something that you had been wanting to do to make a film?

Ramin Bahrani 18:19
Yeah. My assumption was I would always go back to Winston to make a movie and no one would know it came out of Winston, you know. Like, has anyone seen Junebug? I think it's a really great film, and Angus MacLachlan, the screenwriter, and Phil [Morrison] are friends and they're from Winston. And in fact, Junebug takes place in the same town. And Angus MacLachlan the screenwriter plays the crack passenger in the movie. And Angus is a friend and he told me something that I'd like to share with you because I think it's really interesting. He said you could play Junebug and Goodbye Solo back-to-back. Nobody would believe that it’s the same city, and they're both absolutely accurate. (He plays a good crack passenger.)

Haden Guest 19:04
He’s great in that. You teach film at Columbia, and you're also someone who's very well-versed in film, just from our conversations. One film that comes up frequently in relation to Goodbye Solo is Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry. Was that, in fact, a reference point or?

Ramin Bahrani 19:34
Has everyone seen it, maybe, or heard about it? Of course I know the film and I love Kiarostami’s work. And you can't ignore it in the same way you can't ignore, you know, The Fire Within, the Louis Malle film, or any film that deals with these subjects. The differences are so clear. That movie is about someone who wants to kill himself. This movie is about someone who wants to stop somebody. That movie takes place in one day and 90% of it is in a car. This is two weeks and it's 15 minutes in a car.  More important is something we have in Persian cultural and poetic tradition, which could be used in other contexts as well, which is something called tazmin, which is when one poet would take from another poet. You know, like Hafez or Khayyam may take from Ferdowsi, etcetera.  And you would take a rhyme, a beat, rhythm, an idea, a word or series of words, and confiscate it, put it into your own home and move off into another direction. Which is actually what Kiarostami himself does with the poet Sohrab Sepehri. Sohrab Sepehri has poems which names are: “Where is the Friend’s House?”; “The Wind Will Carry Us”; “Taste of Cherry” right?  And so these actually he's doing the same thing. The same way that Man Push Cart acknowledges a book by Camus called Myth of Sisyphus and moves off into another direction. So the reference was really accepting that this is a tradition. And, basically, the film is just something completely different. This movie gets to where his film arrives at in thirty minutes in about two and a half minutes. Which isn't to say one is better or worse—they’re just radically different.

Haden Guest 21:15
I'd like to take some questions from the audience. But I'm going to kindly ask everybody to wait for the audience mics which will be coming from either side. So that everybody can hear your question. So, let's begin. If you have a question, please raise your hand, starting right there at the back.

Audience 21:37
There's been a lot of talk. I guess I'll go back to the A.O. Scott article, the New York Times Magazine, that was largely an interview with you and talked about this idea “Neo-Neo Realism.”  I'm wondering if you consider your work as Realism or as Neo-Realism, if that's an important term to you. I'm also wondering about the role of class, economic class, in relation to your realism, if you want to call it that, both as an aesthetic and also as sort of a subject matter, a way of working. Sort of a wide-open question.

Ramin Bahrani 22:12
Yeah. Does anyone else know the article? Yeah. So a few weeks ago, Tony Scott wrote a piece in the Sunday magazine about Neo-Neo Realism as a movement in American cinema, contemporary American cinema, and he referenced some filmmakers, including me and So Yong Kim—I really love her films and I know you had her here recently. Treeless Mountain. I think A.O. Scott, like everyone, is correct to try to group things together, because that's how you begin a conversation. I don't want to say that I belong or don't belong to a group because I don't, I mean, I know So Yong Kim but we actually don't get together to talk about the movies we're making. I do think that a lot of what he's saying is true. You could just talk about Realism or Naturalism in general. I do want the films to feel natural or as if they have happened. In a lot of the ways that Tony talks about, for example, there is no soundtrack.  There's no fancy camera moves that call attention to themselves. The actors are not really recognizable. There are no dramatic shifts in story, which would feel potentially unrealistic to the viewer. And these are all done by choice for certain reasons. I don't think class has to be a part of it. I think you could make a film in the same style that would not deal with the working class. My three films have but I don't think they have to. I think even Renoir constantly talked about, “Why do people erect barriers, even in their day-to-day conversations, to eradicate the reality?”  And I don't know if we really talk about Renoir’s films as Realism, but I think they’re pretty real. I actually think Buñuel’s films are emotionally truthful, even though it's a different style. So I don't think class has to be a part of it. But I do think that I am doing that for a specific reason.

Audience: [INAUDIBLE]

Ramin Bahrani
Yeah, the reason is: if we are to be emotionally moved, and then intellectually concerned, or ponder or wonder about Solo's decision on that mountain top, it is a different emotion if he was played by Will Smith. That is not to say I think Will Smith is a good or bad actor. In fact, I think he's good, and if you put him up on the screen drinking a glass of water, I'm going to look at it. Because the guy has that ability. But if Solo is to love William that selflessly on that mountain, and I am to think, personally, “Could I be that way?” then Realism has to be the way it's made. I want to assume that people on screen pay the rent, or count on their fingers how many times they can eat out a month, which is my assumption—probably at least 80% of you do that.  Maybe there's a handful people who are lucky who don't think as much about it. And if I'm to be somehow moved or inspired by Solo or Alejandro or Ahmad’s decisions in the three films and their resilience, or their interactions with other people, I want to know that I could do it maybe.  And when I see a Hollywood film—or we might as well say an independent film now in America, because I don't know what the difference is anymore—I don't know those people. So they don't inspire me and they don't make me hopeful or cheery. I think they’re like a candy bar that feels good for five minutes and gives me a stomach ache when I go home. Even though the producers of Chop Shop produced Little Miss Sunshine, I don't find Little Miss Sunshine hopeful or inspiring. I don't recognize it. And that's one of the better ones maybe. People on screen don't look like the people I'm seeing in front of me right now. I like soup, you know: kind of hearty and nourishes you, you get better.

Haden Guest 26:17
Got a question right here in the front, and here comes the microphone.

Audience 26:23
How important is the issue of race for you in this film?  How did you decide to contextualize? [INAUDIBLE] The race issue in West Africa is very different from what it is here. And that shows up. [INAUDIBLE]  But it really shows up in these characters, in a real way and in a powerful way.

Ramin Bahrani 27:00
Yeah. Why a Senegalese guy was actually because a majority of the drivers in Winston were Senegalese. A lot of the other ones were African-American. And again, there were a handful of white guys. Honestly, if I'd made the movie in Greensboro, if I was born and raised in Greensboro, we would be watching a movie about a Sudanese driver. In Greensboro and in Charlotte, they're Sudanese. In Winston, they're Senegalese. Here, they're Nigerian, in Houston? Yeah, I was recently in Minneapolis and they were Kenyan. Haitian also?  The guy that drove me to the airport was from Kenya. I do think it would have been a different story had Solo been African American. I also think the movie would have been different if the character was Senegalese and wasn't Souleymane. I don't want to say that every Senegalese taxi driver, or everyone from Senegal, would do what Solo does. This would not be correct. I do think there's something exceptional about his spirit. You know, when I mentioned to Solo what the story was about and he got more engaged and he got the part, we were talking about it. He told me something that was very interesting in terms of how he was connecting to the character.  He kept telling me “I see my aunt, I see my uncle, I see my grandfather in William. And he said that in his culture, which is more of an oral based culture, that he said when an elderly person dies, it's like a library that burns. And I know about that, because Iranian culture is the same. There's a different respect for elderly. We don't really have nursing homes, per se. Your family just lives with you until they pass. And you know, if I'm sitting at a table and someone walks in that’s older than me, everyone should get up. This kind of cultural thing. And Solo understood that. At the same time I would say that I actually think Solo needs William, unconsciously, subconsciously. I've read—thank God the reviews have been good—but oftentimes these good reviews say Solo is studying to become a flight attendant. And I'm like, “Not really.”  He studies to become a flight attendant upon meeting William. And there's something about William’s determination, even though his determination is to do something horrific. There's something about his determination, which changes Solo in his own life. And I think he kind of needs William, and it's one of the reasons he's hanging around him. I don't think it's just that he is a nice guy and just the cultural part. I think there's one other layer as well. And that was important to me because I did not want to make, you know, Legend of Bagger Vance or whatever, where the Black angel comes down and saves the white guy and, like, teaches him how to drum or whatever. [Audience LAUGHTER] I studied at Columbia University and Edward Said would turn in his grave, you know. He exists and we read Orientalism and, you know.

Going back to A.O. Scott: anytime you say East and West—even I get upset with how you talk about it. Even though East and West is a construction to destroy imaginations, to destroy economies—still, sometimes you have to say it, going back to the gentleman in the back.

Haden Guest 30:12
Other questions from the audience?

Audience 30:22
Would you mind to tell how much was the budget for this production, and how many days you shot the movie?

Ramin Bahrani 30:29
The movie was shot in thirty days for just under a million.

Audience 30:47
You were saying that only the two main characters got scripts. Did Alex not have a script?

Ramin Bahrani 30:53
No. Yeah, in Man Push Cart and Chop Shop, nobody saw a script even though there was a detailed one. Here, I did not want to give one to Solo, but I came to learn in the rehearsals he was better with it. And then Red, he just had one because he was Red, and he would beat me up otherwise. [LAUGHTER] Tough guy. Actually he’s a really friendly guy, believe it or not. He’s a practical joker, Red. And I started alienating him in shooting. No one was allowed to talk to him, really. No one could compliment him on his work.  And he had one person that was assigned to make sure he had everything he needed: food, rest, he was hot or cold, whatever. But I was pushing him away. And by about two weeks, he came to me: “Ramin. I know why you're doing this, and I appreciate it.” Actually he was being serious. “I feel it now.” And he's like, “Keep leaving me alone.” Because he really wanted to get into that part. And at a certain point he didn't want to be bothered anymore either. Not giving a script is great sometimes because, for example, in the end of the film, the scene where Alex is quizzing Solo. Well, actually, I broke my own rule. My rule is cast the lead and cast everybody around the lead. And I've always done that. But this time, Alex was so good, and she came for two months, every Saturday to the auditions. Basically, for her, by that point rehearsal. I cast her first. And she was just like the script: smart, independent, mature. Which is kind of why her and William get along. They're the only people that love and don't bother you about it. I think that's why they like one another. And I remember we were rehearsing this final scene, and because she's smart, she pulled me aside so that Solo wouldn't hear her. And she said, “Ramin, why is Solo so sad?” Because she didn't know. I said, “Well I don't know—why do you think he's so sad?” She thought about it for a little bit. “I think he's sad because he failed his exam.” I said, “Well, why don't you encourage him?” And she’s like “I'm going to encourage him then.” And then somehow in the end, she not only encourages him, she encourages all of us, you know?

Audience 33:12
Watching your other three films, Chop Shop, Man Push Cart, and now this, you always end the film with a static shot that holds on for a while. Is that something that comes to you before you set about to make the film, as an image that you keep in mind to end your film with? Or does that just come about in the editing of your films?

Ramin Bahrani 33:33
I begin all my films with the ending. I was mentioning to Haden over coffee, I don't begin actually really writing much until I have the ending. And so that ending was there from the beginning. And I worked my way backwards. You know, I believe in the utmost importance of one human being’s interaction with another. How one person treats another person. And I hope that's evidenced in the film, and in the films. I don't want to make you upset but I also believe it's meaningless. And I think the landscape is there before and after us. And we have to accept that, and humble ourselves to that. And so I always want it to end on the landscape. So that shot had been there from the beginning, and I knew I wanted that section of Blue Ridge Parkway. And I just spent some time going there and finding where I could get the right vantage point and whatnot, and then just kind of pray for the fog. We knew the leaves would be like that, it was planned for the leaves. In fact, the ending was shot October 19, 20 and 21.

Audience 34:42
I’m in a class on Ozu at BU. Watching a lot of his films, I find a similar kind of approach, his still, static shots at the end that segue to a conclusion. Almost where you're kind of wondering, “When is the film about to end?” while it's ending. Just if you can, if you feel that you're influenced by Ozu at any time?

Ramin Bahrani 35:07
Yeah, I like Ozu, and I respect him very much. You can see him even in Chop Shop, you know. Those static shots before he goes to the truck stop to confront his sister for the last time. And you see three static locations that we've seen earlier in the film. I can't do it alone—I do it because I saw, you know, thirty Ozu films and he's great at, you know, filming this little thing three times, and we understand it's connected to that guy and his emotional story. So if I just see it alone, I think about him and his whole life, you know, and he's good at doing that. And so then those locations become in your mind, you know. I guess Chop Shop ends kind of static—there’s a two-minute, complicated—but then it ends in the sky in the end.

Haden Guest 35:57
A question over here. Yes, there's the mic.

Audience 36:00
You mentioned Rossellini. And you mentioned, one of the most, in my opinion, a masterpiece of Rossellini: I fiori di San Francesco. Do you see any analogy or similarities between Solo and the character that Rossellini portrayed when he did San Francesco according to his view?

Ramin Bahrani 36:25
Yeah, I mean, as I mentioned, it was on my mind. I think it's his best film, Flowers of St. Francis. As I mentioned earlier, that was a spirit that I was hoping to find.  And when I saw that driver, he had it, the real guy had that. I mean I'm not saying that he was Francis, or he was a saint. He's clearly a complicated guy with a lot of issues. One-hundred percent it was on my mind, as I mentioned in the beginning. Has anyone else seen the film, Flowers of St. Francis?  For those of you who haven't, I mean, along with this gentleman, I agree. It's great. I think it's his best film and you can rent it. It's a Criterion DVD, or if Haden ever screens it you can see it on the big screen. I was lucky to see it at the MoMA retrospective while we were working on the script.

Haden Guest 37:13
Other questions? Got one right here.   

Audience 37:22
Curious about your process working with non-actors, and what kind of challenges that may have presented, or how you adjusted to meet the sort of needs that they may have that other actors might not?

Ramin Bahrani 37:38
The main part of the director, in terms of getting a performance, is casting. If you cast well, you've pretty much solved most of the problems. And so I make the non-actors go to a lot of auditions before I ever give them the part. Sometimes it's just to see if they’ll show up on time. I mean you’re laughing but it becomes a problem. Like, after the third or fourth audition with Isamar from Chop Shop, I came to learn she's going to be habitually late.  So then you say, “If you come late again, I'm giving the part to her.” And you always have another person hanging around as a threat, you know. [LAUGHTER] So casting is a big part.  And then for most non-actors, depending on what I see them doing in an initial rehearsal, some of them are good from initial rehearsals, then you do a handful more to see if they can maintain it, if they're consistent. If they are, then they're okay. Others, you may have to wear them down over a period of time. You know, and you just, you beat certain things out of them. And usually those things are what they've seen in other movies. [LAUGHTER]  Like silent film stuff that you still see in the talkies these days, you know. So you just beat it out of them, like just wear them down, basically. A lot of times it’s like, “Don’t move your eyebrows”; “Stop doing this”; “Stop doing that.”

Audience 39:06
Yeah, if you were to ask the character Solo to be in a film, if you had been in his cab, why do you think he would have said no?

Ramin Bahrani 39:15
I don't understand. The real driver, or?

Audience 39:18
The real driver doesn't want to be in the film.

Ramin Bahrani 39:19
Right.

Audience 39:20
Why do you think someone like Solo would want to be in the film or not?  And if not, why?

Ramin Bahrani 39:25
Solo wanted to be in the film because he was a trained actor dying for his big break.

Audience 39:28
Sorry, the character Solo.

Ramin Bahrani 39:34
I can't answer that question without revealing why the real guy didn't want to do it. I can't say that. But part of it does have to do with his humility as a person. He was too humble. Part of it was he was too humble to want to be filmed. There are other reasons that I don't want to get into.

Audience 39:56
Two quick questions. You kind of indicated that maybe that yes, this is the case, but do you see your work as being anti-Hollywood?  

Ramin Bahrani 40:05
I see Hollywood as being anti-me.
[LAUGHTER]

Audience 40:08
And the second question is –

Ramin Bahrani 40:11
Why should I look to them?

Audience 40:12
Do you think that Solo will reconcile with his wife, in the future of his character?   

Ramin Bahrani 40:21
What do you think? Give him the mic.

Audience 40:24
I would like to think yes, but I’m not sure.

Ramin Bahrani 40:30
I like your thinking. [LAUGHTER] I don't want to be coy about it or annoy you, but if I tell you everything, which I cannot, because even when those characters die, I still won't know because they will have affected people. It actually means you won't, they won't leave the cinema with you. It's a big reason, it's one of the reasons I don't conclude everything, which, I don't even know what it means because it doesn't make any sense to me. Even after our death, we're not concluded. And I want those guys to hang around.  Someone just send me an email that they saw the film—I think three days ago—and they’re like “Solo and Red are still sitting in my apartment.” And if I told you what happened to him and his wife, and it all worked out, and Alex went to school and he passed his exam, they wouldn't sit in your apartment. Your apartment, the TV would be on and you'd be watching something else and I wouldn’t want that. Unless it’s Flowers of St. Francis. [LAUGHTER] Nothing else.

Audience 41:31
I'm just curious about the decision to split the word Goodbye Solo, good bye into two words?

Ramin Bahrani 41:36
It’s honestly only done graphically for the title in the film. The actual title of the film is one word, Goodbye, but it looked visually better. And then it just gave me a headache because sometimes they write it in two words in reviews. And I'm like, “I probably shouldn't have done that.”  But it looked better on the screen like that. But there's a reason why that movie is called Goodbye Solo. In fact, it was initially called the name of the real guy. And then he wasn't there so then Souleymane popped up and his real nickname was Solo. I'm like, “Okay, this isn't a bad title.” And then, when I looked at the film, as I was editing, and I'm like, “This title Solo is contrary to the movie. It doesn't make sense to the movie.”  And then I IMDb’d it and there's like thirty movies called Solo. And they're all, like, action films related to like Star Wars or something. Han Solo or I don't know. I like to walk when I think, and I remember it was like one in the morning, I was walking in my neighborhood and I thought about Goodbye Solo.  And I thought it was a good title because a lot of people are like, “Oh, well, what made you not have them say Goodbye Solo, the title of the film, like it wasn't even the title of the film?”  And it never occurred to me that they should say anything. It only occurred to me that they should not.  You know, like, they can't talk here, it would be awful. I like Goodbye Solo because it puts the movie in William’s perspective, and the movie’s not in his perspective. And I like it also because Solo is in a way saying goodbye to himself and becoming somebody different. And I like it because it says goodbye to solitude in the most solitary of moments.

Audience 43:15
I wanted to ask about your choice to have his wife pregnant and give birth to their child.  As he's seeing this man and his life, his wife and him are bringing in a new life. And Solo obviously has a very strong heart toward this man, but here's his wife having their son, and he's not there for her, and how those choices were made?

Ramin Bahrani 43:34
Yeah. I imagine he sees his wife and his baby and he still leaves to go help William. There were a lot of reasons. There were many reasons and you've already kind of hinted on some of them. One reason was: I thought it made things more difficult, which I liked, for things to be more difficult for him. And everything connected to his wife. You know—is today Friday, or Saturday?

Haden Guest 44:05
Saturday.

Ramin Bahrani 44:06
I don't want to upset you on Saturday night. But if I could make it a little personal to you, and give you the broader idea of his wife and Solo and everything, would be that if the person that you're closest to in this world, be it your partner or your sister, your best friend or your mom, one day told you they wanted to leave, and didn’t offer an explanation why. Probably like me and most of us, you would tell that person, “You're a selfish person. If you love me you would stay.” Which is what his wife does, right? “I love you and now you should do these things.” Or his drug dealing buddy says, you know, “You're my friend. Now you should do these things.” And the dispatch tells him turn right, turn left, go forward, go backward. Now, imagine if just hours before you were to take William to the mountain, you read in a notebook: that old man does care about me, and he cares about my future. And he cares about Alex's future, a future which he’s about to permanently put an end to. Then Solo’s act to take him there becomes even grander. And his selflessness, his act of love toward William of letting him go, even though it's so painful for him to do that, becomes grander. Going to the gentleman's question earlier, Realism, and just the taxi driver did it. Meaning that that guy with the microphone could have done it. So then maybe I could. And then my assumption is probably other people thinking that. Even though it's the opposite of, like, L’Amour Fou or Romeo and Juliet or Wuthering Heights, which I know we like to throw bottles and have crazy, you know, love affairs. But it could be something else too, which is something that St. Francis had. In fact, talking to his wife that he then is in the next scene that he goes to see the grandson, and realizes it would be selfish to talk to the grandson. He's thinking about what his wife just told him. It's not that William’s necessarily a mean guy. If William extends an olive branch to Solo and Alex from the first scene of the film, in William's mind this is not the right thing to do. In fact, it's the selfish thing to do, because it'll only make it harder for him and for them. And it's why he doesn't talk to the grandson.Talk to him and get him involved in his life and give them an emotional roller coaster and then go kill himself? He's not going to change his mind.

Audience 46:40
There is a part in the film where Solo is speaking one of his native languages, which I understand and I thought that was quite refreshing. Is there a reason why you did that? Because there was no translation for others to understand what he was saying.

Ramin Bahrani 46:55
Yeah, I didn't want to translate it because I just didn't know how critical it was for the audience. I actually think what he's saying is kind of important. He's talking to his family back home. Did anyone else assume he was talking to family? Who thought he was talking to family? And who thought he was just talking to a friend? Who thought he was talking to someone from his own culture and he was feeling good about it? Probably I'm hoping all of you, I mean. I thought it was enough, right? I didn't want to create a whole other story that would maybe distract from what the film was about. But I appreciate that you thought it was correct.  Did you think I should subtitle it? [Audience: NO] Oh, good. Good. In general, there's a rigorous thinking in all three of the films. I can't tell you how many times. Michael Simmonds shot all three of the films, by the way. We should applaud him because he's great. And he was nominated for two Spirit Awards, on both the first two films he was nominated for Best Cinematography, and all three of the movies are shot on high definition video. This movie was shot on high def. And I can't tell you how many times Michael and I talk about, “Will this take away energy?” Like, I don't mind your jacket, but I couldn't have it in my film because it’s too green. Like, this damn bottle—I hate it. This stupid thing, like, it would never be in the film. Your shirt is too red. Red is like the enemy of video and, you know, I don't know what's on your shirt, but it is a little distracting. Well, suddenly, if I film him, the scene is about that shirt, whatever that is on it. And that has to go. Because it sucks up energy like the Exit sign behind your head.  Suddenly, someone in the audience be like, “Why did you have the exit sign behind his head in that scene? Did you mean to say he was exiting the blah blah blah?” [LAUGHTER] And this ends up being what, you know, Brody's attack on A.O. Scott in the New Yorker, which he called these things “facile materialism”—these actually end up being the meaning of the film. Which is odd because then David Denby in the New Yorker ended up kind of supporting the film.  Anyhow, these are the lessons you learn from people like Chekhov. In the short stories, the details are what make it metaphysical and bigger, you know?

Audience 49:25
This is just going right back to this question of video.  I was curious if you have considered shooting on film, or if video was originally just a budgetary choice, and now you like it?

Ramin Bahrani 49:37
I think film—don't get mad, Haden—I think film/video is a dead subject. That doesn't make any difference to me. If you gave me ten times the budget, I would still shoot in a high def. If you gave me a little bit more money I would’ve shot with a better high def camera. I couldn't afford it. Michael wanted it, I don't even know what it is. I don't know much about the technical stuff. You know, they say the first generation of filmmakers watched life and made movies. And the second generation of filmmakers looked at the films of the first generation and life and made movies. The third generation looked at the films of the first and second generation and made movies. This generation looks at technical catalogs and makes movies.

Audience 50:22
I enjoyed the film very much.

Ramin Bahrani 50:25
I hope you will tell ten of your friends. [LAUGHTER]  Kendall. The 17th, right?

Haden Guest 50:31
Right.
[LAUGHTER]

Ramin Bahrani 50:32
You're laughing. If the movie doesn't succeed... Movies play the Kendall for one week. If you go that week, it plays another week. It doesn't star Will Smith. [LAUGHTER] You have to tell your friends because they may not know about it.

Audience 50:45
I want to look at the film through an immigrant’s perspective. I'm also a first generation Iranian immigrant, and I couldn't help but, you know, look at this man Solo. And here he is in a small town somewhere in the US, and he has these notions about life and family that are seemingly completely at odds with the society in which he finds himself. And he's trying to somehow reconcile things. And, you know, this man, William is for him a real glimpse into some of the issues that, you know, people in the West really deal with. Notions of loneliness and not being able to rely on others. How do you feel about this, I'm curious? And how do you see yourself in kind of Solo's shoes, looking in the world as a kind of outsider in a way?

Ramin Bahrani 51:38
Yeah, I mean, you kind of said it. I have wondered about it. I think I mentioned where the old man came from, right? Did I mention that? Oh. I used to drive, to get to my brother's house would pass by this parallel—no, opposite one another—I didn't study math at Harvard. Opposite one another, there were two assisted living homes to get to my brother's house, they were just looking at one another. And I would have to drive by them. And I started seeing old men hanging out outside of this assisted living home and not together. And in fact, I started to see one guy always at a certain time of day, for a couple of hours, it seemed he would be there with his walker just standing there. That's weird for a suburban town. You don't walk or hang around by the road. It's not like New York City where you can sit on a bench and look at the life go by. You're just looking at some cars going by. And I started honking and waving at him. And he started smiling and waving back. And I had no idea if he was seeing me or the car. But I knew he knew it, who it was, and I would get, you know, really happy for like a split second, and then I would become really profoundly sad about it. Like, at this stage in his life, he's been relegated to standing by the side of the road, and looking at my car and other cars going by. And I had also done some—I still do volunteer work in a hospital—but I had done volunteer work, at a certain point, at a nursing home and had spent time with the elderly patients there. And it is radically different from Iranian culture. I mean, my assumption is probably if your parents are here, they're going to either live with you or your brother or your sister when they need to if they're not already living with you now. And that was a big part of it.  And I would add also that in terms of immigrant or outsider, I think William is more of an outsider than Solo. He seems to know everybody in town. And William doesn’t seem to know anyone.  And so he almost, to me, feels like more of an outsider in his own hometown than anyone else. And also, I think, the Hispanic community isn't that far off either in terms of the family being together, and maybe a reason why he's with Quiera. I don’t know.

Haden Guest 53:52
Let's take one more question from the back there.

Ramin Bahrani 53:55
Can’t be a bad one, by the way.

Audience 53:57
My question is somewhat similar to the previous gentleman's. Since you come from an American background and an Iranian background, how did that help you make this film? Because, obviously, you have a very personal perspective on the United States.

Ramin Bahrani 54:12
Yeah, I feel fortunate because I have multiple perspectives. At this point I find myself also Pakistani and Latino and Senegalese, and my co-writer’s French and so on. I tried to take from all of them. Having, I mean, I grew up speaking Persian before I spoke English, and poetry, and my dad was non-stop talking about the history and literature of Iran.  And I lived there for three years after college—I'd never been there before. And one of the great things about living in Iran is: on a regular basis you're encountering a wide variety of people.  One of my favorite writers is Dostoevsky, and one of the great things Dostoevsky does is he puts into one room people that should never be in the same room. Those of you know Dostoevsky know what I’m talking about. Rich, poor, secular, religious, miserly, you know, generous, saintly, vicious, they’re all in a room together somehow always in his books. And I always thought that was great. And Iran was like that on a day-to-day basis. You know, I was constantly meeting a wide variety of people all the time. And I don't find that happens as much in America. You have to go find it. And I remember when I came back to make my first film, I went to find it. You know, and that always helped for me to see things in a different way. And I hope you enjoyed this film and saw it in a different way, and if you did tell ten of your friends.  Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]

Haden Guest 55:46
I just want to ask Ramin to introduce the short film we're about to see from 1998.

Ramin Bahrani 55:53
No one has seen it since 1998.  

Haden Guest 55:58
There we go. It's a twelve-minute short.

Ramin Bahrani 55:59
Is it twelve minutes or ten? I don't even remember. Twelve?

Haden Guest 56:01
It’s twelve.

Ramin Bahrani 56:03
No one has seen it really since ‘98, and I'm sorry it's a VHS projection of it. The MoMA is now—thank God—going to save the film and we're going to make a new print of it. So, for now, you'll have to forgive me that it's VHS, and forgive me for all my mistakes which were plentiful. The movie is about a six-year-old Iranian-American girl who wants to play backgammon with her grandfather who's just come from Iran, and he does not want to play with her. And it was made in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.  

Haden Guest 56:33
There you go. We come full circle.  

Ramin Bahrani 56:34
Yes.

Haden Guest 56:35
Well, we'll see you tomorrow night for Chop Shop and Man Push Cart.  

Ramin Bahrani 56:39
Thank you very much.

Haden Guest 56:40
Thank you, Ramin.

Ramin Bahrani 56:41
Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]

©Harvard Film Archive

Bahrani’s latest film tells the story of the friendship that reluctantly grows between an improbable pair—a Senegalese taxi driver living and working in North Carolina and an aging curmudgeon who hires the cabbie to leave him on a desolate mountain far out of town without telling him why. Filmed in Bahrani’s native Winston-Salem, Goodbye Solo reveals the director’s fascination with the increasingly multicultural patterns of American life by focusing on the group dynamic between the African driver, his Mexican girlfriend, her spirited bilingual daughter and the Southern retiree. Buoyed by the irrepressible performance of first time actor Souleymane Sy Savané, Goodbye Solo’s intense character study offers a cross between Kiarostamian observation and Cassavetian intensity, marrying two of Bahrani’s key influences. Leaving behind the urban grit of Bahrani’s two previous films, Goodbye Solo captures an autumnal lyricism that imbues the friendship of the protagonists with a poignant melancholy.

In this early short film, Bahrani already shows his ability to convey character subtly by integrating image and performance. A young Iranian American girl looks to backgammon as a way to get to know her grandfather, recently arrived from Iran. Bahrani uses this simple encounter to illustrate the intersections of family and nationality, the generation gap and cultural difference.