Jasmine Valentine chats with Nitram director Justin Kurzel…
Even when we don’t admit it, the modern world has a morbid fascination for the true crime events that changed the world forever. But what happens when cold, hard facts become repackaged and dramatised? A film that always knows when to stop, Justin Kurzel’s Nitram is a heart-wrenching example of how we can deep dive further into fiction, creating something that holds a poignancy difficult to watch through more than once.
Why did you feel compelled to tell this story and why now?
It really came from my ongoing collaborator Shaun Grant, who I’ve done two films with (The True History of the Kelly Gang and Snowtown). COVID had just happened and he’d experienced a couple of shootings in Los Angeles. He just went home and started writing this film in a kind of fever, which was essentially about gun reform. And I think it sort of found a way he felt to tell the story of Port Arthur. We had talked about whether there was a way in which to tell that story and why would you tell that story back when we were making Snowtown, and we didn’t know what that was. And then out of the blue, he sent me the script. I read it and I could trust it straight away, and understand that there was something there that felt very powerful. I took a deep breath and thought “I have to make this”. I live in Tasmania. So you know, I’m very aware of the sensitivity of it down here. And in Australia. But it’s just one of those screenplays that I trusted while it was being written. I could understand how it would be filled.
It must still feel like a risk at the same time — I imagine because it’s such a well known event, everyone’s got their own preconceived feelings of what happened, especially if you were watching it all unfold at the time.
There’s not only just trying to get it right, and land it, and being sensitive and respectful. But on top of that, no matter how you do it and how successful you are in executing it, there are going to be those that believe that it shouldn’t be made. And definitely a point of view is that the film shouldn’t shouldn’t be made. We’re aware of that all the time. Australia discovered that we were making the film about three weeks into production, and there was a lot of noise and discussion. Quite heated debate really. We were very, very aware while we were shooting the film that we had many eyes on us and that we had to be really careful.
How integral was casting to making sure that you had everything exactly how you wanted it? Did you have anyone in mind for set roles or was it a more organic process?
Shaun and I both thought about Caleb, but it was really just the physicality of him more than anything else in films that we’d seen. But I don’t think we ever really seriously thought about casting an American as an Australian. Especially this particular Australian. After a while we just couldn’t get Caleb out of our heads — we actually ended up meeting in Los Angeles and we just knew. He came and sat down with us and he ordered these boiled eggs, sort of sitting there in this very eccentric way talking to us about the script. Really powerfully talking about the script and just about the character constantly. We knew when we left the restaurant that it was him, and it was really just about whether he could get the accent. He then came to Australia and did two weeks of quarantine. We’re in a bubble so we were closed off to the outside world, and he just threw himself in it. I mean, he’s one of the most immersive actors. He doesn’t have an off button. He’s continually thinking about things and talking in the Australian accent the whole time, even when we’re offset. So it was pretty extraordinary to work with someone that was that giving of themselves in a role. I mean, it doesn’t really happen.
How do you go about filling in the gaps in public knowledge? All of these things that we see that happen behind closed doors that everyone’s probably got their own preconception of or excuses for.
I think you research as much as possible, and try to get really as close to life as you can. But then at the same time, there comes a point where you have to tell a story and you have to tell a point of view. And you have to tell it speaking to the type of film that you’re making, so there are certain aspects of it that you might lean on more. There are certain characters that might be there and in real life are not involved. So a lot of it is about editing down to its essence. I think it’s weird — there’s the truth of what happened, and then there’s the truth of the story that you’re telling, the kernel of what it’s all about. And I think that that’s something Shawn and I have always been reaching for, more than “we’ve got to get this 100% right”. Yeah, it’s researched, but there is a point where you’ve got to stop and actually work out what the film is trying to say.
Do you think the ability that the film has to examine things so directly openly isn’t just a testament to the work you do, but also says something about Australian cinema? I think that if this was an American or British look at an event happening there made by their creatives, the tone might feel a bit more convoluted.
I think Australian filmmakers reflect an ordinariness in a suburban sort of Australia and a tribal-ness at times that is very particular. At the same time, some of my biggest influences are like Shane Meadows. There’s a quality of his filmmaking that has always spoken to something in our style, like that social realism that comes from the UK. It’s really particular and really strong. But the one thing that I think Australian filmmakers seem to have a preoccupation with is landscape — what is the space around those kinds of characters. If we did this film in England, there would probably be a lot more interiors and it would probably feel a little bit more claustrophobic. I think what’s interesting about Nitram is it happens in a pretty wide suburban street, and seems like quite a nice family setting because there are open roads. The story is existing in the open air of Australia, and I think that is very particular.
Would you say we as a public, or cinema itself, is almost afraid to take these things on and look them directly in the face — like male violence as an example? Do we tend to shy away from that and bury our heads in the sand?
I think there’s a real caution at the moment with how male violence is presented on screen, which I think is a good thing. I think that the way violence is represented on screen and who is the victim of that violence, filmmakers are questioning that much more. Things feel like they have changed and and I think there are more questions and responsibilities. It doesn’t mean that those films shouldn’t be made. It just means that there’s much more of a microscope over them. I definitely felt that with Nitram. A lot of my films have been about male violence and have visited the toxic-ness of those kinds of characters. So it definitely felt the the eyes on it differently than what I had in previous films.
As you just said, a lot of your work covers male violence in different ways. Have you ever found it difficult for your work not to fall into the ‘young man with mental health issues’ label that the media are always ready to label these life events as?
I never wanted to give this character one particular illness. He obviously was suffering from many things. But I also think there are many other things in play that the film was wanting to discuss and look into, so I was very careful with what we didn’t say. To me, this is about family, and what it is to be a mother, a father, and a son. It’s about looking after each other. When do we turn a blind eye, when do we invest in those that are in need? Are we able to see things before they happen? In 1996 in Australia, there wasn’t much hope going around for that mother. When we started filming, so many of the discussions were with Judy (Davis) and the mother about the mother’s responsibility and the burden of this son. What could she have done in those times? So it was really in the end the importance of a family unit. And it’s when that family unit starts to dismantle through the father’s death, or Helen no longer being in his life. There’s a void there that becomes impossible to feel. I think as soon as you start to pigeonhole into one thing, it becomes dangerous.
The parting statement of the necessity for gun reform, and how quickly action was taken, is a gut punch to leave viewers with. How important was it to include, and did you hope it would add to the cultural conversation?
Something came from this tragedy. In six days, those reforms were put in place, like a quick bipartisan thing that changed the gun culture in Australia forever. We experienced one of the worst days in Australia and then a week later it was one of the most extraordinary days when those reforms were through. It’s telling what’s happened. It’s telling how much that event rocked this country, how it changed gun culture forever here. And it was hugely, hugely important. So we felt as though that was sort of information that was really important to share.
Many thanks to Justin Kurzel for taking the time for this interview.
Nitram will be released exclusively in cinemas on July 1st.
Jasmine Valentine – Follow me on Twitter.
