When you look at Montreal-based writer/director Maude Michaud, you don't necessarily see a horror filmmaker. An ebullient young woman with a shock of red hair and a musical French-Canadian accent, Michaud seems more like a quirky art student than the creator of dark, often transgressive cinema. I recently sat down for an extended chat with the garrulous Ms. Michaud during which we covered a range of topics such as escaping reality through film, whether she's really a horror filmmaker and, of course, her "special squirrel genes."
Okay, Maude, let's deal with this up front. You are an extremely upbeat, cheerful person, but I think it's fair to say your flicks veer toward the dark side of the soul. How'd a nice girl like you get so twisted? I'm glad you are, but...
That is a question I have often asked myself over the course of my life. For as long as I can remember, I was always drawn to dark and macabre things. As a kid, I was obsessed with Halloween and would gleefully start decorating my parents' house months in advance. I would also look for any kind of macabre entertainment I could get my hands on, including books and TV series like Goosebumps, Point Horror, Are you Afraid of the Dark?, as well as Tim Burton movies, Stephen King novels and The Addams Family. I remember reading a short story about this girl who had a ribbon tied around her neck. At the end of the story, someone untied the ribbon and her head rolled on the floor. When I read that story, I remember thinking this was the coolest thing I had ever read in my life and I began wearing satin ribbon choker-necklaces to grade school.
Aww, that's both cute and disturbing!
To this day, I still have no idea why exactly those were the kind of things I loved. Of course, these peculiar interests made me a bit of an outcast at school, which only ended up reinforcing my identification with these fictional characters. A few years later, I became a bit of an adrenaline junkie – I was addicted to the rush I would get just before a play and I would just love going to the amusement park and riding all the roller coasters – and discovered I could get a similar rush by watching horror movies, so that was a natural progression.
I know it sounds cliché, but I really feel horror has a cathartic power. It helps me to get rid of my negative emotions. It seems that ever since I started focusing mostly on dark stories, I've become a happier person; work has been very therapeutic. The darker the story, the better I feel!
You wrote a passionate op-ed piece a while back about being an ardent cinephile. What are your earliest recollections of film?
My grandmother, who is a huge cinephile, used to babysit me when I was a kid and we'd spend countless hours watching movies together during the afternoon. She's the one who introduced me to the work of Hitchcock; when she realized I was mature enough to handle this kind of film, she let me watch whatever I wanted and even defended me when my mom found my choice of entertainment questionable.
She also bought me books about classic Hollywood stars; she would tell me all about movies that had an impact on her and about how she used to go watch a film every week. She would talk to me about Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. She would show me pictures of Elizabeth Taylor, her idol, and tell me about how Vincent Price terrified her when she saw House of Wax. She is the person who shaped my love of cinema when I was still very young, so I just kept researching and discovering new titles as I grew older. In a way, films have always been part of my life. In fact, I can't remember a time when my life was devoid of cinema.
You also developed an early love for theater. At that young age, did you see the ties between theater and film? Did you "get" that it was all storytelling?
Because I was so young – I was 8 when I first got into theater – I could see the ties between theater and film, but I don't think I was fully "getting" that it was all storytelling. I remember that theater for me was all about becoming someone else and creating these characters and situations I would want to play out, but wouldn't necessarily want to live for real in my daily life. Even at that young age, I was drawn to really dark characters. I was also writing a lot. In fact, around that time, when you asked me what I wanted to do with my life, I would say that I wanted to be an author.
Films, on the other hand, were a way for me to escape reality and to get lost in this other world that was presented to me. I would imagine myself living in the world of the film, what my character would be like and how it would interact with the other characters. I think this is part of the reason why theater was so appealing; I could finally act out the kind of characters I would imagine while watching films. From that point on, it was only a matter of time before I realized that all these things I loved were connected and that I could create my own alternate realities [through film] and flesh out the characters populating that world.
How did your parents feel about their little girl wanting to become a filmmaker?
I think they took it well! When I was 14, I remember telling them I wanted to have a serious talk about my future, so I sat down with them and said, "Mom, dad, I decided I want to be a filmmaker. And I'm really serious about it, so don't take it lightly thinking I'll be changing my mind."
How'd that go?
They were surprised at first and quizzed me about my expectations, about the job itself and about how I would go about becoming a filmmaker. Lucky for me, I had already done some research and read countless interviews with directors I admire, so I could answer their questions easily while also proposing different ways to go about achieving this goal. Then, they talked about what my backup plan would be and how I needed to make sure I could easily fall back on this plan. After all this, my mom told me, "Well, if that's really what you want to do, we'll be there for you and try to do everything we can to help you."
Wow, that's really amazing. Most parents are not that supportive.
It turned out they really meant it as they constantly put up with all my crazy requests including, but not limited to, transforming their house into an abandoned place, barricading all the windows for several days, letting dozen of people into their home for several movie shoots, taking care of the catering, driving cast and crew members back home late into the night, and letting me shoot a fairly graphic and bloody sex scene in their bedroom. So yeah, I'm extremely grateful and fortunate my parents are so supportive and involved in what I do!
You made a good number of shorts before you had any formal schooling. You've now advanced to the point where you've made a documentary that served as a thesis. How do you think your academic experience has affected, informed or changed the way you approach your work?
Oh yes, my academic experience has definitely had an impact on my work and the way I approach films in general. When I began, I knew nothing about cinema other than the fact that I loved films, so I would mostly focus on the story I wanted to tell. Then, I learned all about film language and aesthetics, so for a short while, I would mostly emulated cool things I'd seen in movies and try to match them to my stories. It took me a while before I really "got it" and fully understood the amount of research that goes into a film.
I was sure my filmmaking learning curve was done. Then, during my university film class, I had to pitch a project. I'm talking a full-on, detailed pitch, including a research component, much like a grant proposal – I remember really loving the process. Of course, it was really different from the "gut feeling" type of filmmaking I was used to, but the end product was so much more rewarding. I remember watching the resulting short and thinking, "Okay, wow, that is my first 'real' film." From that point on, it just became a natural part of creation for me. I have a thirst for knowledge, so I'm constantly researching different art styles and learning new things which often end up in my work.
A lot of people believe academia bleeds the creativity from artists, but there is so much invaluable knowledge available for those that seek it.
My academic studies helped provide me with the tools to tackle more mature projects and subject matters. So, in a nutshell, yes, who I am as a filmmaker has immensely evolved throughout my academic career and I'm glad I've acquired the ability to introspectively think about my projects and to shape my work in a way that people can decode the message I'm trying to say.
You came up in Canada, but you've now experienced filmmaking culture in other countries. Do you think getting started in Canada provided you an advantage as opposed to, say, America or France?
That is really hard to say because I never really tried to get a film made in the U.S. or in France. In Canada, we have a lot of art grants and most of the Canadian film industry is financed by the government, so we do have infrastructures to help people make movies. Even though I've never received any grants from the government or from one of the many art organizations, I think it was helpful to know this was something that was available, that it was a possibility. However, the flip side of this is that, when it comes to independent filmmaking, private investment is the exception and not the norm. It's extremely hard to find people who want to invest in a project because everybody knows there are governmental organizations just for that. But, unfortunately, these agencies do not favor genre cinema.
As you've become a professional filmmaker, you've surely become entangled in the business aspects of the craft. How has that been? Exasperating or educational, or does it depend on the latest meeting you've had?
I'd say it depends on the latest meeting I've had and on which mindset I'm in. But I'd say most of the time, it's educational and inspirational. Something that few people know about me is that I'm almost as left-brained as I am right-brained; I was already really good at math, science and problem solving, which is probably why I'm as involved as I am in the production of my films.
That's true. To a large degree, you are a one-woman show.
I tend to like the business aspect of the craft because it puts me in a different mindset and allows me to switch gear and stimulate that other part of myself, which can lead to a whole other kind of creativity. Plus, it's good to be aware of the business side of things as it can have a really big influence on the creative work. I also love networking and I'm a social butterfly, so the business aspect of filmmaking allows me to meet new stimulating people, and it always makes me eager to start working on my next project. Business fuels creativity just as creativity fuels business, so it's all a question of balance, really.
You are French-Canadian, but do you feel like you must make movies for an American audience? Does a certain marketplace enter in to the conception or sensibility of your work?
Yes and no. I like to think that the best films tell stories that have a universal appeal; that we, as human beings, can understand and relate to them regardless of what culture we're from or where we're geographically situated. This is what I strive to achieve with my work. I don't like ghettoizing my stories by putting all the emphasis on one particular city or focusing on one specific market, unless it serves the story.
That being said, I am aware that my films have more of an American audience and I do have North American sensibilities, so I'm sure it does end up influencing what my films are about and how I tackle the topics I choose. At the end of the day, I like to think audiences are smarter than we think and that marketplaces are more fluid than we think. Let's not forget, film is art and art is supposed to be timeless and universal.
Nicely said. You have an extraordinary track record for an independent filmmaker, Maude. Between 2005 and 2011, you made eight short films – and that's not counting Bloody Breasts, your five-part documentary webseries, or Toutes Les Jeunes Filles Sont En Fleur, the film you co-produced. What's your secret?
I often joke that I have special squirrel genes that allow me to operate on a faster frame-rate than most people! [Laughs]
That explains a lot actually!
No, seriously, I'm a really passionate individual, who also happens to be really organized, driven, optimistic and extremely focused. When I begin a project I love, it becomes the all-consuming thing in my life; I think about it day and night, even sometimes dreaming about it. I make it my obsession and do everything I can to get it done. Becoming a filmmaker has always been my life goal, so when I start working on a film, it becomes the number one priority in my life. I'm not saying this is a healthy way to live, but it certainly helps me be productive. And happy. Because as long as I'm creating and working on film projects, I'm happy – and, as far as I'm concerned, happiness is the most important thing in life.
As a director, you've been lumped into the horror genre. But when I watch your flicks, I don't really see a horror filmmaker. I see a filmmaker exploring the human psyche, which can sometimes be horrific. Where do you think you belong?
That's an interesting observation. I've often pondered the question of whether or not what I do is 100% horror. I do think that the horror genre is greatly misunderstood right now; most people think that horror only equals what I like to call "shock and gore entertainment," that is, torture-porn, gory slasher movies or paranormal/ghost stories filled with cheap scares. If we look back on films from the '70s and prior – films like The Sentinel, Don't Look Back and even Repulsion or Rosemary's Baby – most of them don't fit what we commonly view as "horror," yet any film scholar will argue that they undeniably belong in the genre. I think "horror" really needs to be redefined in a way that is more encompassing of the wide range of subgenres.
For the same reason, as far as my work is concerned, I do see it as horror in the same way that I still consider the writings of Edgar Allan Poe as horror, but I also understand how most gorehounds might not see me as such. So, more and more, I like to think of myself as a genre filmmaker because I feel it is a bit more representative of what I do and it doesn't trap me within a single genre.
It seems to me that the horror label has been hung on you for convenience; it's easy for audience and industry alike. But is it convenient for you, or does it create expectations you feel you have to meet?
It does create some expectation – which I always take as a challenge and try to meet – but it is also convenient. Because my films mix genres and can sometimes be really hard to describe, it does help to have a clear label that anyone can understand, even if what they think it means is this narrow-minded definition I just complained about. I tried to tell people, "I'm a genre filmmaker," but most of them respond with a blank stare. Then, they ask me what "genre" is and the only explanation or examples I can provide involve a series of films or filmmakers they've never heard of. So, I stick with the convenience of the horror label. If the person happens to know or enjoy horror, a really interesting conversation ensues. If not, then I can usually count to three before being told "oh, but you're such a sweet and nice girl..."
Then, to put you in an even smaller box – you're welcome – you've not only been categorized as a horror filmmaker; you've also been labeled a "female horror filmmaker," a wholly different clique with its own inherent socio-political implications. Of course, because you are absolutely female, this one makes even more sense than "horror filmmaker," but how do you feel about this label?
I like this label because I'm proud that the movement is so strong and that I have so many "blood sisters," as I like to call them, out there producing and directing phenomenal films. I've always seen horror as a political genre; I mean, which other genre allows you to explore taboo topics or subject matter in a way that is engaging to audiences without feeling like you're hammering home the message? Also, the genre's reliance on suspension of disbelief really grants us filmmakers a lot of freedom in the way we can approach virtually any subject matter and still have people interested in seeing it.
When you add gender to the mix, people tend to expect your work to be political as opposed to yet another generic addition to the aforementioned generalized vision of the horror genre, which is great when this is what you're doing. However, I also believe that in an ideal world, we wouldn't need such labels, that anyone's artistic voice would be taken seriously, regardless of gender. I hope that in the future, we'll no longer need this gender distinction, but at the end of the day, I'm just a filmmaker who wants to tell stories that people will enjoy and relate to, and the fact I'm a woman shouldn't have any role to play in whether they watch my films or not.
Speaking of being female, you've recently become involved with something called the Mistresses of Horror Alliance. What's that all about?
The Mistresses of Horror Alliance is a new service from the Viscera Organization, which aims to facilitate production, educate women horror filmmakers and promote their work. We're still figuring out a few details – we'll be officially launching the website in the fall – but, in a nutshell, it's an association that will offer networking opportunities, workshops and other perks to its members in addition to a yearly production grant for a short film project. I'm really excited to be on board as director of operations and I cannot wait to see how it will evolve!
As a filmmaker, you are a very effective storyteller, but you also have an especially strong visual sense. Where do you get your inspiration, not just for your narratives but for the imagery you employ?
I'm a visual person and I think of myself as an aesthetic fetishist, meaning that once I discover a visual style or motif I like, I will keep searching for various examples and incarnations of it. I also tend to be drawn to certain artists or films solely based on how they look visually. For this reason, I spend a lot of time recreating some of the visuals I prefer and put a lot of thought and effort in creating the look of my films.
How do you decide on the look you want?
My inspirations tend to vary tremendously depending on the story I'm tackling. I'm drawn to the work of filmmakers who use strong visuals – like Bava, Lynch, Shainberg, Cronenberg – which taught me the importance of knowing what you want. In general, I love textures, contrasts and strong colors, so that often ends up influencing the art direction. I also love retro glamour and gothic fashion, which serve as inspirations for the costumes. In terms of lighting, I'm a huge fan of chiaroscuro art and, as a result, I can't stand flat lighting. I have so many visual references and inspirations, I could keep naming them for hours. When I prepare a film, I usually end up with dozens of inspiring pictures – they can be artworks, pages from a fashion magazine, screen shots, etc. – that I can show my crew to help them better understand the way I want the film to look.
Talk about your influences for a minute, and not just filmmakers. Do you draw inspiration from other things, like music or literature?
Again, I could talk for hours about everything that inspires me! Because we just talked about visual style, I'll start with photography. It's probably because of my background as a filmmaker, but I'm a complete control freak when it comes to composition. I like to think of every shot as a single photograph, so it has to be interesting to look at. As much as I think of cinema in photographic terms, I also think of photography in cinematic terms, so I'm inspired by photographers who create images that could look like a scene from a film. Cindy Sherman and Alex Prager are good examples.
I also draw a lot of inspiration from music, but that mostly comes into play during the writing phase. Sometimes the inspiration for an entire scene comes to me while listening to a song; the song triggers images which allow me to imagine how the scene will play out.
As for literature, sometimes I will be inspired by something I read, but I mostly draw inspiration from nonfiction. I still read a lot of academic and theoretical texts, especially in the realm of media and cultural studies. I also have a strong interest in psychology, especially Freud, Jung, and theories of personality and deviant sexuality. It's mind-boggling how it all works; it's as if my brain is a big blender in which all these elements end up and are mixed together. Then, out comes an idea. [Laughs]
Knowing your work, that actually makes perfect sense. Okay, moving on. It is said that each film is a lesson learned. Assuming that is true, what is the most important thing you've learned on any of your movies?
There is indeed a lesson learned for every film I made, so it's hard to pick just one. I'll go with two, if you let me. First, coming from a negative experience, I've learned that, no matter how talented or resourceful someone is, if a person is not passionate about a project or you have to fight to convince the person to get involved, just don't bother. Chances are your end result will suffer and you'll have a miserable time on set.
Now for the positive one: If you have fun on set, it will transpire in the end product and people will get that positive vibe that the film was fun to make. That is why I try to surround myself with people who are as passionate about the project as I am. Also, along the same line, the simplest ideas are often the best ones.
As a devoted cineaste, I know you adore real film, but as a contemporary director, digital must be a major part of your tool kit. Where do you fall in the digital vs. film debate?
I completely adore film! I just recently started collecting 16mm films and, when given a choice between watching something digital or on 35mm, I'll always pick film. I have been fortunate enough to shoot three shorts on 16mm and one on 8mm, and I hope I'll have the chance to shoot at least another project on film one day.
That being said, on the production side of things, digital technology really does make shooting easier and cheaper. But there are major downsides to it as well. I could rant for hours on the subject, but I'll refrain myself.
What about 3D – yes or no?
No! I could start ranting about that too. I hate 3D with a passion and not because it gives me massive migraines. To me, one of the greatest things about cinema is the ability to create a visually rich image that allows you to influence how audience members react to a scene. A shallow depth of field can build tension in a horror movie, a carefully designed rack focus can be used to create a "surprise" effect, etc. – 3D completely destroys all that.
I don't need a film to be in 3D for me to feel immersed in a story, and I believe that if so many recent films need to be in 3D for people to feel immersed, it probably says something about the quality of storytelling.
Thank you! I couldn't have said it better myself. All right, let's wrap up, Maude. I know you begin shooting Dys-, your first feature, later this year. What can you say about it? Do you feel prepared?
I cannot wait to begin shooting! I'm fortunate to have a strong, supportive production team and ridiculously talented actors on board. Really, I just cannot wait to be on set and to see the script come to life. Every morning I wake up and realize I'm one day closer to the beginning of production, which excites me more than words can describe!
As to what Dys- is, it's going to be a psychological drama/horror/thriller about a couple on the verge of breaking up [who are] forced into isolation in their apartment due to a viral outbreak. As the situation worsens outside, so does their frail mental state as they slowly descend into madness. It's gonna be intense and nasty!
That description should definitely be in the press kit! So, it's safe to say you're pretty jazzed?
Dys- is my biggest and most exciting project so far, so every day is a new adventure, especially now in pre-production. The more I work on it, the more I feel prepared. I often use following example to describe to people how it feels: It's like mountain-climbing. As long as you keep looking up at the top of the mountain, everything is fine and every step you take is a step closer to your goal. You just have to make sure you don't look back, because that is when it gets really scary.
Great interview, Theron.
I especially loved what she said about 3D. I'm so glad filmmakers are now being vocal about what a scam it is.