I have an issue with critics overusing the term “minimalism,” including in reference to your film and the filmmakers you just mentioned, because it does often minimize what can be achieved through precise detail.
Oftentimes, films that are sparsely plotted are called minimal or are put under the banner of minimalism, but I think, in many cases, what happens emotionally or interpersonally between people can feel very minimal and sparse, but is actually quite dense and rich. I think something can be minimal, structurally or visually, in an outward way, but emotionally maximalist, complex, and meaningful.
The film closes with Connie Converse’s “Talkin’ Like You (Two Tall Mountains),” such a beautiful and haunting song even for those unfamiliar with the mystery surrounding her life, music, and disappearance. What does that song signify to you?
Taylor Rowley, our wonderful music supervisor, had that song on a list of ideas for the end. I’d read an article about her, knew the broad strokes of the story, and loved that album. Listening to Taylor’s playlist, the first lyrics of the song (“In between/two tall mountains”) were perfect, and it all clicked into place. There’s much symmetry, with this film and this artist, with this idea that life can become too much, and sometimes you just need to eject yourself from it. Obviously, there’s so much unknown about Connie Converse and what happened, but there’s also an incredible sadness in needing to disappear. You can infer so much, and I won’t do that. I’ll let the mystery remain.
But when I discovered that Sam needed to leave, in the story, I realized that she’d tried words. She’d tried talking to her dad. It doesn’t work. She doesn’t get what she needs. And there’s a symmetry with this story that the guys tell around the campfire, about a camping trip they went on in their youth, with a woman they’re making fun of, who just left. I wrote that bit of dialogue, probably in the first draft, and then didn’t even realize that it connects with Sam’s arc until later. Sometimes, themes just emerge; as people, we have our interests, and our themes that we’re drawn to, and you’re magnetically drawn to these ideas without knowing how they’re going to pop up.
“Good One” opens in New York August 9 at Metrograph and Film at Lincoln Center before expanding throughout August; it opens at Chicago’s Gene Siskel Film Center on August 23.