Nick Broomfield
Nick Broomfield's documentaries are characterized by fearlessness, social satire, dark humor, boundless chutzpah, and unforgettably creepy characters living in the margins of society. But mostly, they're distinguished by Broomfield's deadpan voice, faux-naïve persona, and ubiquitous microphone. The British director has been making documentaries for 30 years, but he's best known in the U.S. for a series of films exploring often-tawdry subject matter in ways that push the filmmaking process to the forefront. Typical of Broomfield's approach, 1992's Aileen Wuornos: The Selling Of A Serial Killer takes a bleakly funny look at the parasitic characters attached to the case of recently executed convict Aileen Wuornos, a luckless prostitute widely considered America's first female serial killer (and the subject of the feature film Monster, which stars Charlize Theron as Wuornos). Broomfield's sequel to Selling Of A Serial Killer, Aileen: Life And Death Of A Serial Killer, was released late in 2003, and between those two films, Broomfield explored subjects including former British prime minister Margaret Thatcher (Tracking Down Maggie), bondage and domination (Fetishes), notorious madam-to-the-stars Heidi Fleiss (Heidi Fleiss: Hollywood Madam), the relationship between Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love (Kurt & Courtney), and the unsolved murders of Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. (2002's Biggie & Tupac). Broomfield's filmography also includes a poorly received narrative fiction film (1989's Dark Obsession, a.k.a. Diamond Skulls) and the film adaptation of a Spalding Gray one-man show (Monster In A Box). In connection with the release of Aileen: Life And Death Of A Serial Killer, The Onion A.V. Club spoke with Broomfield about Wuornos, his past subjects, and his unique filmmaking style.
The Onion: You're a presence in your own films more than just about any documentarian this side of Michael Moore. Does that make your films easier to sell, since people know you and your voice and style?
Nick Broomfield: Funnily enough, I wasn't really interested in working in this style at all, until I had a very bad experience making a film with Lily Tomlin in the '80s, about her making her show The Search For Signs Of Intelligent Life In The Universe. It was a very straightforward documentary about her preparing for the show and doing rehearsals, honing down the characters and stuff. A lot of the really interesting stuff that happened, which was in a way more revealing about Lily Tomlin and the experience of making the film, wasn't in the film because we were making it in a very traditional, cinéma vérité sort of way. I always felt quite disappointed with the film. I felt that certain films lend themselves to cinéma vérité or interview form, and other subjects don't. If I hadn't been a witness and it hadn't had so much to do with the old film, it would have been possible to make this Aileen Wuornos film without appearing in it. If you look at a film like Biggie & Tupac or Kurt & Courtney, there really wouldn't have been a film if it wasn't about the making of the film as well, and the way that certain subjects define themselves by the obstacles they put in your way. With Kurt & Courtney, I wouldn't have had anything at all, as there was no cooperation and it was completely off limits. Really, it just depends on the stories you're telling, rather than some overwhelming need to be in the film. I also always loved the work of Ross McElwee, who did Sherman's March. He's somebody who has moved back the perimeters. I suppose it's also like some of those Tom Wolfe stories where he goes off to do an interview, and the process of doing the interview is more revealing than the interview he actually does. The circumstances behind the event are sometimes more revealing than the event itself. For me, that's what documentaries are so brilliant at. That's what, for me, differentiates them from the sort of set-up, stagnant way of making a feature film.
O: How did the second Aileen Wuornos film come about?
NB: I really hadn't intended to do it. I was filming Biggie & Tupac when I was subpoenaed to go [testify in Wuornos' appeal], and while we were in transit from Los Angeles to New York, we had the equipment with us. I think it was really when Aileen Wuornos changed her testimony and said she wanted to die, and maybe hearing some of those childhood witnesses saying stuff I was sort of distantly aware of [regarding Wuornos' sexual abuse and prostitution from a young age]. I hadn't really realized the full extent of the horrors of her childhood. I saw that there was a follow-up film to be made, because it just seemed so extraordinary, and because I had so many unanswered questions, I suppose.
O: What were those questions?
NB: One was that I had always believed that there was something quite honest about Aileen. Out of all the people attached to the case, whether it be the police or her lawyer or her [adoptive] born-again Christian mother, Aileen had always struck me as being somebody who basically always said something true. It always came from a position of speaking the truth. So I was surprised when she completely changed her testimony and said suddenly that she'd been killing everyone in cold blood. Because I was a witness, and because I had gone there hoping to get Aileen off death row, it mattered on a personal level to me what was real and what wasn't. It mattered on a personal level whether I was a witness helping someone who was acting in self-defense, or whether I was representing someone who had really killed in cold blood. Then I just had feelings following on from that, and from Aileen's total obsession with corrupt cops–that cops had somehow enabled her to become a serial killer, and so on–which was just the extent of her insanity. I had the strong feeling that someone who was psychotic, who really couldn't distinguish life-threatening behavior from somebody having a minor disagreement with her, was about to be executed. Following on from that, with Jeb Bush being the governor, the whole philosophy of both him and George W. Bush was a very vengeful view of justice, of what the justice system is about, and a real disregard, I feel, for due process and people's equality before the law. They obviously had a complete disregard for the principle that there's equality before the law.
O: What was it like interviewing Suge Knight in prison for Biggie & Tupac?
NB: I think the anticipation of it was worse than the reality of it. With a lot of filming, you're very anxious, because you never know if you're going to get to the guy. Particularly since he hadn't agreed to the interview, and we were just there on the off chance of finding him. A lot of the skittishness was, "Are we ever going to get this guy?" When I actually met him, I think he was actually more frightened of us than we were of him, which was a surprise. I think that was the reality. This is a guy who normally has bodyguards around him all the time, who's normally totally in control of his environment, and he's suddenly got a film crew in his cell. So he was more shocked than we were at that point. Sometimes I think things are just meant to happen in film, and that was kind of a miracle that did happen.