In the midst of this discussion, Soderbergh mentions that in the wake of the success of Sex, Lies, And Videotape, he had to “come to terms with what kind of filmmaker I was.” And then he lets this drop: “Letting go of the writing part of it was a big help.”
Fear, naturally, follows up on that nugget. The answer, more or less, was that sure, he can write, but he’s not a writer, and it’s too damn hard to do when you don’t have to: “[I]f you’re not Paul Thomas Anderson, don’t put yourself through hell for no reason.” It’s interesting enough that we’re just going to include his answer in full:
I wrote to get my foot in the door, but in having a frank conversation with myself, I realized, “You’re not really a writer.” You’ve written, but by the standards by which I judge writers, then, no. Lem Dobbs is a writer. I am not. It’s a trap that young filmmakers fall into. “I have to write and direct everything I do.” Well, that’s fine, only . . . if you’re not Paul Thomas Anderson, don’t put yourself through hell for no reason. There’s a reason he only makes movies every what, four years or so? To go to the well to write original screenplays — it’s fucking hard. And I realized my well wasn’t very deep. The best use of my skill set as a filmmaker was to work with writers instead of being a one-man band. That changed everything for the better.
The other thing was just realizing that I’m really a synthesist. Some guys are originals. Look at Spike Jonze — there’s nobody like him, you never know what’s coming next, it’s always inventive and smart and funny. He’s just unique. And it would be a waste of my time and other people’s money to think that I was Spike Jonze. I can’t do what he does. I can tell a story, however. I can work with actors on performances, and I can find a visual approach that supports those two things. It was freeing to figure this out, because that kind of approach allows for continual self-reinvention. You can slough off any skin you were wearing, from here to there.
So, yeah, that period from ’89/’90 to ’97, in which I made five movies in a row which people did not like and did not see — it was actually very necessary to me. They were steps for me to come to this place where I could have that run. Luckily, I never face-planted off a 30-foot board, you know? It was more like I got pushed into a pool and it didn’t look very good [laughs].
Fear and Soderbergh cover everything from the lionization of the ’60s to the amazing year in cinema that was 1999, and as said above, it’s well worth reading in full.
