The Impossible

Becomes Reality
An Interview with Carlos Reygadas
by Robert Koehler

ne of the unexpected results of the CGI revolution in cinema Contrary to what some of his critics say about him, Reygadas is per-

O digital effects, and one of the least noticed, is how the tools havefectly at ease discussing the meanings and ideas behind his films. That
allowed filmmakers with personal, independent voices to create he has been depicted as otherwise is only one of a number offalse obfiis-
images and sequences that they may have previously envisioned but cations, which have been thrown in his way by critics and others either
couldn't have managed to actually make. Near the end of Still Life bamboozled, repelled, or confused by his work, and the new film's
(2006), Jia Zhangke crafts a stunning shot in which a ship incongruous- refusal to lay out a clear, driving narrative line perhaps only com-
ly lifts off from the Yangtze River valley floor, scrambling the viewer's pounds the syndrome. But no one bothering to pay attention to his
sense ofpresent and future, to say nothing of the impossible. Throughout untamed and ribald contribution to the 2011 omnibus film Revolu-
Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010), Apichatpong ción, titled Este es mi Reino—in which a backyard party turns into a
Weerasethakul creates a gaggle of startling, haunting, and amusingly Walpurgisnacht to end a/i Walpurgisnachts—could have doubted that
fantastic images, from the now-iconic red-eyed monkey men who revisit he was moving on to wilder and woolier stuft from the Dreyeresque
their living relatives from the dead, to a princess's lovemaking with a placidity and spirituality o/Silent Light. Filmed in the house he built
fish, to an apartment with doppelgängers. Word has it that Lisandro after completing Silent Light, PTL (the second consecutive feature with
Alonso may have some (possibly digital) images made for his upcoming, the word "light" in the title) traces the downhill course of architect Juan
still-untitled film starring Viggo Mortensen set in the Argentine desert in (Adolfo Jiménez Castro), raising two lively children (Reygadas's own
the 1860s. kids Rut and Eleazar) with
In Post Tenebras Lux, his disconsolate wife
(translated from Latin as In his return to feature filmmaking with Post Natalia (Nathalia Aceve-
"After Darkness Light"), Car- Tenebras Lux, the director of Battle in Heaven do). Juan's and Natalia's
los Reygadas has expanded sexual problems have seem-
his range of stylistic and the-
and Silent Light adwances his aesthetic, ingly compounded his self-
matic concerns but, along mingling dreams, fantasy, and reality. confessed addiction to porn,
with this, he has deployed as well as inspired half-
digital tools for scenes that explode the veneer of conventional realism crazed "therapeutic" ventures such as one the couple takes to France for
and startled audiences who viewed the film in its premiere in Cannes group sex in steam baths named for philosophers such as Hegel. Worse,
last year, when Reygadas survived a volley of sharply negative reviews Juan abuses his dogs and habitually talks to his working-class neighbors
to win the Best Director prize. Early in the film, in a seemingly real and workers either dismissively or imperiously. In an elaborately staged
country home, a blazing red-hoofed demon strides in and surveys the party sequence with his extended family, Juan is very much the out-
abode. Near the end, a man despairing over the violence and havoc he's sider, prompted to insult his family by quoting a citation from War and
caused self-decapitates himself—literally ripping his own head off Peace with smart-alecky aplomb.
Throughout Reygadas's filmography, starting with the shorts he made As Reygadas observes in the interview, Juan is a product of an upper-
in Belgium after turning his back on a promising career as an attorney class. Westernized Mexican system, a man bound up in alienation, cut
specializing in international law, a detectable tension between a harshly oft from his own feelings. He's unable to do precisely what one of his
composed realism and a cosmic transcendentalism is constantly at play. children does during the astonishing opening minutes: dreaming of gal-
The apparent resurrection of the dead wife in Silent Light (2007) livanting in the fields with dogs, cows, and horses, utterly free and
occurs at the end of a tale firmly grounded in the everyday world of a amazed, with eyes wide open at the beasts below and the approaching
Mennonite farming community in Mexico. The Post Tenebras Lux storms clouds above. It happens to be the children who witness the red
demon may be fantastical, but he's carrying the actual toolbox that demon—a moment Reygadas handles without any of the tendentious
Reygadas's father has carried for years. sentimentalism that such a scene would be staged by Spielberg—implic-
The new cinema tools of the twenty-first century developed by and itly conspiring an alliance early on between the kids and the viewer.
for corporate-sponsored factory filmmakers, have allowed film artists to Though some may doubt it, Reygadas insists that his least favorite
bridge the Cinema of the Possible and the Cinema of the Impossible, movie genre is fantasy, and he buttresses this stance by refusing to demar-
and Reygadas is a prime example of expanding on these new visual pos- cate the possible from the impossible in PTL. Fantasy insists on such
sibilities. The tools are, in fact, not important in themselves, and the demarcation, positing at its most extreme that the impossible world is far
only device brought up in the following two-part interview (the first preferable to the real one left behind. The realities of the imagined, the
part conducted in Cannes in May 2012, the second part conducted on dreamt, and the conjured, the harshness of nightmares generated by actu-
Skype between Los Angeles and Reygadas's home in the state of Guer- al fears, underlie every moment in PTL, even when the action may play
rero eleven months later) was a specially crafted, refracted lens used byout in the mundane atmosphere of the kitchen after a family dinner. Some
the director and his cinematographer Alexis Zabe during the film's of the most interesting artists in the current cinema dismiss any separation
exterior scenes. Rather, it's what the tools permit, and what the permis- between the world as seen with our eyes and a world beyond human
sion tells us about what Reygadas and other filmmakers like him—as vision. So, in Ulrich Kohler's Sleeping Sickness (2011), an alienated
disparate as they are from each other, Reygadas, }ia, Weerasethakul, French physician in Africa and a close cousin to Reygadas's Juan, trans-
and Alonso have dominated and in many ways have defined the past forms into a hippo. Impossible, but ask any red demon taking a break
decade's radical narrative cinema—are moving toward. from work, and he'll probably tell you that it's also true.—Robert Koehler

10 CINEASTE, Summer 2013

In an early scene of Carlos Reygadas's Post Tenebras Lux, a devil-like figure carrying a toolbox appears at night in the home of the protagonists.
Cinéaste: Do you consider yourself a radical filmmaker?
Carlos Reygadas: I had never thought of myself of being more rad-
ical or less radical. However, I think of myself as changing. Hopeful-
ly making natural, organic changes. I'm thinking of two films I want
to make, one is historical, which I've been thinking about and writ-
ing. Another is about people who I know. I've been thinking,
though, that it would be boring or absurd to make a historical film.
Then I felt that making this other film, without any limits and being
close to the individuals, to capture a reality of the thing and people,
would be more meaningful. This is what I want to do in cinema
more and more. I feel this need to do it. To capture beats of life,
whether it's situations or Individuals. I want to make those connec-
tions. I don't want to have huge success or make big films.
Cinéaste: Eor all of that, though. Post Tenebras Lux is a film that
appears to straddle what could be termed the Cinema of the Possible
and the Cinema of the Impossible. This may be one of the most exciting
developments in the art form recently, and the film is a potent example
of it. And this leads to a discussion about meanings.
Reygadas: The film is about many things, including the perception
of reality, of our dreams, fantasies, and in our direct experiences,
and in the acknowledgment of the reality beyond what we see and
hear. You and I know that there's a reality in places we haven't pos-
sibly visited or experienced firsthand—say, the Congo, or Central
China. As for the feelings people have from their experiences, and
¡what these may trigger in our dreams, or subconscious, these are felt
more or less powerfully. And if we didn't feel them we wouldn't be
alive. The rugby sequences are part of that. It could be happening in
the film's present at another place on earth, or as an episode in
Juan's younger life. The film is also about patriarchy, some of which
comes from the U.K., generated through life, war, sports. I could
have chosen a market in Mongolia, but I chose this.
Cinéaste: Are you critical of men in general?
Reygadas: Not so much that as I think I'm refiecting reality. Have
you walked through London on a Saturday night? It can be danger-
ous. Men aren't only violent, but we are violent. Men also laugh,
they enjoy life, but they can also get drunk and completely wild. You
rarely see sadism in my films, and my characters seldom get really
violent. They can get obnoxious, or out of hand. But I don't have a
case against men. I think we're the same, in most ways. And while
we're talking about it, I don't have any overall vision of women.
Really, what you see in all of my films is how I feel in general about
men and women.
Cinéaste: You designed all the elements related to the film, such as the
posters and the press book. You're in control of every aspect of the film,
from distribution through sales.
Reygadas: That's true, it's a consistency, which is why I like to keep
on the group who worked with me on the film through every aspect
of the production. So my assistant director is my press director dur-
ing Cannes. Totally different jobs.
Cinéaste: What's behind that? Other filmmakers might want to have
that kind of control, but few are able to do that at this level.
Reygadas: I worked hard for it. This total independence takes you
to a place where frustration is diminished. I'm very happy to work
this way. Everything has a nuance of expression, so if you use a
comma in the title, you choose a particular color for the poster, or
you think of a design for the press book, everything has to be con-
nected. I don't think of the poster as a commercial operation while
the film is artistic. Instead, every aspect is creative and about the
overall expression. The whole thing is clearly connected.
Cinéaste: To get into it one step further, the weirdly cursive typeface in
the graphic system of the film's published materials is extremely unusu-
al, but the film's actual credits have the same font you've always used.
Reygadas: The credits will always be like that, it's a way of tying all
of the films together. But the collateral work supporting the film
CINEASTE, Summer 2013 11
need to reflect the film on its own. The poster is how I felt it needed this way, he represents a kind of person who you see a lot in Mexico,
to be. These items will eventually disappear, but the credits will the way people in a certain position talk down to others.
always be there. I like to have that connection with all of the films. At one point, my wife asked me why I would let Juan—assuming
But I change the color each time. So japon [2002] is yeflow—some- he was me!—talk that way to others, and I explained that the film
how it's a "yeflow" film for me, connected with the earth. Battle in isn't about me and Juan isn't me.
Heaven [2005] had to be blue, of course. Silent Light [2007] is silver, Cinéaste: So Juan is not, as has been surmised, your alter ego?
or was intended to be—it's a silver film for me. And Post Tenebras Reygadas: It would be a misreading to see Juan as an alter ego. The
Lux is red-orange, the suggestion of blood. way he sees life and his wife, the way he's downbeaten and unsatis-
Cinéaste: It's also the color ofthe hoofed demon. fied, is more ofa critical view not of myself but ofthe world I belong
Reygadas: Yes, and it's the color of Mexico for me, because Mexico to, of my society. He's a representative of that, and of that upper
is bleeding. More people died in Mexico in the last six years than in class. He's a "Western Mexican." Western Mexicans tend to have
Afghanistan. Our land is bleeding. chronic dissatisfaction and see life from a disconnected point of
Cinéaste: About that demon. When that came on screen, you could view. He's detached, and he's that way since he's wealthy. His wife
hear a wave of astonishment come over the Cannes audience with whom Natalia is nothing like my wife. The kids, however, are my kids, and
I saw it. This is really a new kind of image you've made, an aspect ofa so are the animals. I do want to talk about what I know.
Cinema ofthe Impossible. Where did that come from? Some might view I wanted the film to be more about people with a certain status.
it as fantastical, while your films have been generally grounded in reali- It's a reflection of a lot of things in the world today, and perhaps one
ty, even with occasional explorations ofthe metaphysical thing especially. It's the reality that many people are divided in their
Reygadas: Actually, I wouldn't say that this is fantastical. Fantasy minds between their will and action. Few people can fully accom-
movies are one of the few genres I don't like. When I was designing plish their will. So the film is autobiographical in that sense, too, in
this devfl, and talking with the technicians, they kept going back to the way that I wrote about my feelings, and it came out in an auto-
notions from The Lord ofthe Rings [2001] and such. I explained to matic and instinctive way. I really felt that there was logic within the
them that this image came out of a dream I had, set in my parents' writing and I let it flow. I really feel that the film is coherent. I don't
house, where I lived until I was five. The toolbox the demon is carry- believe in relativism or this strange notion that anything can be shot
ing is actually my father's, the one he was carrying before I was born and thrown on the screen. I believe in coherence, but it doesn't have
and he still has. It's actually very realistic in a way. Why? This film is to be justified in a purely logical, rational way. If I feel it, that's good
about an experience ofa certain life, so there are dreams, fantasies, but enough for me. I felt this could flow and if I felt it, I trusted that oth-
actual fantasies we would have. We go back and forth in our own ers could feel it, too. Never forget that a filmmaker also watches
heads, we imagine a future that never comes, and then you see the films, so I can easily imagine myself as a viewer, and I wouldn't
past, and we go back and forth as we do in our own heads all the time. mind all this skipping in time. And if I can believe in it, then I think
I'm doing that in the film without a code or conventional limits others can as well.
in storytelling, and that's something some people don't like because
they think it's too cryptic or they don't have the grammar to deci- Cinéaste: This strategy of changing time signatures began during the
pher what's going on. The viewer nowadays is highly developed, and writing phase then?
can go very far, and doesn't need to be taken by the hand. Any view- Reygadas: Oh yes, it was fully written that way. In seventeen pages.
er can follow my film if you're not judging, but if you're judging Cinéaste: How long did the writing take?
ahead of time, then you can't follow. I think that's why the film Reygadas: Two days of writing, but that was the result of a process
doesn't work for some people. of thinking about it for over two years. During the five years since
Silent Light, I built my house, I spent a lot of time with workers in the
Cinéaste: That speaks to something central to the film, and deals with country. I spent a lot of time in a much rougher environment—the
something new for you, and that is a more intensive and complicated work is rough and physically demanding. There's the sun, the weath-
use of tense. Talking with a few people afier the Cannes screening, I er, dust, the land isfijflof snakes and creatures. So there's a lot ofthat
could see that they didn't perceive that there are fiashbacks, fiashfor- energy in the film, and along with that there is a lot of beauty. I think
wards, and that they tend to accelerate toward the end. You're in a sin- the film reflects the anguish, this fear, this beauty, and love for life.
gle tense for some length of the film, and then near the end, these tenses And of course there are the family issues. How the children can just
get more complicated, you go back, you go forward, and then you seem be themselves without emotional blocks, in contrast to the parents
to go way, way back at the finish. What was your thinking of experi- who are fuU of blockages and aren't complete.
menting with this time signature, Cinéaste: Juan, the husband,
and how might this connect to the and Natalia, the wife, are loaded
autobiographical aspects of the down with emotional and sexual
film? problems, while the kids are free
Reygadas: Well, I was thinking and playful. They completely
about how you pay close atten- drink in life, as conveyed immedi-
tion to the details in all of my ately in the first scene with the lit-
films and, in this way, we could tle girl's dream of playing amidst
consider Battle in Heaven. The the horses and cows in the field.
beginning and end are somehow Reygadas: When Juan thinks
connected to some tense, who back on his own childhood and
knows when it is exactly. Post has his revelation in bed near the
Tenebras Lux is very autobio- end of the film, he realizes that
graphical, in the sense of taking it's his children's time now. This
actual things that I experienced connects to my method of
and applying it to the film, but shooting. I ask people to just be
not in the sense of the values of themselves, just to be in the
the main characters who are moment. With my kids that was
quite different from mine, as in quite easy and natural. They
the way they conduct them- knew we were making a movie,
selves, or the way Juan beats his and that they were in it, but they
dogs, or the way he talks with just stayed themselves. The same
the people who work for him. In A refracted lens was used to create dreamlike images for some scenes
in Post Tenebras Lux, including this scene with Regyadas's daughter. for Adolfo as Juan.
12 CINEASTE, Summer 2013
In Carlos Reygadas's Post Tenebras Lux, seemingly ordinary scenes such as this can suddenly erupt in a shockingly surrealistic manner.
Cinéaste: There's a fascinating aspect of the film dealing with the men
working in the farm community—the guys like Siete and the older guy
talking about the malicious cutting of the tree. They're tough, a hit like
the guys in Japon, and yet they also have these scenes of pure confes-
sional, not Catholic, but under the structure of an AA meeting. There's
a temptation to read these as slices of documentary life, but I suspect
that you engaged in a lot of intervention and invention here, and fic-
tionalized actual sources. Is that the case?
Reygadas: Yes, everything is fictionalized, but they come from real
sources. It's funny you mention Japon, because the fat guy in that
scene about cutting down the tree is played by the actor I originally
wanted to play the nephew who arrives at the house in Japon and
wants to remove the stones. I've known him since childhood. He's
so kind yet can also be so violent and grotesque.
Cinéaste: He's hilarious.
Reygadas: Speaking with him in Spanish is such a pleasure, he
speaks in this crazy manner and I completely adore him as an indi-
vidual. Everything in these scenes is pulled from moments and
exchanges and episodes I observed. Even things like the guy who
talks about killing his sister is something I heard, something really
crazy. I was astonished. You realize the cultural shock that Mexico
exists in, between a Western world and a world that is not Western
at all. It can be nuts. We have that interaction that can be very rough
but also very enriching. It's a rougher place than the United States
but also richer. I'm not talking about wealth. This shock of cultures
is more than a coexistence, it's a natural total intermingling, and it's
so powerful.
Cinéaste: The domestic life in Post Tenebras Lux becomes sadder and
sadder. It starts on a note of happiness almost like that in a Renoir
painting, and then it grows sadder. It all takes a turn with the robbery,
the shooting of Juan, leading to him losing a lung. The narrative here is
especially strong. You do this in each of your films where the narrative
is deliberately weak for long stretches and then, at a certain point, the
narrative asserts itself. It seems to slam its fist down on the table and
insists on being there. Do you feel that process while creating the film?
Reygadas: I do, instinctively, but clearly. I've often been associated
with this notion of nonnarrative cinema. My cinema is tremendous-
ly narrative. There's always a clear line that connects. I must also
add, however, that I don't agree that cinema is just about telling sto-
ries, as so many people argue. You tell stories in painting, too, but
painting isn't just about telling stories either. Ginema and painting
are driven by images, and the power of conveying feelings through
sound and image. But I feel that the story has to be there as a special
element that conveys what's necessary for the viewer. So yes, I feel
that the narrative lias to be down, then up again, and in this film
that's consistent, and is told in the present tense. You have this at
key points, as in the robbery, or near the end at Juan's bedside. The
present tense is like a bone structure for the body of the film, and it
has to be strong. When, for example, she's playing Neil Young's "It's
a Dream," that's like supercondensed narrative.
Cinéaste: "It's a Dream, " and yet your company is No Dream Cinema.
Reygadas: Yeah, I hadn't thought of that before. How do you like
"It's a Dream"?
Cinéaste: It's one of Young's most beautiful songs. My wife had been
CINEASTE, Summer 2013 13
playing it on her computer asking servants to bring
just a week before Gannes, so them things—they start lov-
I happened to have listened ing it, and then start to
to it several times very recent- abuse it!
ly. It was personally stunning Cinéaste: You actually don't
to hear it again in a context make a point of showing the
where I think I least expected maid until well into the film.
it—in one of your films! And then we realize that
The theme of social classes Juan and Natalia have a
in Post Tenebras Lux recaUs maid in their house. This
Battle in Heaven and its made things feel even more
unlikely pairing of the blue- like Mexico. And it showed
collar chauffeur and the rich that class difference without
general's daughter. Here it's insisting upon it.
subtler but unmistakable. Reygadas: Yes, it's there
You weave it into the narra- because that's exactly how it
tive, and when the narrative is. It's simply there, and one
kicks is where class differences doesn't even have to com-
emerge. Does this indicate ment about it. There are
something you've been think- plenty of Americans in the
ing about for a long time? area I live and, after living
Reygadas: I tried to be Natalia (Nathalia Acevedo) in the bathhouse sequence in Post Tenebras Lux. there for a while, they also
loyal to the reality of the start loving servants. You
place, the atmosphere of can't imagine how they love
how these people live and feel. If you're portraying the way these it, and very often they start abusing it. Expatriates may start off with
people are, then depicting class differences and conflicts is an none, but then they hire one, then another, and then maybe even a
inevitable part of the portrayal. If you're doing the same thing in a chauffeur. It's like they begin to imagine themselves as royalty. If it's
U.S. setting, and show somebody having breakfast, you'll inevitably possible to place others below you, you begin to exploit them. It's
portray the characters' values while they're having breakfast. In the the Western mind.
same way here, J portray their values. If they weren't conveyed, I Cinéaste: The rugby sequences are interesting, and mark the last
would be tricking the audience. I wanted to show that this is how images in the film. There was the soccer scene in Battle in Heaven. You
people of a certain class treat others in a different class. Juan always like sports. But here it was a bit mysterious, seemingly out of context.
thinks of himself as being above Juan'sflashbackperhaps?
others, and this is typical of some- Reygadas: Technically, it's that.
one in his class and position. Even But you can expand it to something
when he's dealing with someone more. Mexico is bleeding, dying,
else on a friendly basis, he always and it's raining blood all over the
thinks of himself as on top. And he land. But Juan thinks back to a bet-
does this quite naturally, without ter time, and life goes on, and we try
being conscious of it. It's second to amuse ourselves in every way we
nature for him. can. There's also this will to live
That's also a Western way of that's expressed by the boy at the
thinking, which by definition very end, in this beautiful thing he
implies superiority. Since rational- says to his teammates: we're
ism exploded over two hundred stronger than them, they are a lot of
years ago in Europe, and achieved individuals, but we are a team. This
the status it has today, it's why colo- can be even extended to the rest of
nialism existed, why Indians were life— it's a rallying cry.
wiped out in so many places. That's Cinéaste: So you think of this as a
why Africa was destroyed, and why call to arms?
people are so unhappy in the West- Reygadas: In a way, but I don't
ern world. This separation from the mean it to be that in a mechanical
natural world will always cause suf- way. But to suggest that life goes on,
fering, and why fascism will re- and that this spirit needs to be
emerge again and again. Even called up.
though the cycles may be longer, the
Cinéaste: Watching this sequence, I
paradigm is there, and you could
was thinking of the great soccer player
stretch the anthropological analysis
Hristo Stoichkov, who had such an
of the film. This husband and wife
enormous impact on both Bulgaria
are the Westerners in the film, and
and Gatalonia with his play and his
what I'm saying for the Western
leadership. When the boy makes this
paradigm goes directly to those rela-
statement, it's a statement of leader-
tionships. I have French friends who
ship. Still, it's a strange note to leave
come to Mexico, and when they
the film on. I'm wondering why you
arrive they're shocked to see maids
ended the film there.
and servants in everyday homes.
Reygadas: We try to live with
They say that this wouldn't be
structures, and we get confused
looked upon very well in France. Reygadas supervised the design and production of the poster
within these structures, and we get
Then, three days afterward, they're and other promotional materials for Post Tenebras Lux,
including the selection of the distinctive typeface used. disappointed and may face tragedy.
14 CINEASTE, Summer 2013
But then we face hght after darkness, thus the title. That's Juan's rev- Cinéaste: Some reports have claimed that there was significant re-edit-
elation before his death. There's darkness and then there's light, and ing. However, I detected very little re-editing on a recent second viewing.
then life carries on. We're animals, but we're also rational, we play, Reygadas: I did re-editing, but keep in mind that I've done this with
and we have human communication. I'm suggesting at the end, all of my films after they first screened in festivals like Cannes and
okay, let's not be devastated, let's carry on. Rotterdam. When I presented Post Tenebras Lux in Cannes, I never
Cinéaste: It's like the start of a new movie at the very end. Which can felt that the film was finished. I need the public exhibition of the film
be one definition of what a good movie does: when it ends, it starts a myself to rethink things. That process isn't closed. But the versions are
new movie. so subtle it may have not been worth it. A typical example is a scene
Reygadas: Yes, exactly. You could imagine that a political movie after Juan is wounded. The family is playing outside, and Natalia is
begins at that moment. hugging her kids. She then
Cinéaste: [Mexican film-
maker] Michel Lipkes told
"I've never had regrets, not because the walks back to the house.
Now we cut to Juan in bed.
me that the refracted lens film is perfect. A film is not an object, not I cut out the scene where
you use is for the scenes in a clock or a car, rather it's a reflection of she's walking back home.
the present tense. Cinéaste: The changes you
Reygadas: No. It's used
who you are when you make it." made in Japon, especially
only for the exteriors. The only exception is an interior point-of- the ending, were far more significant.
view shot of Juan's when he looks at a print of "The Iceberg," a mag- Reygadas: Oh, by far. No comparison. Making Post Tenebras Lux
nificent painting by Frederick Edwin Church. It suggests that he's took a long period of time, between the end of Silent Light and now.
going to die. During this period I had my kids, it's when I built my house in the
Cinéaste: What was the thinking behind the use of the refracted lens? country, and I actually spent most of my time as a construction
Reygadas: I don't want to get too analytical about it, but it can sug- planner working with construction workers. Those elements all
gest the way we might see a dream. It's like when Impressionism came into the film, but rather as ideas than direct depictions of
started, and they realized it's possible to paint the sky green instead moments. When you live, you feel, and when you feel, you think,
of blue, because we've had enough of seeing it blue and we can rein- and you come up with questions. And those questions get into the
terpret according to our feelings. It was inspired partly by building film. Because of the process of converting those questions and per-
my house. When it was time to install the windows, I installed mod- sonal elements of my life, the way the characters experience and deal
ern glass and I didn't like it because modern glass is perfect, you can with conflict is far from me. I feel closer to the farmer-husband in
see anything. A window isn't a window anymore. It just keeps you Silent Light, much more than to Juan. It's about feeling closer to the
from the heat and cold. So I decided to put the window glass in an interior of the character. •
oven to create a distorted effect and gain the qualities of old glass,
Post Tenebras Lux is distributed in the United States by Strand Releasing,
which is magnificent.
www.strandreleasing.com.
Cinéaste: But these lenses were etched and engineered.
Reygadas: Yes. What happens is that the outside of the lens is pol-
ished and shaved so it becomes flat, atid then it creates a refraction.
It was a 25mm lens, and it reacts differently depending on the light
and atmosphere, as well as the camera movement. The optical work
was done in Germany. It's meant to be used for blurry images. But
then I realized it could create a kind of double image, producing an
amazing effect.
Cinéaste: How did you discuss this with your cinematographer Alexis
Zabe?
Reygadas: He was afraid of using it, but I convinced him to go
ahead with it, and we did.
In April of this year, I reconvened with Reygadas, via Skype, to discuss
Post Tenebras Lux post-Cannes, just before its U.S. theatrical release.
Cinéaste: We're talking again eleven months after the Cannes pre-
miere. What are you doing right now?
Reygadas: I'm building a stone barn for two horses, mainly for my
kids to learn how to tend to an animal.
Cinéaste: How has the film changed for you in the interim period, if at
all?
Reygadas: To be honest, the film is a bygone. It's gone. The experi-
ences and memories of the film are there, but I'm even beginning to
forget things in it. I'm preparing the DVD extras, and I had to go
into the archives to find cut scenes that I had forgotten. You use so
much energy in making the film that, after you're done, you want to
let it go. I haven't even read a lot of reviews of it, until recently.
Cinéaste: Did you have any doubts about the film in the wake of such
a stormy Cannes reception, where you had both some harsh reviews
and also won the Best Director prize?
Reygadas: I've never had regrets, not because the film is perfect. A
film is not an object, not a clock or a car, rather it's a reflection of
who you are when you make it. You don't regret how you were at
eighteen. The film is what it was. Regarding the response, the trend
remains that some people don't like it, some do, but I feel that the
negative views are diminishing and the positive views are increasing.
The criticism I've read on the Web and in print in the U.K. and
Mexico, for example, has been impressive.
CINEASTE, Summer 2013 15
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