By Iain Blair
Oscar-winner Ron Howard is one of Hollywood’s most beloved and versatile directors and producers. Since his directorial debut in 1977 with Grand Theft Auto, he’s made an eclectic group of films about boxers, astronauts, mermaids, politicians, mathematicians and more, so it was probably only a matter of time before he directed his attention to hillbillies.
Based on the J.D. Vance memoir of the same name, Howard’s latest film, Hillbilly Elegy, is a modern exploration of the American dream — and the nightmare of poverty and opioid addiction. A former Marine and current Yale Law student, J.D. (Gabriel Basso) is on the verge of landing his dream job when a family crisis forces him to return home to his family in Appalachia. He has to contend with his volatile mother, Bev (Amy Adams), who’s struggling with addiction, while being fueled by the memories of his grandmother Mamaw (Glenn Close), the whip-smart woman who raised him.
Howard, who assembled a crew that included DP Maryse Alberti; editor James Wilcox, ACE; and composers Hans Zimmer and David Fleming, recently talked with me about directing the Netflix film and his love of post.
What was the appeal of doing this, and what sort of film did you set out to make?
I was drawn to the characters and region because in many ways, my own family heritage aligned with J.D.’s — small town, rural Oklahoma for me — and I’d been looking for a contemporary family story for a long time, one based in these areas with that particular cultural sensibility. I found much of that in J.D.’s book, and as we talked more and I met his family, that promise deepened.
How tough was the shoot?
It was very hot and very fast. We shot a lot on location in Georgia and Ohio then shot interiors at Screen Gems in Atlanta.
Can you talk about the look you and DP Maryse Alberti went for?
We wanted a very naturalistic look with a vibrant palette and an unselfconscious approach. Maryse is very fast. We did a lot of setups every day and covered a lot of emotional territory, and I think her documentary background was important.
James Wilcox cut this. How did you work together, and what were the main editing challenges?
James, who’s done a lot of TV, cut Genius for me. My longtime editors Dan Hanley and Mike Hill had decided to retire, so James came back for this, and he’s a great fit. He’s also going to cut my next film.
He was based in New York, and we cut traditionally. He didn’t come to Georgia on location, but we stayed in touch and he got dailies and sent me scenes as he assembled them. He’s very strong with performance and very cinematic and creative. In fact, it was his idea to use the preacher at the beginning. It wasn’t scripted. It was something he found and tried, and we all loved it.
The idea of using family photos at the start was something he also just ran with, and like everyone else on the project, he forged this personal relationship with the material and the challenges of family life, which made me realize just how universal this story is.
I know you like to screen a lot during editing. I assume you did that with this film as well?
A lot — and lots of small screenings, just 20, 30 people — so we could really drill down and find out what was connecting and what wasn’t. We listened to audience members talk about it, and the Netflix team was so supportive when I wanted to go back and shoot a couple of new scenes and refine some others.
We shot another four, five days in Atlanta, and when we wrapped in mid-March, the whole film industry basically shut down due to COVID. And by some miracle, no one on the set got it.
Post must have been a big challenge?
Yeah, as it was all remote. I really love post, but I’ve never done a post like this before, and I wasn’t there in person as usual for any of the ADR, and that was a bit unsettling.
But luckily the movie was in good shape before we began post, even with that new footage we had to deal with. We did it all in New York. James and his assistants all worked out of home. Harbor Post did the editorial and mix, and sound designer Grant Elder and supervising sound editors Bob Hein and Josh Berger did a lot of very detailed work on the sound.
Company 3 did all the dailies for us and the DI – all remote. Tim Stipan was the colorist, and the sessions were kind of weird, with everyone masked and staying 15 feet apart — same with the mix. We also did one or two big test screenings with a regular audience, and I did another focus group, but fewer than normal, and COVID made it all very difficult.
This is your ninth collaboration with composer Hans Zimmer, who was joined by co-composer David Fleming. Can you talk about the importance of the music?
It’s always such a crucial part of post, and I really wanted a score that took the audience on a journey and that was really about these characters and not one with the obvious regional sounds you might expect from the title.
I didn’t want it to sound anything like Deliverance, for instance, and they did an amazing job, although Hans got COVID and we had to do it all remotely. And appropriately we mixed at Hans’ Remote Control in Santa Monica.
There are quite a few VFX by Crafty Apes. What did that entail?
The big one was the factory where we shot because it wasn’t a steel mill, so we used it as the bones, and then we digitally designed the whole steel mill. We also extended the town a bit, and that helped with the different eras. And we didn’t use real fire with the kids in that frightening flashback and, of course, we had a fair amount of cleanup and period fixes, and Crafty Apes did a great job.
You’ve made several films based on true life stories, so you know translating any book to a visual medium is always tricky. How challenging was it?
You’re right, it’s always a challenge, and when you condense a book like this, there’s always some creative license and changes you have to make to tell the story in a compelling way. But my goal’s always to portray what I saw as the truth of the story, and as a director, you have to have control of all that.
I discussed all that with J.D., his mother and sister and other family members, and their greatest concern was that we got Mamaw all right, with all her inconsistencies, warts and all. Her memory was very meaningful to their lives, and they were blown away when they saw what Glenn Close was doing with the character.
All Glenn had to work with was the conversations she had with them and a few home movies, most of which we used in the title sequence, along with photos, some audio tapes and so on. But the family was so appreciative and moved — and emotionally shattered by Glenn’s performance. It was almost like Mamaw was back for minute.
There’s been quite a lot of criticism about the film’s approach to some of the controversial and more political aspects of the issues. How do you respond?
Well, even the book’s title was immediately controversial and thought-provoking due to another aspect of the memoir, which is more geopolitical — and that’s not what I felt a film adaptation could really service and address.
What really interested me was focusing on the family and staying true and authentic about this family, their world and their journey, and then allowing that to be a window into some of these issues, instead of dealing with them in a more academic way.
What’s next?
I’m doing Thirteen Lives, about the famous Thai cave rescue of the soccer team kids. We’ll shoot in Australia and maybe in Thailand, and we plan to start end of March, assuming the pandemic’s more under control by then.
Industry insider Iain Blair has been interviewing the biggest directors in Hollywood and around the world for years. He is a regular contributor to Variety and has written for such outlets as Reuters, The Chicago Tribune, The Los Angeles Times and the Boston Globe.