The Most Original Movie of 1999.

Show: FRESH AIR
Date: OCTOBER 29, 1999
Time: 12:00
Tran: 102901np.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: Archive Interview with Filmmaker Werner Herzog
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:06

TERRY GROSS, HOST: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross.

Werner Herzog is one of the directors who reestablished Germany as a major force in cinema after its movie industry was decimated by Hitler and World War II. Herzog was born in 1942.

Many of his movies have been about physical and emotional extremes. Five of his films starred Klaus Kinski, including "Aguirre: The Wrath of God," about a mad Spanish conquistador; "Fitzcarraldo," about a man obsessed with building an opera house in the jungle; "Nosferatu," a retelling of the Dracula story with Kinski as the vampire; and "Woyzeck," about an insane murderer.

Now Herzog has made a documentary about his love-hate relationship with Kinski, who died in 1991. The documentary opens next Wednesday in New York and will open in other cities over the next couple of months.

Kinski was known for his extreme mood swings, paranoia, and an obsession with his work that paralleled Herzog's. One year ago, I asked Werner Herzog if he thought Kinski had a touch of madness in him, and if that made him especially gifted at portraying madmen.

(BEGIN AUDIOTAPE)

WERNER HERZOG, FILMMAKER: Yes, certainly, there was a high amount of hysteria inside this man. There was a blurred borderline between sanity and paranoia. I mean, the man was totally over the cliff sometimes. He was the most difficult one in the world. I think that a man like Marlon Brando was only kindergarten against him.

So Kinski would -- he was -- sometimes Kinski was the ultimate pestilence, and all the other actors in the crew would say, Oh, my God, how can you do this again to me, to us, to engage him again? And I said, Forget about all the hardships with them. He's somehow blessed, he has some touch of genius. There is something which makes it all worthwhile to go through it.

But at the same time, I have to say we had a very deep understanding for each other. We had friendship for each other. We had a rapport, an understanding which sometimes was not even verbal, but something that does not happen very often between an actor and a director. And those moments were moments where we achieved a lot, and unforgettable images, and unforgettable moments.

GROSS: Let me ask you about your film "Aguirre: The Wrath of God," from the early '70s, which Klaus Kinski starred in as the head of a Spanish expedition to Peru. And he becomes a madman, and he keeps pushing his men forward in this expedition, forward into crossing mountains and fording rivers that they can't possibly survive.

And he just becomes more and more obsessed and mad as the expedition becomes more and more dangerous, and more and more people die. What did you tell Kinski about the character?

HERZOG: I do believe that Kinski understood the character instantly once he read the screenplay. I sent the screenplay...

GROSS: I should say this is set in, like, 1560. I don't think I mentioned that.

HERZOG: Yes, it's Spanish conquistadors in search of El Dorado. And the entire army disappears without a trace in the jungle. So that's basically the story. And a madman, Kinski, grasps power -- and grabs power and leads everyone into inevitable death.

GROSS: So you were saying what you told him about the role.

HERZOG: He read the screenplay, and three days later I had a call at 3 in the morning. It that lasted until 4. And I could not understand who was on the line, because there were these inarticulate screams for half an hour. And I had the feeling I should stay on the phone, and I realized it was Kinski.

And he kept screaming. Then it became a little bit more articulate that this was a figure he always wanted to play. This was the role for him. And I had the feeling the man had understood exactly what it was all about. He had not understood, indeed, what hardship it would be to make that film, because we only had $360,000 to make this entire film, which is a $40 million project if you look at it. And he had never been into the jungle. He had just not known what was expecting him.

GROSS: The last line he speaks in the film -- after he has gone completely mad and everybody is basically dead -- he says, "We will endure. I am Aguirre, the Wrath of God. Who else is with me?"

How did you come up with that last line, and what does it mean to you?

HERZOG: Well, you have to know the situation. He's on the raft with dying and dead Spaniards floating down into some void of the Amazon basin. And hundreds of little monkeys have invaded the raft. And he -- they swarm all around him, and he grabs a monkey and he talks to the monkey. And he -- mad as he is, he is planning to found the purest dynasty on earth with his own daughter, who is actually dying.

And he talks to a monkey and he says, "I am the wrath" -- "I am Aguirre, I am the Wrath of God. Who else is with me?" and then tosses the monkey away.

So it is a great metaphor for -- and I can't even tell you for what. I can't even name it. But I know there's a great metaphor in the end.

GROSS: There's a wonderful camera shot -- you know, you described this last scene here in which Kinski's, you know, saying, "I am Aguirre, the Wrath of God." And everyone -- the raft that he's on is just in complete shambles, and all the remaining people are either dying or they're already dead. And as you said, you know, the monkeys have invaded the raft and they're all over.

And the camera first kind of, like, zooms across the river to the raft, and then circles around the raft in this slow but still kind of dizzying shot. Would you talk to me about that shot? It's really a magnificent shot. It's the shot that closes the movie.

HERZOG: Yes, it's the most simple thing you can do. Everybody thought it was a very complicated type of helicopter shot. It was actually a regular speedboat. And I maneuvered it myself, because I have a very good sense in my body how fast the camera should approach and then circle around the raft.

The only problem is that when you slow your boat down, coming from such a speed, you create a huge wake which overtakes you. And you have to look behind you and see what is happening. And so I kept looking at the camera, and I kept looking at the wake behind me. And I hardly could see the raft. I almost collided a couple of times with it. And I kept circling around it until we actually collided. But by then the film in the camera had run out.

GROSS: Huh. Now, in that shot, Klaus Kinski -- he's standing up, everybody else is lying down because they're all dead or dying -- and he's tilted to one side. I mean, he's not standing straight. He's all the way tilted at an angle, which just kind of emphasizes the madness that has overtaken him. What that his idea or your idea to have that tilt?

HERZOG: It's not only in the last scene. I had the feeling that Aguirre should be somehow deformed, a little bit disfigured. We thought about a hump on his back, a vicious little hump, like a little piece of cancer, like a little fist in his neck. But then we made a little hump on his chest, like a chicken chest. And I wanted him to walk like a crab a little bit, a little bit sideways, a little bit spidery, a bit eerie in his kind of movement.

And I think he did it very, very well. And it is not only the final scene. You will see throughout the movie. And the more the film closes down to its final scenes, the more it becomes visible.

GROSS: There's such intensity on Kinski's face in the film, and I'm wondering how he prepared for the role, what advice you gave him for that role, and how he prepared for it to capture the madness, the obsession.

HERZOG: There is no rule for that. I'm not into this kind of Method acting like Lee Strasberg studio. I just loath these kind of endless talks about a character.

It went in a different way. Sometimes, for example, when Aguirre turns mad and he declares to his men that he was the Wrath of God, and he threatens them and says, Everyone -- whoever just takes one grain of corn too much will be imprisoned for 155 years. And he says, "If I, Aguirre, want the birds to drop dead from the trees, the birds will drop dead from the trees."

So we had the text. Kinski wanted to play, to scream and throw a tantrum and have a fit of insanity. And I had the feeling it would be much, much better to have it at a very low level, totally reduced, totally dangerous, almost in whispers. So I provoked Kinski with a very nasty remark, and Kinski started to scream and throw a tantrum. So he kept screaming for one and a half hours until there was froth at his mouth.

And then he had exhausted himself. He was kind of finished and destroyed. And then I said, Roll the camera. And I said, Klaus, this is wonderful. Now, let's try and keep it very, very low in voice. Do it.

And he did it, and he did it once, and that was it. And it's one of the greatest scenes I've ever seen on a screen.

(END AUDIOTAPE)

GROSS: My guest is film director Werner Herzog. We'll talk more after a break.

This is FRESH AIR.

(BREAK)

GROSS: My guest is German film director Werner Herzog.

(BEGIN AUDIOTAPE)

Now, you made two films -- well, two films that I know of -- with Kinski in the jungle, "Aguirre" and "Fitzcarraldo." Did you get along well in the jungle together? I mean, I imagine that making a film in the jungle -- I know that making a film in the jungle is exceptionally difficult. And I know "Fitzcarraldo" had many, many difficulties that you had to overcome. But what did that do to your relationship with Kinski?

HERZOG: Well, it was our very first relationship, even though by coincidence I lived in the same apartment with him for three months when I was 13. And I met him there. I saw a totally mad person who would destroy the whole apartment in a whim or whatever.

So I knew what expected me. And, of course, there were moments of great harmony, and there were moments of unbelievable confrontations. And one of the worst was, for no reason whatsoever Kinski threatened to leave the set 11 days before the end of shooting.

GROSS: Which film was it?

HERZOG: I'm speaking of "Aguirre: The Wrath of God," so my first film together with him. And he packed all his things into a speedboat and he was just about to leave. Of course, that would have destroyed the entire film. And I told him that I had somehow made up my mind months ago what would be the borderline of what could be acceptable and not.

And, of course, the film, in my opinion, was more -- had more value than his or my private feelings, and disgust or whatever. And I said to him, If you leave the set now, you will reach the bend of the -- the next bend of the river, and I will shoot you. You will have eight bullets through your head, and the last one is going to be from me.

So the bastard somehow realized that this was not a joke any more. I was -- it wouldn't have taken me one second to deliberate, and he sensed that. And he screamed for help. He screamed for the crew to help him, assist him against this madman, and he meant me. He screamed for police, but, of course, the next police station was 450 miles away.

The result was that he was very docile during the last 11 days of shooting. And we finished the film.

GROSS: Do you really think you would have shot him?

HERZOG: If I try to put myself into this situation -- and that was back in 1972, beginning of '72, so 27 years ago -- yes, I think so.

GROSS: Was he angry with you? Did he think you were pushing him too hard for the movie?

HERZOG: No, no, no. It was -- it was just somehow he had forgotten his lines. And he would always look for an excuse, and he screamed that an assistant sound man had grinned at him. And I had to dismiss him on the spot. And I said, No, number one, he didn't grin. And even if he had grinned, we'd just repeat that thing and we'd take him out of your line of eyesight. That's all right. And I cannot...

And he ultimately demanded me to dismiss him right on the spot. And, of course, the entire crew would have walked out of the film if I had done such an injustice. It was his fault. It was his mistake. He just did not -- was unprepared and didn't know his lines any more. And the moment he stopped, he would find some sort of an opponent or some reason why he had stumbled.

GROSS: So it was basically a really a large temper tantrum.

HERZOG: It was more than that. It was close to -- very close to insanity.

GROSS: Oh, OK, yes.

I want to ask you about another film that you made with Klaus Kinski, and that's "Nosferatu." I love this version of the vampire story. Instead of the kind of dapper count that most Americans are familiar with through Bela Lugosi, he's a very ratlike ghoul, but one who seems very pained by his sentence of interminable life, and pained by the fact that he has to drink people's blood. But it's inevitable. He must. He has to, and he does it.

Would you talk a little bit about your vision of "Nosferatu"?

HERZOG: Well, my "Nosferatu" is based on the greatest German film ever, in my opinion at least, Murnau's silent classic "Nosferatu," which went out in 1924. And as a German filmmaker after the war, we grew up as -- not only me, but all my peers -- we grew up as a fatherless generation, as a generation of orphans.

Our fathers either had fled the country, were chased out, or they had sided with the barbarism of the Nazi regime. So we had no one to learn from, and we started to look out for our grandfathers. And that was Murnau, Fritz Lang, and others.

So I just needed to connect myself with a culture, with the legitimate great culture of Germany. And that was the culture of the grandfathers, or even earlier then that. So I made this film. But, of course, it's an homage to Murnau, and has been very important for me to do that film.

GROSS: You were born in 1942 and grew up in Germany at the very end of the war and in the postwar period. I'm wondering what your early memories are of the war or the postwar period.

HERZOG: I do have clear memories of that time. You have to imagine that when I was born in Munich, only two weeks later a bomb hit the house next to us. And our place was half-destroyed, and my mother discovered me, the baby, under a foot of shards of glass and debris. But I was unhurt, but my mother fled to the remotest mountain valley in Bavaria. And we got stuck there.

So by the age of 11 I had no idea what a telephone was. I had never seen movies. I had never seen a TV set. I barely had seen cars in my life. And you may not believe this, but I made my first phone call at the age of 17. But I made my first movie at the age of 19.

So that explains a little bit about my background. And, of course, I remember the hardships. And I remember that I was hungry as a child, and we had nothing to eat and things like this, which was quite all right, because I had a wonderful childhood, and I wouldn't like to miss that.

GROSS: You are very interested as a filmmaker in unusual and sometimes surrealistic kind of landscapes, and extreme landscapes, whether it's, you know, it's the jungle or the desert or a bombed-out area. And I'm wondering if you had a lot of visual images like that kind of imprinted in you in the postwar era when Germany was so bombed out.

HERZOG: No, I belonged to those Germans who didn't have a childhood image of the postwar Germany, because in this mountain village there was no real warfare. It was just occupied by 60 Americans at the very, very end of the war. It was the last pocket when -- of unoccupied territory, when Germany shrank more and more and more. All of a sudden, this was the last remaining unoccupied square mile or whatever.

And 60 Americans moved in Jeeps, and they were totally relaxed, troops chewing gum. And I had the feeling this was all the Americans of the world. And for the first time I saw a black man. And I was totally mesmerized by seeing him, because I had only heard about black people in fairy tales. And I immediately became friends with him and talked to him for hours.

So what I want to say is, the climate was not the climate of total distraction that Germany had witnessed. All around me it was a mountain village, a mountain valley, remote and just nature around. And only when I was 11 and the war was well over, I saw destroyed cities and bombed-out places. And I developed a concept of what must have happened.

(END AUDIOTAPE)

GROSS: Film director Werner Herzog, recorded one year ago. We'll hear more in the second half of the show.

Herzog has a new documentary called "My Best Fiend" about actor Klaus Kinski. It opens November 3 in New York and will open in more cities over the next couple of months.

I'm Terry Gross, and this is FRESH AIR.

(BREAK)

GROSS: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross, back with more of our interview with Werner Herzog, one of the film directors who remade the German cinema after it was destroyed by World War II.

His new documentary, "My Best Fiend," is about Klaus Kinski, the actor who starred in five of Herzog's films and was known for his genius as well as his volatility and paranoia.

When we left off, Herzog was talking about growing up in Germany during and after World War II. I asked Herzog if it was frightening to grow up in the war's aftermath among the ruins.

(BEGIN AUDIOTAPE)

HERZOG: Everybody thinks that German children who grew up in the postwar time had a terrible childhood. On the contrary, nobody was frightened. All my school friends who grew up in the cities, they were -- they are delirious about speaking of this time when they grew up in ruins and there was no -- it was pure anarchy in the best sense of the word.

There were no fathers around to tell them what to do and how to do things. They would be the masters and the kings of, let's say, a whole block that was bombed out. And they would -- it was the most wonderful playground for children. For example, in my case, in this last days of war some soldiers had fled into this area and had hidden their weapons under the hay or in the forest. And by age 4, age 5, I had a working submachine gun and fired with it. And I tried to hunt a crow, because I wanted to make a soup, I was so hungry.

And my mother discovered that, and she was totally calm and explained to us how lethal a weapon like that could be, by just demonstrating it, by shooting one single round through a thick log of beechwood. And we were so stunned by it, by the force and violence of such a weapon, that we immediately had a clear sense how to behave.

And it was just learning by experience. And the childhood of practically all the children who grew up in the postwar time was wonderful, as strange and as paradoxical as it may sound.

GROSS: Now, you did have a father, I believe. And I think you've described him as someone who was a militant atheist. And at 14 you converted to Catholicism. Was that, like, in reaction against your father?

HERZOG: I do not believe so, because I grew up without the presence of my father.

GROSS: Oh, I see.

HERZOG: In other words, my father was away in the war, and then he was a prisoner of war and came back a year and a half later, and then almost immediately divorced my mother. So I grew up without his presence. I wouldn't say it was a move against an overwhelming father figure. He was simply was not there.

But at the age of 14 there was a time of extremely lucid moments that I had. I had a very intensive religious urge, and I started to travel on foot. I walked all around the country Albania, always following its borderline. That's exactly Kosovo, where there is all this turmoil right now. But I was only 14 and a child.

And at that time I knew and I decided that my destiny inevitably was to be a poet or be the one who had to make the images, who had to make the films. And I shouldered all this very, very clearly, knowing that it would not be an easy life.

GROSS: Now, I've read about this walk around Albania when you were a teenager. And I can't say I really understand what motivated you to do something so both extreme and in some ways pointless.

HERZOG: No, it was not pointless, certainly not at that time. And whenever I have traveled on foot -- and I've traveled very, very large distances -- it always would have a very intensive, essential reason in my life.

GROSS: What was the reason with Albania?

HERZOG: It was a deep mystery. There was in the middle of Europe a white dot on the map, a country that was totally inaccessible. It was like Tibet in the '50s or '40s when nobody was allowed to go in. Visas were denied to everyone. And also some sort of heritage. My mother's family comes from the Balkans. They were actually Croatians.

So there were deep reasons behind all these things. I can give you an example which is easier to understand. When I wanted to marry and have children, I could have done it over the phone to propose. Or I could have written a letter and proposed. Or I could have taken a car. But I had the feeling a real man walks to his woman and proposes and asks the questions.

And so I crossed the Alps and I walked about a thousand miles and knocked at the door of my future wife. And in this case I actually told her that I had come on foot because I had one question to ask. So I asked it. And I think that was the right way to do it. So there was a very existential reason for it.

GROSS: You've made films about people who are blind and deaf, films about dwarves, films about extreme environments, two films set in the jungle, lots of films about people who have gone mad and are very obsessive. And I wonder if you think that interest in extremes comes from a part of your personality that is willed, or just something that is just a part of you. And do you know what I mean, if it is just this, like, natural understanding and gravitation to extremes?

HERZOG: Well, apparently it must be some part of me, and I think there is -- you observe it right that there is something personal about it, even though I am very cautious to look too intensively at myself. You may not believe this, but until this very day I do not even know the color of my eyes.

I do look into mirrors every single morning when I shave, but I'm looking at how I am shaving and whether I do it right. But I would not look into my eyes. I don't want to take a close look.

GROSS: Why not?

HERZOG: I don't know. I think it's a safety precaution. In other words, I'd rather die. I'd rather jump from the Golden Gate Bridge before I would go to an analyst.

GROSS: That's funny, because from someone who has such insight as a moviemaker, and who in a way studies states of mind, as a moviemaker to be so opposed to analysts, or to the kind of introspection that you're talking about, seems almost paradoxical.

HERZOG: No, it is not paradoxical. It is the only healthy way to stay alive.

GROSS: To study other people's madness and not look at the color of your own eyes?

HERZOG: No, no, no. It's -- no, no, you're better -- it's a hysteria here in America in particular to discover your inner self and talk about inner growth and all these stupid things. Once in a while, it is very sane, it's almost clinically sane to take a certain distance from yourself and to look at yourself with a certain caution, and do not step too far.

You see, what's wrong about the analysts is that -- Or let me put it in a different way. When you rent an apartment and you illuminate it with neon light to its very last corner and you put light everywhere, the apartment becomes uninhabitable.

And it's the same thing when you illuminate the inner structure of a human being too intensively, that's something which is against our destiny, which is against how we are created. And it does not do good to us. And it shouldn't be like that. Human beings become uninhabitable when you do that too intensively.

GROSS: Werner Herzog, I'd love to talk more. We're out of time. It's really been a pleasure to speak with you. Thank you so much.

HERZOG: You're welcome.

(END AUDIOTAPE)

GROSS: Film director Werner Herzog, recorded one year ago. Herzog's new documentary, "My Best Fiend," about actor Klaus Kinski, opens November 3 in New York and will open in more cities over the next couple of months.

Coming up, a new CD of music from "The Simpsons." We'll hear from the series composer.

This is FRESH AIR.

This is a rush transcript. This copy may not
be in its final form and may be updated.

TO PURCHASE AN AUDIOTAPE OF THIS PIECE, PLEASE CALL 877-21FRESH
Dateline: Terry Gross, Philadelphia, PA
Guest: Werner Herzog
High: Filmmaker WERNER HERZOG. His new documentary "My best Fiend" is about actor Klaus Kinski who starred in Herzog's films "Aguirre the Wrath of God," "Fitzcaraldo," and "Nosferatu." (REBROADCAST from 10/27/98)
Spec: Movie industry; Art; Entertainment

Please note, this is not the final feed of record
Copy: Content and programming copyright 1999 WHYY, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by FDCH, Inc. under license from WHYY, Inc. Formatting copyright 1999 FDCH, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to WHYY, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission.
End-Story: Archive Interview with Filmmaker Werner Herzog
Show: FRESH AIR
Date: OCTOBER 29, 1999
Time: 12:00
Tran: 102902NP.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: Archive Interview with Composer Alf Clausen
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:45

TERRY GROSS, HOST: The longest-running sitcom currently on TV is also the longest-running prime time animated series in TV history, "The Simpsons." It's not just the great animation and knowing satires of dysfunctional families that make the show so funny, it's the satires of pop culture, like the show's song parodies. A second volume of music from the series has just been released called "Go Simpsonic With the Simpsons."

(AUDIO CLIP, SONG EXCERPT FROM "GO SIMPSONIC")

ACTOR: Yabadabadoo!

(singing): Simpson, Homer Simpson, he's the greatest guy in history.
From the town of Springfield, he's about to hit a chestnut tree.

(END AUDIO CLIP)

GROSS: Music from "The Simpsons" new CD. Much of the music on the show is composed or rearranged by Alf Clausen. On this archive edition, we have a 1997 interview with him.

I asked Clausen how he works with "The Simpsons" writers who come up with the lyrics.

(BEGIN AUDIOTAPE)

ALF CLAUSEN, COMPOSER: Very closely. It's a collaborative effort in creating the songs. I'm usually given a set of script pages that contain the lyric, and I'm usually given enough pages in front of the lyric and behind the lyric so that I know what the setup of the scene is supposed to be.

And once I'm given the lyric, I'll be in conference with the producers, and I'll get a scan from them as to the pacing of the lyric, what the intent of the scene is, what the ambience of the song should be.

There are times at which the lyric doesn't always match up pacing-wise, line to line to line, and at that point I'll pick up the phone, talk to the producer who wrote the lyric, or if it's a combination of producers, we'll have a conference call.

And I'll say, you know, Line number 15 has seven words, and line number three has four words, so what can we do to make those match? So that from a song standpoint, it's easier for me to create something in a song form.

So it's a collaborative effort. They're very cooperative that way. We get the lyrics honed down to where the pacing feels right, then I proceed to compose a song from there.

GROSS: Let me move to another track on "The Simpsons" "Songs in the Key of Springfield" CD. And you wrote a theme for the Springfield news show "Eye on Springfield, with Kent Brockman."

CLAUSEN: Right.

GROSS: Tell me about writing this theme, and what you think of TV themes and news themes that you hear.

CLAUSEN: I think that my take on TV news themes in general now is that somewhere along the way, there has been a god of rock and roll that has reached down and grabbed every news director by the neck and said, Our news theme must contain rock and roll, and our news theme must be synthesized, because that's what the public relates to now. It gives us all this excitement.

And that's what I tried to reach for in the Eye on Springfield theme, the rock group, plus the electronic synthesized music that everybody has come to know and love.

GROSS: Well, let's hear -- let's hear your version of this, the Eye on Springfield theme with Kent Brockman.

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, "EYE ON SPRINGFIELD" THEME)

KENT BROCKMAN: Hello. I'm Kent Brockman, and this is Eye on Springfield.

(INSTRUMENTAL ROCK MUSIC)

HOMER SIMPSON: Wow. Infotainment.

(END AUDIO CLIP)

GROSS: What are some of the for-real TV themes that you've written over the years?

CLAUSEN: Well, TV themes has not been my bailiwick, as they say. I co-wrote the theme to the "Alf" series, and other than that, I have been basically known as an underscore music person, not a theme writer.

GROSS: And what is underscoring?

CLAUSEN: Underscoring is all of the music that you hear within the body of the show, other than the theme -- underscore music that accompanies dialogue, underscore music that takes us from one scene to another. Underscore music is often feature music that really is designed to complement the mood of a particular scene.

GROSS: And how much underscoring do you have to do for "The Simpsons"?

CLAUSEN: It's quite extensive. On my normal schedule, I have about 30 music cues to write for an episode, and I have about a four-day turnaround for that. And the music is all written for a 35-piece orchestra, so it's pretty intense.

GROSS: I want to get to another song on "The Simpsons" CD, and this is actually a parody of a song from "School House Rock," the song "I'm Just a Bill on Capitol Hill." And this was a song written by Dave Frischberg (ph) that's supposed to describe -- I mean, that does describe how a bill becomes a law. And this is a really clever parody of that, by a demagogue.

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: You know, sung in the persona of a demagogue. And Jack Sheldon (ph), who -- the trumpeter who sang the original version, sings this one as well. Tell us how this one came about.

CLAUSEN: Well, again, the lyric originated as part of the script, and when I was given the sample that this was supposed to follow, when I heard the original, my first comment was, Well, that's Jack Sheldon singing. And the producer said, Do you know him?

And I said, Oh yes, he's a friend of mine, he's worked for me many times in the past. He worked for me on "Moonlighting," playing some of his beautiful, beautiful trumpet solos. He's one of the best jazz trumpet players in the world.

And I said, Wouldn't it be funny if we could get Jack to sing on our parody, as well as the original. And the comment was made of, Do you think we'd be able to get him? And I said, Sure, let me make the call. I called Jack, and Jack said, I'd be glad to do this.

So it really, I think, makes it come that much closer to home and gives the bite that much more significance.

GROSS: What did you have to do, musically, to make it not exactly what the original song is? I mean, Dave Frischberg, who wrote the original, probably wasn't going to sue you, but is that the kind of thing you have to worry about?

CLAUSEN: It's an interesting challenge. By the way, Dave's an old friend of mine. He and I used to play casuals together when I was still playing.

GROSS: Casuals?

CLAUSEN: And before he -- Casuals. You know, weddings, dances...

GROSS: Oh. Oh, no kidding.

CLAUSEN: ... and stuff like that. I was a bass player, he was a piano player, and we played some jobs together before he moved to New York and became a famous songwriter.

It's always an interesting challenge to try to walk the line of creating an homage to someone, but not duplicating it note for note. So obviously, I'm always concerned about the fact that what I want to do is original, but nevertheless brings back the ambience of the selected parody piece.

It's tricky, but I think we got it to work.

GROSS: Well, let's hear the parody of "I'm Just a Bill." The parody is called "The Amendment Song," and this is from an episode of "The Simpsons" called "The Day the Violence Died."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, "THE AMENDMENT SONG")

BOY'S VOICE: Hey, who left all this garbage on the steps of Congress?

JACK SHELDON (singing): I'm not garbage.
I'm an amendment-to-be,
Yes, an amendment-to-be.
And I'm hopin' that they'll ratify me.
There's a lot of flag-burners who have got too much freedom.
I want to make it legal for policemen to beat 'em,
'Cause there's limits to our liberties.
Least I hope and pray that there are,
'Cause those liberal freaks go too far.

BOY'S VOICE: But why can't we just make a law against flag burning?

SHELDON: Because that law would be unconstitutional. But if we change the Constitution...

BOY'S VOICE: Then we could make all sorts of crazy laws.

SHELDON: Now you're catching on.

BART SIMPSON: What the hell is this?

HOMER SIMPSON: We need another Vietnam to thin out their ranks a little.

BOY'S VOICE: What if people say you're not good enough to be in the Constitution?

SHELDON (singing): Then I'll crush all opposition to me,
And I'll make Ted Kennedy pay.
If he fights back, I'll say that he's gay.

MAN'S VOICE: Good news, amendment. They ratified ya. You're in the U.S. Constitution.

SHELDON: Oh, yeah. Door's open, boys.

(CHEERING)

(END AUDIO CLIP)

GROSS: When you're writing a song parody, are you trying to write it as if it were serious, as if it were really a Broadway show or really a movie theme?

CLAUSEN: Absolutely. Absolutely. Not only in creating the songs, but in creating the underscore music for "The Simpsons" and trying to give credence to the emotional content of what the characters are saying. I'm always extremely serious.

And I think what happens is that the listener and observer gets pulled into the situation more effectively once the music is serious, so that when the gag finally comes, the gag then becomes twice as funny.

GROSS: The characters on "The Simpsons" have to sing. That is, the actors have to sing in character. Do you have to work with them on their singing voices? It must be hard to sing in character as Homer or to sing in character as Bart.

CLAUSEN: Well, that would be my reaction too. I would think that it would be extremely difficult. And yet Dan and Nancy and all of the other cast voices make it look so easy. And my hat is off to them, because I start to write some very, very challenging material for them.

The minute I found out that they could sing as well as they do, then the sky was the limit for me as far as being able to write challenging material, knowing that they would rise to the occasion.

They probably curse me when they go home at night, but they really do rise to the occasion. They make it look so easy. So I -- it doesn't seem hard to me.

(END AUDIOTAPE)

GROSS: Alf Clausen composes for "The Simpsons." Our interview was recorded in 1997. The new Simpsons CD is called, "Go Simpsonic With the Simpsons."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, SONG FROM "GO SIMPSONIC")

(JAZZY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC)

MAN'S VOICE: Pizza (ph). (inaudible) already.

(JAZZY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC)

(END AUDIO CLIP)

GROSS: "The Simpsons" will have a new Halloween episode on Sunday.

Coming up, John Powers reviews "Being John Malkovich."

This is FRESH AIR.

This is a rush transcript. This copy may not
be in its final form and may be updated.

TO PURCHASE AN AUDIOTAPE OF THIS PIECE, PLEASE CALL 877-21FRESH
Dateline: Terry Gross, Philadelphia, PA
Guest: Alf Clausen
High: Composer ALF CLAUSEN the man behind the music of "The Simpsons." There's a new compliation CD of music from the animated cartoon TV series, "Go Simphonic with the Simpsons" (Rhino). (REBROADCAST from 5/14/97)
Spec: Radio and Television; Music industry; Art

Please note, this is not the final feed of record
Copy: Content and programming copyright 1999 WHYY, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by FDCH, Inc. under license from WHYY, Inc. Formatting copyright 1999 FDCH, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to WHYY, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission.
End-Story: Archive Interview with Composer Alf Clausen
Show: FRESH AIR
Date: OCTOBER 29, 1999
Time: 12:00
Tran: 102903NP.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: "Being John Malkovich": A Review
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:52

GROSS: The new comedy "Being John Malkovich" was a hit at this year's New York Film Festival. Our film critic, John Powers, has a review.

JOHN POWERS, FILM CRITIC: I'm not sure whether "Being John Malkovich" will turn out to be the best movie of 1999, but I feel confident saying that it is the most original.

This media-age riff on "Through the Looking Glass" is so fresh and eccentrically brilliant that it makes most other movies seem as adventurous as episodes of "Everybody Loves Raymond."

John Cusack stars as Craig Schwartz, a failed street puppeteer who's caught in a routine marriage to Lotte (ph), a pet store employee, played by a frumped-up Cameron Diaz.

Then Craig lands a five-inkler (ph) job on the seven-and-a-halfth floor of a Manhattan office building, where the ceilings are so low everyone has to bend nearly double.

There he has two life-changing experiences. He falls for a cold-hearted colleague, Maxine, who's played with crisply amusing bitchiness by Katherine Keenert (ph). And more amazing, he stumbles across a hidden passageway that leads directly into, of all places, the mind of John Malkovich.

Pass through its opening, and you can literally be Malkovich, sharing the actor's vanity as he preens in the mirror, enjoying his pleasure while he makes love to a woman, relishing his fame when he instantly gets the table he wants in a crowded restaurant.

Astounded, Craig can't wait to tell Maxine all about it.

(AUDIO CLIP, "BEING JOHN MALKOVICH")

JOHN CUSACK, ACTOR: There's a tiny door in my office, Maxine. It's a portal. And it takes you inside John Malkovich. You see the world through John Malkovich's eyes, and then after about 15 minutes, you're spit out into a ditch on the side of the New Jersey Turnpike.

KATHERINE KEENERT, ACTRESS: Sounds great. Who's John Malkovich?

CUSACK: Oh, he's an actor. He's one of the great American actors of the 20th century.

KEENERT: Oh, yeah? What's he been in?

CUSACK: Lots of things. That (inaudible) movie, for example, he's very well respected.

Anyway, the point is, this is a very odd thing, it's supernatural, for lack of a better word. I mean, it raises all sorts of philosophical-type questions, you know, about the nature of self, about the existence of a soul, you know. Am I me? Is Malkovich Malkovich?

(END AUDIO CLIP)

POWERS: Serious questions indeed.

"Being John Malkovich" starts a bit slowly, and at first I feared it was going to be about Craig and Lotte's many struggles. But the movie quickly knocks our expectations for a loop. The story spins off in directions so deliriously funny that we feel like we're walking over a series of trapdoors.

I don't want to spoil the surprises, so I'll say only that the movie's filled with fabulous bits, such as two women making love using Malkovich's body as their medium, and a narcissistic nightmare in which the real Malkovich plunges into a world in which every single person, from waiters to pearl-necked socialites, has his own face.

Playing himself is a savvy career move for Malkovich, who has fallen so deep into self-parody -- think of "ConAir" -- that the only cure was to deliberately spoof his own image. And that's just what he does here, sending up his glowering self-importance, his odd effeminacy, his reputation as a reptilian rogue, and even his ballooning paunch.

When the scheming Craig starts using the actor as his personal puppet, Malkovich does a spastic, half-naked dance that's so hilariously unflattering, I was impressed by the actor's daring. Would Ed Norton or Matt Damon risk the same?

"Being John Malkovich" is the long-awaited first feature by 29-year-old Spike Jones (ph), a maker of legendary music videos who can currently be seen playing the young racist soldier in "Three Kings." Most MTV guys prefer to make big action pictures like "Armageddon" so they can wow viewers with gaudy images and deafening explosions. But Jones is too confident to rely on flash.

He gives his actors room to act, uses a moody musical score by Carter Burwell (ph), instead of larding the sound track with pop songs. And he lets the hallucinatory events speak for themselves.

The movie's bursting with ideas about celebrity worship, the fluidity of gender, and the commercialization of everything, including miracles. It's possibly even a parable about Internet culture.

But Jones doesn't hammer away at his themes. He gives them an elegant tap, like Lionel Hampton playing the vibes.

For all of Jones's good work, this comedy's real creator is screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (ph), perhaps the great hero of American movies this year. At a time when most writers copy what's already been successful, Kaufman produced a script to prankishly original that it defied any rational expectation of ever being made.

There's even something admirably innocent about the inspired choice of focusing on John Malkovich. A cynic would have come up with "Being Brad Pitt."

GROSS: John Powers is film critic for "Vogue."

This is a rush transcript. This copy may not
be in its final form and may be updated.

TO PURCHASE AN AUDIOTAPE OF THIS PIECE, PLEASE CALL 877-21FRESH
Dateline: Terry Gross, Philadelphia, PA
Guest: John Powers
High: Film critic John Powers reviews "Being John Malkovich."
Spec: Movie Industry; Entertainment; "Being John Malkovich"

Please note, this is not the final feed of record

Copy: Content and programming copyright 1999 WHYY, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by FDCH, Inc. under license from WHYY, Inc. Formatting copyright 1999 FDCH, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to WHYY, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission.
End-Story: "Being John Malkovich": A Review
Transcripts are created on a rush deadline, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of Fresh Air interviews and reviews are the audio recordings of each segment.