CULT PROJECTIONS: You obviously have a deep love of genre movies. Tell me some of your faves that inspired you to become a filmmaker?
JESSE: So many genre films captured my imagination as a kid. Even the ones that terrified me - the inescapable dread of Alien, the heart crushing finale of Planet of the Apes. Those were the things that stuck with me and kept my in those worlds for days after watching. I didn’t know at the time but that’s what I love most about movies - being transported to other worlds. Even in a lighthearted outback b-movie like Two Heads Creek, it still felt like an opportunity to treat Australia as if it was another world. A sort of beer-soaked Wizard of Oz turned on its severed head.
CP: What horror movies of the past thirty years do you consider benchmarks? What is it about these that make them so watchable?
J: The best horror films are some of the best films, period. The Omen is one of my favourites, because it captures a tone of inevitable doom. Scream and From Dusk Til Dawn are 90s classics, because they have so much fun with terror and they create mythologies of their own. And I’ll always have time for Close Encounters of the Third Kind, even though it’s not technically horror - it’s terrifying horror until it isn’t. Then it gives us the most beautiful finale ever created. The best films can lift you out of your seat and elate you, even if you’re shocked and uncomfortable first.
CP: Micro-budget productions force filmmakers to compromise and be as inventive as possible. What was the most important lesson or element you learned from making Arrowhead to making Two Heads Creek?
J: Arrowhead was absolutely the best way to learn how to make a feature. So many mistakes were made, so many proud moments were had, and most of us who went into that desert came back with the best memories. We went through that process again with Quanta, which I produced, but again it was a constant battle between the creative process and the guilt of asking people to donate their time. With Two Heads Creek, we had a young crew but a much more seasoned one. Everyone had come from bigger films, so they were there to support my vision and do their jobs around me. It was funny because most of the crew thought they were doing a small film, but it felt big to me. So that need to micro-manage, thankfully, was gone this time. Two Heads Creek felt like a bigger league, and I had much less plates to spin.
CP: What was the budget for Arrowhead and what was the budget for Two Heads Creek?
J: The budget for Arrowhead was $180,000. No more, no less. We were financed by a Foxtel Channel (TV1) at the time, and they let us go out into the wilderness and bring back a movie. It was an amazing experience that probably won’t ever happen again. I don’t think most people who watch Arrowhead realise the budget was quite that low. It’s a shame it wasn’t a part of the conversation when it came out, because as a filmmaker I rush to these kinds of movies to see how they pulled it off. Two Heads Creek was a lot more comfortable. I don’t think I’m allowed to say how much yet, but we had just what we needed, and at the same time there’s still never enough. We’re getting to a point now where indie films have to be expensive enough to contain marketable content, but not so expensive that you won’t get your money back. It really is a new frontier.
CP: Where should a producer be most wise in costs on a micro-budget feature?
J: As a director I try to respect how much money the producers have and find creative ways to pick up any slack. There’s no point begging for money if it isn’t there. I think the smartest use of money is always cast. Finding talent isn’t that expensive if you do the numbers. We had a big cast of characters and I wanted Australian names and faces to fill the roster, so we went for it. The trick to casting is being financed first - agents pay attention when you have some money to spend.
CP: Would you prefer to make smaller budget movies and retain creative control, or make a big budget movie, but lose final cut?
J: I would love to play in a big budget sandbox, and I always felt I’d cooperate with the big executive bosses given the chance. They’d be giving me an opportunity and I wouldn’t want any delusions of grandeur to get in the way of that relationship. You see it happen with indie filmmakers who are snapped up into the system and then burn out because they stuck to their guns too hard. I’d fight for what I believe, but this art form is collaborative by definition. It’s all about working with a team towards the shared vision. Oh, and as a side note - I didn’t have final cut on Two Heads Creek either. Whenever someone else’s money is involved, it’s never your baby entirely. And it’s not always easy, but there’s always a finish line, when a lot of the tiny argued details don’t seem to matter as much.
CP: How important are practical effects? Do you use any CGI in Two Heads Creek?
J: We used a lot of practical effects, but augmented a lot of it digitally. I’m all for pure practical. But we had a very limited schedule, so sometimes the blood pumps don’t work or the gag doesn’t look as dynamic as it should. So a bit of digital blood here and there helps stitch together the seams. There’s also a CGI spiked boomerang hurtling towards the camera at one point. That was always going to be CGI because it called for that kind of moment. Everything needs to have balance.
CP: Creating horror comedy is a difficult balance. Were there any specific horror comedies you used as a barometer, when having the screenplay written? How did you and Jordan Waller come together?
J: Jordan’s script was pretty well formed by the time it got to me. The producers connected us, and we started collaborating very well from the beginning. His main touchstones were Edgar Wright’s films, and that was the brief that came from the producers, but I wanted to steer it in its own direction. I looked at the Evil Dead films, I looked at John Carpenter’s stuff, I watched Little Shop of Horrors, because this does have a music element. Mainly to see how the dark and light balances out, but it was always just a guide. That’s the thing, you can plan to mimic all you want, but in the end a film always forms itself. You can only control it so much, but that’s the beauty of it.
CP: What audience requirements do you consider the most important when making a horror movie?
J: A good story isn’t ever pure dark or pure lightness. Too much of something is always too much. It needs to have ups and downs, and take the audience on a roller coaster. For me, the main goal wasn’t putting enough gore or enough laughs - I knew that stuff was easier, to a degree - the main goal was to keep the story focused on its heart. It was all about a family finding each other. So as much as I grinned over a severed limb or a genius ad lib, I grinned twice as much when we shot a dolly push towards our main characters embracing. That’s the heart of storytelling - the emotion underneath all the fun stuff.
CP: Your movie has gone down very well with cinema audiences. Does it concern you that the future of the cinema experience is under threat, with rising ticket costs, and the ever-expanding streaming platform?
J: It’s definitely a concern if we lose that communal experience of going to the movies. This film was a blast to watch with an audience, because that’s how you know it’s working. There’s psychology behind being in the cinema, and being given permission to laugh by those around you. Streaming platforms are great, but I hope the future has a bit of both.
CP: What about the commercial demand for PG/M rated horror? What’s your opinion on the battle between the art and the commerce of genre filmmaking?
J: I lean towards the commercial, so I can think of a handful of PG or M horror films that are still a lot of fun to watch. But it’s got to be authentic. If the story demands gore, if it needs violence to be the best version of itself, then it should be gory and violent. If a movie is conceived as one thing and then hacked into something else, that’s when it becomes a problem. Two Heads Creek needs that level of outrageous shock value because it’s putting a spotlight on some issues that demand attention. Namely, the rise of nationalism in our country, and the way we treat immigrants; I have no desire to preach to people about changing their views, but I do think the best way to have a heavy conversation is to grab people’s attention and make them laugh.
CP: The outsider’s view of Australia often makes for fascinating cinema, for example Ted Kotcheff’s Wake In Fright. How did you approach the small-town behaviour, in terms of capturing something authentic, as opposed to something that formed a parody?
J: I wasn’t interested in doing another film about outback larrikins. So I had to look for what my point of view would be. It wasn’t only the British character’s perspective of us, but it was also the realisation that I could play up the cartoonishness of Australian culture - specifically the more toxic side to it - and point out just how laughable we can be. I never saw it as a parody, but a caricature. Kind of like one of those tea towels you find in rural highway gift shops. A lewd, rude, comical side of Australia that’s funny because it’s true.
CP: What are your top three cannibal movies?
J: To be honest I don’t have three favourite cannibal movies. It’s not a sub-genre I seek out, and while I did my research, it was always zombie films I came back to. Two Heads Creek is a unique take on cannibalism; there aren’t any tribal elements, there isn’t a torturous cruelty to it, it’s more just oddball societal quirks which you don’t see in cannibal films. When it came to the gore gags, it was much easier and more fun to look at zombie films, as they tend to be more playful and absurd.
CP: You’ve made a sf feature and now a horror-comedy. What next? Would you consider making a straight horror movie?
J: I usually write my own films, and I’m pushing three of them at the moment, all in different genres but each leaning towards the world-building and mythology that I get excited by. I have a straight gothic horror film Holy Water that might be my next film. It’s a dark and tense film set during the Scottish witch trials in the 17th century. And while there isn’t a laugh in sight, it still has a balance, this time between darkness and beauty. Then there’s a creature feature adventure film, which we liken to Lord of the Flies with monsters. That’s called Inherit the Earth, and we’re pushing both films pretty hard. To get back on set and see these films get bigger and better each time would be an absolute dream come true.
CP: Sounds great. Thank you Jesse, best of luck!