Extensa entrevista de Wired a "J.J. Baby":
J.J. Abrams, Star Wars Superfan, on Directing The Force Awakens
Step through the sleek, anonymous metal door of J.J. Abrams’ Bad Robot Productions and you enter a world of memorabilia—the murderous Talky Tina doll from The
Twilight Zone, rows of old VHS tapes labeled “Midnight Movies,” a
Six Million Dollar Man board game, assorted Godzillas. But if you look closely (we looked closely) you will see a meticulousness to the madness: The props and tchotchkes are all dust-free and carefully arranged. Those vintage 1970s
Star Trek action figures aren’t just sitting there. They’re
posed. This stuff is well loved. It’s clear that in addition to being one of the most gifted movie directors in the world, somehow the heir apparent to both Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, Abrams is also a superfan.
That puts him in a precarious situation. He has inherited the one megafranchise to rule them all. Sure, this won’t be the first time Abrams resurrects a beloved Enterprise. But … this is
the saga. It’s one of the things that invented modern superfandom. And this is no reboot. With
The Force Awakens, Abrams is marshaling the same actors, writers, designers, and even the same composer to reanimate the characters and themes that made the original
Star Wars into, well,
Star Wars. He loves those movies as much as you or any of your laser-brained friends do. But when he first met those movies he was just an apprentice. Now he must become the master.
No pressure, right? After all, the stakes are merely the future of the franchise that made Abrams a filmmaker; a mythology held precious by millions of people for four decades; and, oh, right, billions and billions of dollars in movies and merch over the next half century (at least). I sat down with Abrams to ask him about balancing these competing (ahem) forces to tell an epic story from a long time ago and a galaxy far, far away. The lightsabers are drawn; the coordinates for the jump to hyperspace are calculated. Can Abrams do it? Well, you know what Yoda said about merely trying.
wired: How are you feeling? It seems like only yesterday you were announced as the director of Episode VII.
j.j. Abrams: Good! It’s a crazy thing, right? I can’t wait for people to see the movie. We’ve been baking this cake for a long time, and now it’s time to serve it.
How much of The Force Awakens is geared toward welcoming people back to the Star Wars franchise versus starting something completely new? How do you strike a balance between those two imperatives?
We wanted to tell a story that had its own self-contained beginning, middle, and end but at the same time, like
A New Hope, implied a history that preceded it and also hinted at a future to follow. When
Star Wars first came out, it was a film that both allowed the audience to understand a new story but also to infer all sorts of exciting things that might be. In that first movie, Luke wasn’t necessarily the son of Vader, he wasn’t necessarily the brother of Leia, but it was all possible.
The Force Awakens has this incredible advantage, not just of a passionate fan base but also of a backstory that is familiar to a lot of people. We’ve been able to use what came before in a very organic way, because we didn’t have to reboot anything. We didn’t have to come up with a backstory that would make sense; it’s all there. But these new characters, which
Force is very much about, find themselves in new situations—so even if you don’t know anything about
Star Wars, you’re right there with them. If you are a fan of
Star Wars, what they experience will have added meaning.
You mapped out the story with Lawrence Kasdan, who cowrote The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. He said recently that his own life experiences—and the span of time not working on Star Wars—readied him to work on this film. Were there moments from your life or your own work from which you drew inspiration?
Working with Larry definitely ties for first in terms of incredible experiences I’ve had with this project. We all take our experiences with us from one project to the next, but in this case, I never looked to draw from my past work. More than anything, I drew on personal experiences as cautionary tales, things that I didn’t want to do again. For example, I didn’t want to enter into making a movie where we didn’t really own our story. I feel like I’ve done that a couple of times in my career. That’s not to say I’m not proud of my work, but the fact is I remember starting to shoot
Super 8 and
Star Trek Into Darkness and feeling like I hadn’t really solved some fundamental story problems.
The collaboration, for me, was an education in storytelling and doing so with clarity, with efficiency, brevity—wit. It was a little like taking an extended master class. And because he’s also a director, he knew what I was going through in prep and in production, and he allowed for my needs. Sometimes those needs were practical, other times they were creative needs or feelings I had. But he was there to help that process, the same way I would have been if I had known he was directing. It was always about moving this thing forward in the right way, about making this movie the right way. I can’t say enough about him.
So I tried to not forget the mistakes I’d made, but I also tried to focus on things that I find inspiring about cinema. I asked questions like “How do we make this movie delightful?” That was really the only requirement Larry and I imposed on each other: The movie needed to be delightful. It was not about explaining everything away, not about introducing a certain number of toys for a corporation, not about trying to appease anyone. This has only ever been about what gets
us excited.
Well, it comes through in the trailers. I remember waking up on Black Friday last year, my wife shoving her iPhone in my sleeping face. I heard the music and shot awake—I felt that excitement.
That’s great. What I’m excited about is that the movie itself feels like those teasers and not like the movie is one thing and the teasers are something else.
One thing I know about you is that you love a mystery. You love to surprise an audience. How have you felt about those teasers—about revealing parts of the movie, necessarily talking about and marketing it, versus allowing the story to unfold on your terms?
I give credit to, and frankly surprisingly so, the incredible people at Disney, especially Alan Horn [chair of Walt Disney Studios] and Bob Iger [Disney CEO]. Bob’s been unbelievably collaborative and supportive of this entire process. When it came to marketing, I was expecting Disney to want to put out an overabundance of material. But they’ve been incredibly reluctant to do that. They want this thing to be an experience for people when they go to see the film. And I’m grateful for that.
There’s a really positive side to keeping quiet. You can protect the audience from spoilers or certain moments that, in a way, obviate the movie experience. But on the other hand, you risk being seen as coy or as a withholding shithead. That’s never my intent. Because Lucasfilm has been so engaged with the fans and so forthcoming about what they’re doing, it would have felt oddly inconsistent to not show anything until just before the movie came out. I actually personally pushed to have a teaser come out a year before, just because it felt like, as a fan of
Star Wars, if I could see even the littlest thing I’d be psyched a year out. Why not? So we did.
But I don’t want to destroy too many illusions. We’re walking a tightrope. If you fall on one side it’s no good, because we’re showing too much. If you fall on the other side it’s no good, because we’re not showing anything and we look like arrogant jerks.
Is it gut? Where’s the balance?
You just have to kind of ask yourself at every turn, at every convention, at every opportunity, every promotion, “What feels right?” Of course, with this movie there are more licensing and merchandising balls to juggle than I’ve ever experienced. There are so many things, each one a little bit of a window into the story. It’s not just about what piece you put out for a talk show. This is also about: Well, what does that character say as a toy in that particular line of action figures, as opposed to
that one? We want to preserve some of the rarefied air of the actual experience and not open all the windows so it all just gets depleted.
You can see how the universe gets so big so quickly, first toys and games and then Episode VIII and IX, with directors Rian Johnson and Colin Trevorrow coming aboard. I know VIII is Rian’s movie, but you’ve no doubt created story questions in Episode VII that have to be addressed. Do you know how the answers play out? Or are those moments still unspooling?
The script for
VIII is written. I’m sure rewrites are going to be endless, like they always are. But what Larry and I did was set up certain key relationships, certain key questions, conflicts. And we knew where certain things were going. We had meetings with Rian and Ram Bergman, the producer of
VIII. They were watching dailies when we were shooting our movie. We wanted them to be part of the process, to make the transition to their film as seamless as possible. I showed Rian an early cut of the movie, because I knew he was doing his rewrite and prepping. And as executive producer of
VIII, I need that movie to be really good. Withholding serves no one and certainly not the fans. So we’ve been as transparent as possible.
Rian has asked for a couple of things here and there that he needs for his story. He is an incredibly accomplished filmmaker and an incredibly strong writer. So the story he told took what we were doing and went in the direction that he felt was best but that is very much in line with what we were thinking as well. But you’re right—that will be his movie; he’s going to do it in the way he sees fit. He’s neither asking for nor does he need me to oversee the process.
When you look back at the original trilogy, are there certain scenes that stand out to you?
It would be a much shorter conversation to talk about the scenes that didn’t stand out. As a fan of
Star Wars, I can look at those movies and both respect and love what they’ve done. But working on
The Force Awakens, we’ve had to consider them in a slightly different context. For example, it’s very easy to love “I am your father.” But when you think about how and when and where that came, I’m not sure that even
Star Wars itself could have supported that story point had it existed in the first film,
Episode IV. Meaning: It was a massively powerful, instantly classic moment in movie history, but it was only possible because it stood on the shoulders of the film that came before it. There had been a couple of years to allow the idea of Darth Vader to sink in, to let him emerge as one of the greatest movie villains ever. Time built up everyone’s expectations about the impending conflict between Luke and Vader. If “I am your father” had been in the first film, I don’t know if it would have had the resonance. I actually don’t know if it would have worked.
We are making the first in a new trilogy of movies, and it’s not very often that you get to work on something where you know there’s a continuum, where you know it’s basically part seven of nine—at least. That’s a very interesting way to approach a story, and it’s kind of great. It unburdens you. That’s one of the gifts the original
Star Wars gives so generously: When you watch the film the first time, you don’t know
exactly what the Empire is trying to do. You know they want to control by fear and you know they want to take over, but you don’t really know all their plans. You don’t really understand what it would be like for Luke to become a Jedi, let alone who his father was. You don’t really know what the Clone Wars were, or what the Republic was really about or what it looked like. All of those massive story elements are merely brushstrokes in
A New Hope. In 1977, none of those things were clear to anyone and maybe not even entirely to George Lucas.
I cannot say enough about what George was able to do with that first movie, let alone the next ones. Forget how incredible it looked, forget the technology, forget the humor of it, the heart, the romance, the adventure—all the amazing moments that made us love it. Think about what he was able to stir up, the questions he was able to ask—exactly the
right questions—the idea that he was able to create a world that clearly went so far beyond the boundaries of what we were seeing and hearing. This, to me, is one of the greatest things about
Star Wars. Working on this new movie has been as much about trying to set up elements of what is beyond what you’re seeing as it has been about telling a story that will be satisfying in and of itself. But it can’t feel like a cop-out—like we’re just setting things up and not resolving them.
But with a universe that vast, you have to think about constraint, right? You clearly have enjoyed a healthy budget and have had a big world to go invent. Were there particular limitations you wanted to put on either the process or the story, something that would help you focus on those goals?
I find that I am most happy when I have boundaries. With
Lost, when ABC chairman Lloyd Braun called to say he wanted me to come up with a show about people who survive a plane crash, I remember thinking, “Well, I will come up with
that,” and I did—very, very quickly. What was great was he had given me a very specific assignment. So when I called him back and told him my thoughts, they were far weirder than what he would have ever expected. He was basically thinking about doing a kind of castaway show. But the constraint he imposed allowed the weirdness to kind of feel like fertile ground. Weirdness within limits, you know? If it had been
un-limited—if he had called and said, come up with a weird show—I would have thought, I don’t know! What does that even mean?
Star Wars is so boundless in terms of the world, the characters, the conflicts. When we began working on this film, Larry and I started by making a list of things that we knew held interest for us, the things we wanted to see, the things we felt were important. There’s a very real issue with doing this movie: Every detail, whether it was the design of a costume or the music or a set-dressing choice, must be embraced as coming from
Star Wars. You’re inheriting
Star Wars! That’s not something you can do lightly. You have to really understand the design choices, because everything is important. At the same time, it’s just
Star Wars, meaning: It doesn’t make it automatically interesting just because it’s in that galaxy.
For example, when we were on-set and we were shooting a scene, it was always amazing to me to see Harrison Ford dressed as Han Solo. Or, wow, there’s a guy—a stormtrooper!—and he looks exactly like a stormtrooper. Remember the feeling of the villain stepping off his ship? Or the sound of the TIE fighters when they roar past you? We’ve all seen TIE fighters roar past us now for nearly 40 years; what makes that interesting? The point is, these scenes aren’t good just because those characters or things are there, even though it’s the greatest eye candy in the history of time.
We really tried to look at it from the inside out. What makes this story have a beating heart? What makes it romantic or fun or surprising or heartbreaking or hysterically funny? We simply approached this narrative from the point of view that this is a story about a young man and a young woman, not with the idea that we can do anything we want.
I loved the anecdote in The New Yorker’s Jony Ive profile about you two brainstorming the design of Kylo’s “spitty” lightsaber. Little details like that—or Threepio’s red arm or the Falcon’s now-rectangular dish—drive us fans crazy wanting to know what’s happened between Jedi and Force. How did you work with the design team; how did you go about tackling the production design?
It all started at the very beginning, when we were working with Michael Arndt, the first writer on the project. While Michael and I were collaborating, I invited our production designer, Rick Carter, into the story process. Just as it would be impossible to separate John Williams’ score from the
Star Wars movies, it was impossible to separate what Ralph McQuarrie and his design team had done from
A New Hope. My sense was that the sooner Rick could be part of the process, the better. He’s an incredible dreamer; his mind will go amazing places and dream up things you never would have imagined.
Very quickly, it became an incredible advantage to have Rick dealing with the designers and artists, prepping the conceptual work based on our story meetings. Almost immediately, designs would start to roll in that gave shape to the ideas we were working on. Moments like Threepio’s arm came from the desire to, well, mark time.
It’s almost like …
Unknown events have transpired …
Exactly. You know the moment when you reconnect with someone after years apart? You see the lines on their face, you think, oh, they’ve lived 10 years! Or when you see someone has a scar they didn’t have—physical or emotional—you recognize it. It lets you know it’s not two minutes later. It was important that Han Solo be Han Solo but not feel like he’s playing a 30-year-old dude. When you’re 70, you will have lived a different set of experiences. That has to be apparent in who he is. Harrison was required to bring a level of complexity that a 30-year-old Han wouldn’t be required to have.
Then there were things like the radar dish on the
Falcon, which clearly was
ripped off in Jedi, so it needed a new one. But part of the decision was made as a fan. There’s a part of me that wants to know: That’s the
Falcon from this era. Now I know that when I see the
Falcon with the rectangular dish, we’re at a moment after it traded hands. It also helped us mark time.
So: John Williams!
Oh my God! First of all, forget his talent and his achievement. As a person, he’s the guy you want to know more than anyone. He is the sweetest soul I’ve ever met. He’s like this jazzman who became one of the greatest composers of all time. He literally calls you “baby”! Like, “Hey, baby.” He calls me “J.J. Baby.” I waited all my life to meet someone who would call me that!
He works in pencil. You go to his home and listen to him play notes on the piano, and while you’re listening, you extrapolate what it will be like when you hear the melody with an orchestra. It is unforgettable, a truly miraculous thing to behold. He has every one of his scores leather-bound. I was like, “Do you mind if I …?” He goes, “No, go ahead!” So I pulled out the
Jaws score, and sure enough, there it is, in pencil on paper:
baaaa-bum, baaaa-bum. You’re like, “Well, that’s what he wrote!” It’s as if you’re hanging out with Mozart, who happened to score your favorite movies.
I know everybody knows this, but when you actually think about what he’s composed, it is as important as any work ever done on any of those movies. When you think about
Superman and
Raiders and
Jaws and
Close Encounters—which came out the same year as
Star Wars—and then the
Harry Potter movies? He is just superhuman. It’s unbelievable that he is as brilliant and yet as modest as he is. It’s just an amazing thing to get to know that guy.
A lot of this cast wasn’t even born in 1977. How do you relay the legacy of what Star Wars means to people like you and me? Or is that a burden that you try to avoid?
It’s a really strange thing, when you think about being born into a world where it just
exists. Despite their having been born horrifically recently, these kids knew about and understood
Star Wars in a way we all do; they just were born into it as opposed to it happening during their lifetime. The key in casting them was finding people who were able to do everything. When you think about all that these characters go through, not just in this movie but knowing their work would continue, these individuals needed to be worthy bearers of this burden and opportunity to continue to tell the story. I think about the
Harry Potter movies—that’s unbelievable that they cast those films the way they did. And for what, eight movies?! That was a miracle. They needed to be able to do everything, and they all killed it.
We knew we weren’t just casting one movie—we were casting at least three. That, to me, was the biggest challenge. When we met Daisy Ridley, when we found John Boyega, and then Oscar Isaac and Adam Driver came aboard, we got really excited. And yes, Daisy and John could work together, but what happens when Harrison’s in the mix? What will that feel like? If it doesn’t spark, it’s a fucking disaster. Yes, BB-8 is a great character, amazingly puppeteered, but what will happen when he’s suddenly in a scene with C-3P0 or R2-D2? Will it feel bizarre? Will it feel wrong? Somehow it didn’t. When Anthony Daniels told me, “Oh my God, I love BB-8!” I said, “We’re going to be OK.” Because if he’s OK, it’s working.
C-3P0 approves.
Or seeing the sweetness between Han and Rey or the tension and comedy between Han and Finn. It was really exciting to say, “These scenes are working!” We worked really hard to cast and to write and to put it all together, but you just don’t know until you start shooting. Then all of a sudden, you’re on-set watching it and you
know. It’s a little bit like having a party and having friends from your new school meet friends from your old school, and you think, “What’s going to happen?” And all of a sudden they’re getting along famously and this party’s really fun! It was a lot of work, but it ended up being great.
So what’s next? I know you were thinking up all-new, original ideas when Kathy Kennedy first called you for this job.
My mom used to do this thing where we’d be eating lunch and she’d say, “So what do you want for dinner?” And I’d say, “Mom! We’re eating lunch. We’re literally just starting to eat lunch.” I feel like I just need to finish my lunch. Right now, I just want to get this film into the world.