Getting Off the Black

Ray (Nick Nolte) is a lonely, hard-drinking fiftysomething who works at a junkyard but lives for his moonlighting gig as a baseball umpire. He forms an unlikely friendship with a high school player, Dave (Trevor Morgan), whose mother has abandoned him and whose own father has descended into an inchoate depression. The pair forms an unlikely friendship in Athens, Ga.-born writer/director James Ponsoldt's charming feature-film debut, Off the Black — featured at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival. Though Ponsoldt attended Yale on a football scholarship and the prestigious Columbia University's graduate film school, his quirky, homegrown soundtrack featuring Athens band Hope for Agoldensummer and an element of mellow sincerity shows telltale signs of Ponsoldt's hip college-town upbringing and evidence of a below-the-radar breed of indie filmmaker making subtle, human stories.

I found the Nick Nolte character fascinating. Is his character based on anyone you know?

Nick's character (Ray Cook) isn't based on anyone specific. I'd say he's more an amalgam of numerous men that have figured prominently in my life: teachers, coaches, relatives, strangers I had rambling conversations with in airports, etc.

Like Sideways and Old Joy, an offbeat male friendship is at the heart of your film. What did you want to convey about the way men deal with each other in your film?

I'm fascinated with the way men, especially men of my father's generation, seem to have problems, sometimes to a crippling degree, speaking honestly about their emotions. I grew up with a lot of tough old dudes who could talk your ear off about the Braves, or Zell Miller, or soil acidity but didn't know how to express their fears, hopes, longings and secret desires. And that kind of emotional prison seems like hell to me.

Do you think you are part of a generation consciously thinking about what it means to be a man and trying to change it?

I can only speak for myself, but I think, as a society, we still have a lot of backwards ideas about masculinity, and femininity and how we're supposed to conform to [constantly shifting] social norms. A bit tangential, but I do feel that, as someone who was a teenager throughout the '90s, I grew up in an incredibly, almost caustically cynical and ironic decade. And I think that mentality is corrosive to your soul. I feel like there has been a backlash in music and film towards a sort of new sincerity, which I think is an act of bravery, aesthetic defiance. I mean, I can't think of anything tougher in this age than writing a simple, straightforward love poem. Most people wouldn't dare. They'd laugh at it. It's not meta enough for a lot of folks. But I applaud anyone that creates something honest, from the heart, and makes me feel something, anything. I remember the first time I heard Daniel Johnston sing I started chuckling, thought it was a gag. And then five minutes later I was weeping.

Have you been disappointed by your relationships with the men in your life?

I love everyone that's a part of my life: men and women. We're all so damn fragile and confused, and everyone just wants to make a few connections in their life. Yeah, I've had people in my life that weren't always there for me, or perhaps weren't capable of giving me what I needed. But we're only human. People are all flawed but beautiful. There's not enough time to hold grudges.

You studied English at Yale on a football scholarship and received an MFA from Columbia's prestigious film program. How has that diverse education in English and film informed the kind of film work you do?

I think I learned more going to public schools in Athens, to be honest. But it all informs my point of view. I guess I've just been incredibly lucky to find myself in the company of some radically diverse people that grew up in every corner of the world, even though I spent the first 18 years of my life in North Georgia. But people are all the same, wherever you are. I'm obsessed with human behavior. Silence seems to terrify a lot of people. It took me a couple decades to realize that people are most beautiful when they're absolutely silent. And when people are quiet, it doesn't matter what language they speak.

Who were your fellow students in the film program at Columbia? Anyone working in film right now?

Well, I only graduated from Columbia in 2005. So a lot of my peers are just starting to make a name for themselves. But over a dozen of my former classmates have films [shorts and features] playing at Sundance this year. Ten percent of the short films at Sundance this year are Columbia thesis films, which is startling. Columbia's grad film program is incredibly diverse, so my classmates are making their films all over the globe, in their native countries [like Thailand, India, Romania, Brazil, Ireland and Palestine]. Two of the Mexican features at Sundance: Padre Nuestro and La Misma Luna [which was just bought by Fox Searchlight] are made by former classmates of mine.

The teachers at Columbia are an incredible group, and include folks like James Schamus, Mira Nair, Rose Troche, Tom Kalin, Eric Mendelsohn, Kelly Reichardt and William Goldman.

You were initially scared of Nick Nolte, I read. Can you talk about how meeting him changed your perception?

Nick is one of the most open, sensitive, gentle and generous people I've ever met. He's made some mistakes like everyone. It's just that if you're Nick Nolte and you mess up, your photo winds up all over the Internet. But Nick's flaws only make him more human, more empathetic and, ultimately, more endearing. Nick's one of the only people I've ever met that truly doesn't pass judgment on anyone, and that is part of what makes him remarkable as an actor, and capable of playing tough, potentially unlikable characters: He forgives them for all their misdeeds.

What do you think drew Nick Nolte to the script? Do you think there were things in his own relationships with the men in his life that influenced his decision to be in the film?

Sure. He has a teenage son the same age as the kid in the script. Nick's also dealt firsthand with divorce and loss and death. I think the script hit a raw nerve. I don't believe in judging characters, even if their behavior can be ugly. In fact, I think the truth is generally a little bit ugly. Certainly not airbrushed. Nick feels the same way.

You have a very notable cast and crew in a relatively little film: a group of editors and producers who worked on some really notable indie films like Gummo and Personal Velocity. Your film seems like a classic indie in an age when the indie has become pretty bloated and Hollywood. Does the fact that your film made it into Sundance and found a distributor give you hope that true indie cinema is not dead?

I'm not even sure what indie means. Does it refer to the source of financing? The sensibility of the storyteller? I just like good, honest stories that make me feel something. I could care less who made it if it has something to say and a beating heart. Unfortunately, most films feel incredibly insincere to me, like they're pandering, aiming to be a big hit. And they seem to think the audiences are really stupid. That's too bad. We're all losing out.

Care to share your thoughts on what you see as the current state of independent film?

Well, everybody can shoot something on DV and get it up on YouTube. That's inspiring. I love YouTube. It's the most democratic thing to happen to entertainment in a long time. I mean, most things up there aren't very good, but occasionally you find gems, or pure insanity — look for the interview of Richard Pryor on cocaine, or old Os Mutantes concerts, or the Cramps playing shows in a mental institution. Also, with Netflix, you can see most anything, from anywhere in the world, and that's incredible. It's just as easy to order a film made by Apichatpong Weerasethakul as it is to order The 40-Year-Old Virgin.

On the other hand, most independent films that make it to theaters across the country are being distributed by subsidiaries of major studios, which are owned by multinational corporations, and the advertising budgets are massive, and the actual films are practically indistinguishable from studio films. That sucks. But, you know, everything goes in cycles. Great films are always being made. You just have to be hungry to seek out something like Flannel Pajamas or Old Joy or Half Nelson or wonderful films made in other languages.

You shot the film in less than a month and independently financed it. Where did you get the money and what was the budget?

We made it in close to 20 days, the money came completely from an independent financier, the film was produced by an independent production company [Forensic Films], and we're being released by a completely independent distributor [THINKFilm]. I wrote and directed it with no studio notes. So, from top to bottom, this was an independent movie. Do I appreciate the creative control that allowed? Absolutely. Do I wish I had more shooting days, longer for post-production and a much larger advertising budget? Without question.

It's easy to see in interviews that you have a pretty good knowledge of world cinema. Was that something you picked up at film school or is it more self-taught?

I was lucky to grow up with parents who liked all kinds of films, especially a lot of old comedies (Marx Brothers, Harold Lloyd, Chaplin, Keaton, Tati), Hollywood golden-age films, cool '70s outsider films, and a ton of foreign films. When I went to college and film school I watched even more. But I've never really distinguished; I either like a film or I don't. And human experience is universal. The truth is, not many people make honest films that depict rural America (great exceptions include Terrence Malick, Victor Nuñez, John Sayles, Charles Burnett and David Gordon Green).

So, I think a movie that takes place in rural Iran or China may very well have more in common with a rural American experience than a film made in Los Angeles or New York City [or, more likely, Toronto faking for New York]. Making an emotional connection with a film has nothing to do with the language the actors are speaking.

You've said "Athens is the only place that feels like home." How did growing up in Athens inform your worldview, do you think?

Well, it's the best small city in America. Growing up in a college town is an incredible luxury. It's laid-back. There's constantly cultural events going on, and I go to concerts two or three nights a week, so growing up in Athens was heaven. I wrote for publications starting when I was 15, reviewing shows, CDs, interviewing bands, etc. But I also appreciate that my high school was racially diverse and that I grew up in an area with a lot of natural beauty. My house was in the woods with a creek behind it. Can you beat that?

What is next?

Right now, I'm spending eight hours a day adapting an amazing short story that was originally in The Paris Review, won a Pushcart Prize and is included in Best American Short Stories 2006.

It's a gorgeous, poetic, magical and incredibly angry story. It broke my heart the first time I read it, made me have to sit down and cry in the middle of a crowded book store. I hope to direct the film version in the next year.

Can you tell me about the group you started at Yale: Porn 'n' Chicken?

In college, myself and a few male and female friends wanted to do a prank that made fun of the Ivory Tower elitism that's commonly associated with Yale. So we created a fake secret society mocking Skull and Bones and other societies at Yale. Except, instead of world domination, Porn 'n' Chicken was devoted to drinking cheap beer, eating fried chicken, and, naturally, watching bad porn and then discussing it in an incredibly dry, academic manner [like Ivy League dorks, to be exact]. A ton of students came to the meetings. We invited porn stars to come and discuss their craft. It was a college prank. Except it got really big, articles were written about it in the New York Times, Premiere and Time magazine, I wrote a treatment, got CAA to rep it, pitched it as a real-life Election, and the week before graduation, we sold the story to Tribeca Films [Robert DeNiro's production company] and Comedy Central. They made a TV movie (hiring someone else to write the script and direct). With that money I was able to pay for grad school. A silly college prank that worked out pretty well.

What have you seen this year in film that you like?

Black Sun, Old Joy, Iraq in Fragments, Drawing Restraint 9, Talladega Nights, Sweet Land, Pan's Labyrinth, Road to Guantanamo, The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, L'Enfant, Jesus Camp, Volver, 4, The Guatemalan Handshake, Mutual Appreciation, Borat, Children of Men, Half Nelson, Three Times, Army of Shadows, 13 Tzameti, Inland Empire, A Cock and Bull Story, The Lives of Others, United 93, Battala En El Cielo and some great short films, like "Aluminum Fowl," "Bomb," "Salt Kiss," "Bitch" and "Pop Foul."