Marya Murphy

So I’m thinking about Lars von Trier’s The Kingdom and wondering if I’ll ever get a chance to ask him what would have happened in the third and final season. Do scripts exist somewhere? Could you send them to me, Lars? I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just read them to myself in secret, playing all the roles in my head. Or, if you prefer, Lars, I could produce that final season. In Danish, even, (with the occasional Swede). I’m sure I could find enough Danish actors in San Jose to round out the cast. We managed to find enough Russians for Babnik, after all. And now that I’m adept at the art of sub-titillation, I could knock it out pretty quickly, I’m sure. I could upload them to Youtube, like a good Lars von Trier fangirl. I’ll play the role of Lars for the postscripts.

This leads me to google “Lars von Trier fanzine,” and I find this. An interview with Caveh Zahedi. I know Caveh. I’ve shot hours and hours of footage of Caveh talking. I’ve even impersonated him on camera for a movie my husband was/is making called The Caveh Experiment. Caveh, in the interview, says the filmmaker he relates to most is Lars von Trier. And Caveh, in the interview, quotes René Girard, my former professor, on whom my college roommate and I had a considerable crush, and in whose French-accented voice we would often whisper to each other, “Weel you bee my girlfriend?” Caveh tells us, “René Girard says that the true repression in our society is not sex, which everyone seems to be talking about these days, but envy. Envy rather than lust, according to Girard, is the emotion that drives most of our behavior.”

Which brings me to Eleanor Coppola. I’ve been reading (sporadically, because I have two very small children and the attention span of a fruit fly) her Notes on a Life, a memoir of her life in a filmmaking family. The parallels to my life are strong: an artist herself, she met Francis on the set of Dementia 13, married him and assumed they would continue making movies together on a small scale. He catapulted himself to fame and glory while she raised babies and fit in what art she could when and where she could. Her envy is palpable throughout the book. I want to knock on her door and tell her, “Yes! Yes! Exactly! I know!” Thank you, Eleanor. You’re braver than I.

My husband Alejandro and I started making movies several years ago. No-budget experiments, narrative and documentary. I directed a 40-minute movie with the unwieldy title Hegemony while I was pregnant with my daughter in April of 2005 (she was born that May). After she was born, we began shooting the movie about Caveh, but I was much less involved. My interest in things artistic was eclipsed by my daughter: my world, my treasure, my everything. We spent a blissful year being new parents, and filmmaking drifted from passionate vocation to neglected hobby. Then we got pregnant again. Alejandro knew I’d be incapacitated for a few months (when pregnant I’m either sleeping or vomiting for the first six months), and so while I was passively creating a human being he threw himself into his narrative feature directorial debut, Around the Bay.

During the rare lucid moments of my nauseated stupor, I was insanely envious. I felt totally shut out of the creative thing we’d begun together. And, of course, guilty for feeling that way. And my envy increased as I watched the footage. Brilliant stuff, and in a completely different league from anything we’d done before. I wrangled my way back in during postproduction, fighting over editing decisions, making alternate cuts, fine-tuning scenes. But it was Alejandro’s film. And when it was accepted to Cinequest and critics started lauding it, my pride was always slightly tempered by envy. He did it without me. And, worse, I couldn’t have done what he did. All of the reasons I fell in love with this man–his intensity, his brilliance, his intuitiveness, his creativity, his drive, his passion, his humor–were evinced in this movie. And I was too small to give myself over completely to pride and happiness for him. What about me? Why is no one interviewing me?? I’ve been practicing my entire life for this. I’ve had imaginary interviews for decades. I’ve accepted thousands of awards, been on hundreds of talk shows. I’m ready! I’m just lacking… the talent and the drive to actually accomplish anything great. I’m busy being a good mommy, a good provider, a supportive wife. And I want and need to be those things. And they’re so much safer than art. Besides, there are all those episodes of Battlestar Galactica to get through.

I was much more involved in the production of Alejandro’s second feature, Canary. (Premiering at Cinequest in February 2009!) Fleshing out the dystopian universe, playing a small role and conceiving the scene I was in, making props and costumes, shooting a few scenes, editing. But once again, it’s Alejandro’s film. The third, Babnik, I helped write, shot a few scenes, and am editing and subtitling with him. I’m a helper verb. I’m not sure I have what it takes to direct anymore. My attention and energies are too split. I would be a selfish, bad mother if I tried to direct a movie right now. Or maybe I’m just afraid. I don’t want to be an unsung hero. I want to be the star. Lars wouldn’t let a couple of babies stop him from making a movie. Nor would Francis. (Caveh just became a father, so it remains to be seen.)

But I also honestly feel like being a mommy is the only thing I was REALLY meant to do. The thing I’m best at. The thing that comes most naturally. The thing I should have started 15 years ago.

Now I just have to brace myself for the day my daughter wins an Oscar. Oh, Eleanor.