-Who is Christopher Coppola?
I am asked this question a lot. Most people want me to just say I am the nephew of, brother of, cousin of. No need, the people asking me this question will do that for me anyway, whether I like it or not. The best way for me to answer this question is to imagine me standing in front of the Great Wizard of Oz, hearing the booming voice of the almighty Wizard asking me “WHO ARE YOU?” and I calmly respond, “who are you?” I became a composer and filmmaker to distract myself from an incredibly dark and painful childhood. My early student work was very original, poetic, and philosophical. Then, I did something that truly wasn’t me. I tried my hand at “Hollywood.” I made the film “Deadfall” with big-name actors which ended up destroying my “Hollywood” career. I was called the “the Ed Wood (I like Ed Wood) of the Coppola family” and other creative names like “The Coppola who made Dreadfall.” I thought that was a cute one: “Dreadfall” instead of “Deadfall.” It was a blessing in disguise in the end though. After Deadfall I raised money through my own film company Plaster City Production/Post-Production with zero famous family help and made 13 more films with my own mixed genre, “Sacred and Profane, funny but serious” signature films. I was labelled “The Rebel/Pirate of the Coppola family.” That suited me just fine. Later, I also became a film teacher. I traveled the world using my 33 years of filmmaking experience to show underserved non-filmmakers how to use cinema syntax so they can share their stories with the rest of the world in a visually articulate manner. This way more people will understand their movies even without dialogue. For me, there are far better silent movies than talkies made in terms of percentage. I remember a young boy in Punto Gorda, Belize came up to me when I was doing one of my Christopher Coppola: Think It, Shoot It, Share It workshops. He wanted to participate but didn’t think he could. I asked him why not. He said he wasn’t a filmmaker but would like to be. I said who says you’re not a filmmaker. Do you dream, do you remember moments in your life, do you see people and things you love or hate? He said yes. I said then that’s where you begin as a storyteller, never mind filmmaking. That is only a medium. I gave him the theme “What is Beauty?” with an assignment to make a one-minute film about what the theme “What is Beauty?” meant to him. The three rules were no-talking, no editing/all-in-camera and exactly one minute. I gave him a Flip pocket camera, showed how to use and told him to bring it back to me tomorrow morning at 9:00am sharp. When he came back to show me his film I was amazed. His one-minute film started with a medium shot that pushes in towards a beautiful leaf on the ground, then a little hand turns it over revealing a close-up of crushed beer can. I looked at him and thought this boy was better than most professional filmmakers I knew using visual symbols to share his thoughts. I asked him why this is beauty to him. He said he loved nature but also loved to play kick the can event though it was with ugly trash. That was the only soccer ball he had. He thanked me for letting him be a filmmaker. I thanked him for participating, truly blown away by his pure, innocent, humble filmmaking. He won the one-minute film contest having the online public votes, partly because it was a nice, steady moving shot but also because of the clarity of what he thought beauty was to him. The audience understood. I then became the Director of the film department and an Associate Professor of film at the San Francisco Art Institute rebel art school founded in 1871. I became more like a “Rebel Filmmaker with a Cause.” That answers the question “Who is Christopher Coppola?” the best.
-Do you remember the exact moment you fell in love with cinema?
I would say it was when I was a young boy in Long Beach, California. There was a children’s TV show called “Kukla, Fran, and Ollie.” A nice lady and her hand puppets would help you feel good about yourself, then they would introduce and screen a movie sometimes great films like “The Red Balloon” and “The Little Fugitive. Once, they showed the 1962 independent movie called “Tiko and the Shark.” I am going by memory because I was only ten and have never seen it again. It’s about an island boy, Tiko, who saves a baby tiger shark and feeds it until it gets stronger. When he let the shark go, it kept coming back to him. They had made an animal and human spiritual bond. I loved that a dangerous animal could love a boy and vice-versa. As the shark got bigger it often disappeared but the boy would tap the water at the shore and wait. Soon, his brother Shark would hear it and swim over to him. Tiko would tell his brother Shark about his day. He wanted to introduce him to his new girlfriend, Diana. The three of them swam together under the water. It was so beautiful. Two humans and a dangerous tiger shark swimming together under the sea as good friends. (I just discovered this was a real shark too, not like the obviously fake shark in Jaws much later). Other islanders were worried about the large sharks around the island. Kiko and Diana thought their shark would be killed. Tiko told his brother Shark he needed to be careful. He attached a white kite with twine to his friends’ tail, saying now they will know you are Tiko’s bother Shark. They watched their brother Shark swim away, the white kite soaring above him. This hooked me on film. Soon after with the help of my father I eagerly moved on to Fellini, Welles, Kurosawa, Dreyer, Ford, Huston, etc.
-Do you think the cinema can bring a change in the society?
Sincere cinema, from the heart to the heart cinema, honest cinema, with something to say, absolutely. Typical cotton candy Hollywood fair, though occasionally fun, no. It’s all about the dollar and the business.
-When did you realize that the story living in your heart had to be turned into a screenplay and then into a film project?
That’s a tough question because many of my student experimental music and film works still resonate with me today like my opera “Plato’s Cave” and my poetic philosophical film “Plato’s Cave.” They were deep in my mind and heart, and I wanted to share Plato’s philosophy my way. You had to think, participate and feel to understand. I was proud that I brought these ideas to life as romantic San Francisco bohemian. I don’t think I have made my personal “Opus One” film yet. Oddly, Deadfall was a film that stewed inside me as well, then became a screenplay, then a film. At first, it was called “Nothing’s Sacred.” Nick Vallelonga and I were close friends back then just trying to write something together that made sense for me to use all my famous contacts and to direct. Nick was a great writer, obviously still is, and I respected him. He also loved a screenplay I wrote for my Aunt Talia Shire called “Juliana Pastrana,” the true story about a woman who danced and sang but looked like a gorilla. The respect was mutual. Nick, close non-famous family, and many other close friends and collaborators, could see how intense it was for me to be part of a famous family, for better or worse, I had no choice to be part of the Coppola family because of family blood whether I wanted to be or not. I mean the name Coppola meant absolutely nothing to anybody when I was a boy but when the masterpiece The Godfather came out everything changed. I didn’t know who my real friends were anymore and who was just using me to get to my uncle, my brother, and my more famous cousins. Deadfall was a story that centered around how I felt being a Coppola in Hollywood. The period before writing Deadfall I was filled with self-doubt. Even had a nervous breakdown. I was already criticized for the film I made for Dino DeLaurentis; the 2 million dollars budgeted “Dracula’s Widow.” I was 25 years old fresh out of art school. It was recently rediscovered and complimented on how I made a color noir film with my use of primary colors and stylized shots. “Dracula’s Widow” is a far better film than “Deadfall.” Partly because both films were made on a similar budget but one without big name stars and other with big-name stars who still had to be paid their large fees. Take note: never make a low-budget film with big-name stars. They will just use your film as a playground. Yet, the Deadfall film that was in my head was important to me. Cathartic to me. Nothing’s Sacred, trust no one including your own family. In an operatic way (I love tragic opera), it was a story of a son/nephew trying to understand the father/uncle complex. They were both big parts of my life both good and bad. In some ways, it became a blur. After consuming many Jim Thompson pulp novels, I told Nick we should use the noir grifter genre. We wrote it quickly and added homages like the cigar moment in “Papillion,” How did you know it wasn’t contagious I didn’t” moment. I love doing homages. Nick and I looked at a lot of great movies together. Nick and I are very knowledgeable about film history. Big-name actors became curious, including Val Kilmer. I was going to make my first Hollywood film with a real budget. But in the end, it didn’t have a budget after Val Kilmore walked and Deadfall became a no-budget “bargain basement” film trying to be a Hollywood film. It would have been far better with no famous actors being an ensemble. One very nice moment for me though was I received a message on my answering machine from Clint Eastwood. It was a few hours before “Deadfall’s” disastrous Hollywood premiere. Mr. Eastwood said he was sorry he couldn’t make it but wished me good luck. I am a huge Sergio Leone fan, especially his Spaghetti Western classics starring Eastwood, the man with no name. It was like a western film God leaving me a message. I am so thankful he didn’t come. What started in the mind, the distrust, and the sadness inside, became a good script but ended up a terrible film. “Deadfall” is now a successful cult flick mainly because of Nick Cage’s over-the-top crazy performance. The punk rock band “Snot” even wrote a song called “Deadfall.” I have many battle stories about all my films and how I finished them regardless of obstacles. My long-time film producer, respected writer on film genres Alain Silver and I are currently working on a book about cinema with baggage. “Deadfall” has a big chapter. It will be very entertaining.
-What would you change in the world?
Who am I to change anything? I can say I wish people would understand there’s room at the table for everyone if we treat each other with respect, compassion, and dignity. If not, everyone slips through the cracks regardless of who you are.
-Where do you see the film industry going in the next 100 years?
When film was an art form it’s early days, the silent era, they were experimenting with close-ups, moving shots, dissolves, color tinting, and visual magic tricks. The classic theater world laughed and said it would never take off. And it was a disgrace that theater actors and directors would even mess around with this creative inferior upstart, soon to be the most powerful, art medium in the world. Later, the same happened. When digital, new media, 360, volumetric, etc was being experimented film purists were angry. The concept of cinema is ever changing and if older filmmakers don’t change with it, we are not going to be able to share our stories with younger generations and be left behind. We need to evolve, we need to share our stories to our younger generations, so you can pass down your own stories and wisdom. Younger generations will decide where cinema is going, not us. We need to remember the video game business is far bigger than the film industry and music industry combined and makes a ton more money. That’s why so many Hollywood films are just teasers for the soon-to-be-released video games. I was the one who said film is dead 30 years ago when I as speaking at the Los Angeles HD Expo. Even though I was laughed at for suggesting there will be a new electronic cinema, I was obviously right. Where will cinema be in hundred years? Maybe they will be tactile, you can taste and smell, even live in and interact with characters, become one the characters, plugged-in cinema. In the end though, you still must have an honest, meaningful story and be able to tell it at the campfire, digital or not.