Why Hollywood's comedy king thinks Aussies appreciate him most
'Gateway to death.'
He laughs. 'No, I'm honoured, because I have spent my whole life working on this and hopefully I've got a few more years left.
'It'd be one thing if I wasn't working any more and couldn't get a job,' he continues. 'Then you'd be like, 'Oh boy, there's the booby prize'. But to me it's a great honour because I'm continuing to work and I'm doing stuff that I'm really proud of.'
Feig (it rhymes with Smeeg) has just finished shooting a new feature, The Housemaid, which should be out by Christmas. Another Simple Favour – the sequel to his beloved crime-thriller comedy A Simple Favour (2018) – dropped on Prime Video in May, having debuted at the original SXSW in Austin, Texas, in March. And according to pro.imdb.com he now has about 20 projects – including a sequel to the 2015 Melissa McCarthy movie Spy – in various stages of development.
At 62, the perennially dapper writer-director-producer has no intention of slowing down.
'I'm all about speed,' he says. 'My whole thing is I'm looking for runaway freight trains, because the things you develop for years are just caught in the muck and the mire, people overthink, it starts to sag, and people get tired of the stuff that was good, you know.'
Getting a project up and running quickly is vital to maintain the momentum, especially in comedy. 'I think energy is the biggest thing that makes a movie or a project great,' he says. 'Everybody goes into it with a head of steam. I'm not saying good things don't come out of being cautious and taking time. It's just for me, that's not a pace I like. I like, 'blam, here it is'.'
For the most part, that approach has served Feig well. Having started his career as a performer, he switched to the other side of the camera after his breakthrough role in Sabrina the Teenage Witch was cut after one season because, he was told, they didn't really know how to write for his character.
'It was this thing of, 'Wow, if you're an actor in this business, you're completely out of control'. They can fire you at any time. You are stuck in a contract for seven years unless they let you out of it. So it just cemented in my head that I want to do this.'
His first attempt, a self-funded feature he wrote, directed and starred in (alongside illusionist Penn Jillette, of Penn and Teller fame), wiped out his and his wife Lauren's savings and was never picked up for distribution.
'I was like, 'it could potentially be over right now',' he says of the film, Life Sold Separately, which has not been released to this day.
But rather than give up, he took inspiration from his friend Matt Reeves, who had just co-created the college drama Felicity with J.J. Abrams (Lost). 'I decided to write a pilot based on my high school.'
The show was Freaks and Geeks, and after Judd Apatow, a friend from stand-up days, agreed to come on board as producer, he was off at the races.
'Suddenly we got sold to NBC, we're making a pilot, we got picked up. It was just redemption at the highest possible level.'
The show only lasted a single season – and NBC initially screened only 12 of its 18 episodes before dumping the final six one Saturday night a year later – but it launched the careers of actors Linda Cardellini, James Franco, Seth Rogen and Jason Segel. And, obviously, of one Paul Feig.
Those 18 episodes will screen at SXSW in October in a marathon 14-hour session. 'Sadly, I'm not going to be there when they're doing it, that would have been kind of fun,' he says. 'But I don't know if I could even survive that. I can't sit that long.' Also screening are Bridesmaids and The Heat.
The first time I chatted with Feig was in 2011, when I met him, Kristen Wiig and Rose Byrne on a Melbourne rooftop to talk about Bridesmaids. At the time, the film was at the centre of a debate after some old hands (comedian Jerry Lewis, and journalist Christopher Hitchens among them) insisted women weren't funny.
Looking back, can you even believe that was a thing?
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'Well, I'd like to say we've moved on, but our current political situation here [in the US] is just such a disaster. Always when things feel like they're accelerating forward, there's some nefarious force to put the brakes on and pull it back.
'I always thought the conversation about 'are women funny?' to be ridiculous,' he adds, 'because all I do is work with funny and talented women. The evidence doesn't bear out any of that, so it all just feels like misogyny to me when people say it.'
Feig also found himself in the sights when his remake of Ghostbusters (2016), featuring an all-female team, was review-bombed on Rotten Tomatoes before anyone had even seen it. The attacks on African-American comedian Leslie Jones were especially vile.
'If you look at the timing, it was right during the rise of Trump,' he says. 'The manosphere, which I didn't realise existed, had an axe to grind, and we were the perfect moment for them.'
His response, he admits, was one of shock. 'I was such a novice to criticism on the internet at that point because, from Freaks and Geeks to Bridesmaids, The Office [he directed 15 episodes of the US version], all these things I'd been involved with were really popular, it was just nothing but goodwill out there for what I was doing. And so, when suddenly it turns, you're like, 'Wait, who are these evil-feeling forces that are coming at me with such anger and venom?' It kind of knocks you sideways.
'Now I'm immune to it,' he adds. 'But at the time, it brings up all the old bullying and things you went through as a kid. And you just realise, 'OK, I can be in my 50s and still be completely pulled back into the schoolyard'.'
Thankfully, that's all a long way behind him now. A lifetime, you might say.
Feig admits he is looking forward to receiving the award in person and to visiting a country that has always embraced his work again.
'I think Australians have a great sense of humour, and they kind of get what I go for,' he says. 'All my movies are comedies, even when they're thrillers or whatever. I mean, some are very hidden dark comedies, but they're still meant to entertain you.
'It's OK to laugh when things get extreme,' he says. 'And I just feel like Aussie audiences have always kind of gotten that.'
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Sydney Morning Herald
an hour ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
These daring artists shocked the world. A new show reveals why
When Annie Leibovitz shot a naked, heavily pregnant Demi Moore for the cover of Vanity Fair in 1991, it caused an uproar. Some retailers in the United States, including supermarket chains Giant and Safeway, refused to stock the magazine, while others wrapped it in brown paper. 'We are a family-oriented business,' huffed a spokesperson for Giant in the Washington Post at the time. 'Very young children go to the magazine section while waiting for their parents to finish shopping. We did what we thought was right.' Supporters, though, saw the image as a refreshingly empowering depiction of pregnancy; the magazine's sales and subscriptions rose in the aftermath. Remarkably, more than 50 years earlier, Australian photographer Max Dupain had taken a similarly provocative photograph in Sydney. His 1939 Birth of Venus features the silhouette of a naked pregnant woman flanked by two sculptures, all reminiscent of Botticelli's Venus. It's a stunning image, says Emmanuelle de l'Ecotais, co-curator of Man Ray and Max Dupain, a new show at Heide Museum of Modern Art that, for the first time, pairs the pioneering photographers who worked on opposite sides of the world. The show includes more than 200 photographs, many of which are vintage prints. They speak to each artist's willingness to reject tradition, convention and expectation, while celebrating beauty and the female body. De l'Ecotais says the pairing – the brainchild of Heide's artistic director Lesley Harding – is inspired. Twenty years older than Dupain, the American photographer shared a fascination for depicting beauty, the body and pleasure. 'There's something about beauty and the beauty of women, and the body, that is an ongoing thing for Man Ray,' she says. Dupain, she adds, shared this fascination; the exhibition 'is all about beauty and pleasure'. Both artists were also deliberately provocative, de l'Ecotais says. 'For me, it's really obvious that they are looking to push the limits all the time. Being controversial is really important.' Another Dupain image in the show – Nude 1934 – would have courted similar controversy to that of his pregnant subject, says Harding. 'She's a bride, but she's inverted, so she's a negative,' she says, adding that the photograph is mesmerising. 'The deliberate inversion of time and the way that he's doing what Man Ray liked to do, being disruptive, presenting a woman in a veil with no clothes on ...' Dupain, born in New South Wales in 1911, received his first camera at 13, and, like Man Ray, was swept up in the global movements that upended art in the early 20th century. Both adopted pioneering techniques that helped shift perceptions of photography away from mere documentary record and into the realm of art. De l'Ecotais has made a study of Man Ray's work since she was an intern specialising in photography at the Pompidou Centre in Paris. In 1994, when the gallery received the work that remained in Man Ray's studio after his death in 1976 – some 12,000 negatives and 5000 prints – she was given the task of cataloguing it. Her efforts became the basis for the landmark show Man Ray: Photography Inside Out in 1998. Born Emmanuel Radnitsky in Philadelphia in 1890, Man Ray moved to Paris in 1921 (his Jewish-Russian family changed their name to Ray in 1912 in response to antisemitism in the US). He arrived in Paris at a time when Surrealism and Dadaism were in full swing. His portraits include a who's who of the art world: Andre Breton, Gertrude Stein, Salvador Dali and Virginia Woolf. Marcel Duchamp, one of his closest friends, was an inspiration for Man Ray, who embraced 'an approach [that says] all methods and all mediums are interesting: the point is not the technique, it's what you want to say, what you want to express,' says de l'Ecotais. The same was true for Dupain, who is best known for Sunbaker, the iconic image of a swimmer fresh from the ocean, lying on the sand. Taken in 1937, it came to represent an idealised vision of the sun-bronzed Aussie, and remains Australia's most recognisable image. (Ironically, the subject is actually a Brit, Harold Salvage.) But Dupain's lesser-known early work is remarkable and pioneering, says Harding, co-curator of the current show. She says that, like Man Ray, Dupain played with technique and used innovations such as solarisation and superimposition, as well as cropping, framing and playing with angles and subject matter. 'The idea of them being contemporaries is probably not immediately apparent, but they were both at the peak of their powers in the 1930s,' says Harding. 'They both had this capacity to synthesise things, to take them back to their essential element ... [they saw] this enlightened or more inventive possibility.' Dupain's interest in Man Ray was already evident in 1935 when, aged just 24, he showed insight and maturity in his review of the book Man Ray Photographs 1920-1934 for The Home magazine. Embracing what he learnt about his Paris-based counterpart and other international photographers, the Sydneysider adapted some of their techniques and made them his own, as well as carving out his own approach. 'Man Ray appealed to me because he was radical,' Dupain later told his biographer, Helen Ennis. 'He didn't give a stuff for his contemporaries or his peers … he went ahead and did what he wanted to do.' Clearly, Dupain recognised a kindred spirit. Loading Both artists worked with women who were artists and photographers in their own right: Lee Miller worked with Man Ray in Paris and also became his lover, and Olive Cotton met Dupain at photography school and went on to work with him; the pair later married. Stunning images of and by both women are showcased in the exhibition in a section called 'Collaborators'. Another synergy was that the work of both men featured in fashion magazines, which was often how they made a living. Dupain's photographs, influenced by Hollywood and modernism, appeared in advertisements for David Jones and in several publications, particularly The Home. Man Ray worked for French Vogue from 1924, as well as for Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli, but started developing his reputation through images published in Harper's Bazaar. His photographs of Parisienne women were more about people than fashion, says de l'Ecotais. In the 1930s, his use of solarisation and superimposition made his name. 'It's only a few years of success but it's a big success,' she says. The pairing of their work celebrates not only the impact they had in their lifetimes, but also the legacy of their innovations. '[Both artists'] work feels incredibly fresh, it feels thoughtful and it has this energy about it,' says Harding. De l'Ecotais says the legacy of both artists is ongoing and very significant. 'When you look at these images, they are very modern and contemporary; they haven't aged at all.'
The Age
an hour ago
- The Age
These daring artists shocked the world. A new show reveals why
When Annie Leibovitz shot a naked, heavily pregnant Demi Moore for the cover of Vanity Fair in 1991, it caused an uproar. Some retailers in the United States, including supermarket chains Giant and Safeway, refused to stock the magazine, while others wrapped it in brown paper. 'We are a family-oriented business,' huffed a spokesperson for Giant in the Washington Post at the time. 'Very young children go to the magazine section while waiting for their parents to finish shopping. We did what we thought was right.' Supporters, though, saw the image as a refreshingly empowering depiction of pregnancy; the magazine's sales and subscriptions rose in the aftermath. Remarkably, more than 50 years earlier, Australian photographer Max Dupain had taken a similarly provocative photograph in Sydney. His 1939 Birth of Venus features the silhouette of a naked pregnant woman flanked by two sculptures, all reminiscent of Botticelli's Venus. It's a stunning image, says Emmanuelle de l'Ecotais, co-curator of Man Ray and Max Dupain, a new show at Heide Museum of Modern Art that, for the first time, pairs the pioneering photographers who worked on opposite sides of the world. The show includes more than 200 photographs, many of which are vintage prints. They speak to each artist's willingness to reject tradition, convention and expectation, while celebrating beauty and the female body. De l'Ecotais says the pairing – the brainchild of Heide's artistic director Lesley Harding – is inspired. Twenty years older than Dupain, the American photographer shared a fascination for depicting beauty, the body and pleasure. 'There's something about beauty and the beauty of women, and the body, that is an ongoing thing for Man Ray,' she says. Dupain, she adds, shared this fascination; the exhibition 'is all about beauty and pleasure'. Both artists were also deliberately provocative, de l'Ecotais says. 'For me, it's really obvious that they are looking to push the limits all the time. Being controversial is really important.' Another Dupain image in the show – Nude 1934 – would have courted similar controversy to that of his pregnant subject, says Harding. 'She's a bride, but she's inverted, so she's a negative,' she says, adding that the photograph is mesmerising. 'The deliberate inversion of time and the way that he's doing what Man Ray liked to do, being disruptive, presenting a woman in a veil with no clothes on ...' Dupain, born in New South Wales in 1911, received his first camera at 13, and, like Man Ray, was swept up in the global movements that upended art in the early 20th century. Both adopted pioneering techniques that helped shift perceptions of photography away from mere documentary record and into the realm of art. De l'Ecotais has made a study of Man Ray's work since she was an intern specialising in photography at the Pompidou Centre in Paris. In 1994, when the gallery received the work that remained in Man Ray's studio after his death in 1976 – some 12,000 negatives and 5000 prints – she was given the task of cataloguing it. Her efforts became the basis for the landmark show Man Ray: Photography Inside Out in 1998. Born Emmanuel Radnitsky in Philadelphia in 1890, Man Ray moved to Paris in 1921 (his Jewish-Russian family changed their name to Ray in 1912 in response to antisemitism in the US). He arrived in Paris at a time when Surrealism and Dadaism were in full swing. His portraits include a who's who of the art world: Andre Breton, Gertrude Stein, Salvador Dali and Virginia Woolf. Marcel Duchamp, one of his closest friends, was an inspiration for Man Ray, who embraced 'an approach [that says] all methods and all mediums are interesting: the point is not the technique, it's what you want to say, what you want to express,' says de l'Ecotais. The same was true for Dupain, who is best known for Sunbaker, the iconic image of a swimmer fresh from the ocean, lying on the sand. Taken in 1937, it came to represent an idealised vision of the sun-bronzed Aussie, and remains Australia's most recognisable image. (Ironically, the subject is actually a Brit, Harold Salvage.) But Dupain's lesser-known early work is remarkable and pioneering, says Harding, co-curator of the current show. She says that, like Man Ray, Dupain played with technique and used innovations such as solarisation and superimposition, as well as cropping, framing and playing with angles and subject matter. 'The idea of them being contemporaries is probably not immediately apparent, but they were both at the peak of their powers in the 1930s,' says Harding. 'They both had this capacity to synthesise things, to take them back to their essential element ... [they saw] this enlightened or more inventive possibility.' Dupain's interest in Man Ray was already evident in 1935 when, aged just 24, he showed insight and maturity in his review of the book Man Ray Photographs 1920-1934 for The Home magazine. Embracing what he learnt about his Paris-based counterpart and other international photographers, the Sydneysider adapted some of their techniques and made them his own, as well as carving out his own approach. 'Man Ray appealed to me because he was radical,' Dupain later told his biographer, Helen Ennis. 'He didn't give a stuff for his contemporaries or his peers … he went ahead and did what he wanted to do.' Clearly, Dupain recognised a kindred spirit. Loading Both artists worked with women who were artists and photographers in their own right: Lee Miller worked with Man Ray in Paris and also became his lover, and Olive Cotton met Dupain at photography school and went on to work with him; the pair later married. Stunning images of and by both women are showcased in the exhibition in a section called 'Collaborators'. Another synergy was that the work of both men featured in fashion magazines, which was often how they made a living. Dupain's photographs, influenced by Hollywood and modernism, appeared in advertisements for David Jones and in several publications, particularly The Home. Man Ray worked for French Vogue from 1924, as well as for Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli, but started developing his reputation through images published in Harper's Bazaar. His photographs of Parisienne women were more about people than fashion, says de l'Ecotais. In the 1930s, his use of solarisation and superimposition made his name. 'It's only a few years of success but it's a big success,' she says. The pairing of their work celebrates not only the impact they had in their lifetimes, but also the legacy of their innovations. '[Both artists'] work feels incredibly fresh, it feels thoughtful and it has this energy about it,' says Harding. De l'Ecotais says the legacy of both artists is ongoing and very significant. 'When you look at these images, they are very modern and contemporary; they haven't aged at all.'
The Age
2 hours ago
- The Age
‘Changed the language of what art is': Huge balloon sculpture for national gallery
A playful balloon sculpture, part of an iconic series created by controversial pop artist Jeff Koons, has officially joined Jackson Pollock's Blue poles in the collection of the National Gallery of Australia. Balloon Venus Dolni Vestonice (Yellow) is a 2.7-metre high yellow stainless-steel sculpture that reimagines a prehistoric fertility figure as a mirror-polished balloon. It's the first of the American artist's balloon series to enter the collection of an Australian cultural institution and gallery director Nick Mitzevich says he's more than ready for a public debate over whether the sculpture qualifies as art. 'There are artists in each generation that revolutionises what art is, that challenges people,' Mitzevich said. 'Jackson Pollock re-thought what painting was. In the '60s and '70s, Andy Warhol re-thought what art could be, that everyday objects could be art. 'Louise Bourgeois revolutionised the way she made work with her gigantic amazing spiders, for example. What Jeff Koons has done from the 1980s, he has changed the language of what art is. History shows these revolutionaries become the middle ground and the reference points for each generation and I believe that of Jeff Koons.' Koons melds pop art, conceptual art and minimalism, employing modern materials and highly polished surfaces to riff on everything from household appliances such as the vacuum cleaner to inflatable animals. He is best known in Australia as the creator of Puppy, a 12-metre-high terrier made from 60,000 flowering plants and 55,000 tonnes of soil which was installed in the forecourt of the Museum of Contemporary Art.
