Interview with Jake Kuhn & Noah Stratton-Twine / The Peril at Pincer Point (SFF26)

The strangest game of Go-fish.

Interview by Aksharaa Agarwal

It’s a rainy Monday here in Sydney as I’m ducking in to wait on a Zoom call. The sound of silence is interrupted by Jake Kuhn (co-director) joining up. Immediately, he warns me, ‘I’m at a Japanese theme-park, so if you hear any screaming sounds….’ Noah Stratton-Twine (co-director) dials on from indoors. A hubbub ensues as we exchange digital pleasantries simultaneously, and we are acquainted. I am trying to contain my excitement (and also figure out how to turn my camera on).

After congratulating them on making what I can only describe as a singular film by modern standards (its achievement of a unique blend of sustained sketch-comedy tonality, undercut by a potent, stylised formal composition, presently has few contemporaries), I pose my first question.

‘How would you describe this film in sounds?’ A question highly pertinent to the plot of the film, there is an instant provocation of noises. Exclamation and laughter. Then Noah articulates that it would be some formulation of ominous, angry and exasperated exchanges, an audio note that sums up the presiding pattern of action that drives the plot and characterizes the protagonist. Jake seems to agree. Having prepared an original (and beautiful) score for the sound design of The Peril at Pincer Point, Noah knows what he’s talking about. As they’d later discuss, that hasn’t always been the case, not entirely.

Before I proceed though, the two swiftly turn the question around on me. ‘Forgive the UNO reverse,’ Jake says, but their anticipatory curiosity for the audience’s perspective is more than welcome. (Another reason for crowds to pack the hall for their Q&A screening at Sydney Film Festival in a few weeks! Just one of so many.) Trying to impress them, I venture, ‘I’d take the entire 83 minute runtime, and strip it down to just breathing noises. That could be interesting, I think.’ More laughter and exclamation, although it isn’t so much a description as an iteration. Rich, moody, evocative, thematic and highly textured are just some of the ways I can describe the sound crafted for Pincer Point. Considering the task the protagonist is set, I thought they’d appreciate the prospect of additional Foley. In a manner of speaking, that’s what’s at the heart of the film, among other things. I suppose it’s one of the film’s many successes that the viewers who tune into its frequency should turn into siren-song seekers.

‘For such a highly stylised work, both visually and sonically, much of it was actually improvised,’ I observe. They have elaborated on as much elsewhere. ‘How did you come to land on this particular story?’

‘I’d…given up on the short film,’ Noah begins. For his previous feature, Two Big Feet, he’d applied the mumble-core formula: a stylistically verité format typically charting idiosyncratic, loosely-bound, interpersonal stories. With this one, they wanted to try a different tack. Building off the same foundation, a low budget, a tight cast, and shared influences, they wanted to ‘push it’ to achieve a different result. ‘A lot of it was Jack (Redmayne)’s responses,’ he offers. Redmayne and Noah previously worked together on Noah’s directorial debut, and the former, who plays leading man Jim Baitte, clearly left a lasting impression on the latter. Both directors rave about his ability to perform the unexpected, even remarking that they could build several projects simply off his spontaneity.

As a follow-up, I enquire whether his character, or any others from the film, were based on people they knew in life, or could retroactively identify. ‘P.W Griffin, the director within the film, is (sort of) based on the both of us,’ Noah shares, and Jake nods wholeheartedly. Drawing on the works of late filmmaker Roger Corman (who also receives a dedication in the film), the pair aimed at loose caricatures typical of his and other classical movies as opposed to writing specific characters. They list-off the broad types therein: the weasel, the maniac, the old wizard, the comic-relief. That these clichés emerge with interactive specificity is an aspect which both creators credit to the cast, noting that the actors’ personalities dynamised the otherwise generalised templates. They also praise Os Leanse, who plays the venerated hotshot P.W Griffin, inspired by, among other sources, Orson Welles. Tentative as to whether the commandeering sensibility would translate well for a twenty-first century indie, they found themselves pleasantly surprised. ‘It was supposed to be a horror,’ says Noah, referring to the way these borrowed elements lend themselves to the genre. ‘But when we saw it come together we realized it was a comedy.’

Building on my investigation into their process, I ask them about their experience co-directing beside each-other. For the record, they don’t need to address it; a jovial ease makes itself apparent, whether it be the result of a creative partnership, or the foundation for it. Their words merely confirm it. ‘It was easy,’ Noah says. He mentions that they’d already cultivated a ‘homogenized taste’. ‘Very unserious.’ Being united in their approach to have fun, and get as close to a 60s b-movie as they could, smoothed what is almost always a tenuous process. ‘I had complete faith…it allowed for one of us to step out, if we needed to cover more ground…I knew that he could get a good shot.’ For a film involving several crabs, this is a definite plus. ‘It also allowed for a removal of the ego,’ Jake adds. The two had written a basic script together, another usually isolated process. Two heads being better than one, they found it effortless to riff on each-other’s propositions. ‘If someone is willing to fight (for it), it’s probably a good idea.’ That is how they ended up with a rudimentary script three weeks prior to shooting.

Taking my cue from their spinning banter, my next question was one from the film itself.

‘What is your favorite fish?’

‘Oh, I was just on a shoot and I must have asked everyone on set that question.’ Noah and Jake are all laughs. I could not have anticipated what came next. ‘Oh you know,’ Noah begins, ‘(out of) the ones that swim, the coelacanth, the ancient fish which have almost gone extinct.’ I should have guessed they’d know their stuff. ‘As for eating, nothing beats a cold-smoked salmon.’ Jake goes for the dumbo octopus, out of pure visual appeal, a very real, very rare and adorable marine inhabitant. He also shouts ‘the best sushi’ he had in Austin, (while attending SXSW earlier this year), with yellow-fin tuna. ‘We’re already planning…the next (film), just to go back.’ They are very prepared, and very much enjoying this, which can only mean one thing: I get to witness their riffing in real time.

‘Let’s do worst fish,’ Noah chimes. Jake is still nodding as Noah continues, ‘Let me just say, it’s sad that octopus and squid tastes good because they’re smart. Also, cod. How bad does a fish have to be for it to be battered into oblivion and fried?’ He is particularly animated about this. ‘I had an octopus tentacle once,’ Jake’s distaste is working itself into his expression. ‘I’m going to go with that.’ Noah interjects to quickly provide special mentions to the ‘small fish’: sardines, anchovies, oysters, ‘although the tabasco is doing most of the heavy lifting there,’ and of course, crabs.

Returning to the matter at hand, I pose my next question. ‘Which parts of this process, if any from before and until now, were the most memorable? Challenging or exciting?’ ‘For first timers, the shoot itself was quite smooth,’ Noah notes. ‘It was fun.’ ‘Submitting it to the festival-’ Jake begins. ‘Waiting after submitting, and finding financing (for submitting it to the festivals). The four months after we submitted it to South By (South West), I was so stressed. We were just waiting for that rejection email…reading on Reddit that they usually send out rejections on Wednesdays. “Bloody Wednesdays”. I still remember when Noah called.’ The pair took home the Neon Auteur award for Pincer Point which played in the Visions section of the festival.

‘The most memorable…’ Noah muses. ‘I worked on the editing, the vfx and the sound…just chasing that moment where everything clicked.’ Once again, he goes over how the narrative itself was heavily improvised and the production was ‘like a holiday. At the end of each day we’d go for a swim. I was in the sound studio, I remember watching the leading sequence up to the main swell…the shot where the train pulls in, and he gets off the train, that was so difficult to pull off. The titles come up….seeing it all come together, was triumphant. It creates a human response.’ Once again, the duo starts to riff. ‘When the festival was happening, we didn’t know we had to go,’ Jake offers. ‘It was so last minute, and we won the award…after, one of the festival technicians came up to us and congratulated us.’ (He really liked the film.) ‘I remember, he opened his jacket and he was wearing a Frogopolis t-shirt,’ (A reference from within Pincer Point). Beaming smiles on both faces. ‘It was kind of a full-circle moment….that was so sick.’

Jake cuts in while the question stands. ‘The last day of shooting, I remember our producer, he was making this bolognese and he was just (at it) for hours and hours. When it was finally made, he raised his head right into a lamp and it shattered all over the bolognese, and all the plates, and we couldn’t eat it.’ Noah adds, ‘it’s like a metaphor for the movie!’

‘You’ve mentioned in an earlier interview,’ I venture, ‘that you’d be interested in the idea of making a sequel, or starting a franchise.’ Before I can finish my sentence, Jake has started his. ‘Definitely! Interested? We’re doing it!’ He laughs. ‘We say, this was our Corman movie, the next one will be our Gone with the Wind, our Lawrence of Arabia.’ They are repeating each-other’s words, doubling down. ‘It’s going to be a massive three and a half-hour epic…we’re going to need at least a hundred and twenty million.’ Noah affirms. ’Yeah, we made this for (a couple) thousand dollars, the next one’s going to be millions.’ They are giddy, and that’s all one really needs to know about what’s next for the pair. ‘We’ve already got five Pincer Point movies outlined.’

At this point, I have taken close to half an hour of their time, but the frenetic demands of being up-and-coming geniuses compel them to move along. On a parting note, I ask for any closing remarks.

‘Uh, let’s go back to the fish,’ Noah initiates. ‘Shout out to lobster, and…white bait, the French fry of the sea.’ Jake has more to add to this. ‘I have to give a shout out to ‘The Pilot’ in Greenwich.’ Noah is of the same opinion. ‘Yeah, it’s the best place for seafood. A bowl-plate hybrid, a pan seared fish (I don’t like fatty fish but a nice pan sear), and some potatoes,’ Noah states. ‘That is the best food.’

And one must concede to the captains. Their familiarity with the material is well-detailed, their repertoire of opinions is oceanic. As driven as any two voyagers setting sail upon uncharted waters, they will continue to make their discoveries known, and we will hear about it. Already in a few weeks, their travels will bring them to Sydney for the Australian premiere of The Peril at Pincer Point. They promise to come bearing Frogopolis t-shirts, and in turn, history promises to repeat itself. As sure as there is salt in the sea, these two are something to look out for, and their work is something to look forward to.

Jake and Noah review Frogopolis (dir. P.W Griffin):

Noah hates Frogopolis, and thinks it was rightfully a disaster upon general release (too long, too over the top), whereas I am a big defender. I think the sweeping scope and audacious visuals (even if pushing aesthetic tastes) are difficult to achieve and worth celebrating. The acting is also especially committed, despite being melodramatic.

P.W Griffin (Wikipedia excerpt):

Patrick Wringworm Griffin’s first words after being delivered from his mother Letitia-Anne Griffin’s womb were not babyish babbles or cries, for instead he pulled his new mother close and proclaimed for his father, the doctors, and all else in the room to hear, “clean yourself up mother for we must make haste — the Piccadilly Odeon presentation of Wild Strawberries starts in exactly forty minutes.” From this moment it was clear to all that Patrick’s contribution in this life would be in sole servitude to the cinematic arts.

He directed his first feature at only five years old, titled ‘Where Have The Autumn Mornings Gone’, which earned him fourteen Academy Awards – a then-staggering quantity of merit for a boy who had yet to learn to read. After a six year hiatus of both toilet training and a study of the great literary and philosophical works, Patrick returned to the film industry with his under-appreciated follow-up ‘Duck Hunt: Mortal Warfare,’ a film that both stunned and soured Griffin’s image in the public eye with its devastating subject matter, inducing mass walkouts and hysteria at the 1985 Cannes Film Festival. He would recede into shame for a great many years until his fateful adaption of the acclaimed Harvey Rex novella ‘Frogopolis’, a text reviewed by most as ‘unadaptable.’ Despite a reasonably warm reception, the film was considered a significant box office failure; the New York Times calling it a “disgrace for everyone involved.” It’s four-hour runtime was considered the leading factor in the productions titanic failure, however notable few (Roger Ebert, Hal Ashby) gave accolades to the epic’s “audacious and risk-taking sound design,” considering it “the picture’s only true offering.”

Patrick, now going by the moniker ‘P.W.’, despite all odds is rumoured to be undertaking his next redemptive project starring part of Griffin’s usual company of players Elaine Gracey and Rich Russo, one that is already entrenched in scandal and industry gossip of heavy reshoots underway. Infamously secretive about his process and whom he selects for his inner circle, all that is known about the project it’s new working title ‘The Sound Recordist and the Sea’, and it is set to premiere at the 2003 Walberswick Film Festival