What Hollywood Gets Wrong About Male Friendship | Martin McDonagh on ‘The Interview’

I was brought up having to watch English plays which is like people drinking cups of tea for 2 and 1/2 hours and I I I always wanted to shoot them. >> I'm David Marchese and today I'm interviewing Academy Award winning filmmaker Martin McDonagh. McDonagh writes and directs darkly funny, profane, >> This is just a [ __ ] start. Why don't you put that on your Good Morning Missouri [ __ ] wake up broadcast? >> violent, and stylish movies. Films that seem to want to make you laugh as much as provoke you. Like The Banshees of Inisherin or Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. And his latest, Wild Horse Nine, about two CIA agents played by Sam Rockwell and John Malkovich. >> And who the [ __ ] are you? The CIA? >> We are the CIA, actually. We're totally the CIA. >> We're not the CIA. >> His work is full of ideas I wanted to ask him about. How he sees politics, provocation, and his own legacy.

Here's my conversation with Martin McDonagh. But first, a quick message. If you're not a subscriber, we have some news for you. You can now explore the times for free without paywalls during your first month in The New York Times app. Just download the app and we hope you enjoy it. Okay, on to the interview. Martin, thank you for taking the time to be here. I appreciate it. >> Thanks, David. Good to be here. >> So, the the two main characters in Wild Horse Nine, played by Sam Rockwell and and John Malkovich, are this is not giving anything away. They're CIA agents who have been sent to destabilize Chile's democracy after President Allende was elected. And this of course is is based on, you know, real-world American misadventures in Chile. And this movie is coming out in the middle of a broader conversation and a broader argument over sort of how America's place in the world is understood. You know, and and often that comes down down to a sort of binary. Is America a force for good or a force for bad?

How do you see America's place in the world? >> Oh, gosh. Uh Like right now, I'm not sure. I guess we're all a little bewildered about that. Like what it stands for, what it doesn't. But I guess in a way the the the film explores a time when uh seemingly America's place in the world was as the good guy, I guess. Which is kind of what I think most kids in the West, you know, not just in the US, but in the UK and Ireland um Western Europe, were sort of brought brought up to feel that, you know, that the CIA are the good guys and the KGB are the bad guys, that America's the good guy and Russia's the bad. But the more I sort of read up about what the CIA were up to throughout the end of the last century, and particularly with this film in Chile, you know, to um destabilize and help overthrow a democratically elected government, which ended up in fascist horrors for 15 years um makes you think that you're not being told quite the truth about the West uh and its moral outlook, I guess.

>> Did um Malkovich's politics play into his performance at all? Cuz my I mean, I think he sort of rejected politics wholesale. I think he said he hasn't voted since like 1971 or something like that. >> We didn't really have um political conversations. Uh but I I think we share the same questioning um disbelieving point of view. Uh yeah, so I think that's probably what kept us um on the straight and narrow in terms of who this guy was. Really, that the the the guy is sort of the opposite to total opposite of what we believe in, you know? He's been a proper government operative for many years doing pretty terrible things over the years, but none of my characters are ever mouthpieces for my politics or or the opposite. You just have to find them and let them become themselves and let them talk. And when they start getting dangerous, um, it just becomes more exciting.

>> But I just want to press on something just a little, but you said your characters are never mouthpieces for your politics. Um, and maybe maybe the operative word there is is mouthpiece, which yeah, no writer wants one of their characters to be a mouthpiece. That's that sounds like a something simplistic, but surely your characters at certain points have espoused things that you believe about the world, right? Is it is it really fair to say that there's like a, you know, a severe divide between what Martin McDonagh thinks and believes and what the characters in his work think and >> No, you're you're absolutely right. But but I think the job is to treat that as as fairly as as a character has who has the opposite feelings. Probably in The Pillowman play I wrote from like 20 25 years ago, because it's all about a writer who's being investigated. I think a lot of the stuff he came out with are sort of my beliefs, but even in that you kind of try and obfuscate, um, not a word I usually use, exactly, you know, what your feelings are.

>> There's a line in Wild Horse Nine, and it's just that life is sad, everything is sad. And uh it struck me as sort of a melancholy iteration of a line from The Pillowman, which is the world's a pile of [ __ ] I know there are moments of of grace in in your work, but is is that how you see it? >> That's not me. That's I mean I wrote them, but uh No, I think in both instances it's sort of the set up to a a joke in a way. So, uh So, no, I definitely don't feel that way about the world. Those characters do, I guess. But those characters are still, you know, thriving and I think both of those are quite nasty tough cop-type characters as well. Um so, I don't know if that's the way I feel about cops. I don't think so. Um but but it's definitely not the way I I mean I'm happiest. It's weird cuz I guess my stuff comes out kind of dark and sad in a lot of places, but I'm so the opposite, you know. I never thought I'd be in a position to make a film, for instance, you know. I I thought that's it it's nothing that was ever open to me growing up. I just sort of working-class kid in London.

>> I think of your your work as generally uh on an existential level pretty dark. >> Really? >> Yeah. And I thought, well, how could it be the case that that doesn't represent something about your like innermost feelings about what life is. >> It's like if Samuel Beckett turned out to be a happy-go-lucky guy. >> Yeah, no, I I I I can see I can see where you're going with that. But um I but I think questioning and uh disbelieving what you're told, for instance, i- isn't dark. And making art at all is always hopeful, I think, even if it's dark art. I always think of like Leonard Cohen and people saying that his stuff is depressing, but I it's I find it the total opposite, you know. The tunes are beautiful, it's poetic. I I mean, I'm not disagreeing with like a a lot of people have said said my stuff is on the dark side, but um in the writing of it, I'm like joyful, you you because there's lots of jokes, and even the darker bits.

The performances are so wonderful, and the visual uh cinematic parts of it are so wonderful that darkness honestly doesn't come into it from my perspective. >> Well, yeah, you you said um you know, that making art is sort of a a hopeful act in a way. Do you Do you think the art that you make has the ability to change the perspective or the behaviors of the people who see it? >> Um I mean, that's a hard one, but uh if if an audience has come out having laughed a lot and learned some stuff, particularly in this one about Chile or Patrice Lumumba in the Congo or or whatever else, then all of that is uh what I'm after. And all of that is hopeful. >> I think I used to agree with you, but now now I now I don't. And I often think of uh there's a quote. I believe it's by Peter Cook, the the British comedian.

And he said, I'm just paraphrasing. I can't remember exactly, but he said something like, "Well, you know, the the greatest satire in the world was in Weimar Germany, and that stopped Hitler right in his tracks." >> It's a very good line. It's a very funny line. Yeah. Is hopeful work going to stop stuff? I don't know. But is anything? But so why not just make hopeful work? >> Might as well. Um I think of your work as um >> dark and bleak. >> Dark and bleak, and but al- also so- as as the um product of someone who on some level likes to provoke a reaction. Even if if that feeling is, you know, uh you know, as sort of a recoil sometimes. >> Um >> Am I wrong about that, too? >> No, no. >> Okay. >> Recoil I might question. I I I I think think about this. Uh but yeah, it's it's all quite provocative. It's never intentionally offensive and I think and it's often outrageous and like for instance Malkovich's character in this is outrageous.

But I I don't think he or the even the film is or any of my stuff is is offensive and I think that's a a lovely balance to to to keep walking, you know, cuz I always feel like my heart is in the right place um morally about all of these stories I've I've told so far and you know, I have a predilection for being naughty in in them all. In this there's, you know, a scene about cheeses for instance that is is quite quite naughty. Um but never never does it ever occur to me to be offensive for instance. So so provocative sure. >> What's the difference between being outrageous and being offensive? >> Um >> Is one just a nicer word for the for the other? >> No, I think one is deliberately trying to hurt or or or um attack an audience whereas the other is to almost delight in something you haven't heard before or you might not have thought of.

>> Do you want to say what the cheeses thing is or should I? >> Some things maybe should be fun for an audience to but you can >> Okay. So the Malkovich character has a has a a little disquisition at one point about that what what the character calls gay countries make the best cheeses. >> Yeah. >> And not >> Holland, France, the the UK and Switzerland uh make great cheeses uh and they are some of the gay countries. Russia definitely not gay country. I'm going to get in so much trouble. I wish >> It's in the >> movie. >> it? >> Um and they and Russia doesn't have a good cheese. They don't have and and the there's a connection between the two, which is then connected to to democracy. And democracy leads to gay leads to good cheeses. Something I've thought about often I think is true. >> I'm sure um there are people who, you know, will find that scene problematic or offensive and and >> But >> But when you're watching it and I've watched it with a whole lot of audiences, mostly pretty liberal audiences, like the biggest laughs in the whole film is in that scene. And I think it's cuz it's outrageous.

But there's some kind of weird something to it. >> Um but but my first question about that is, you know, I would say for going back 30 years, you know, there have been people who have said your work is offensive. But in that time, do you feel like that the conversation about what causes offense, what's not offensive, who can say what using what language, has that conversation evolved or changed or do you feel like we're still having the same conversation we were having 30 years ago about about political correctness basically? >> I think it's gotten worse, especially in the last 10 years. Like only in the last 10 years have I been asked to change words in plays from 25 30 years ago because of offense taken by certain words that weren't there 25 years ago. And my uh approach to it is that those words were there to be either outrageous or to be truthful, you know, if you're writing a for instance racist character, they're going to use racist language.

To try and cut those out 25 years later for what reason? I'm I'm I'm never quite sure. It feels not just problematic, but it feels like things are getting troublingly worse about that cuz I was never asked to do that back in the day. And I think if you if you don't like that in a play, you should just not do the play. You shouldn't try and change the play 25 years later. >> Is it the N-word that people ask you to change? >> Uh no. No, but but uh um s- actually m- m- much softer, but words that could be seen as equally >> Yeah. >> um racist or offensive. >> You know, I when I was uh preparing for this interview, I I you know, read a a lot of um reviews of your work or essays about your work. And you know, there were uh two in particular that stood out to me just on the topic of race where I'm sure you're familiar with these pieces. There was a a piece by Hilton Als about your play uh A Behanding in Spokane where he he equated uh a black character in that uh play to a sort of a step-and-fetch-it type. And then also in my colleague here at the Times, Wesley Morris, wrote a piece about Three Billboards where he you know, he said he thought the character's use of the N-word was uh was glib, basically. And I'm not asking you to rebut those or you know, take those apart, but those are two serious, you know, both Pulitzer Prize-winning critics, both black men who saw

something that to them was troubling in the work. Does does that then make you think, well, maybe there is something I I need to look at that I'm doing maybe unknowingly? Or do you think, no, they're just they're they just don't get it or they're >> I think after the play, the the the one that Hilton had the issue with it, I I I did have a a a look back on it and um wondered about the the amount of of uh offensive words in it and and tried to And but did think seriously about it, you know, I I I felt my heart was in the right place when I wrote it, you know, um mostly about portraying the stupidity of a main guy who was racist in it. Um but uh you definitely take it on board. You definitely If you If you're, you know, you grew up completely anti-racist and that's what part of what your uh attempt is at art is about, when that doesn't go across to certain critics, you definitely have a think about it.

>> And and what do you think about it? Like when you say you would have a think about it, what were the >> Um the just just just to I think question the language a little bit in the next one and or uh maybe just take a little more care about that subject. For instance, in regard to the play. Um less so about the film. I feel like the film was taken as a redemption to a character that I didn't feel was true. Um and So, yeah. Yeah, I I don't agree as much with with that one. >> I think your work often generates, you know, questions about um you know, political correctness or or, you know, the use of language. But but no one ever um I'm not suggesting they should. This is just an observation. No one ever uh writes about violence or or they write comparatively less about the violence. But why do you think one gets people um uh agitated and and what the other violence seems to have raise no like moral ethical questions for people. It's weird, right?

>> Well, I'd have to sort of disagree cuz I've probably read a lot more. >> Oh, you get it for violence, too? >> Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. >> Um >> Yeah. >> And and the criticism would be what? That it's gratuitous or something? >> Yeah, gratuitous and always there and doesn't need to be. >> So, what do you make of that? >> Uh I I don't think it's always there, but and I never make it gratuitous. Um Never intentionally. But I think especially with the stage work you know, I was I was brought up having to watch English plays which are like people drinking cups of tea for 2 and 1/2 hours. And and I I I always wanted to shoot them on stage. So so I think that that that actually evolved into the plays I made. I'm being a bit glib about that but sort of. But I did think you can plays should be as exciting as the best films. And that meant you should be able to do anything on stage that you can do in a film.

Which which led to a little violence now and then. But but always I think with a moral dimension to it, you know. I would never again want to be offensive with it. But I think they've been getting less and less violent, you know. If you if you discount all the fingers in Banshees, there's hardly any violence at all. I guess the donkey gets it but uh uh by accident. Off screen. But but I think they have been going that way. Like even with guns, you know, I think my early like Bruges was kind of happy-go-lucky with the gun stuff but I kind of tried to go against that a little bit and question it. >> You know, Wild Horse 9 is also a film like Banshees of Inisherin which is about a a character in the case of Wild Horse 9, John Malkovich's character. In the case of Banshees, Brendan Gleeson's character who is who is thinking about legacy.

About you know what they're leaving behind and sort of what their life has or or will amount to. Um Is is that a question that you think about? >> Ooh, I knew you were going to go there. I think so. I think like every piece of work is uh you're sort of hoping to add to your canon of good stuff, I guess. And I think if you do enough of them or leave behind enough of them, um that that there's a route to happiness there, you know. Um >> But why would that be a route to happiness, leaving behind good work? >> Um well, you got to have something, I guess, you know. You got to And it gets comes back to like the hope of of putting a good piece of work out there uh is is sort of what I'm striving for. I think the more I've done it and the more and maybe it's kind of having moved into films after like 10 or 15 years of doing plays, when you get a play right, it's it's gone forever, you know. It's it's it's it's beautiful in the moment, but, you know, I can't show you the Beauty Queen of Leenane from '96 or The Pillowman from London or here in 2001 or whatever. So, that's weirdly you put all your energy into those pieces of hopeful art and they're gone. But and I think that's

probably why I've I've stuck with films lately and why I'm probably more happier artistically is that that they're there and I can see them and I know the people are going to be able to see them. Um in answer to the legacy bit of of the question. So, um but but it's not bad thing, though, is it? I mean, it's a pretty good thing if that's what your role has been in in the artistic world is just leaving some good films behind. And what they take from a good one, I I I don't mind, but I want them to be full of good acting and and funny moments. In this one, you know, a bit of truth about history um that maybe isn't spoken about enough. Um And in the previous one, Banshees, you know, a a take on you know, breakups or or male friendships that's uh not talked about or not explored too much, you know? >> Well, I I want to ask a a question about that. So, the new film is also about a central male friendship.

What ideas were you interested in exploring this time around? >> Um weirdly, because the pre the last one was Banshees was sort of the end of a loving male relationship. This is like right still in the middle of of uh a love affair almost, you know? Sometimes I think of these two guys, Sam Rockwell and John Malkovich, as um you know, this old married couple in a way, you know, who bicker and who drive each other nuts but there's a love that's fundamentally there in every scene. Um again, as as as horrible as their jobs have been, to get that right was the most important part of this film. Cuz my male friendships are are, you know quite deep and sad and open and and everything that, you know, uh a female friendship can be, but is acknowledged to be and is seen as being in in the culture.

I like the gentleness of my male friendships, and I guess to show a bit more of that, you know, not to just have like a buddy movie where that's sort of empty or surface, is what I was trying to get at with this film. >> A lot of your male friends are um in your work are exploring ethical dilemmas. Have you and a friend had to like work through an ethical problem in your life? >> Uh I don't think so. I couldn't I couldn't I can't couldn't put my finger on any. Have you? >> Uh well, um yeah, of course. Yeah. I think the sort of great ethical dilemma of my life is a if it makes sense to say sort of a a postmortem ethical dilemma where um I really can't believe I'm wasting your time talking about this right now, but where you know, my my best friend from growing up died from suicide. And and I had no idea that it was that was a possibility that he was hurting that much and then trying to think through after the I mean this was a few years ago now, but after the fact sort of what were my ethical responsibilities there? How did I fail?

You know, what was I culpable for if anything? And then also um how I understand sort of how much blame or not to apportion to him for his for what he did. It feels like a an ethical dilemma that I still think about. >> And do you talk about that with your friends? >> Yeah. >> Your male friends. >> And do you have a similar feeling to that? >> we have pretty different feelings. Uh Uh one of my good friends says, you know, this was a an instance of mental illness. And uh my friend sort of had fallen through the the care cracks as it were and you know, how can how can you really blame someone for that? And then, you know, probably too harshly or ungenerously I can think, I don't think he was mentally ill or or if he was like really what is mental illness? Um And so I think he there is my friend who died does have some responsibility for what he ultimately did. And that's, you know, it's I don't think either one of us are incontrovertibly right, but >> Yeah, yeah.

>> But but like even that right there is a fascinating discussion you've had with your close male friends. And that's not necessarily necessarily something you ever really see in in a Hollywood movie necessarily. And that's sort of in a very different way is sort of what I've tried to tried to explore from Bruges to now. >> You know, I read a well, a couple, but there's one particular collection of academic essays that I read about your work. And at the at the back, there's like a biographical critical timeline. >> So, in in this book it says 1982 and then in in a way that's so plainspoken it's funny. It says at 12 loses Catholic faith, begins listening to punk rock. >> Oh, that's that's probably pretty accurate actually. >> was going on when you were 12 and do were those things related to each other? >> I think they were. Very good question. I think they totally were. I think I got into The Clash particularly around that age, 12 or 13. And they were such a great band to help a kid question everything I think, you know. Like I was a working class kid who had no As Johnny Rotten would say, I had no future apart from a dead end job or a boss or you know. And I left school very young.

I left school at 16. But I think bands like The Clash showed you that there was another way. You didn't have to have a life that was, you know, dictated to you. You didn't have to work in a factory or an office that you didn't want to do. There's there there was hope, you know. So so yeah, I grabbed onto that with both hands at the age of 12. And the Catholic thing, I think if you're starting to question governments and and people who force you to do things against your will, um which is all the the punk rock ethic, naturally the Catholic Church are going to be right in the firing line. >> Have you ever regained your faith? >> No, I mean there there parts of it that never fully go, you know. I I'm sure my sort of moral sense is sort of in for formed by the good stuff I took from the stories of Jesus or whatever. Um But but no, I think I'm getting more and more sort of entrenched in uh in some kind of anti-religious feeling in general. I don't I think it is one of the worst things that's happening in the world. But then it seems to be getting worse. Everywhere seems to be getting more and more fundamental and less and less analytical.

>> Yeah. I mean if you look at the world >> but women's rights seem to be going down in, you know, this country, most of Middle East, you know, and that's all because I think because of religious issues. >> You know, when I did go back and read sort of early profiles of you, you were very, you know, sort of positioned as like a, you know, a anti-establishment punk rock theater person. Like someone's coming to, you know, rip it up and start again. >> Yeah. >> An anti-theater person. >> Anti-theater person. And then there were there were, you know, stories of you that, you know, people probably made too much hay of, but like what's the, you know, you were drinking at an award show and Sean Connery said be quiet and you just told him to f off or but did you feel as if you were were trying to cultivate an image or there was something useful about being perceived a certain way or maybe you were insecure and that's how the insecurity showed up? >> All of the above, I think. Yeah, yeah.

But I did though I I mean I used to read, you know, interviews with playwrights at the time and and I I'd read them and feel like I don't want to go see your play. You're so, you know, you've got nothing nothing interesting to say and the way you're saying it is is really dull, too. So, I was even at that that time quite a shy person. Um but I thought you don't want to be that in an interview. So, you go out you would go out and say, you know, I think this best play anyone's going to see for the next 10 years. Deal with it. It It that kind of thing is funny. Probably born out of some kind of insecurity, but I I I I if I was reading that I'd I'd think I want to go see that play, you know, so it I I always had my tongue firmly in my cheek with most of that stuff. Um and sort of the last 20 years I've sort of been doing less of it. >> When you alluded earlier to, you know, you left school at 16, maybe didn't have a lot of prospects.

Um You know, my understanding is that you were on What do they call it in UK? The dole? >> On the dole, yes. >> Uh unemployment insurance we call it here. Uh But what what I've read you sort of uh in old interviews talk about that time, it doesn't you kind of make it sound like you were getting along okay. Um >> Yeah. >> Did you feel like you you would have been okay staying in that life? Or or were there things about it that you you liked? Or or did you feel like you were someone who was like desperately trying to make a new life for himself? >> Oh, oh, totally, yeah. Those are pretty bleak, sad times, you know. Sort of no friends, no money. Um No prospects. And that's when I started writing at at 16. And it was through that process that I kind of found a voice and an ambition uh to get that voice out there, I suppose.

I did have, you know, jobs here and there. Um um but always pretty mundane ones. And would always write through those. And at 20 24, my first play, I think, went on. And and that started everything, you know, that went to the West End and then came off Broadway and then went to Broadway for a year. So, I was like I went from completely unemployed, unemployable, and poor to having a play on Broadway for a year within the space of a year. >> Yeah. >> Um which probably added to the arrogance. >> But you know, it's pretty wild what you just described. A young man sort of underemployed, no friends, not a lot of prospects. Like, I got to change my life. I'm going to do it by writing plays. I mean, that's >> Stupid, I know, but it worked. >> What are aspects of your current self that, you know, the clash-loving teenage Martin McDonagh would feel most proud of and and what are the aspects that would make him think like, "Oh, that's who I turned out to be?"

>> Oh god. >> If if if any. I don't want to assume you've betrayed any youthful ideals. >> Weirdly, the first time I learned about uh Chile and Allende and um Victor Jara and um all the things that this film talks about was it from a Clash song called Washington Bullets on the Sandinista. Yeah. Um and I again, I was like 12 or 13 when I first heard it. Didn't know any of these people or any of those situations and started reading up about it. You know, that was the first time I learned about what the CIA did in Chile. You know, Joe Strummer was sort of a a god to me and his passion and his morality was always an inspiration and I always sort of wanted to do something like that, I think, you know. And I might have done it with one or two plays, but never in the films have I kind of had a a place of anger or or or or wanting to help, I guess. So, and I just feel like for the first time Joe might be proud of this one, you know, um in terms of that and anger and political viewpoint, you know.

>> And then but you know, the flip side of that what would make >> Um >> the teenage you roll your eyes at who you've become? >> What I I probably don't do enough to help in real life uh that I you know, have made too much money from it. I mean, I don't I I don't don't have too much guilt about that cuz I've It's not like I'm killing anyone. I'm just making film, but but that is probably what I if if if the complacency in general in real life is is what a proper punk rocker should be. >> But you can change that now. >> I can change that this afternoon. I can go Don't know what I'm going to do. What should I do? >> Figure out what matters to you and find out how to help. >> But I think that would be making another film. >> Yeah. >> You know, you can get a viewpoint across to millions of people by making a a film. Um if that's going to help or not, we we don't know, but um but I would always come back to that, I think, you know.

>> On the interview, we talked to our guest twice. So, the next day, I spoke with Martin McDonagh again about Quentin Tarantino's influence, his partner Phoebe Waller-Bridge, and what it's like to be part of the Hollywood award circus. Just a heads-up, this part of the conversation is audio only. Martin, it's nice to talk to you again. Thank you. >> You, too, David. >> All right. So, you know, making someone squirm is not my favorite part of the job, >> Uh-huh. >> but there is >> Uh-oh. Uh-oh. >> There's so I just really need a straight answer about this. >> Okay. >> I've seen the new movie twice now. I don't understand why it's called Wild Horse 9. I get the wild horses. >> Yeah. >> Where does the nine come from? >> I I honestly, my pat answer is I kind of want to leave it mysterious and for an audience to decide on their third viewing. So, that could be cuz I don't know what the hell it means, or it could be truth.

>> Wait, are you actually suggesting that on the third time I'll pick up something that I missed the first two times? >> Why not? >> Oh, good. But can I ask I want to ask about your titles generally? >> Yeah. >> Um because you know, I I obviously the name of the movie is a main part of the marketing. I assume in Hollywood these things are often the subject of discussion or or focus grouped. And I was thinking about your titles. >> That I didn't get the memo from Hollywood about? >> memo. The Banshees of Inisherin and In Bruges. >> Yeah. >> So, so foreign words, the only words that you can definitely count on everyone knowing are, you know, the in and of. >> Yeah. >> Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is obviously a mouthful. >> Yeah. >> You know, Seven Psychopaths is relatively straightforward. Kind of sounds like a horror movie though. >> But sellable, it's sellable. Even though we didn't manage to sell it. >> But how how do you think about naming your films? >> Weirdly Three Billboards was the most successful and that's the most long-winded and I had a joke I think in the Pillow Man that you you can't have a comma in a title and then I put a comma in a title.

It's always me these titles. It's always and it's always something vaguely poetic or not not too Hollywood I guess is is is kind of what I'm always going for. Um and there's usually a number or a place in it. Um Yeah, I guess it's born out of some kind of laziness. >> Do do the studios or or anyone um do they ever push back? >> No. The very original title of this was uh Wild Horse 9 Easter Island and there was just a discussion about couldn't quite work out what was preferable and uh ended on Wild Horse 9. >> Uh Wild Horse 9 is definitely better than Wild Horse 9 Easter Island. >> Thanks. Thanks Hollywood. No, I I I think they knew it was deliberately long-winded and peculiar and that was that was okay, you know. >> And so titles aside, uh wasn't that a skillful segue? I think of um I really think of your dialogue as as being stylistically identifiable. Like it's Martin McDonagh dialogue to me, you know, sounds only like Martin McDonagh dialogue. Um and do you feel like you you like there are elements that you understand that constitute your style when it comes to dialogue? Are there things that you know you you like to do?

>> Uh well, I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it is or what they are, but I know it's always in the ballpark of something just slightly overly theatrical maybe uh heightened in some kind of some kind of way. Um I know I know I use repetitions quite a bit. Um and some lines are almost feel like they could be quotes, but that could be like because some of them are setups of a joke or the punchline to a joke. But I I always hope that at the kernel of of what they're about is is how people really speak in a weird way even though it's heightened and and flowery. Um it it cuz it's not the most easily palatable way of speaking, but I think the way we speak isn't simplistic. It's kind of a little peculiar. I think it was like Pinter and Mamet particularly who who made me think that there was like a poetic heightening of how people really speak that they had I thought is the way to go.

>> You mentioned Mamet and Pinter and I I can hear those references or those influences in your work. There's kind of a I think the attention to rhythm, the use of vulgarity, the interplay between sort of a sophisticated wit and also kind of like a low comedy. But I I also You know what I I don't mean that pejoratively. >> absolutely. That's I I agree completely. >> Uh but I I really also see your work as coming out of Tarantino. Just the sort of sort of the explosions of violence sometimes, shocking explosions of violence. W- Was he not a an influence early on? >> I I think early on I guess Pulp Fiction was sort of '94 and >> Yeah, that's right. >> Reservoir Dogs was '92. '92, yeah. So, I think that was around the time I was starting to write the plays. So, maybe hints of it, um but over time I I I don't really see it anymore. I remember the early reviews and early interviews I did I I I kind of name-checked him a bit, but um I I think my stuff has sort of changed since then.

That was the only reason why I sort of bristled at that, cuz I don't quite see it anymore. And I don't think our approach to violence is quite the same, even though it might appear to be the same. >> Oh, how how do you see them as different? >> I I think it's it's it's that thing I was probably saying yesterday about the coolness of cinematic violence. And I've I'm sort of trying to walk away from that a little bit. Perhaps. And I don't know if And I think Quentin might be in the same place with that, but um Yeah. Yeah. I I I I You we talked yesterday about gratuitousness and and all that stuff. And I it's it's definitely something I'm trying to steer clear of these days. >> So, you you and uh Phoebe Waller-Bridge have been together for a decade. You're both private about your relationship, but I read a quote that she gave uh about your work, about being inspired by The Pillowman. And And the quote was, "It was the first play I saw that made me think theater can be really exciting.

Sometimes you need to see something like that, a piece of work that wakes you up, that makes you go, 'Yes, of course that can be done.' And gives your imagination permission to go 17 million other places. Um what of her work has inspired you? >> Well, Fleabag was like game-changing and eye-opening and uh just so insightful and and funny and I just learned so much about that woman and women and feminism and um storytelling um and then Fleabag 2 took it to an even more beautiful place. And I think I learned a lot about love through Fleabag 2. >> Uh what did what did you learn about love? >> Um just about how important it is and uh how lovely it is when you get there. >> Yeah. >> He squirms. >> I want to uh return a little bit to the uh sort of a punk rock informed uh portion of of the interview. Yeah. You know, people people are are talking about Wild Horse 9 as uh you know, an award season contender and and you know, you've been fortunate enough to be in that position a a couple of times in your career having made movies that people thought were award-worthy. Like what's the punk rock, you know, Sean Connery telling off part of Martin McDonagh's soul that that um

Like what what about award season makes you blanch? Like I cannot believe I'm I'm like in here doing this. There must be moments, right? >> I knew you were going to go that way with the the question. I knew it. Uh Like what what's what's a punk rock boy like you doing at the Oscars basically? >> No, no, no. It's not what's a punk rock boy like you doing it. I'm you know, good for you that you're at the Oscars. That's >> I do ask myself that same question. >> But I'm trying to locate that part of you that's still alive and and trying to understand like where it where it manifests out in the out in the world. >> Um uh >> Outside of the work. Outside I can see it in the work. >> But that's the thing I think. No, it's a very good question. I'm not taking the piss or anything. Uh >> You can you can take the piss. That's okay. I've done it to you. You can do it back to me. >> That's true. Um but I I think the young me would never give a damn about any kind of awards-y things. It's all kind of irrelevant and all that. Um but once you once once you start getting nominated I find it fascinating. I just find like the odds changing as the season goes on.

Like I'm all I'm always Googling, you know, is is John Malkovich still the leading contender? Who's who's coming up? [ __ ] Andrew Scott's coming up. What can we do to destroy his race? Not really. But um but because it's again even making films is like so far away from anything I'd ever thought I'd be involved in. If you double that and think that the Oscars and the an Oscar race is something you never thought you'd be involved in, I I just kind of find it fun and enjoy it. Because the work is the work, I would never change what the work is to get one or make something Oscar bait-y or any of that. So it as long as that is integral, what happens afterwards is is I I enjoy it. I find it fun. >> I would actually really like to see Martin McDonagh's version of an Oscar bait movie. >> Jesus Christ. >> What would that be? >> It'd be called The Orphan of Inisherin. >> Who's going to play it? >> Um >> Timothée Chalamet.

>> There you go. Look at that. >> Hang on. He He doesn't win though. So hang on. Then no, I got to go. Anyway. >> No, but by the time he does your movie, he'll be he'll be due one. It's all about the the timing the long game. Yeah. Yeah. >> But what you know, when we were talking about how your younger self would view your older self, you know, uh or or what the younger you might question about the contemporary you, you said um you know, maybe you should be doing more to help uh the things that you care about. But then you kind of landed on you know, probably making art is what you can do to help. And it actually made me think a little bit about um a scene in Wild Horse 9 where John Malkovich's character is Actually, maybe there's two scenes where where this occurs is talking to to a young left-wing student about going on a march. And he's you know, so uh sort of cynically sarcastic about you know, what do you expect to accomplish going on a march, you know? It's like the thing that accomplishes your goals is violence, basically guns, power. Uh and I could imagine that the Malkovich character is even more cynical about the possibility of art changing anything or changing the world.

>> Oh god, yeah. >> Um but who who in your heart, who do you think is closer to the truth? You or him? >> Ooh. Ooh. I think art has changed things. But, I think murder has probably changed a lot more things. That's a terribly bleak thing to say. Terribly bleak answer. >> Yeah. >> But, I uh I'm going to murder anyone, so I've got to keep playing on. >> You know, I was also thinking about why I was feeling so pessimistic about, you know, the possibilities of of art. I think to it like do I Is that actually how I feel about it? And And thinking about that, and then I realized that I think the powerful counter argument is actually already in your film.

And that's uh Victor Jara, who uh you know, a Chilean activist folk singer who was targeted and killed by the Pinochet regime. And I thought, well, you know, if the Pinochet regime didn't think it mattered, they probably would have left that guy alone. >> Totally. Totally. Um and the Pinochet regime is gone, and we still have his songs. So, that's something. In terms of like changing the world, can can art change it? All of the art we've seen, all the films we've loved, all the paintings, you know, they have changed the world cuz they're in it, you know? They might not have changed things politically, but this world is better cuz of the poems we love and and the books we love and the films we adore. So, that is it's not some wishy-washy it's going to change it's going to affect Trump or or society necessarily, but it is a new piece of beautiful art or beautiful whatever um that's out there. And I think that is always hopeful.

>> Martin, I I really very much appreciated talking with you. So, thank you for the time. >> This really has felt like a proper therapy session, David. I'm going to I feel changed. I'm not sure if I I'm not sure if I No, I'm not sure if I like it. Cuz I I liked myself before I came in. Now I like I'm I'm not doing enough to help. And uh and blah blah blah. Anyway, no, I've loved it. >> That's Martin McDonagh. His new movie, Wild Horse 9, is in theaters November 6th. To watch this interview and many others, you can subscribe to our YouTube channel at Interview Podcast. This conversation was produced by Seth Kelly. It was edited by John Woo, mixing by Sophia Landman. Original music by Dan Powell and Mary Lozano. Photography by Philip Montgomery. The rest of the team is Priya Matthew, Wyatt Orm, Paola Newdorf, Maya Tepler, Rachel Whittaker, Gabby Contreras, and Catalina Bryan. Our executive producer is Allison Benedict. I'm David Marchese, and this is The Interview from The New York Times.