Im Rah­men des Ham­bur­ger Film­fes­ti­vals habe ich mich mit Bart Van Den Bempt unter­hal­ten, der dort sei­nen berüh­ren­den Film «82 Days in April» zeig­te. Das Inter­view wur­de in einer kür­ze­ren Ver­si­on auf Nisima­zi­ne ver­öf­fent­licht und ist daher kom­plett auf Englisch.
Bart Van Den Bempt is an unli­kely first time direc­tor. After his gra­dua­ti­on he wai­ted for 20 years until he pre­sen­ted his debut fea­ture. I sat down with the very calm and thoughtful Bel­gi­an during the Film­fest Ham­burg to dis­cuss his film “82 Days in April” and was curious why he wai­ted for such a long time to crawl out of his shell. 
Hel­lo Bart, I was at the audi­ence scree­ning of your film and you were also the­re. I won­de­red if you just arri­ved in the end or if you have wat­ched your who­le movie?
I was the­re in the begin­ning and at the end.
Well, do you like the scree­ning situation?
I am hap­py that the film is now shown to public. We had our world pre­miè­re just four weeks ago at the Mon­tré­al Film­fes­ti­val and that was the first time it was shown with an audi­ence and for me that was very nice. It is just a dif­fe­rent vibe. You tend to be fed up with your own film during the editing pro­cess. It is a dif­fe­rent expe­ri­ence when you are wat­ching it with peo­p­le who are loo­king at it for the first time. So, I enjoy­ed that a lot. In Mon­tré­al I atten­ded three of the four scree­nings of our film. Here, in Ham­burg I stay­ed for the first twen­ty minu­tes. It is inte­res­t­ing to check in a way if the audi­ence responds like I have ima­gi­ned. My film is a very serious film but still the­re are some ligh­ter moments and it’s always nice to hear when they pick that up. When I hear that the audi­ence laughs with the tiny litt­le jokes, then I am hap­py and then I can lea­ve after­wards and come back for the last twen­ty minutes.
The sto­ry of your films takes place in Tur­key. Why?
Ori­gi­nal­ly I had the idea on a flight back from Kir­giz­stan to Brussels. I just spent four nice weeks in Kir­giz­stan and it was a rather hor­ri­ble flight back. So during that flight I was ima­gi­ning that we were going to crash and I tried to ima­gi­ne how my par­ents would cope with that. I came up with the idea that they would go to Kir­giz­stan and retrace my foot­s­teps the­re and make this a ritu­al jour­ney. That was the begin­ning of “82 Days in April”. But Kir­giz­stan alt­hough in my opi­ni­on it is the most beau­tiful coun­try on earth, it is not the most prac­ti­ca­ble coun­try. At that time the­re was no film infra­struc­tu­re whatsoe­ver, the­re were hard­ly any decent roads. So, my pro­du­cer didn’t think it was a good idea to shoot it the­re. Tur­key was a very obvious alter­na­ti­ve becau­se I have been tra­vel­ling this coun­try a lot after gra­dua­ting as a film stu­dent. Actual­ly one of the first count­ries I visi­ted as a back­pack stu­dent was Tur­key. That was back in 1988 and it was a very dif­fe­rent coun­try than it is now. Any­way, I tra­vel­led a lot in the Midd­le East, Cau­ca­sus and Midd­le Asia and I always had the roman­tic idea that you should not take an air­plane and this is why I always came back across Tur­key and I know that coun­try quite well. Moreo­ver it has a film indus­try, it has a film histo­ry, and it has got pro­duc­tion com­pa­nies, crews and stuff. Bes­i­des it has diver­se land­scapes as well. May­be they are not as wild as in Kir­giz­stan but still they are very inte­res­t­ing and it was mana­geable to shoot the­re. Ano­ther good thing for me was that I knew all the places in my head. So, when I was wri­ting the script I didn’t have to do much rese­arch, I just knew the places I was wri­ting about. I could place all the sce­nes in par­ti­cu­lar are­as of Tur­key. That is important becau­se for me the places and also the cli­ma­te can be seen as a meta­phor for the cha­rac­ters in the film. It beg­ins all in win­ter and it warms up until the end when the par­ents get clo­ser to each other.
Tur­ki­sh land­scapes ser­ving as a meta­phor for the peo­p­le and their sto­ry reminds me a lot about the films of Nuri Bil­ge Cey­lan, espe­ci­al­ly “Cli­ma­tes”. Are you fami­li­ar with his films and Tur­ki­sh cine­ma in general?
Yes, I am fami­li­ar with Tur­ki­sh cine­ma but I haven’t seen that one…well, I might have seen it.
May­be tho­se simi­la­ri­ties come natu­ral­ly when you are shoo­ting in Turkey?
Yes, I think the imagery in Tur­key sort of comes to you. When I tal­ked with my DoP Rick Zang about the film in pre­pa­ra­ti­on we were loo­king for this visu­al lan­guage we wan­ted to use and we never refer­red to films. Our start­ing point was pho­to­gra­phy. We had a huge coll­ec­tion of ide­as and plans but then at the same time we deci­ded not to use this plans to actively. We just kept it as sort of a back­up. We just wan­ted to go to all the­se loca­ti­ons and see what was going to hap­pen the­re. Nevert­hel­ess we had to go through this pre­pa­ra­ti­on in order to find a com­mon lan­guage. This way we could com­mu­ni­ca­te on the set in just three words which was very important becau­se we shot low-bud­get, of cour­se, and didn’t have much time. So, the visu­al lan­guage we crea­ted had to tell some­thing about the psy­che of the cha­rac­ters. What we tried to do is to catch their con­fu­si­on in our images. May­be you have noti­ces that the­re are hard­ly any wide shots of land­scapes in-focus in the begin­ning of the movie becau­se they are not the­re as tou­rists, they are impri­so­ned in their own litt­le world. The more they tra­vel, the more the images open up, the wider the len­ses we used. And it all ends in this wide end shot whe­re you can final­ly see the world as if they were waking up again or some­thing like that. That was more or less the visu­al idea.
Yeah, in terms of cine­ma­to­gra­phy I real­ly enjoy­ed the movie. Your use of the cine­ma­scope-for­mat is out­stan­ding. One can almost feel the absence of some­thing. Was cine­ma­scope the for­mat you wan­ted to use from the very beginning?
Yes, I always wan­ted it in cine­ma­scope even when I was wri­ting the script. The film was shot on Ale­xa and we wan­ted to com­pen­sa­te the digi­tal look. So, we used the­se Rus­si­an ana­mo­r­phic len­ses from the 1970s. Our DoP just found them some­whe­re. And they are gre­at. They have this soft­ness and a small dis­tor­ti­on. Befo­re the film I didn’t know about tho­se len­ses. I was very hap­py that Rick Zang came up with them. Cine­ma­scope beca­me part of our visu­al lan­guage. For me that is what cine­ma is all about, it is not just regis­tering things but adding some­thing to reality.
I par­ti­cu­lar­ly enjoy­ed tho­se POV-mood shots, out of focus, not real­ly tel­ling some­thing, just giving a fee­ling like glim­p­ses of feet on the flo­or and so on. How did you come up with them?
We had the idea befo­re but we just went for them on loca­ti­on wit­hout a sto­ry­board or any­thing like that. We had just an abs­tract idea of it. And the pho­to­graphs we loo­ked at in pre-pro­duc­tion were our com­mon memo­ry. Usual­ly we first shot the sce­ne with hard­ly any art direc­tion, with no elec­tri­cal light sources, just available light. After we had the action and dia­lo­gues had been done Rick would stay in the room for 15 minu­tes and he would do all sorts of inserts and I would join him later and sug­gest some more. We ended up having this reser­voir of imagery. We had so much mate­ri­al that it was dif­fi­cult to make a choice. The fun­ny thing is that I now have a side pro­ject with the com­po­ser. He asked me to make a music video and as we have no bud­get we just use all the­se left inserts. Last week I sat down with an edi­tor and we had 2 hours and 40 minu­tes of the­se inserts. We have ple­nty of them to make more video clips. I am real­ly hap­py that they can be recycled
I would love to see Ter­rence Malick doing that.
Yeah, that would be great.
On a visu­al level the fee­lings trans­por­ted so well for me. Per­so­nal­ly, I would not have nee­ded the music; it almost feels like you are doubling the emo­ti­ons the­re. But after the scree­ning you said that the music speaks its own lan­guage. May­be you can say some­thing about that?
I am real­ly hap­py with the sound­track. The com­po­ser is Arve Hen­rik­sen, he is a Nor­we­gi­an trumpet play­er. He is a jazz play­er but he has his very own musi­cal lan­guage whe­re he ope­ra­tes some­whe­re bet­ween ambi­ent, jazz and elec­tro­nic music. I came across his music when I was wri­ting the first draft. I star­ted to buy some CDs of him and heard them while I was working. Sud­den­ly I rea­li­zed that the­re was some sort of inter­ac­tion bet­ween his music and my words. I began ima­gi­ning how it would be to use his music in my film. Then someone of pro­duc­tion cont­ac­ted him and he wan­ted to read the script and he was inte­res­ted. In the film we use a mix­tu­re of songs that were alre­a­dy released by him, new ver­si­ons of old songs and ori­gi­nal new mate­ri­al. His music is very ver­sa­ti­le; I had to nar­row it down a litt­le to keep it fit­ting. For me the music is an important aspect in the film. It rela­tes to the emo­ti­ons. Obvious­ly, you are sup­po­sed to feel what the cha­rac­ters are fee­ling. But it also refers to the absence of the son. In our visu­al approach we asked our­sel­ves: Whe­re is the son in the image? We had our own ans­wer for that and it doesn’t mat­ter if the audi­ence picks that up or not. For the music it is more or less the same. In the end of the mix I lowe­red the volu­me. My sound desi­gner Srd­jan Kurpjel he is used to big movies and he loves to play it big and loud. But I wan­ted it intro­s­pec­ti­ve, it is an intro­s­pec­ti­ve film. It see­med clear to us from the very begin­ning that it is not easy for a view­er to get into our sto­ry. The music plays an important role here; it sedu­ces you to get into the uni­ver­se of the par­ents. You can get lost with them.
Now, we can switch to the screen­play. Is it right you work­ed as a psychologist?
I never work­ed. That’s wrong infor­ma­ti­on in the offi­ci­al pro­gram. I just stu­di­ed and gra­dua­ted and right after gra­dua­ti­on I star­ted film school in Brussels. I never went back to psy­cho­lo­gy after that.
Does that back­ground help you while you are wri­ting a screenplay?
Pro­ba­b­ly, yes. I’m not real­ly awa­re of it and I don’t take out my notes of the uni­ver­si­ty. But I wan­ted to beco­me a psy­cho­lo­gist becau­se I think I have sen­si­ti­vi­ty towards peo­p­le or wha­te­ver. Pro­ba­b­ly I have that when I am on a set or when I am wri­ting, too. It’s just part of my personality.
I’ve read that after film school you did not make a film for 20 years. “82 Days of April” is your debut after a long, long time. Why?
You mean, what went wrong? (laughs)
Yeah, what went wrong? May­be it is not real­ly wrong to do that. I’ve read an inter­view with Andrzej Żuław­ski whe­re he was asked why he hasn’t made a film for years, and he just said: I was reflecting.
Yeah, that’s more or less it. I absor­bed. I remem­ber in the last year f film school one of the tea­chers asked us: How do you see your near future? And ever­yo­ne was like: Yeah, two short films in two years and then within three to five years a fea­ture film. And I just thought, well, they are ambi­tious. I just wan­ted to tra­vel. I star­ted tra­vel­ling during my stu­dies but it was rest­ric­ted becau­se I always had to go back to school. I wan­ted to tra­vel for a long time and just see what comes across my way. After gra­dua­ti­on I work­ed for a year in dis­co­the­ques and bars in order to make some money. Then I took off and star­ted tra­vel­ling around the world on a car­go ship​.It was a very important pha­se in my life. But at the same time, when I came back, I was out­side of ever­y­thing. Life had gone on wit­hout me. All my fel­low stu­dents had shot their short films. Some­ti­mes that can be hard. But I am well awa­re that I wouldn’t have made “82 Days in April” 15 years ago. I beca­me part­ner in a pro­duc­tion com­pa­ny in Ant­werp, they made com­mer­cials. I’ve done that for seven years and it was okay becau­se it all was exer­ci­s­es. You had to pro­du­ce one clip every two weeks. Moreo­ver the­re was a lot of money invol­ved. So you had all the­se pos­si­bi­li­ties finan­ci­al­ly. It was a very good school but in terms of con­tent it is the lowest of the lowest. So natu­ral­ly it was a strugg­le for me. I direc­ted about 100 com­mer­cials in seven years. I was fed up with it and quit­ted. I reo­ri­en­ted mys­elf and star­ted working for tele­vi­si­on. Rea­li­ty-TV, with peo­p­le buy­ing a new house and we were fol­lo­wing them and stuff. Not­hing real­ly exci­ting but it gave me time to start thin­king about and actual­ly wri­ting on “82 Days in April”. For the last two years I was focu­sing on this pro­ject only. I am hap­py how it came tog­e­ther, I took me quite some time but I guess my life just goes slow. That’s the pace of my life. I beca­me a father very late, we bought a house very late. I’m slow.
Is the­re a next project?
Yes, the­re is. We got wri­ting sub­si­dies to do a script. That script has been finis­hed more than a year ago. Then we appli­ed for deve­lo­p­ment fun­ding but the French offi­ci­als said we should first finish “82 Days in April” and then we’ll see. So, it’s in the pipe­line basi­cal­ly. In the mean­ti­me I am wri­ting on a TV-series with a good fri­end of mine and I love the pro­cess of that. I wro­te an ope­ning sce­ne and sent it to him, and then he wro­te the next sce­ne and sent it to me and so on. It’s like a ping-pong game. Once in a while we sit tog­e­ther and talk about the direc­tion we want to go. It’s a gre­at pro­cess that I enjoy very much. It’s full of sur­pri­ses; you try to impress each other.
Is that how you sur­vi­ve finan­ci­al­ly as a filmmaker? 
Well, tele­vi­si­on pays okay. You have to spend a lot of time and work hard but in the end you make as much many as if you were in adver­ti­se­ment. I make my money with that. But when you get sub­si­dies you can live from that while making a film. With “82 Days of April” I could stretch that peri­od to almost two years. On the other hand a lot of my inco­me went in the film, almost fif­ty per­cent. If I hadn’t done that I could have sur­vi­ved lon­ger from the sub­si­dies. But you have to com­bi­ne it with other things. That is the sad rea­li­ty of working in film.
My final ques­ti­on is about the title of the film, which I real­ly like. It is part of a love let­ter in the film. Whe­re did the title come from?
The title has always exis­ted in my head which is kind of stran­ge. It is a sen­tence I wro­te down twen­ty years ago. At that time it was “82 days in Janu­ary” (laughs). I have all this note­books with ide­as at home. Once in a while I brow­se through them and this litt­le sen­tence has always been in my mind.