Miloš Forman

Vincent Zuffante/Star File

Milo Forman
Czech motion-picture director Milo Forman had already established a reputation in his native land before he fled to the United
States after the 1968 Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. His 1975 film One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest won five academy awards
that year. His 1984 film Amadeus won Academy Awards for best picture and best director that year.

(1932- )

Czechoslovakian motion-picture director, best known for his ironic comedies and literary
adaptations. Born in Čáslav, Forman was orphaned at the age of ten, after both of his
parents were killed in Nazi concentration camps. He studied at the University of Prague
and at FAMU, Prague’s prestigious film school. An influential director in
Czechoslovakia during the 1960s, Forman played a significant role in developing the
Czech New Wave, a cinema movement characterized by psychological character studies
and by social or political themes. Following the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in
1968 (see Czechoslovakia: The Prague Spring), Forman immigrated to the United States,
where he directed several internationally acclaimed films.

Forman began his film career as a screenwriter, contributing the script for Dĕdeek
automobil (Old Man Automobile, 1956) by Czech director Alfréd Radók. Forman
apprenticed with Radók’s Laterna Magika (Magic Lantern), a mixed-media performance
troupe, until he directed his first film, Konkurs (variously translated as Talent
Competition, Competition, and Audition, 1963), released in Czech. He came to
international prominence with Cerny Petr (1964; Black Peter), a lighthearted comedy that
won the top prize at the Locarno Film Festival in Switzerland. He had further critical and
commercial success with his subsequent Czech films, Lasky jedne plavovlasky (1965;
also released as Loves of a Blonde) and Hori, ma panenko (1967; also released as The
Firemen’s Ball).

Forman’s first American film was Taking Off (1971), a comedy about the generation gap
between a runaway girl and her parents. His breakthrough film with American audiences
was One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975), an adaptation of the harrowing novel
about an insane asylum by American writer Ken Kesey. The film won all five of the top
Academy Awards, including Oscars for best director and best picture. Forman followed
this triumph with a successful film version of Hair (1979), a stage musical about
American counterculture youth during the 1960s. Forman’s later films include the literary
adaptations Ragtime (1981), based on the novel by American writer E. L. Doctorow, and
Valmont (1989), a film version of the novel Les liaisons dangereuses (1782; translated as
Dangerous Liaisons, 1784) by French writer Pierre Choderlos de Laclos. Forman also
won Academy Awards for best director and best picture for his film Amadeus (1984),
based on the play by British dramatist Peter Shaffer about the life of Austrian composer
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. In 1996 Forman was nominated for an Academy Award as
best director for The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996), which portrayed the life of Larry
Flynt, the controversial owner and publisher of the magazine Hustler.

Interview with Milos Forman

Cineaste writer Richard Porton interviewed Czech filmmaker Milo Forman in November 1996, shortly after the
release of The People vs. Larry Flynt, Forman’s controversial film about the American pornographer and publisher of
Hustler magazine. Although Forman made a number of films in Czechoslovakia before immigrating to the United
States, he is best known for his award-winning American films, including One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975),
Hair (1979), and Amadeus (1984). In his introduction, Porton quoted Forman as having said that “all that is significant
in contemporary art … concerns itself with injuries and injustices perpetrated against the individual.”

An Interview with Milo Forman

by Richard Porton

Cineaste: …Was it a relief to work on a film which was not an adaptation of a novel or play, given the fact that critics
and audiences often compare these movies to the original source and authors feel possessive about their work? For
example, didn’t Ken Kesey [author of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest] give you a hard time during the filming of
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?

Forman: I never met Ken Kesey, but I respected him very much. When I joined the project, the producers and Kesey
were no longer on speaking terms. As much as I admired Kesey, I think he was wrong. I read a script that he wanted
filmed. It was not really a screenplay, but another version of the book. From what I was told, Kesey not only wanted to
write the screenplay but also wanted to direct the film and play McMurphy [the lead character, played by Jack
Nicholson]. I was a little confused.

I was also a little nervous with Larry Flynt, because little changes are made when the actors come in and the locations
are found. I am not trying to rebuild reality so it fits the screenplay. If the screenplay doesn’t fit reality, I want to
rebuild the screenplay. I was afraid about the authors’ reaction, but they were very open to changes.

Cineaste: Unlike many scripts, it reads very well on its own.

Forman: The script is wonderful. When I joined the project and learned how much material the writers had gathered, I
realized it could have been ten movies—a whole life. To sift through it and find a structure was a challenge. It’s not an
ordinary, boring biopic, stuttering from one episode to another. They really built an ingenious structure. Even if I
changed the names and it was not about Larry Flynt, it would still be a wonderful screenplay.

Cineaste: How [did] your collaboration with the screenwriters shape the final film?

Forman: It was a wonderful collaboration and they felt that I genuinely liked their work. They didn’t consider me an
enemy. We worked first on cutting it down to a reasonable length. The script was good, but it was overwritten. That’s
fine, because you have something to work with. So we worked together on the final structure, shrinking the story
slightly. The whole script would have been a three-hour film.
Before I start shooting, I always like to act out the whole script with myself and somebody else playing all the parts.
The writers played this ping pong with me. We went through the script so we could say aloud the lines and hear if they
sounded right and rang true.

Even during the shooting, I discovered that Woody Harrelson [who played Larry Flynt], Courtney Love [who played
Flynt’s fourth wife, Althea Leasure], and Edward Norton [who played Flynt’s lawyer, Alan Isaacman] all had this rare
talent for improvisation. After they learned the lines by heart, I started to encourage improvisations. I respected the
writers so much that I always called them and told them what was happening and how improvisation affected the scene.
This helped convince them that the writers and the director are a team, coauthors and not adversaries.

Cineaste: Perhaps it helped that you were originally a screenwriter yourself.

Forman: That’s correct. I have enormous respect for writers because I started as a screenwriter and I know how it feels
when you spend weeks and weeks on something and then, without much responsible stream of thought, somebody else
starts changing things around and then blames the author if it doesn’t work.

Cineaste: According to what I read, your major disagreement with the authors concerned an elaborate fantasy
sequence which featured Flynt’s ‘born again’ conversion.

Forman: Yes. If you told me that you had a vision and that you converted to God, I would believe you, although
perhaps with reservations. But if you start telling me something that is totally beyond my imagination—how Jesus
Christ appeared to you, as well as [the late American comedian] Lenny Bruce and some other characters—then I’d
think that you were on some kind of acid trip. That’s why I suggested that they try to give hints of this conversion in
some visual way, without trying to convince the audience that Larry Flynt really saw Jesus Christ and Lenny Bruce and
other characters. So that was one thing. The other thing was probably a lesson I learned when dodging the censors in
Communist countries. I learned not to put labels on the characters by saying, “This is a good guy, this is a bad guy”—
the socialist realist approach. Together, we just toned down the extremes, so the characters would become more
nuanced.

Cineaste: How much of the script was shot and then discarded?

Forman: There are certain scenes which were shot but are not in the film because of dramatic structure. The character
of Dick Gregory just didn’t contribute anything to the narrative, for example, so it didn’t make any sense to keep him
or the scenes featuring Larry Flynt running for President. Those scenes were shot and I liked them very much, they’re
very funny, but all the antics Larry Flynt performed paled in comparison to the fact that he was running for President. It
didn’t have any payoff. Audiences would have assumed that this was the nitty gritty of the comedy or tragedy, and
nothing really happened—it fizzled. Those scenes went out, because they made the film stutter and made it long. That
was very disappointing when I was putting the film together, but it was entirely my decision, not because of pressure
from the studio.

Cineaste: I gather that you’ve been improvising with actors since you first started making films in Czechoslovakia. Are
you continuing the techniques you pioneered with those early films?

Forman: It worked for me then, that’s why I’m trying to make it work for me here. And it already has—certain parts of
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest were improvised, like the first meeting with the superintendent and McMurphy.
Since it worked wonderfully, I felt encouraged to try it again. Courtney, Woody, and Edward showed incredible talent.
It’s not very often that an actor can, with the same credibility, memorize the lines from the script and then improvise—
not as an actor, not as Woody or Courtney or Ed—but as the character.
Cineaste: Valmont [1989], on the other hand, seemed to employ a very tight script which allowed little room for
improvisation.

Forman: Yes, this film was very different from Valmont or Amadeus, although even in those films I tried to make the
language more comfortable to today’s ear. Still, the language is slightly different. It was eighteenth-century language
and that’s very difficult for anybody to improvise.

Cineaste: That brings us to the casting of the film, something you always seem to regard as a very important task.

Forman: Casting is the most important element because, after all, that’s what the audience sees on the screen, and
these are the people I’m asking the audience to believe. To cast right is, for me, ninety percent of directing. If I cast
right, I can work less.

Cineaste: You’ve continued the practice of mixing professionals with nonprofessionals that you began with your Czech
films.

Forman: Yes, especially in this case. I always try to cast people who I think will bring some sort of electricity to the
set which helps everybody else. For example, when we have Donna Hanover Giuliani [wife of New York City Mayor
Rudolph W. Giuliani], New York City’s First Lady, playing Ruth Carter Stapleton, everybody is excited. “That’s Mrs.
Giuliani, that’s great.” Everybody works better. The same thing was true with [American Democratic political advisor]
James Carville and D’Army Bailey, the legendary judge from Memphis. It was also very exciting for people to have
Larry Flynt playing a judge. That was one of the reasons to opt for nonprofessional actors.

Cineaste: Does this interest in using nonprofessionals come from your early interest in neo-realist films such as Il
Posto [Italy, 1961]?

Forman: In Czechoslovakia, we weren’t reacting to the films made by Hollywood directors such as Ford and Wilder.
We were responding to the stupid and phony films that the Communist Party was asking for. This thirst for credibility
was a response to that phoniness.

Cineaste: Is it true that Czech President Vaclav Havel was instrumental in choosing Courtney Love for the role of
Althea Leasure?

Forman: Well, I wouldn’t say instrumental. Now, after the fact, everything seems to have been easy. I go through
insecurities and doubts when I’m making these decisions, so what I like to do, when I confront crucial questions like
casting the main characters, is to make screen tests and then show them to my closest friends and ask for their opinions.
In the case of Althea Leasure, I had three candidates, three young ladies who were equally wonderful and each very
different. Although, my heart was already going for Courtney Love—Rachel Griffiths and Georgina Cates were the
others—I was not sure that I was making the right decision, that maybe I was seduced by her personality, not her
professional ability. I showed these screen tests to a few people, including Havel, and I was very happy that he
enthusiastically voted for Courtney Love.

Cineaste: Although she didn’t have much experience as an actress, she apparently immersed herself in the role and
greatly identified with this character.

Forman: Courtney is probably the most fascinating young lady I ever worked with. It’s not just that she imposed her
own personality on the script, she also did an incredible amount of homework, and it shows. She saw every single TV
clip of Althea ever shot. She met with many people who knew Althea when she was alive. Her personality blends and
is transformed by Althea’s so perfectly that you don’t see the seams.
Cineaste: One noteworthy thing about this film is the cinematography by Philippe Rousselot, while many of your
previous films, both in the U.S. and Czechoslovakia, were shot by Miroslav Ondricek. What was the look you were
aiming for?

Forman: When I was preparing this film, Ondricek was already signed to do another film, so I couldn’t use him. I
didn’t know that the man who shot A River Runs Through It was a French guy. I just liked the look of that film, the
simplicity, tastefulness, and cinematic vision.

I only require two things from a cameraman: the colors must be right—black must really be black and not gray—and
human flesh must look like human flesh. The faces should not be red or yellow. It’s not very easy for a cameraman to
achieve that, but everything falls into place if he does. Something you can’t really discuss very precisely is the fact that
the cameraman has to know at every moment what you are trying to convey to the audience. It’s difficult to tell him
how to light, but it’s very important that he knows that one scene is supposed to be dramatic and others are supposed to
be funny or lyrical. Philippe was very sensitive to all of these things. The whole film suffers when you don’t have a
good relationship with a cameraman. The actors subconsciously feel the tension.

Cineaste: It’s intriguing that, although Larry Flynt is a well-known figure, he almost becomes something like a
fictional antihero—not unlike, say, McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Forman: I would rather compare him to Mozart in Amadeus, because that film had the same sort of surprises and
problems. In the case of Mozart, I knew only half of his personality, which was very boring. All I learned about Mozart
at school was that he was an obedient little boy, a prodigy at school, composing this divine music and being well above
the nastiness of human character: a role model put on a pedestal garbed in marble. This made him so boring that even
his music became less interesting. Suddenly, when I read the play, I asked Peter Shaffer—“Is this true?” And he said,
“Read Mozart’s letters.” Then I discovered that this genius had a second half that was much less admirable, but was
much more flamboyant and childlike, even vulgar and obnoxious. The fact that the sale of classical music records rose
one thousand per cent all over the world after the film was released proves that showing this man not as a one-
dimensional angel, but as a full-blooded human being with all his pros and cons, helped enormously to popularize
what’s good about Mozart—his music.

I went through the same process, but in reverse, with Larry Flynt. I knew only the sleazy side of Flynt, but I knew
nothing else about him. When I finally read the script, my first question to the authors was also, “Is it true?” They said
it was, and this was confirmed when I started to read articles about him. So all I did was to add the other half to this
personality who lived only in a sleazy world. I discovered there was a second half to his personality that was admirable,
almost noble, and that’s what makes him interesting.

Cineaste: You’ve often said that you’re more interested in characters who are ambiguous, neither heroes nor villains.

Forman: If someone is a clear-cut angel or a clear-cut devil, what else can you add that is interesting? But if you learn
that this angel has a devil’s hoof, that really arouses your interest and curiosity and confusion. It’s interesting to deal
with such a character, because if you discover that the devil is growing at least one angel’s wing, it’s suddenly so
confusing that it’s fascinating.

Cineaste: How extensive was Flynt’s cooperation with the project?

Forman: He didn’t have the right to veto anything in the script or interfere with the production. But I wanted to meet
with Larry Flynt. First of all, as a courtesy, because I’m making a film about him. If someone was making a film about
you, you’d want to know the details. Secondly, I wanted him to tell me all the factual mistakes that might have been in
the script—places, dates, things like that—because I didn’t want, in case the film should anger him, to give him any
reason to attack us by saying something wasn’t true.
We had a long, eight-hour script conference to which he came prepared as I never saw any actor prepared. Every page
had meticulous notes. He didn’t try to influence anything, even though he said that there was a lot in the script that was
very embarrassing for him. But I said, “Well, if it’s true, what can I say?” And he said to me, “Even if there are things
in the script that I didn’t say, if I could have said them, I have no objection at all. I’ll object only if I think that I never
would have said that.” What happened after that was more amazing. He occasionally said to me, “I wouldn’t say it like
that.” But when I’d insist that what was included in the script was better, more to the point or funnier, he’d reply,
“You’re the director, it’s your responsibility, you do want you want.” That was a great attitude.

Cineaste: Were you attracted to the project because of your own experience with censorship under a Stalinist regime?

Forman: Definitely, because I lived for a long time in a society where censorship was strong. And I know the
devastating effect it has on the quality of life, not only for artists but for the entire society. With censorship, as I
experienced it, life becomes very boring and society very cruel. There is no way you can talk about anything which the
government doesn’t want you to discuss.…

Cineaste: Would you ever consider going back to Czechoslovakia to make a film?

Forman: No. This is the best country in the world to make a film and I’m spoiled. To go back there and visit friends,
yes; to work, no….

Cineaste: Why do you think there was such an explosion of talent in Czechoslovakia during the Sixties?

Forman: I finished film school in 1955. Before the war, Czech cinema was producing thirty or forty full-length
features, a lot for a country of ten million people. In the Fifties and early Sixties, when the film school was producing
new graduates, there was no work for us for several years because production dwindled to two or three full-length
features a year. When Khrushchev denounced Stalin and produced the famous thaw, the door suddenly opened a crack.
There were so many standing people before that crack that we just burst in, and it took an invasion of Russian soldiers
to crush this rejuvenation of Czech society. I did not believe it was possible to reform Communism and have socialism
with a human face. But we could at least use a certain relaxation and we did.

Cineaste: You were already here in the U.S., weren’t you, when the Soviet invasion took place?

Forman: At that moment I was in Paris, but I was already, with the permission of my government, working on Taking
Off [1971], my first American project. I couldn’t really function as a writer in a language I don’t fully understand. I like
that film, but I understand why the audience really didn’t like it. It was a very European film, an open-ended story. The
American audience wanted to know what it was all about.

Cineaste: Your current film seems to have contributed to the rehabilitation of Larry Flynt’s reputation.

Forman: I already explained to various people that if they have a different opinion of Larry Flynt after seeing the film,
I don’t necessarily want them to have a different opinion of Hustler magazine. I never bought a copy of Hustler in my
life. I don’t particularly like it. I think it’s tasteless. But it’s very important for him to be able to publish it, and for
whoever who wants to read it to have the opportunity to buy it. It shouldn’t be banned. That’s censorship, and once that
starts you never know where it will end.

Source: Copyright © 1998 by Cineaste Publishing, Inc. Reprinted by permission from The Cineaste Interviews II: On
the Art and Politics of the Cinema. Crowdus, Gary and Dan Georgakas, eds. Chicago: Lake View Press, 1998.