AFF Interview: Harris Goldberg

Harris Goldberg has spent most of his screenwriting career penning successful, high-concept comedies like Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo and Without a Paddle. But these days, he's no longer interested in hammy, big-studio money machines.

In 2006, after a long struggle with an unusual psychological disorder called "Depersonalization", Harris decided, for the first time in his life, to write something personal. His directorial debut, Numb is being billed as a "semi-autobiographical" film--but in reality it's a wholly autobiographical account of his battle with Depersonalization and its bizarre effect on his life.

The film--which stars Matthew Perry, Kevin Pollak and Mary Steenburgen--will have its regional premiere at the Austin Film Festival this coming Friday, and we recently had a chance to chat with Harris about writing, directing, and perpetual states of anxiety.

[Your hometown of Hamilton Ontario] is a long way from Hollywood. How did you make that move initially?

Well, I have an older brother Danny, who’s eleven years older, and he had partnered up with Ivan Reitman when they were teenagers. They did Meatballs and Stripes and all of those movies, and they got into the film business pretty early. I had a lot of the Second City guys living within blocks of my house, so it was a very fertile area to grow up in, and I kind of just followed them [to L.A.].

I had some early success in the studio system from a screenplay that I wrote, and I thought, “oh, this is easy! I should just keep doing this!” And I got a multi-picture deal at Disney. Little did I know that it was a very mercurial business at best. So I went through fifteen years of doing studios films before I decided that I had to do something kind of personal, and then I got onto the directing track.

When did you start the writing process for Numb?

I wrote it in early 2006. And I wrote it really fast—probably in six or seven weeks. It had been percolating for a long time, but I didn’t think I had the nerve to go and write it. I thought, “it’s too autobiographical, it’s too self-indulgent”, and I was so trained to do these bigger studio films that I thought no one would do [Numb]. But it was something I just had to do. It got to a point where there was just no going back, and it all came out.

It’s described as semi-autobiographical…but how autobiographical is it?

It’s completely autobiographical. Actually, scarily, terrifyingly autobiographical. It’s almost journalistic, actually. The story was actually fairly easy to write, and it was relatively cathartic.

I don’t think there’s anything in there that didn’t actually happen. And I think that’s why it’s resonating so much. I seem to get the same reaction every time, where people sort of tap into what’s going on with this character. I think with all the stress of what’s going on—Blackberrys and cell phones and things—more and more people are developing anxiety disorders and panicked reactions, and they don’t know what to do, and it’s hitting them hard. I get calls form all over the place, looking for advice. And I have to say, “well, I’m not a therapist—this is just something that happened to me”.

This condition [Depersonalization] is something that I haven’t really heard much about. Is it a rare thing?

Yeah, I think it is. It’s really an offshoot of anxiety disorder. Some people get chronic heart palpitations, some people might get chronic headaches or migraines, and others might get panic attacks. And for me, I think I’d been building up a lot of stress over a period of years where I was working nonstop. And I had a sort of fear of stopping—like if I stopped, everything would end. And I think that came from my predisposition for anxiety.

I think when I smoked [some pot], it triggered my first anxiety attack, and my body went into this chronic state of “flight”, like in a “fight or flight” reaction. Your adrenaline system gets all out of whack, and even though you’re not in any real danger, your body is perceiving everything that way, and you’re sort of on overload. You’re in a constant state of detachment, like you’re watching a movie—and that happens to everybody at one time or another, but it usually only lasts for a minute or a few minutes. But I had it chronically. And I didn’t know what it was. It was a nightmare.

The more research I did, I found that there was very, very little information on it. But over time I found out what it was and what they know about it. But for a lot of people—and there are thousands and thousands—they don’t know what it is, and they start to panic about it. And just like a panic attack, once it starts, it feeds on itself in a sort of spiral.

That sounds terrifying.

It’s pretty uncomfortable, I have to say. And also, no one knew I had it! My partner Tom would get me up for like fifteen minutes to go in there and do the job of selling a movie, and I’d come home and just crash because I couldn’t deal with it. So for the first while it was brutal.

You’re in a constant state of detachment, like you’re watching a movie—and that happens to everyone at one time or another, but it usually only lasts for a minute or a few minutes. But I had it chronically. And I didn’t know what it was. It was a nightmare.
I’d imagine that being in Los Angeles and doing the job that you do would be the worst position to be in if you has that kind of disorder. Do you think that LA is a place that makes people uncomfortable or crazy?

I think LA is an extremely uncomfortable place. I know it’s a generalization, but it’s true. It’s so hard here. And you really have to be able to take rejection well, because there are two modes here—either you’re really successful and you hit it, or you completely blow it. You’re only as good as your last project, and you’re always on a tightrope. If you put any kind of self worth into what you do, you’re in danger here. I’ve been on projects where I’ve written a great draft and I’m the absolute hero—then three drafts later, when you get notes and makes changes and it’s no longer as good as the first draft, you’re suddenly the goat. And people go, “what happened?” So you start constantly questioning your talent. You’re working by committee most of the time, and it’s very very stressful.

I have a lot of friends who, after seeing the movie, have called me and said, “I have this thing too! What do I do?”

But yes… I think LA is an extremely stressful place to live and work, and I think it’s only getting worse. It isn’t the best place to write or create—it’s more of a deal-making place at this point.

When you’ve been taking this movie around screening it—because it’s so personal—are you paying more attention to the audience response than you would be with one of your comedies?

Yeah. I think so. With the comedies, there is a machine behind it, and it’s all about making the dollars in the first couple of weekends. You want the film to be good, but it’s more about, “is this going to bring in the bucks on that first weekend?”

But with this film, it’s so personal that it’s like I’m up there on the screen. I’ve seen it about fifteen times now with an audience, and I’ve actually quantified their reaction to it. The same laughter comes at the same spot, the same emotional response comes at certain parts. And that’s very satisfying because it is a small picture. But afterwards, the most satisfying thing is when the entire audience stays, and they all ask questions. That half hour is the most satisfying thing for me.

Do you generally enjoy the festival circuit? Brining the film around and talking to people about it?

I love it. Because I think that it helps people, and that it resonates.

You know… films come out, and if they make a lot of money, they’re considered successful. Even if the reviews are terrible or people don’t like it or whatever, it’s still considered a successful film. But if you make a film that really resonates with people, and it sticks with them and they keep talking about it…I mean, I get letters from people where three or four weeks later, they’re still thinking about the film. It sticks in their mind. So they send me emails and they ask questions—and that’s because of the festival circuit. I just love it. I love the interaction with filmgoers, and I think it’s a really safe, conducive place to show films.

Now that you’ve written something so much more dramatic and had this experience directing Numb—I don’t want to ask “which one do you like better”, but do you see yourself going back to comedic writing?

Well, that’s actually a good question, because I have two films that I could do right now that hearken back to the bigger, broader comedies… and I just don’t want to do them. I feel like I’m on a track now of doing these quirky, personal films, and I think I’ve found this little voice that I really get and understand now, which has taken me twenty years to nail. So to go back now and do the bigger comedies--which come a lot easier for me, to be honest! It was always easier for me to write comedies, probably because I used it as a defense mechanism growing up. But I just don’t have that passion to want to do those as much as something that’s funny, but yet that people really dig. You know?

Is the directing experience more rewarding than the writing experience?

Yes. I love directing. But not from an ego standpoint—I just love working with actors. It’s so immediate. And it’s tremendously hard, because you have 150 people coming at you with a thousand questions, and you can’t go to somebody else and say “what do I do?” You have to literally make that decision right then, whether it’s right or wrong.

To shoot a scene and then see it that afternoon is extremely satisfying. Whereas writing is a very lonely, solitary thing. You’re by yourself, there’s no feedback, and you start to question whether it’s any good. So I like the physicality of directing—of being on the set and interacting with actors and trying to get out of them stuff that they don’t think they can do. And then they see themselves [in the role] and think, oh my god!“ And that’s a very satisfying feeling. I can’t wait to get behind the camera again.

Numb has a really great cast. Did you know Matthew Perry before you started working on the project? I noticed that he’s a producer on the film.

I think he’s an executive producer…I’m not sure. But, no—when I wrote it, I didn’t even think of Matthew. I didn’t watch "Friends" very much—I think I’d only watched a couple episodes. But I got a call from him at home, and he said, “I just read your script, and I have to meet you. Right now.” So I met him at this restaurant, and I think we were both a bit nervous. But he started telling me about his life and why he wanted to do the part and how he identified with it, and the highs and lows he had gone through. And by the end of three hours or so, I thought, “God, this guy’s in a really good place to do this.” He was going to do Studio 60 in eight or nine weeks, but I thought, “if I can get this performance out of him, this could be really cool”, as opposed to going with someone who was a little more on the nose. So it just seemed to be right, and I was really proud of him. He did a really great job, and gave a very contained performance.

Matthew's the kind of guy who—for him, it’s so easy to go to that comedic, very funny place. If you were with him right now, he’d have you on the floor he’s so funny. But I needed him not to do that. I needed him to step away from his bag of tricks and do something that he’d not done before. And I think it was hard for him. I just kept saying, “do less, do less, do less”, and he was saying, “but I’m not doing anything!” And I’d say, “yes you are”. Because he was overcompensating.

How did Mary Steenburgen get involved? She's so great.

Well, I’ve always been a huge fan of hers. And first of all, she’s very similar to the actual therapist that I had an affair with. So we got her the script, and she immediately said yes. And when I met her, I just completely fell in love with her. She was the most professional, fantastic person I could imagine having on the set. And we became really terrific friends afterward as well. She’s so easy to work with. When she was on the set I’d just have to make a gesture to her, and she’d just get it right away. We wouldn’t have to talk much… she was just great.

Have you ever been to Austin before?

No!

I think you’re going to enjoy it. And I think you’re going to enjoy the festival. Will you be here for a couple of days?

Yeah… I’m on some panels and stuff. And I’m going to try and catch Juno. The guy who shot Numb shot Juno as well. Eric Steelberg. And I’ve known Jason [Reitman] for a long time, so I’m really excited about it.

** Numb screens Friday October 12th, 10:00pm at the Paramount Theatre as part of the Austin Film Festival

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Comments (5) [rss]

I have to see this. Great interview as always matt-

This is a great article.
I am in England so I can't see this movie yet but I am looking forward to seeing how well it does at this festival. I really need Numb to come to England as I am a huge Matthew Perry fan.


Tremendous thank you. I also suffer from this (onset also after bad mj trip).This guys ten years down the road, though. and seems to be well. = hope.

If the place is packedwith pass holders, wil it screen again? go to video?forgive the AFF ignorance.


I'm adding it to my must see list...I'm assuming he'll be in attendance.

Apparently Harris Goldberg will be there. I don't think Matthew Perry will be there as he is hosting the Lili Claire charity event in LA the day after the screening of Numb.

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