The McCarthy Era

He sleazed his way into homes across the country as Scott Templeton on the electrifying fifth and final season of HBO’s “The Wire.” He changed the face of independent American cinema with his homespun tale of relationships lost and found in The Station Agent. And now, with The Visitor, writer-director Tom McCarthy is crossing the border into mainstream film. Sort of. As one might well guess, it’s a trip.

"Care for a moss ball?" asks Tom McCarthy, smiling, as he waves me over to the nearby couch in his suite at Manhattan's Regency hotel. He lobs the stupid sphere back and forth between hands, contemplating its absurdity, before tossing it back into a display bowl. The affable writer-director-actor is here to promote The Visitor, his return to the director's chair after 2003's critical treasure The Station Agent. To suggest that McCarthy's latest film is a near-perfect exploration of friendship and diversity would be saying too little. It stars Richard Jenkins of "Six Feet Under" fame as Walter Vale, an economics professor whose reticent malaise has eclipsed his passion for life. When coerced into speaking at a conference in New York, Vale packs his bags and returns to the Manhattan apartment he left years earlier. But there are now two illegal immigrants living in his place. What should then devolve into a logistical nightmare somehow blossoms, through music, into a series of unlikely friendships. A decidedly tragic film, The Visitor explores the lifelessly sanitized purgatory of immigration detention centers across America. It's also heartwarming at times, funny at others—which seems appropriate, given that its director, who is here to talk about his passion, can't seem to get his mind off those damn balls.

BLACKBOOK: There are quite a few Tom McCarthys out there. Apparently, you’ve been a Major League Baseball player, an English novelist, and a car expert.

TOM McCARTHY: I have a friend who I hadn’t spoken to in, like, seven years call me and say, “You did not write a book!” And I was like, Um, no, I didn’t. [Laughs.]

BB: You’ve been adamant that this isn’t a political film. I’m not sure I agree.

TM: I’m adamant about that because people are so quick to pigeonhole things—they one-line films. Also, more political-minded filmmakers would surely say, “Come on, take more of a stand on this. Where do you come down?” I think I’ve made a character movie, and immigration is part of its reality. The first time I walked into one of these detention centers, I was like, “Oh my God, what is this place?” It’s Orwellian. You open the door, and it’s like science fiction or a spy movie—not a pleasant feeling.

BB: The profiling that occurs in the subway scene can’t help but feel inherently racist. Walter certainly wouldn’t have been arrested, but Tarek, well, he’s Syrian.

TM: Racial profiling is now legal, and it was made legal in legislation under Dick Cheney’s guidance. And a lot of Americans don’t have any problem with that. It’s a civil liberties question. Again, do I think this a political movie? No. Do I think there are political elements to the movie? Certainly. I’m not afraid of being political. I know there will be people who say, “Oh, God, this is liberal propaganda about white guilt.” But you have to be willing to take your shots on that.

BB: I was struck by one line in the film, an implied joke about Americans who know nothing about Arab-Israeli conflict, or geography for that matter.

TM: You’re talking about the part during Zainab’s interaction with the blonde woman from the Upper West Side. [Zainab, a street vendor, tells one of her customers that she is from Senegal, to which the buyer replies that she loves Cape Town. A nearby Israeli vendor then jokes that an American once asked if he’d ever seen the Holy Land.] It’s meant to show that disconnect. And I do find that, at least geographically, Americans are ridiculously uninformed.

The Nation Agent: Tom McCarthy, above.

BB: Unfortunately, no one at the press screening laughed. It’s as if the joke proved itself.

TM: That bums me out. I understand you need press screenings, but go see the movie with an audience, because last night in Toronto, people just cracked up. People from other countries really get it. But even in Hollywood, especially in Hollywood, people were asking, “What about casting this actor?” And I was like, He’s Persian, and I need an Arab actor. And they were like, “What’s the difference?”

BB: You’ve worked with Michelle Williams and Patricia Clarkson both as an actor and as a director. No matter how collaborative your process is, there can’t help but be a shift in hierarchy when you become their boss.

TM: Sure, but good actors want to be directed, and they want to work with people they trust. And with Patty on George’s movie [Clooney’s Good Night and Good Luck], well, George has this amazing ability to make the set the most fun place in the world. You almost can’t believe you’re making a movie. And Michelle has been so smart about her career and about her choices, and from my perspective, has become a serious actress. And when I work as an actor with other directors, I like being directed. If I trust the director enough to work with him, I don’t care if he’s young or old, or whatever. As an actor, the last place you want to be is in your head, and that’s what sucks about working with directors you don’t trust—you’re always second-guessing them. As actors, we’re all good enough to pretend, but really good actors go deep. That’s why great actors don’t have to be the most intelligent or articulate people you meet, because their gift is to pretend.

BB: There’s a sense of impotence that permeates Walter’s experiences in this film.

TM: And therein lies a lot of Walter’s anguish. He’s a guy who has allowed himself to open up quite a bit by the end of film, only to realize that it’s not enough. When he’s freaking out at the detention center, who is he mad at and what’s that about? Is he upset about the deportation? Is it because he knows that Mouna is going back to Syria? I think it’s everything. And, now that you mention it, it’s as much about his wife dying of cancer, and having to watch her die. He feels so fucking powerless. When he’s yelling at those guards, he’s getting rid of seven or eight years of pent-up anger.

Film still from The Visitor.

BB: Talk to me about the significance of music and the instruments in this film.

TM: At the beginning of the film, Walter’s piano lessons are very intellectual exercises. They’re almost like geometry. And that’s his problem. He’s spent his entire life up here [points to his head], rather than down here [points to his heart]. But did this happen after his wife died? Did they even have an amazing marriage? I don’t think everyone who loses someone necessarily loved that person. Sometimes people die in your life, people you’re not the most in love with. Anyway, then the drums come along and change everything.

BB: Now, while I appreciate the authenticity of sparse dialogue, because we’re not always talking in witty banter, yours dangles at the opposite end of the spectrum.

TM: My editor gives me a lot of grief for that. He’s like, “You’re one of the most articulate, communicative guys I know, so why do you make these films about people who can’t communicate?” Walter is certainly articulate, but I don’t think he speaks unless he has something to say. He doesn’t have time for conversation. He’s “working on his book.” I love the scene when Walter freaks out, because it’s not a “You’re out of order, this whole damn court is out of order” moment. It’s so awkward, and some of the things he says don’t really apply to the moment: “We’re not little children!” It’s like, what is he talking about?

BB: People have spoken at length about your decision to cast relatively unknown actors. But after the success of The Station Agent, Hollywood must have come calling, no?

TM: Not really, because I didn’t shop this movie around. I did, however, start getting calls from ICM and CAA at home. The woman on the other end was like, “Hey, it’s Caroline from CAA!” And after three minutes of conversation, she’s pitching this huge actor for the part of Walter. I thought, Wow, he would have done it? And then I said, No, he wouldn’t have done it, because that guy only works for money. He was African American, I’ll tell you that.

BB: It has to be Sam Jackson! Wesley Snipes?

TM: I won’t say. Anyway, at that point Richard had been in my mind for two years. But it’s funny how the script finally got out, and people were reading it, saying, “Oh, I can put my client in here.” I found it funny and flattering at the same time. And, well, that’s Hollywood.