Stephen Warbeck is an Oscar-winning British composer, best known for creating the music of Shakespeare in Love, Billy Elliott and Captain Corelli’s Mandolin. He also plays in a band called The hKippers (with a silent “h”), which he describes as “crazy and anarchist”, so his musical output is diverse.
Now, his directorial debut is here, a near-silent, eccentric comedy-drama titled The Man in the Hat, which he co-writes and directs with documentary filmmaker John Paul Davidson (Brazil with Michael Palin, Stephen Fry in America).
Traversing the breath-taking landscapes of France, the simple story follows the titular Man in the Hat (Ciarán Hinds, First Man, The Woman in Black) as he journeys through France in a Fiat 500, accompanied by a framed photograph of an unknown woman. He is pursued by five angry men in a Citroën Dyane. Why are they chasing him? And how can he shake them off?
Travelling North on his escape across the mountains, gorges and bridges of France, he hears stories of love and loss, Otis Redding and Canteloube, and encounters mysterious strangers including The Damp Man (Stephen Dillane, Game of Thrones, Darkest Hour), The Chef (Muna Otaru, TV’s Broken, The Keeping Room) and The Biker (Maïwenn, Polisse, Pardonnez-moi); coming face to face with the vivid eccentricities of an old country on an old continent, whilst trying to evade the pursuers who are always, relentlessly, on his tail.
Combining his passion for music with a move into visual storytelling, Warbeck tells us how his directorial debut came to pass.
How did you come up with the concept for The Man in the Hat?
I was working with Jeremy Herrin, a theatre director, who also plays the priest in our film. We both share a love for French mime artist, actor and filmmaker, Jacques Tati. We had this idea of an “everyman” character who might be quite Tati-esque, perhaps also a very tall man in a small car. This early image is how the concept started.
Then, some of the initial scenes and ideas were born from things that have happened to me, like losing my shoe in the moat of a castle, then wandering around and realising all the shoe shops were closed [laughs]. The scenes came from a series of unusual, almost banal events which can happen to people, all set around this central character. Once we started working on it with Dominic Dromgoole, one of our producers, and John-Paul Davidson, my co-writer and co-director, we fleshed out the story where the encounters would affect the main character and reignite his love for humanity.
What was it like co-writing and directing, and how did you split the duties? Were you able to complement each other’s work?
Yes, we focused on different areas. My background is in composition and music, so I was aware, especially with a tight schedule, I’d need a degree of technical expertise I didn’t immediately have. I’d need to work with someone who was used to working fast and flexibly. John Paul has done drama as well, but his biggest experience is in documentaries. He’s great at setting up, operating and shooting very quickly because those are the conditions he’s used to. On set, he tended to spend a bit more time with the crew, and I spent more time with the actors. It wasn’t an exclusive divide, just how it went organically.
What were your influences going into the film?
I’ve watched all sorts of really odd films. I really like a Norwegian director called Bent Hamer and he made a film called Kitchen Stories. That was a big influence. It’s about people who aren’t necessarily the most glamourous, just living their lives. They’re pushed around by circumstances, not taking good control of their lives and maybe making a mess of it, but they’re real humans. I like those kinds of stories because they’re relatable. Jacques Tati was a major influence too.
While you primarily work as a composer, you collaborated with many people on the music this time around. Who did you bring in?
I wrote the incidental music and we had some wonderful collaborators who came in for other key scenes. When the character of The Damp Man is in a real predicament, I wanted a warm and sincere musical performance. The slightly unreal situation of sitting and having a meal, in a desperate state, would be changed by the fact that someone suddenly sings a beautiful song. We chose that particularly song with Mark Padmore who performs it, and Dario Rossetti Bonell plays guitar and performed and recorded it live on set. It was a lovely experience because everyone, cast and crew, was so moved and you can see it’s genuine.
Nadine Lee sings the song “Try a Little Tenderness” and the title says it all. It’s an incredible song which speaks to one of the greatest human virtues. I’ve worked with Nadine a lot in theatre and she brings an amazing human quality to her music. We hoped we’d get permission to use that song, and we did.
I asked Matilda Homer to write a song which had something to do with memories, thinking back on people who are gone. She wrote the song “Memory” especially for the film, which she sings with the young women sitting in the car with The Man in the Hat, while he’s remembering the past. That’s an amazing musical performance too. I even play one of the drunken men on the ferry and we perform the only French song I know all the way through! So, we had a great variety of music and styles.
Was it liberating to open up the music and involve other people, allowing you to focus more on the overall story?
It did in a way, but I also feel that those particular moments operate away from the main score. For me, music is dialogue when there’s no words on the page. Those songs communicate something you might say with words in a different film.
What was it like working with Ciarán Hinds?
I actually worked with Ciarán on a play at the National Theatre and, one time we met up, I gave him the script for The Man in the Hat. After reading it, he said he wanted to do it. I think it was slightly out of the ordinary for Ciarán and even his agent, which perhaps made it more appealing. I get along very well with him and I love how warm he is as a human being, and that really comes across on screen in a very gentle performance.
Working primarily as a music composer, can you describe your relationship with the work you create on screen?
When you write music for films, you feel like you’ve become friends with all these characters on screen, even if you’ve never met them (the actors). You watch them over and over again and when you’re crafting music to accompany a scene, watching every small thing these people do, you feel like you get to know them. I loved working with Ciarán on The Man in the Hat and for John Paul and I, working with him as co-directors this time, we had a wonderful experience.
What’s your most vivid memory from the shoot?
I remember one day I was laughing so hard behind the monitors during a scene where The Man in the Hat is having a meal with the farmers. They were coming up with such silly, ridiculous, almost slapstick ways to eat their food and it was such a quiet set, I could hardly keep it together. There were a lot of funny days like that. Although it was stressful at times, working on a tight schedule, we still had a good time.
In the edit, where they say a film really comes together, what was that process like for you?
Being a composer, I’m used to spending lots of time with editors. Some directors sit in with the editor all the time, but I prefer to spend maybe two thirds of a day with the editor, then leave them for a couple of days to do the actual work, so that’s what John Paul and I did.
I think you need to accept that, sometimes, it’s not your part of the craft. You should let people who understand an area better try it their way. During one scene, our director of photography Kaname Onoyama had a strong vision to restage a scene, and it worked much better visually. So, I think you should be open to listening. Say yes to all the ideas and just see what happens. For me, The Man in the Hat was all consuming, in a good way. From the week before shooting, to several weeks after, I didn’t inhabit anything but the world of that film.
What do you hope audiences take away from The Man in the Hat?
I hope people are reminded of the warmth humans are capable of, and remember that the small things can change the big things. There are gestures which really affect our main character throughout his journey, and I hope the audience feels that. It all sounds very serious but, at the same time, I hope the film makes people smile and enjoy the foibles, eccentricities and silliness of people. We always talk about our differences, but I think we have a lot in common.
Kaleidoscope Entertainment presents The Man in the Hat out now on digital download .
