Nearly 30 years ago, filmmaker Guillermo del Toro and actor Ron Perlman were discussing films to make or remake, and that conversation eventually led to William Lindsay Gresham’s 1947 novel “Nightmare Alley.” And though it took a few decades, del Toro and co-writer Kim Morgan finally brought the movie to life.
The film tells the story of Stanton Carlisle, a man who buries dark family secrets and creates a new life as a carny. Amidst this rough and unforgiving world, he finds friends, and even love, but he’s mostly interested in finding shortcuts to success. Once he does make it, he ditches the carnival for life as a big city showman who can accumulate wealth and power by hustling rich people desperate to believe in what he’s selling. Of course, complications ensue and there’s a steep price to be paid for the wreckage he leaves in his wake.
“Everything is constructed as prologue for the end of the movie when he is given a mirror and shown, ‘This is who you are,” del Toro says of the noir-ish tragedy he has created.
Bradley Cooper brings his charisma to Carlisle, but del Toro has also assembled an impressive cast that includes Cate Blanchett, Rooney Mara, Toni Collette, Willem Dafoe, Richard Jenkins, and David Strathairn as well as Perlman, Mary Steenburgen, Tim Blake Nelson and Holt McCallany in smaller roles.
The director spoke by phone recently about creating a tragedy with an unlikeable protagonist and how this film taught him new lessons. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q. In “Shape of Water,” audiences rooted for the main character – not so in “Nightmare Alley.” Were you wary of how the audience would respond?
“Shape of Water” was like a beautiful poem, but this I hope is a punch in the gut. When you are articulating a tragedy, you are not worried about this. I don’t care if you like or dislike his character as long as you understand him.
A character’s path being inevitable doesn’t make it predictable, it makes it inexorable. There’s a feeling of dread, and tragedy hopes to create a feeling of self-recognition.
Q. “Nightmare Alley” tells the story of an angry man with daddy issues who’ll to go to extremes – harming people, manipulating and lying to the masses – to gain power. When you filmed this in 2020, were you thinking of any real public figures?
Yes, but it goes beyond that. This is a type of person we are seeing arise across Europe and America, even in our personal lives. It is a very sad moment, where people allow in only knowledge that they want to believe. We are almost paralyzed or destroyed by the idea that truth and lies have lost their meaning. We knew that was a way to make this movie about today, not just about a problem we had in the 1940s.
People are fueled by a surge of righteousness or certainty– righteousness is the angry version of certainty, which I think includes decency and empathy. Righteousness and entitlement mean you can fly off the handle when things don’t go the way you want them to go. We exist in a moment where we can find the entire world in a spasm, a tantrum, every day. This character embodies that tragic emptiness that cannot be filled with anything.
Q. The novel is critical of American capitalism. How much did you want that to be overt in the movie versus a depiction of individual hubris and greed?.
The original novel is more critical of capitalism as a system, although when it comes to the rigged game between the have and have-nots, the questions are still the same. I’m doing a character portrait, not a mural – but in the background, you can see the mural, which is about the torture of success, the flip side of the American dream that is a nightmare. Two, three, four times in the movie this guy could have had beautiful endings: He finds family, he finds friends, he finds people who love him, he finds success. He has everything but he wants, more, more, more. And that is pervasive right now.
Q. If you had made this 30 years ago, do you think the women characters would have been as strong as they are, or have you, and the times, changed?
Gresham gave Stanton four father figures and three women to illuminate his character – he kills three of the fathers and he is always eluded by the women he cannot recognize. That’s his story, he was left by his mother and lived with a father he hated. That’s where the monster was birthed. But for this version, I crafted the screenplay with Kim Morgan and her influence cannot be praised enough.
Q. Unlike movies like “Shape of Water” or “Pan’s Labyrinth,” there’s no magic here but the production design, from the carnival to the millionaire’s estate, often feels otherworldly. Was that a conscious decision?
Yes, absolutely. I’m trying to create a visual language that can elevate this sort of parable or fable into a world that is compelling or hypnotizing visually. It’s a seduction visually but also I try to keep the balance between beauty and brutality. If you show only the beauty it becomes more hollow, but if you seduce the audience and they are invested in the world and the characters then the hard-punching moments and gut-wrenching consequences have more power.
Q. At the premiere, you spoke of learning new ways of making a movie. What did you mean?
I used to shoot just the little snippet – I didn’t do any more than what was needed for the exact cut the way I saw it in my head. But watching this group of actors work together and watching Bradley seeking the truth of every moment, I decided to let the camera roll the entire scene from every angle. I ended up finding treasures and rather than having just what I thought it should be, the footage started showing me what the movie could be if I let the scene keep going. I’m very happy to have learned that, even at this late age.
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