Lodge Kerrigan Q&A

The director talks about the making of his disturbing new featurte, 'Keane'.

Sep 21 2006

For his third feature film, 'Keane', 43- year-old, New-York based filmmaker Lodge Kerrigan returns to the subject of madness, which was the focus of his 1994 debut, 'Clean, Shaven'. Damien Lewis plays William Keane, a father whose daughter was kidnapped a year before and who has now slipped into despair and mental illness.

William Keane is a familiar figure for anyone who lives in a city. He's disturbed, he's lost, he's easily dismissed as crazy.

Keane is the kind of character who most people, in everyday society, try to avoid. He suffers from mental illness and he sometimes loses control of himself in public places and around other people, and he's clearly dealing with enormous amounts of grief. The whole purpose of the film was to try and examine a person who's suffering a huge amount of grief, and to try and engender a certain amount of empathy for someone in that position.

You stay very close to Keane. The camera's very tight to his face for most of the film.

I hoped it would engender some empathy for him. I think it's understandable why people don't want to engage with him – they're fearful. I think Kieslowski said: I'm much more interested in individuals than society. I feel the same way. I think that anyone of us could be in that position. None of us are that far removed from it. It's only a few steps for anyone. If we had a different genetic predisposition or if we were born to different parents...

Keane repeatedly plays out the loss of his child. He returns to the same spot again and again.

I think it's human nature. If something bad happens, people play it out in their minds, or in their hearts, or in their dreams. It's an attempt to change the outcome, right? For example, someone who's lost a relative or a lover: there have been many reports of people thinking that they've seen their loved one on the streets. I think there's a tendency in humans to try and replay things and not to accept the finality of the loss. It's human nature. I don't think it's specific to mental illness as much as it's specific to being human.

We only have Keane's version of events – that his daughter was abducted. How much doubt did you expect to linger in the mind of the viewer that he's telling the truth?

In my interaction with some people who suffer from mental illness – and I've had interaction with such people for years and years – some of the stories I've heard, I don't know if they're true or not. I don't think they're being deceitful. It's rather that delusion is a symptom of mental illness. I put the audience literally in the room with Keane and you have to figure it out for yourself. What's interesting is that I think he did have a daughter, and I directed it that way. I discussed it with Damien and he acted it that way, and we both agreed. What's being withheld is the finality of dialogue. Instead, there is no verbal or visual confirmation – like if I cut to Sophie's grave, you'd go: fine, that's confirmed. I'm much more interested in behaviour. I'm not purposefully trying to create ambiguity. But if you met this person, you would have those same questions.

Much of the film is shot in public in New York. Did you thrive off that?

I did. Absolutely. When we actually started to shoot, everything was planned out. There's no improvisation at all. But shooting in a live environment is akin to shooting a documentary because you never fully know what's going to happen – if someone's going to walk into frame or interact with the characters. You're constantly working at a very high level of concentration and adrenalin. The advantage is that it gives so much energy, not only for the crew but in particular for the cast. They really thrive off it, and I think you see that in the performances.

'Keane' opens on Friday.

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