Tell us about your background and when did you decided to become a filmmakek?
I arrived on American shores as a six-year-old child and had witnessed my mother face the gruesome challenging fate brought on by immigration, the dislocation of the émigré soul and the eventual rather heart-wrenching assimilation which is the fate of the émigré who stands obliged to blend into a society that is not often welcoming and in fact quite frankly unapologetically judgmental of differing cultures and customs. I am a child of the Cold War and having fled Soviet Russia due to religious and ethnic persecution, as most fledging immigrants; I found immense and infinite escapism in fantasy with the unfolding of slow seductively intricate and sublime images on the screen at the very moment that I had set foot in the Film Form in Bohemian Greenwich Village, New York. I was captivated and enthralled by the sheer elegance of these mystical alluring 24 frames per second captured for an eternity on celluloid and mesmerized by that sin in soft focus unraveled by the motion-pictures. Film, in my humble opinion, is a creative medium in which much like crooning the blues or playing jazz notes, the soul of humanity is exposed frame by frame before the lens of the human eye. Hence, one is immersed in that cinematic thrilling whirlpool as the human condition in unveiled, hopefully resonating with a global multitude. I cannot righteously admit to instantaneously deciding to become a filmmaker like Poof! Rather, I decided to write for film, to be a screenwriter which is a special beast, and to paint in stark images, employing descriptive words to sing the songs of life, light, death, pain, pathos, drama, love, lust and the eternal suffering of the human condition by depicting lives spun in tales via the craft of film. The first film I had seen at the Film Forum was a Knife in the Water by Roman Polanski. It was anything but a film shot taking into account an impressionable youth’s sensibility. However, this uncanny psychological thriller was a wet and wild drama and being so young it had ignited my spirit to explore that delicate volatile dynamic between intense intimate uncomfortable spaces occupied by gripping spirits entangled in the septic verse of the vespers encroaching upon solipsistic minds. Since the epistemological position reveals that solipsism entails that knowledge of any aspect of life outside of one’s own mind is a grave uncertainty—I have felt the longing desire to explore the internal and external world of the mind which cannot be truly known and which does not really exist outside of the mind of the beholder. I wanted to make films so that I could probe into the epistemic theories of truth. In portraying verisimilitude—I attempt to treat film as a lyrical composition which is an excursion into the principles of truth-like-ness. After all, cinema often mirrors our lives to the point of precise excruciation thrust upon us by the very act of living which is an artform in itself.
Films that inspired you to become a filmmaker?
The cinema of the former Czechoslovakia, as well as the current Czech Republic and Slovakia, is indisputably some of the most richly visual cinema ever made in the history of the motion-picture industry. I was definitely inspired by masterpieces such as The Shop on Main Street, Pacho, the Brigand of Hybe, The Feather Fairy, Let the Princess Stay with Us, Closely Watched Trains, Ragtime, Man on the Moon, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I have also been greatly inspired by Au Hasard De Balthazar, The Nun (1966), The Diary of a Chambermaid, Summer of Sam, Mean Streets, The Piano, Agnes of God, Fanny and Alexander, Virgin Spring, Cries and Whispers, When Harry Met Sally, Cleo from 5 to 7, The Bicycle Thieves, Pierrot Le Fou, and Pickpocket, merely to name a few masterpieces of cinematic integrity wrapped in coils of fantasy. I would be remiss if I failed to mention the films of Martin Scorsese in particular, as he taught film at my Alma Mater, Tisch School of the Arts at New York University. I am fan of his films, Casino and Goodfellas. I also greatly admire Spike Lee’s films, especially Jungle Fever, Crooklyn and Malcolm X. I have been immeasurably impressed by the films of Ingmar Bergman such as the ingenious Persona, Wild Strawberries, and The Seventh Seal. This is most definitely not an exhaustive list of films that have egged me on to become a filmmaker and a screenwriter. I fawn over Andrei Tarkovsky’ metaphysically dark films such as Mirror and Stalker. I cannot fail to mention Akira Kurosawa’s brilliant films such as Throne of Blood, Drunken Angel and Stray Dog. Mr. Kurosawa innovatively utilized the Axial Cut and the Cut on Motion shots, which I admire. In terms of acting, I like to appear in cameo roles, preferably in black and white as I am not terribly photogenic and the camera simply does not love me. However, acting in my own films, is challenging and somewhat cryptic. I appear as the master of suspense, Alfred Hitchcock did, in some phantom scene as a backdrop so that the audience may acknowledge and hence emphatically exclaim at some point in time: “Look, there’s the director, Sophia Romma!”
Who is your biggest influence?
Robert Bresson. Robert Bresson is the epitome of ecclesiastical cinema bordering on a manic adherence to the concept of God’s existence and the toll that human suffering takes on those who expatiate for their earthly sins. As one of my other film icons stated about the cinematic craft of Mr. Bresson; I too feel as does the artful ground-breaking Jean-Luc Goddard: “Bresson is the French Cinema, as Fyodor Dostoevsky is the Russian novel and Mozart is German music.” Bresson’s films are imbued with the presence of Deity underscoring a baffling mysticism and a celestial lyricism. Hence for me, Bresson is the essence of film as he skillfully mines the touchstones of humanity and reaches the epicenter of the heart and soul of a singular cinematic frame elevating the medium to a cathartic opera before a weeping in sync audience. I also deeply admire Otto Preminger who directed more than thirty-five feature films in a five-decade career after leaving the theatre, simply because I hail from Off-Broadway and Off-off Broadway where I had commenced by writing and directing career. I am a fan of Mr. Preminger’s film noire mysteries such as Laura and Fallen Angel. I found his film, Anatomy of A Murder simply brilliant, especially for those who had graduated from Law School, as I have. I found his movie, Advice and Consent, an American political drama, to be most moving.
What were some of the challenges you had to face in making your films?
I would have to say that the most challenging film I had worked on was my most recent labor of love, Used and Borrowed Time. We were shooting on a very tight budget. We were obliged to shoot in the dead of winter with snowfalls and raging whiplashing winds. Our post-production Estonian team was riddled with the dilemma of working during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic where the entire world was paralyzed by looming death, an economic crisis and a medical calamity which taxed healthcare systems to the maximum and altered the lives of each member of society on a multi-faceted level. This film was indeed a labor of love during the time of cholera called Covid. I found my film, Poor Liza, to be quite torturous in shooting as well, since it was the first film to be shot on location with breathtaking scenes in the center of the Red Square in Moscow (back in 1998), in the former Soviet Union, and our producers had to obtain special permission from the Kremlin to shoot those scenes by Saint Basil’s Cathedral, which was no small feat, obviously. Furthermore, my esteemed actor, the Academy Award Nominee, Ben Gazzara, an icon in Hollywood, had indulged in a bit too much vodka since it was frigid and in shooting one of our main scenes in which Mr. Gazzara was lifted sky high against a blue screen with some markers, engaged in the act of a flying narrator named Karamzin, Ben kept hollering at the crew as he was hoisted: “Be careful of my balls, they are precious!” The rest of the cast, including the fabulously talented Lee Grant, burst out in boisterous laughter and had some great fun, however the filming was riddled with chaos from military incursions to curfew impositions. We were all so thrilled to return to the United States when the shooting of the film had culminated that we cried tears of pure joy.
Do you have a favorite genre to work in? Why is it your favorite?
I like to work in the genre of sentimentalism, allegorical symbolism, mystic fantasy, surrealism, absurdism, and expressionism. I am a steadfast disciple of the La Nouvelle Vague, German Expressionism and Italian Neo-Realism. The Golden Age of Italian Cinema has insidiously inspired me in that oldies but goodies mannerism with stories set amongst the poor and the working class, filmed on location, often employing the talents of non-professional actors to bring forth that authentic quality shamelessly portraying the concept of our tormented human nature while by the same token our propensity of unspeakable atrocities as people against others who are less fortunate. Themes of everyday life, including poverty, oppression, injustice, and desperation are all too familiar to me as an émigré and as the daughter of refugees. However, in order for the audience to swallow the harsh pills of reality; I attempt to add the water of baptisms so that universally speaking—unbearable reality is laced with the hope of surrealism, escapism and a false sense of spiritual heroism—a recipe for a tolerable yet engaging cinematic experience without having to wallow in the pain of others to the extent of desiring the death of one’s own persona in the face of human misery without the prospects of certain redemption and resurrection. German Expressionism entices my abstract sense as a filmmaker. Film ought to express itself in shadowy, enigmatic landscapes of mystery to convey nightmares of the heart, longings of the passionate and the obsessions of the haunted screen where actors play out the lives of their living counterparts—those who actually watch films reveal their own social circumstances behind veiled scrims as the camera roams wild through decrepit purple stocking slums, evoking images of pimps smoking cigars, femme fatales swinging off monkey bars and brute deceptive cads playing poker in the dingy cobblestoned alleyways. I admire the French New Wave genre and those respective directors for their unconventional cinematic language which broke the barriers of French Cinema. Revered directors such as Claude Chabral, Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, Eric Rohmer and Francois Truffaut were my greatest influences in film. I also work with repetitive dialogue, jump cuts and time lapse to hammer in the auteur’s distinctive and discriminate point of view and to deliver the plot in a staccato manner. Low budget, location shot films, free style editing, loosely constructed narratives, spontaneity and non-politicized cinema has fascinated me from the onset of my film career. I accept the dilemma of taking unpopular stances but shun away from appearing as a stooge dictating on the edge of a soapbox, perched at the pinnacle of pretentious pompousness. Cinema is art and art should not preach—it should move and shake, capture and overtake, consume and exhume. I do not mean to sound crass but as corpses may be exhumed from the ground so may stale emotional states that have long been put to rest. Film allows for the blooming of intense sentiments so that a holocaust of lost souls can be reclaimed in the form of embers from flickering motion-pictures.
What’s your all-time favorite movie and why?
Stanley Kubrick’s Doctor Strangelove Or How I learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, is perhaps the greatest film of all time. I take a keen and a sort of depraved pleasure in watching this film’s unique cynicism burgeon on film and overtake the most unsuspecting and naïve spectators with its prophetic commentary on war, the burden which nations carry in a race towards unattainable exceptionalism while nursing the psychosis of competitive warfare among ambitious actor states willing to subdue and crush the temperament of their own citizens solely to rule the world stage. This dark comedy satirizes the Cold War panic of a nuclear conflict between the Soviet Union and the United States. This film is a comedic tragic triumph over the perversity and dementia of power-tripping. Kubrick’s sardonic heavy-handed direction is no subtle attempt to socially and astutely comment on the absurdity of space wars and on the detrimental pain that war creates, scarring and disfiguring future generations both mentally and physically.