This interview is published in the July/August 2003 issue of SCREENTALK magazine.

Screentalk Magazine

Gary Ross’ Seabiscuit

By Rita Cook

When I spoke to screenwriter and director Gary Ross, he was currently in the final stages of post-production on his latest film Seabiscuit. Adapted from the number one New York Times bestseller of the same name, Seabiscuit is a project Ross has both enjoyed and taken pride in bringing to the screen.

Tell me how you got involved with Seabiscuit?

I read a magazine article and book proposal by Laura Hillenbrand before she ever wrote the book. There was something of a bidding war and then I got on the phone with Laura and explained what I wanted to do with the movie, how I saw it and what I felt about it, and she sold me the rights.

You were very interested in staying true to the story.

That is true, absolutely. In the writing process I discussed it extensively with Laura whenever I departed from the book, which I did on occasion, in fact, often. I would discuss the change with Laura, explain why I was doing it and sort of solicit her opinion and hopefully, her approval. By and large, she literally blessed everything I did.

Can you give me an example of one of the things that you thought would be a good change?

For example, Red Pollard’s family was actually wiped out in 1916 by a flood. I changed it to him being wiped out in the depression during the stock market crash. I had to condense some of the time period so actors could play the parts. But also because I thought it was much more poignant, because you can’t select every detail to be able to depict the era and persona. I used the stock market crash to wipe out Red’s family instead of the flood, which had taken out their brick factory.

Tell me about the challenges you faced adapting the book into a screenplay?

A very sprawling structure or really, it covers a long period of time. One of the things that people love about the book so much is the era—the way the horse was relevant in the era and the journey that these three characters went on in order to find one another. That is something that requires telling three stories at once before your characters ever meet for almost a third of the film. That is a huge challenge, but I think we have done a pretty good job.

Tell me how you wove these stories into the screenplay.

Tom Smith, Red Pollard and Charles Howard—we wove the narrative together. One of the important things, I think, when you weave the narrative together is the connective tissue, the journeys that these characters are going on have to be relevant to one another in order to not stop the story and start it again. You have to understand that there is inevitability to these stories to tie the people together in a way that makes some sense. That is one of the things that makes it compelling.

How long did it take you to write the script?

I outlined for about two and a half months and I wrote for about three or four. It was relatively quick, it was a very inspiring story to be able to adapt. Sometimes these things are, but I have worked much slower than that on other movies. This one was very exciting and it is very cinematic and it suggested what to do very quickly.

Did you find yourself rewriting after you completed the script?

The usual amount.

What do you think brought you to the point in your life where you wanted to take on this particular project?

It has a lot of things in it that I love. It discusses an era that I find fascinating. It examines three tough, hardened guys in a very tough era, all of who have a certain yearning, I wouldn’t say for each other, but a yearning not to be alone. And one of the things is, I wouldn’t even call it a yearning not to be alone, it really examines the way three people reach out to one another and kind of complete one another.

I don’t think any one of these people would have survived independently or would have been able to achieve what they achieved independently. So in a tough and very hardened world of men, it is very interesting to see these people reach out and need each other and that is one of the undercurrents of the movie. That is what is interesting to explore.

Usually American movies have one lone sole hardened protagonist fighting against a world that doesn’t really change very much. This is different, this is three people who come together to help each other, complete each other, solidify one another and bolster each other, and so heal each other. All those things are compelling and interesting and I think, unique.

Did the script change after you began to direct it?

Again, no more than the usual.

Any examples come to mind?

Well, you always do. Directing is an extension of your storytelling. It is an extension of one long process of telling a story that begins with the minute you become acquainted with the material and ends with the day you release. If you are the writer and the director I don’t see these as finite moments of the process. I mean, yes, there are demarcation lines. You know you are developing the story and you are making decisions in the writing process. Then you are making a different set of decisions when you are shooting … and then you are making a different set of decisions—which is almost like a rewrite process—in the editing. Finally, you are finishing and fine tuning those moments that you have decided upon in the mix, and the music and the final dub and things like that. But that is one long extension of the storytelling process.

And the fact that you are able to be involved in all of them is also a good way for you to make sure your vision is maintained all the way through.

I am lucky in that I get to direct, in this case, what I wrote. And I had a ball doing it.

How do you think this project has helped you grow overall as a writer, a director and a person?

I think I am a better director than I used to be. Pleasantville was my first movie and I think I was a little more rigid. I did not allow for the happy accident quite as much. I was a little more locked down in the storytelling process cinematically in Pleasantville than I am now. I am more open to surprise and change. I am a little looser and just more accomplished and confident than I used to be as a director.

It changed me in that I am not afraid of size and scope anymore—in any way—because the canvas of this is so big. But, it was also nice to write something that was dramatic and where I didn’t feel compelled to make people laugh all the time. Also, I wove together these narratives and it told a big sprawling epic American story of the kind that I used to love when I was growing up. You don’t always get a chance to do something like that so I grew in that respect too.

You took some risks directing this film, wouldn’t you say?

I don’t know what risks I took; I think it is just very difficult to make a movie like this. I had to shoot inside the action and that requires a tremendous amount of preparation. We did that, we thoroughly mapped out every single horse race and created almost a game plan or playbook for every single horse race.

It was tremendously detailed and we had a race meeting every single day on the prep and then while we were shooting I had a race meeting every morning to rehearse that day's activities. It is very athletic; it is very intricate and very involved. So in terms of risk, anytime you tackle something with this enormous amount of a canvas there is a risk involved. It is kind of exciting and there are a lot of waters to navigate, but that is the job. I think it is always a risk to do something creative.

That is the fun of it, right?

Well, yeah, anytime you do something creative you are putting what you think is worth seeing out there to the world and there is risk in that. There is vulnerability in that. But that is also the attractive part of it and that is what is exciting about it.

Tell me how it was working with the actors.

Well, they were all different. Every actor reacts differently. Tobey and I have an old, long, close relationship. We are fond of one another; we have a shorthand communication with one another. We go back to Pleasantville so that is a different relationship than something like Chris Cooper. He comes in, Chris has his own way of working, which is very self-contained, very autonomous. He does very much his own thing and he keeps a lot of secrets and shows them to you and doesn’t really engage. He doesn’t really open up and show you how the sausage is made, he shows you the result and he assumes that you, as the director, should have the taste to decide whether you like it or not. To know what adjustments you want, but he doesn’t really reveal his process to you. Someone like Jeff [Bridges] totally allows you into his process and invites a huge amount of discussion and stirring, each actor is different in that respect.

Talk about the locations and the fact that it was a period piece; what kind of obstacles did you feel that you were up against with that?

Well, it is very sprawling, I mean, the movie is told all over America because it is about America. We are in New York, we are in Kentucky, we are out here in California in Santa Anita, we are down in the middle of the Mojave Desert. I mean, the canvas could not be bigger for this thing. So we have a massive traveling road show going all over the country with 40 horses that we own and God knows how many trucks. It is a massive undertaking.

How many extras did you end up needing for the Santa Anita Race Track?

We were always around 2000 people on the big days, but we had at least 300 or 400 extras almost every day.

What would your recommendation be for a writer trying to take on a task of adapting a book like this?

Pick what you love and don’t be rigid in it. The first question to ask is “Why do I like this, what do I like in the book? What in the book thrills me? What in the book do I like and what in the book don’t I like?” Then you can ask yourself “Why do I like those things and why don’t I like those other things?” And that will begin to hone and shape the structure for you.

When you are adapting a book to the screen you are a person who is reading that book as an audience first and you don’t need to be professional. You need to forestall the moment when you become professional as long as you can in order to keep the freshness of that first read alive.

The spontaneity—what drew you to it, and what is exciting about it—is the most important thing, and the longer you can keep that alive the better job you are going to do.

Do you prefer adapting or writing an original script?

I have done both; I can’t say I prefer one over the other. Saying that you prefer one over the other is not discussing the individual movies it is discussing a method of work. They’re different, and I can imagine a horrible adaptation experience and I can imagine a great one, and a horrible original and a great original. It really depends on the movie.

Tell me about your day when you are writing.

On this movie I started very early in the morning, I would start at about 6:30, pour some coffee and most of my days pages were done by 8:30 or 9:00 in the morning. Probably 85% would be done before 8:30 or 9:00 then the remaining 15% would be done between 9:00 and 11:00, and by noon I was playing tennis everyday.

While I was writing, I exercised probably three or four hours a day because I was done. It was so labor intensive, this script. I wrote a very long script in a very short time. I think that almost fanatical amount of exercise kept me sane in order to do that much work that quickly.

I interviewed you when you wrote and directed Pleasantville and at that time I asked you if you had any writing quirks. You said you have a phone in your room that you don’t know the number for...

That’s right.

Do you still have that phone?

I do.

And you still don’t know the number?

No, I do not. Well, I know the number now, but at the beginning of each project I change it and I don’t know it. I don’t let people call in. I probably also told you I didn’t like to talk in the morning either, until I have written my pages. I don’t like using my voice until I have exhausted my characters.

You also told me back then that what inspires you is courage, struggle, honesty and simplicity, any changes?

Courage, yes. Struggle, yes. Honesty, yes. Simplicity, yes. I would add complexity—simplicity and complexity. And then I would have to add contradiction too.

Do you feel, even with where you are today, that you are still struggling to get to a place that you want to be? A place you haven’t achieved yet?

No, I was where I wanted to be when I was 20. It is just that where I wanted to be then was a 20-year-old. I don’t think you get anywhere, I just think you are someplace. I mean there are things I would rather be doing, there are things everybody would rather be doing, but that says you trade your life for something.

I think that even if you are vaguely dissatisfied with some things that is okay too, it doesn’t mean that you are not there yet, it just means that where you are has some drive or ambition or dissatisfaction in it. That’s all and I am pretty satisfied.

Do you have any advice for young screenwriters looking to you as a role model?

Don’t figure it out. Write what you love, write what you care about. Don’t think you are going to get someplace and then you will be able to write the thing you care about and the thing you love. Write the thing you care about and love now because there is only going to be more pressures altering or corrupting your voice as you go on.

Too many writers think that one day when I get successful then I can, but by that moment they don’t recognize themselves anymore. Stay true to what you love. Stay true to what you feel and express yourself.

Fundamentally, don’t figure it out so much. There are things to figure out and there are things to learn and there are things to know, of course. It is important to be self-critical, but by the same token make peace with your own voice and embrace your own voice. If you try to embrace somebody else’s you will never be able to do the job.

Anything else to say about Seabiscuit or your career?

In the words of Red Pollard, “It’s been a great ride so far.” I am very happy.

Rita Cook is a producer, writer and currently President of Cinewomen Los Angeles. She was an associate producer on Trimark's Route 666 and co-producer on three films Schizophrenic, Gabriella and Lost Soul. Editor-in-Chief of Insider Magazine and Staff Writer for SCREENTALK Magazine, Cook's next project is a vampire/erotic thriller called The Kiss Of The Vampire

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