For Director Tyler Taormina, ‘Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point’ Was an Exercise in ‘Judgment’ and ‘Gratitude’
It was the day after Halloween, and at The Grove in Los Angeles, Christmas decorations had already been rolled out and strung up. It was fitting for the interview I was about to have with filmmaker and musician Tyler Taormina , who was in between travels for his most recent work, "Christmas Eve in Miller's Point," but rather than sit outside and enjoy the ambience, I asked if he'd like to head to Barnes & Noble for the first day of their annual November Criterion Collection sale. Seeing his eyes light up with excitement, I realized I had my answer.
Taormina and I were a few years apart at Emerson College in Boston, and though we'd never met, I found an unmistakable familiarity with him as we started to chat and look through Blu-rays and DVDs. Perhaps it resulted from being shaped at the same institution, or maybe it can be traced back even further to the similar youths we had growing up in somewhat regressive, suburban, East Coast surroundings (Taormina in Long Island and myself in New Jersey).
Though his was Italian and mine was Jewish, the large families from which we come, as well as the communities we ran from, seem to hold an equal curiosity for us both, especially since we're the only ones to have ventured so far out. It's why I found such a connection with "Christmas Eve in Miller's Point," an ensemble piece and snowglobe-like exploration of the fleeting bonds, pains, beauty, and mischief only the holiday season can provide, and why Taormina himself felt called to share this somewhat autobiographical story.
"It's kind of crazy to be the only one to leave this big extended family," he said. "So I think a lot of my work is looking back on this place that I grew up. It becomes very anthropological. It really is like a study of the humanity and the people and the way they are."
As co-writer alongside Eric Berger, director, and producer on "Miller's Point," Taormina curates a vibe piece rather than weaving a traditional Christmas adventure or melodrama. Though there is a fair amount of plot, with newcomers and established actors like Maria Dizzia, Ben Shenkman, Francesca Scorsese, and Elsie Fisher carrying their own unique narrative and intentions for the evening, no thread is ever followed through to any conclusion or given too much depth beyond a passing moment. In this way, Taormina, his cast, and his crew create something purely evocative, like the Yule log that pops up on TV every year or a warm cup of cocoa on a cold winter's night.
Beyond the many characters, which include Michael Cera and Gregg Turkington as a pair of emotionally stunted cops, the town of Miller's Point also serves as a central figure. In using his hometown of Smithtown, Long Island as a cipher for the kind of place you either get stuck in, run away from, and/or are forced to come back to, Taormina found himself shedding previously held conceptions of the people he thought he'd moved beyond and relating to them as they helped him bring his vision to life.
"A lot of my friends and I, we have a sort of view on our hometowns, which are pretty reactionary and suburban. As open-minded as a suburb can tend to be, there's kind of a judgment that I think I've harbored over the years of the people there," Taormina said, adding later, "I see that town as an artless place like they don't really care about culture even. And yet when I was location scouting in these people's homes and just kind of peering into their sort of everyday quotidian lives, I felt like they were so so moved to be involved in shining a light on their own mundanity, just for art's sake even. And that really surprised me."
As much as Taormina might've felt like a zoo visitor peering into the monkey cage, at its core, "Miller's Point" is a loving tribute to the places and faces that make us who we are and a subtle, artistic investigation into why they hold such power over us throughout our lives, even when they're far in the rearview.
"It first and foremost comes from a curiosity and an appreciation, a real sense of gratitude for people," said Taormina, explaining what draws him to this type of tapestry storytelling. "And for me, the curiosity comes in comparing people and how they relate to different rituals, how they relate to different codes of their society."
Bringing the conversation back to Emerson, Taormina and I discussed his partnership with fellow grad Carson Lund, who served as cinematographer on "Miller's Point" and recently unveiled his debut feature, "Eephus," alongside the film at Cannes. The two were acquaintances at school, but developed a professional collaboration once they'd both moved to Los Angeles, forming the film collective Omnes Films. Taormina said he shares a shorthand with Lund and that just by referencing "All That Heaven Allows," "Home Alone," and Coca-Cola imagery, Lund could capture the exact look and feel Taormina had in mind for "Miller's Point." With both of these films continuing to find success on the festival circuit this year, as well as the attention of indie distributors IFC and Music Box Films , I asked Taormina what it might mean for the future of Omnes Films.
"I think there's a real expectation that filmmakers give themselves, that they have to be linearly growing. Every budget needs to be bigger than the last, every audience needs to be. I understand that, but at the same time, I don't think we should be afraid to make other types of projects as well in tandem — small films, no-budget films, medium-length films," said Taormina. "Especially with producing, too. I don't think Omnes Films is going to say, like, 'Well, we're not gonna make films below $500,000 anymore.' I would hate that because I see that when you give filmmakers $20,000 or $30,000 to make their first films, it could just lead to the most beautiful things, and they'll feel so licensed to do whatever the fuck they want, truly."
As we sat on a bench within an enclave of movies and books about movies, Taormina discussed the ephemeral nature of holiday events like the one depicted in "Miller's Point" and how they force us to take stock of all the love that surrounds us, while also reminding us that it won't always be there. There are a few particularly potent instances of this, ranging from a group of siblings facing disagreement over how to handle their ailing mother to the whole family gathering to watch an old wedding video featuring loved ones that are clearly gone, but not forgotten.
"I feel like it is this sort of anguish of death that brings me to actually really appreciating life, so I think that was a huge reason to make this movie," Taormina said. "I feel like if you really exercise sentimentality, if you really are going to see something for being there, you will realize quickly that it won't be there soon. You can't have one without the other."
"Miller's Point" carries this balance of sweet and bitter throughout its running time, often in the same scene. One that comes to mind involves an uncle (played with heartfelt panache by children's magician Tony Savino) handing his nephew a manila envelope containing a new chapter to the memoir he's secretly been writing and only sharing with him. Taormina said this had actually happened to him at a funeral he went home for around the time he was in college.
"I just thought, wow, there's so much of ourselves dying to come out in these sort of group contexts," he said of how it impacted him, "where it's hard to really betray this idea of how people already perceive you in a family unit."
Taormina didn't purchase any Criterions — he prefers to see things in theater, god bless him — but we spent a good few minutes pulling out different options — "The Friends of Eddie Coyle," Henri-Georges Clouzot's "Le Corbeau." As we venture back out into the fake Christmas wonderland and part ways, I find myself longing for real snow, a crude joke from a cousin or an aunt, and a table full of food no one could possibly finish. A moment like this a film like "Christmas Eve in Miller's Point" was made for.
"Christmas Eve in Miller's Point" is now in theaters from IFC Films.
