Cover Story: Going ‘Nowhere’ Fast With Gregg Araki
This interview was originally published Friday the 13th, 2023 for WUSSY Vol. 12 — order a copy!
Amidst the eerily tranquil backdrop of Hollywood Forever Cemetery, Gregg Araki grins below a headstone depicting a guardian angel. When surrounded by the skeletal remains of legendary matinee idols, punk musicians, and Warhol superstars, Araki’s singular contributions to queer cinema, with their recurring emphasis on living fast, cumming hard, and dying young and beautiful, are given a fresh lacquer of intergenerational significance. From the kinetic HIV-positive outlaw romance of The Living End (1992), to the devastatingly luminous portrayal of two men reckoning with the aftermath of childhood sexual abuse in Mysterious Skin (2004), Araki approaches the turbulence of young adulthood with a style as rapturous as it corrosive; an assemblage of pheromone-soaked fever dreams, seen through a haze of exhaust fumes and stolen amphetamine salts. The DIY Asian-American provocateur and shoegaze-loving trickster is responsible for an oft-imitated variety of sensual West Coast fatalism, which continues to resonate with both the disenfranchised millennials of yesteryear and the AI-ravaged adolescent misfits of an improbable tomorrow.
Araki’s Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy, consisting of Totally Fucked Up (1993), The Doom Generation (1995), and Nowhere (1997), has recently undergone a widespread cultural resurgence, beloved by contemporary audiences for its highly stylized depictions of disaffected heartthrobs, toxic polycules, and fashionable malaise. Araki muse and proxy James Duval stars in each of these films as a doe-eyed tragedy twink navigating messy situationships and hormonal despair. This archetype has resurfaced in the heartsick himbos of our contemporary media landscape, as the character of Aki portrayed by Evan Mock in the short-lived revival of Gossip Girl seems to be a knowing homage to the romantic aimlessness that Araki and Duval have cultivated throughout the depth of their collaboration.
Araki currently operates as a punk Fairy Godfather for the angst-ridden juvenile delinquents of modern television. He released his (gone-way-too-soon) extraterrestrial sex comedy Now Apocalypse on Starz in 2019, and has directed episodes of series such as Riverdale, 13 Reasons Why, and American Crime. His impact on the psychedelic color palettes, evocative music curation, and amoral protagonists of shows such as Euphoria and Generation is palpable. When we spoke in the depths of a midsummer heatwave, Araki was putting the finishing touches on a new 4k restoration of Nowhere, which critics referred to as “Clueless with nipple rings” and “90210 on acid” upon its original release. Now, over 25 years later, a fresh crop of bicurious miscreants are turning on, tuning out, and getting off in Gregg Araki’s teenage wasteland.
Kamikaze Jones: How is the restoration of Nowhere going?
Gregg Araki: I'm really excited about it, because Nowhere was never given a proper video release. The remaster feels like a brand new movie.
KJ: Your earlier works have proven difficult to find in their intended format up until recently. I think I stole one of those Pan N' Scan DVDs of The Doom Generation while I was working at Borders in high school.
GA: Good, and now they're out of business. Thanks to you!
KJ: Oh God, it's all my fault! I was a messy stoner who hadn't come out yet. At the same time I was secretly reading Mysterious Skin by Scott Heim on my lunch breaks after seeing your adaptation. Are there any particular memories of shooting Nowhere that have come up for you upon revisiting it?
GA: The Doom Generation and Nowhere were made pretty much back to back. It's interesting to me in retrospect because the film's energies are so different. The Doom Generation was filmed in the dead of winter, and the Northridge earthquake happened on the second day of shooting. It was truly a cursed production: cold and dirty, full of long nights. Crew members would mysteriously vanish. My boyfriend was the script supervisor and we were constantly fighting. I loved everything about it. I look back on it with such affection, but I remember thinking at many points, "Oh, God, this is gonna kill me."
Then Nowhere was the exact opposite. It was summertime. It was warm and beautiful. Everybody was fucking each other. It would be just like a giant party on set every day, even though I was working the whole time. It felt very utopian. Everybody was free. Everybody had crushes on everybody. It was all very innocent and fun.
KJ: Do you have a particular romantic anecdote you'd be willing to share?
GA: I don't want to incriminate anybody, but I know there was one actor that hooked up with at least five members of the cast.
KJ: If Nowhere were to be made today, are there any contemporary artists you would include on the soundtrack?
GA: Probably all of the same. Slowdive just put out a new album. There's certain musicians that have since been canceled that probably wouldn't be on the soundtrack. It would be a lot like the soundtrack for Now Apocalypse, which is a mix of all my new and old favorites. Some Depeche Mode, some Cut Copy, some Bat For Lashes.
KJ: I was recently rewatching the pilot of your unreleased 90's MTV show This is the End of the World. The closing credits sequence is kind of a warp speed TRL recap of all the music featured in the episode.
GA: That was a cool experience. It was my first crack at doing a TV show. I'm so bummed that MTV got cold feet about it, because it could have been a great flagship for them, and they might have gone in a different direction. It was at a time when they were flirting with the idea of doing scripted series, when Dawson's Creek was really popular. Then suddenly The Osbourne's and Jackass blew up, so they changed their minds. That's TV for you.
KJ: It's nice to watch the pilot and see your work exist in a curatorial sense, as a roadmap for weird teens looking for new music or new experiences. I think a lot of your films operate in that way, as romantic mixtapes. Later on, the score for Mysterious Skin was composed by two of your idols, (Cocteau Twins multi-instrumentalist) Robin Guthrie and (minimalist composer) Harold Budd. How did that collaboration develop?
GA: For most of my work there is a temp score, and for Mysterious Skin in particular, I used a lot of The Moon and the Melodies, which is the Harold Budd and Cocteau Twins collaborative album from 1985, and—(Gregg's phone rings.)
Can you hold on one sec? Hey, babe. I'm doing an interview right now. Are you on your way home? Trying to think...I guess the smallest superworms they have? Yeah, if they have 25 but I think 50 is the smallest. Okay. I love you, bye.
KJ: Boyfriend? You said something about superworms?
GA: Haha yeah, we have a lot of critters around here.
KJ: Okay, I see in the background. So we're talking lizards-
GA: Lizards and birds and fish and frogs and all kinds of stuff here. Keeping us occupied.
KJ: A flourishing ecosystem.
GA: I forget what we were talking about…Robin Guthrie. It was out of the blue, because Mysterious Skin was very low budget, and we had almost no money to pay him, but he understood what I was doing. It was an artist-to-artist type of situation. It’s similar to how we got Nine Inch Nails to contribute to The Doom Generation. These bands can charge Hollywood productions millions of dollars to use their songs, but if they appreciate the vision it can be a way of recognizing and supporting their own indie roots. Getting the chance to watch Harold and Robin, two geniuses, noodle around in the studio was pure bliss.
KJ: We're talking about queer resilience, and artists collaborating not for profit but for mutual creative gratification. Your style of filmmaking correlates in many ways to the legacy of John Waters. Also: there's a pretty amazing picture of you shirtless with John Waters on the internet.
GA: Why am I shirtless?
KJ: Do you know the picture I'm talking about? You, John Waters, and I think Jeremy Scott.
GA: Jeremy Scott...It's funny that you mention this because the premiere of the Nowhere restoration is going to coincide with the John Waters exhibit at the Academy Museum in LA, and John and I are going to do a little conversation for the Academy newsletter. We had an hour long conversation at the Provincetown Film Festival in 2006, when I received the Filmmaker On The Edge Award. John is the Godfather of everything, so it’s cool to be able to share some face time with him.
KJ: I just sent you the pic just in case it jogs your memory. It's often captioned with, "We saw you from across the room and we really dig your vibe."
GA: Oh my God, that's so funny. I know exactly where this is from. Coachella. Backstage during Beth Ditto’s set. They don't make them like John anymore. I wish he was the president. If somebody like that was the president of the United States, the country would be in much better shape.
KJ: I think the country would be in much better shape even if Edith Massey was president.
GA: That might be a little scary.
KJ: There's all these really exciting cameos in your work: John Ritter, Margaret Cho, Traci Lords, Denise Richards. At the Brooklyn Academy of Music screening of The Doom Generation this past spring, literally everyone in the theater cheered when Parker Posey came onscreen.
GA: Parker is the folk hero of queer America. I worship Parker like everybody else. She only made around 500 dollars for that appearance, and I think she lost money between her plane ticket and taking time off for the part. She was in the Rick Linklater club because of Dazed and Confused, and I sort of knew her from that scene. She was kind enough to agree to do it, and the rest is iconic history.
KJ: Nowhere feels like a premonition of the Hollywood of tomorrow, because so many people involved went on to have such wild and vibrant careers.
GA: That tends to happen whenever you cast young people. It’s a new busload of kids every year. I’m not sure if I’ve told this story, but with the casting sessions for Nowhere, I passed on both Sarah Michelle Gellar and Matt Damon. A bunch of big names came in for that movie because they were all 22 years old and in town and going out on every audition. Someone who got really far in auditions for the part that went to Rachel True was Stacey Dash, and we all know how that story turned out. Maybe if Stacey Dash had done Nowhere things would have turned out better for her.
KJ: Because of that phone call with your boyfriend I feel like I have a better insight into the aesthetics of Nowhere and Now Apocalypse, and the extraterrestrial lizard people that show up in your work.
GA: Interesting! Roscoe the alien in Nowhere is the predecessor of the alien in Now Apocalypse. We even hired the same special effects guy to recreate that costume because the old one had disintegrated.
KJ: Polyamory and non-monogamy are unifying motifs throughout your work. What is your favorite threesome or polycule in cinema history?
GA: The one that really stands out for me is Design For Living, the 30’s film by Ernst Lubitsch, which was extremely scandalous at the time and one of the reasons the Hays Code was invented. My film Splendor is more or less a modern take on that movie.
KJ: Is there a departed movie star that you would like to work with most?
GA: So many. My top two might be Carole Lombard and Brad Davis. With the emergence of AI they might be showing up again in movies soon.
KJ: What's been your personal experience living in Los Angeles in the midst of the writers’ and actors' strikes?
GA: It's really upsetting. I just hope it’s resolved sooner than later. I love making movies and I feel badly for everyone that's affected, not just the artists on strike, but all the crew members, caterers, dry cleaners, party planners, and the rest of the economy surrounding Hollywood. I hope it gets settled quickly, and everybody is happy and can go back to work, and the magic can resume.
KJ: There's a recurring theme of destiny, or conspiracy, in a lot of your films: prophetic dreams, shadowy figures pulling strings from behind the curtain, that often lead to states of both physical and psychological apocalypse.
GA: My interest in cinema is my interest in creating parallel universes. My movies are not naturalistic or realistic, per se. I’m not into setting up a camera and seeing what happens. The universe of these films is highly stylized: the way people talk, the way they look. Gestures carry weight and characters connect in a way that is fated.
KJ: You’ve spoken in past interviews about your work being “Godard-damaged” and the influence of Douglas Sirk, particularly on White Bird in a Blizzard, but I also sense a reverence for German expressionism in terms of how you represent emotional landscapes.
GA: Definitely for Nowhere. The core definition of German expressionism is the character’s interior states becoming exterior, or made visible. That's how we approached the set decoration and designed all those rooms: What's inside these kids' heads? Nowhere was perhaps the zenith of that level of expressionism.
KJ: Have any particular memories about your relationship with James Duval emerged throughout the restoration process?
GA: Jimmy was making Independence Day while we were making Nowhere; they were shooting concurrently. I remember one day he came back from filming in Utah with a terrible farmer’s tan that made continuity really difficult, and I was pretty mad, but it’s hard to stay mad at Jimmy.
KJ: He was surrounded by aliens on all sides.
GA: He was doing two alien movies, a giant Hollywood one and a weird punk indie one.
KJ: What are your thoughts on the concept of apocalypse in 2023?
GA: I had no idea in the ‘90s that things would get even more fucked up by 2023. I just hope that the world can survive for a few more years. Between climate change, Trump, the war in Ukraine…it makes the mid ‘90s seem comparatively ideal, peaceful even. I hope the world can course correct itself a little bit and we can get back to dreaming about the apocalypse, as opposed to looking at it directly in the face every fucking day.
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Interview by Kamikaze Jones @kamikazejones_
Photography by Alexandra Kacha (@alexandrakacha)