“I Always Write for Places Where They Won’t Kick Me Out”: Kazik Radwanski on Matt and Mara
Matt and Mara presents a familiar premise—two old friends with an unresolved romantic connection reconnect years after their lives have diverged—but Canadian writer-director Kazik Radwanski turns this potentially contrived narrative into an organic examination of interpersonal dynamics that’s tailored to the strengths of his performers and longtime creative collaborators Deragh Campbell and Matt Johnson. When Matt (Johnson) grabs the attention of creative writing professor Mara (Campbell) right before she’s about to start class, it’s clear both are looking to break out of their ruts. Mara is out of sync with her musician husband Samir (Mounir Al Shami) amidst the daily stresses of juggling professional duties with parenting; Matt, a published author with some local renown, has returned to his home city of Toronto for an extended stay to look after his father. An emotional affair (in the words of Olivia Nuzzi) arises.
Using a working method involving improvisation and docu-style social realism developed over his career, Radwanski captures the ways the eponymous characters navigate loaded social situations, while Campbell and Johnson imbue their characters with a largely unspoken backstory, hinting at decades-old relationship rhythms and feelings. Together, they create a low-key yet undoubtedly tense atmosphere that invites the audience to walk an emotional tightrope alongside the characters.
Ahead of the film’s premiere at TIFF, I spoke with Radwanski about the film’s gestation, working with Campbell and Johnson, and shooting with a small crew on the streets of Toronto and Niagara Falls. The film is now in US release from Cinema Guild.
Filmmaker: Part of the tension in Matt and Mara comes from the characters, and part comes from Deragh and Matt’s different performance styles. There’s an awareness on the film’s part about their established on-screen personas.
Radwanski: A lot of it grew out of Anne at 13,000 Ft. That was the first time we put them together on screen, and we weren’t sure if it was a good idea. Both Matt and Deragh were quite cautious about it, too. They both knew and respected each other, but they still thought maybe it would be strange or they would clash. But it was incredible. There’s a deep trust between the two of them; they’re both filmmakers in their own right and both make films that use documentary elements in their own process, [whether it’s] trying to work with a non-actor or a live location. In some ways, they’re almost co-directing the scene with me. They’re also both self-aware that they’re playing a little bit with their instincts [around] their own personas. Matt in particular: his decision to use his own name, that’s what he likes to do. Deragh, I think, is intrigued by that too, but her process is different. She likes to research. She collaborated a lot with Emma [Healey, a poet and writer who plays her friend and confidante], wrote lectures and all these things. Deragh and Mara almost rhyme.
I think [Matt] has done Second City classes, full-on comedy improv. Improv can mean so many different things; he is so good at winning people over and doing a bit and riffing. Deragh’s amazing at cutting through something or knowing when not to talk. She’s the perfect foil for Matt. There’s a lot of shared integrity, but it manifests in different ways. Even when we do a Q&A, it feels like a scene from the movie because they debate and disagree, but they also just have such different interpretations of their characters, what scenes actually meant, or even, like, “Is love possible?” I think that happens with the characters as well, too. There’s certainly a meta level, but it’s not a direct line. If there’s a concept I have for a scene and they don’t like it, they show it in different ways, then that becomes a dance of how we navigate a scene. For instance, in that cafe scene, Deragh getting frustrated—it almost seems like I could see them falling in love with that moment, or exploding, and I’m supporting a discovery there. That subway scene where Matt is riffing very hard about her short husband, he’s doing it to be funny, but he’s also just teasing Deragh. Even Mounir, who plays the husband, I was talking to him, I’m like, “How is that for you? Would you want to do it again?” He’s like, “I want a rematch.” There’s a bit of sport there.
Filmmaker: All of your films are built from the ground up with the actors. I’m curious how you’ve gotten better at directing performers or what you’ve learned about collaboration over the years.
Radwanski: A big part of it is patience. We shoot over quite a long period of time and invest so much in friends or a system that can maintain a lot of changes, but at the same time allow us to go back and work on things. With my earlier work, I would write these scripts and think I was at least self-aware enough that I was a young, very angsty filmmaker [with] somewhat embarrassing ideas. I’ve always been interested in depressed or aloof characters, or people that stick out, but what really grounded it was filtering those ideas through a real persona. Some of that is being pragmatic, but also a big part of that is the way a person talks. With [How Heavy This] Hammer, I wanted [the main character to be] an expat to be a rugby player. My parents are both from England, so he needed to be an English guy who plays rugby. [The actor was] Flemish, with a weird Dutch Flemish accent. Nobody can place it. Whenever they watch, they’re like, “Is he Québecois?” I remember thinking it’s not gonna work, but after a while, it slowly ended up being perfect. I don’t think it’s that different when it’s with Matt and Deragh, but now it’s my friends or fellow artists, and it’s almost like they’re investigating with me.
Filmmaker: Did you start with locations? Did scenes build out of like, “We need an apartment, we need a college”?
Radwanski: With Anne at 13,000 Ft., there was a full formal screenplay, like 90 pages. Matt and Mara, script outline—80 beats, scene descriptions: “Niagara Falls,” “Road trip,” “University setting. Office hours.” The café scene was in the script. Sometimes we don’t know if a location is possible; I write with what’s possible. Anne at 13,000 Ft., that’s set at a daycare because my mom has run that daycare for 40 years. Matt and Mara is set at a university because I’m a professor. The bulk of Matt and Mara is set in my apartment. I’ve been doing so many Zoom interviews—this is one of the first in-person ones; my Zoom background is the bookshelf from the final shot. I always write for places where they won’t kick me out or where we can go back. I remember hearing that from Nathan Silver with Exit Elena; that’s why he’s always shooting at his mom’s house. It’s certainly how my brain works. Other things I’m doing are beyond practical, like pulling sentiment from places that are meaningful to me. The bulk of this film was shot downtown and I did my undergrad in that area.
Filmmaker: Are the locations effective guardrails for building scenes?
Radwanski: Yeah, but they all manifest differently. Something like the daycare scenes [in Anne at 13,000 Ft. with] children, that’s gonna really shape the atmosphere. Other times, it’s like, “Let’s try to cheat it.” Something I’ve always done through my proces is to almost find [an opening] scene that can ground the film. I did it in Anne at 13,000 Ft.; the first scene she jumps out of the plane. In my first short film [Assault], the callback was this young guy who’s just been arrested, blackout drunk, didn’t remember what happened, wakes up with a charge sheet and has to find a lawyer. We just gave him a Yellow Pages and had him call real lawyers. But that was just a thing to guarantee a moment or something almost literal. Matt and Mara is a bit of a different film, but the earliest scenes we shot were the walking scenes. We would just walk. We’d do a 20-minute take and then walk for another 20 minutes. But there was something about walking, talking, conversation, afternoon atmosphere that I wanted to figure out.
Filmmaker: It’s where the chemistry comes through, too.
Radwanski: Yeah, and it was also the newest aspect of the film. That was what we tested the most as well. It almost grew out of camera tests. We knew that we needed to stabilize the camera more, that it couldn’t be as frenetic as the other films. At the same time, it became quite clear that a Steadicam operator, even to have someone on call, for number of reasons would be impossible to budget. It’s just not possible for the length of the shoot and how sporadic it was.
Filmmaker: You’re worked with your DP for a while. I imagine there is an efficient working method you guys have at that point.
Radwanski: Nikolay [Michaylov] is amazing. When you watch the film, in terms of framing, clearly there’s a dance between Nikolay and the actors. Actors lead the action, camera responds to it. In the last two features, Nikolay pulled his own focus. We had a first AC on this film.
Filmmaker: Is there a reason for that?
Radwanski: The camera. We always own the camera, so we always invest in the camera. The broad model of how we shoot is somewhat inspired by a documentary shoot, so we’ve always gravitated towards prosumer cameras. It was the same camera for How Heavy This Hammer and Anne at 13,000 Ft., but we were pushing our luck with Anne at 13,000 Ft. [Anne was] barely 2K, then this film was a jump to 6K, which was the opposite but also a very difficult workflow. It was almost impossible to watch playback. We were shooting on the street, but the turnaround was too slow to be able to reflect or rewatch on the fly. I think it was also the gimbal that we ended up using. Nikolay would be [operating] the gimbal, then the first AC would pull the focus. That would still be a very stripped-down crew; we wanted to be able to shoot with a small footprint. We wanted to be able to go anywhere, and that’s like a feeling I’ve always liked about my films. There is a strategy of working with a low budget and keeping it small, but there’s also freedom. We can go wherever we want to and this can feel the way it should feel. Just, you know, walking down a street like this [points to John Street], you can do that in Toronto with a grid permit. You’ve just got to keep the crew size small enough, but you can shoot anywhere. You don’t have to shut down the street or anything.
Filmmaker: How many people were on your crew when you were walking around?
Radwanski: At the smallest, it’s Nikolay walking backwards and a boom operator. I’m with the focus puller on the video assist, so we can spread out a bit more and be further apart. There’s people in vans nearby. People love to yell at a film crew. It’s rush hour, they’re pissed off—“Get the fuck out of my way!” They almost want the catharsis of saying, “You made my day a bit more difficult.” Because Nikolay grew up skateboarding, he’s very familiar with finding places to skate and everyone hating him. He’s also naturally acrobatic, so he’s walking backwards up Yonge Street, weaving through people. He’s the perfect guy to do it.
Filmmaker: Is Matt a good driver?
Radwanski: Matt has done a lot of driving scenes in his own movies. He behaved himself when we were shooting with him. He liked us to almost think he was gonna burn out or do donuts; I think he’s done that in his own movies. Matt is a little too confident with driving, but when we actually filmed it was very safe. I find that some terrible arguments I get into are when I’m driving somewhere—something about the feeling of driving and you’re trapped with someone. A lot of the film is free-flowing, or at least you see two characters walking around the street. Now, it’s in this car and they’re trapped with each other. Even when we’re talking about Nikolay’s blocking, we can move around and adjust. Here, we’re locked in.
Filmmaker: Can you talk about shooting at Niagara Falls?
Radwanski: Initially, it was just meant to be a pin to be like, “Okay, they’re actually outside of Toronto.” No one’s commented on it yet, but we did not go to Ithaca [in the scene when Matt and Mara attend a literary conference there]. That’s all Burlington and Mississauga. One of those venues is actually Innis Town Hall in Toronto. It’s a bit of a cinematheque and people have clocked that one.
Initially, we went there very humbly: “Let’s just get the Falls in the background.” I was worried it might be hard to frame, that we’d always have to have them stand somewhere to get the Falls to play, but it was very easy to shoot. I guess that’s why it is such a destination: it’s very easy to photograph. We got a permit and were just roaming around. There’s a bunch of great scenes with other tourists that didn’t make the cut. The plan wasn’t for them to kiss. We were there and it felt like they were gonna kiss, so we went aside and talked through it. It was always meant to be an emotional affair, not really a sexual affair. But for there to be an emotional betrayal, is the real betrayal not something salacious or sexual? The kiss changed it, but how could we not use it? The decision was like, “This is a bubble.” This is such a strange place under the Falls, where it could be contained, then the rest of the film would play out as it was supposed to.
Filmmaker: How long was the shoot?
Radwanski: It was very prolonged. We started shooting the summer of 2021 and it was too much pandemic. Even just walking up Yonge Street felt too strange. Summer of 2022 is when we actually shot it and that’s when Matt was also starting Blackberry. Matt’s schedule became very difficult, so we were shooting around it and it just became very stretched out. Then we cut it for about a year in 2023. It was ready just in time for Berlin.
Filmmaker: You hang a lampshade on Rohmer’s influence on the film when Mara imitates a specific gesture Bernard Verley makes in Love in the Afternoon. What other influences were you thinking about?
Radwanski: Rohmer and Hong Sang-Soo were starting points, two directors with big bodies of work that are always orbiting these moments. I guess Rohmer is obvious because we pointed to it, but people have made a lot of other comparisons to films that I would argue were also influenced by Rohmer. That’s why we wanted to make such a point of pinning that. I also just like the gesture. I was more encouraged than usual to make those sort of allusions because it’s Matt and Deragh. I want them to be cinematic personas.
Filmmaker: It seems like those characters would make that allusion as well.
Radwanski: I love that Deragh has this incredible body work now with Sofia [Bohdanowicz], and then Matt, too. That’s a new thing for Toronto, at least for our generation. I love the idea of there being a little moment and Deragh and Matt are central figures, so I think that encouraged us to nod our hats to more classic films from other places. Another big one, how I explained the film to Matt, was Brief Encounter. As soon as Matt heard Brief Encounter, he’s like, “I’m in.” He loves David Lean. I don’t know if you’ve seen his stupid joke he does. It’s that meme from years ago. “A Lean night.” I think when he’s interviewed by Letterboxd or something, it’s all be David Lean films. He’s like, “Doing a Lean night.” But I think he also does quite like the film. Minnie and Moskowitz, that’s another pretty obvious one. Rohmer, it’s Love in the Afternoon, but also The Green Ray. The dinner table scene with all the other musicians is referencing the vegetarian scene from Green Ray, this person against everyone.
Nikolay watched a lot of Steadicam stuff when we were trying to think of how to shoot it. There was that Bulgarian film, 3/4. We didn’t quite do that, but we definitely talked about their use of Steadicam quite a bit, which is different. It was interesting studying movies where you think there’s incredible Steadicam work, then you watch it and it’s actually a little chaotic. I watched Angst and it’s just nuts. There’s a lot of inconsistencies. But if it works, it works. There can be this thing of searching for perfect stabilization or symmetry. When you see masterful examples of it that aren’t quite perfect, it helps.
Filmmaker: I’m curious how your teaching career bleeds into your filmmaking career. Do you use the things you teach students as lessons you bring to set?
Radwanski: Yeah, in both ways. I certainly will bring concrete anecdotes to the classroom. It’s nice being around film students because sometimes you are reflecting on those things. That is sort of the hidden backstory We don’t know exactly what Matt and Mara’s relationship was when they were in undergrad together, but it is a time when you have ideals. You learn something about yourself, and they know each other very well because of that. If she [first] encountered him at this age, it wouldn’t be the same, but they had that same four years when they were more passionate. That’s why I like being around film students. I struggle with professionals that become jaded, but when you’re around young people, they’re just so inspired. Everything is life and death.
Filmmaker: Are you still learning from them?
Radwanski: Sure, and also reflecting on how I felt [when I was their age]. So much of filmmaking is interpersonal dynamics and what is a good collaboration. People ask me, “Should I go to film school? What do you get from film school?” You get four years of a cohort, lots of chances to collaborate with different people. It’s a safe way to collaborate. It’s very tough working with an editor or producer for the first time. It’s normal for these collaborations to not go great, but at least a system to navigate and normally another chance. There’s a lot of actual students in the film. When casting students for those office hours seems, we would have them bring their work in. They would have a short story, film or play they’re working on and literally workshop it with Deragh. We really wanted that bit of vulnerability.
Filmmaker: Given your reputation and extensive work in the Canadian film industry, how has your relationship to Telefilm Canada changed over the course of your career?
Radwanski: It hasn’t changed that much, but maybe it will. We’ve always produced within our own circle. We’ve never worked with a more senior producer. With this film, we really tested the limits of the smaller scale. It’s twice the budget of Anne but still under a million. There is another leap of working with broadcasters in the next budget level. Telefilm has been supportive after the fact when it plays at festivals, and in small ways more and more. For Anne, they came on for post-production. The first half was [Toronto] Arts Council, the second half was them. To be fair, the way I conceptualize films is pretty idiosyncratic and unconventional, but when those projects worked, they always promoted them and gave us money to help distribute them. To me, it’s a personal question—not “Will Telefilm say yes or no?,” but, “Do I want to change our mode of production and have 50 people on set instead of 10 or 15? Do I want to work with agents?” Matt’s schedule is difficult enough.
Filmmaker: Has it become more difficult to get money over the years or has the process of getting money just changed?
Radwanski: It’s an unexciting answer, but it’s always been about the same. I’ve always seen it as an advantage, because I’ve always been friends with American filmmakers. We made Tower for $50,000 because of Arts Council, but I knew at the same time there are filmmakers in the States doing Indiegogo campaigns or self-funding. I always felt fortunate, and that’s the thing, it’s all about perspective. $50,000 is still a huge amount of money. At the same time, it’s absolutely nothing, but it’s all how you’re collaborating and how you’re working with it.
Filmmaker: Is there a cap?
Radwanski: Without getting into too far into it, we maxed out what Telefilm could contribute at 50%. Over a certain threshold, it goes down to 30 or 40%. We didn’t want too many funders or strings attached to it, and that’s something that became very clear during the pandemic. A lot of this funding is reliant on a pre-sale or a broadcast date, quite often to VOD or streaming. It’s a fate that befalls a lot of Canadian films. They’ll premiere here at TIFF, then go on VOD a couple months later and won’t really live. That’s why we’re so excited about working with Cinema Guild and having a brick-and-mortar theatrical release. We don’t really think about profiting off these films, but we want them to exist, and for there to be discourse around them and play in theaters and have a life. The fear is that if there’s too many funders that it might get pushed out or sucked onto to VOD. There’s a danger of that happening even with this current process. As great as streaming services are, they’re quite aggressive.