Back to selection
“Compassion Should Rule the Day, Not Punishment”: Director Cole Webley on His Sundance-Premiering Drama, Omaha
Still from Omaha. Courtesy of Sundance Institute. A family of four—an unnamed Dad (John Magaro), his children Ella and Charlie (Molly Belle Wright and Wyatt Solis), and their Golden Retriever—hit the road at the start of Omaha, towards Nebraska. We don’t get to know too much about them at first—just that they have an old car that needs a little push, and they’ve been evicted from their home, forced to collect their most treasured possessions quickly, like they are saving memorabilia during a fire. We don’t even know why they are heading there.
Cole Webley’s deeply compassionate gut-punch of a movie, which premiered in the U.S. Dramatic Competition section of this year’s Sundance Film Festival, is one that should be experienced without spoilers. So with a major spoiler warning here (you should see the film first before reading much of this interview), suffice to say that Dad is driving them to Omaha to ultimately take advantage of a heart-wrenching loop-hole in the state law that involves child abandonment, and perhaps get some help for himself and his family living below the poverty line.
With Omaha frequent commercial director Webley delivers an intimately human portrait of a loving yet financially troubled family, juxtaposed again expansive landscapes during their mysterious road-trip. Below is our conversation with Webley, wrapped during Sundance.
Filmmaker: The script is Robert Machoian’s, inspired by true stories. Could you talk about the start of it for you?
Cole Webley: Robert was really at the forefront of this experience because he had spent time living in Omaha. It resonated with him because that was his home for a couple years. When he wrote that script, he wanted to approach it in a way that was less nonfiction, and more [embracing of] the why and the sentiment around these parents. What if we actually really examined this moment in this state’s history with a little more compassion?
When I read the script, it was important for me to imagine if we could put a microscope on one family’s experience. And we had the research to back that up—in most cases, these were people who were reeling from a recent tragedy, dealing with trauma or mental health struggles. They could not get any government assistance in the way of going through the proper channels. And so some of these parents had said at a certain point, “We knew that if we just left them, the state would be immediately responsible for them, and we wouldn’t have to wait our turn to get the help we need.” We looked at this and said, “Okay, this isn’t a documentary. This is a fictionalized account.” And [we came] to his idea of fatherhood and masculinity as a theme.
Filmmaker: And you are really examining a different shade of masculinity here, a gentler and more vulnerable kind we don’t often see.
Webley: We always have this idea that that our moms are the nurturers and the dads are the providers. I think our dad in this movie was very much built in that model and his inability to ask for help is an undertone through the whole movie. There’s a moment of transcendence for him at the end. What he says to that nurse [without spoilers], to me, was the whole reason that we wanted to make the film. He’s stuck in his grief, he’s stuck in his turmoil. For him to break through and be able to ask for the help was like, we weren’t just wallowing in the sadness of the story. We gave some compassion to these people who were otherwise just a statistic. And pulled back on some things that we can learn to do a bit better as a society.
I’ve got four children. Robert has five or six. My producer has five, my DP has four. We all have these big families, and it’s been a wonderful thing. Obviously I’m in a place much more privileged than the dad in this film, but recognizing that you’re in a place that you need a hand was where I felt like everything came together.
Filmmaker: One of the things I love about the script is how much information you’re providing vs. withholding. We are, in a way, in the kids’ shoes in this journey, not knowing a lot about the destination. What went into finding that balance? What were the conversations with Robert like?
Webley: That was the intellectual journey of the edit. There is kind of the emotional journey: is it landing? Are the beats working? How close can we ride this line before we have an audience that’s frustrated? But many have not been, because I feel like we’ve got to this line by asking, “What do you need to know?” You know what [the situation] is, you see that turmoil. There were beats in the script that we dialed up just a touch when we shot it. Did I shoot [extra things], like the close-up of the mother’s photo? Absolutely. Did I use it? No. Did I shoot a closeup of the eviction papers on the door? Absolutely. But I didn’t use it. So we did those things and then balanced them out. And we wanted to give a bit more context to the presence of the mother in their lives, that these kids came from a good, loving home. You feel that with the father, but having her presence known in the movie was something that we came upon later and added in the edit. You’re juxtaposing that against a father who was unable to break through his grief and be what is necessary now. He has a lot more responsibility. There is stuff in the car you don’t even see—whole back was full of contractor’s gear. I’m glad you said that about the balance, which was very difficult to find.
Filmmaker: John Magaro is one of the greatest actors working today. And he brings so much depth into this film. What went into casting him?
Webley: Everybody was really nervous about Dad—how will the audience not just turn their backs on him and be angry at this man? And for me, it was just about casting, I’m going to do 90% of the work if we cast the right person. John was someone I had been familiar with for a long time, who made this incredible turn in First Cow. He’s so tender in that movie—that’s where I kept thinking that he can get the warmth, the soft and the docile. And then the angst I felt in Past Lives where he so delicately balanced this inner conflict. I was so smitten by his performance, he had a hard thing to do in that movie.
I was friends with a writer friend of his, Samm Hodges. They had a short in Sundance two years ago. And then he was premiering a movie at Tribeca that he had shot with one of my dear friends [director Shane Atkinson] from undergrad at film school, called LaRoy, Texas. And the final cherry on top was the most sweet—the incredible DP, Christopher Blauvelt who shoots all of Kelly Reichardt’s films, I’ve had the blessing to work with in commercials. I reached out to Chris and I just said, “Would you please just let John know, like, I’m normal?” (Laughs). That’s what this business really is, built on relationships and trust. And for John to get that from people he trusted and then to just get hit with that script, that affected him deeply… We did a Zoom, and by the end he said, “I’m in. Let’s do it, man.” I’m a first-time feature director, and he trusted me.
I see my job directing as mostly guide rails. I don’t like to talk a lot about backstory. I want my actors to take their role, and their job is to go and find that person. And John came prepared. And I was making sure I had given John every opportunity within the scene to nail who this man was. He’s now a dear friend too, and I just love the guy.
Filmmaker: You’re obviously on an indie budget here, but the road trip looks and feels expansive, it feels classical in a way—big, despite being intimate. How did you pull off that vastness in feeling?
Webley: I love to talk about this—it was as important to build that visual experience as our performances. I’ve done a lot of work with DP Paul Meyers in the commercial space. We studied a ton of photo book references and we wanted this to feel as timeless as it could be. It’s a period film set in 2008, but it was essential to feel like we couldn’t tell if it was shot in early aughts or in the ‘70s.
We came in with a very specific POV. We were like, “We can’t shoot on film, but this needs to have the patina of film.” We shot on the Alexa 35. We tested every lens out there and ended up shooting on Zeiss Super Speeds. They are like the Toyota of lenses—cheap, accessible, there’s lots of them. And they are great. They were small, as we needed them to fit inside the vehicle.
I had more blocking ideas for this movie than we got to put in it. And that was because I cast a 6-year-old in the movie. (Laughs) Day one and two, I just had John and Molly, and Molly’s like a professional actress. She was 9 at the time, and she’s incredible. I can’t wait to see her blossom. It was like working with two adults when she was in the room, so I could block a scene and do whatever. But when we got into this car, it just became really clear that Wyatt was not going to do the same thing twice. So we said, “Okay, this whole movie is going to be either locked off or handheld. I think there is one pan in the whole movie—when the kids go out to the Salt Flats, we pan off Dad to the back window. They’re framed up beautifully—it’s one of my favorite shots in the movie. And then there’s only one drone. I went to New York, and started cutting the movie as fast as we could. And Paul just went for like six days, shooting second unit on the car. He shot all these incredible shots for our opening credits when we were leaving the town. Before, I was so distraught, I couldn’t figure out why the movie wasn’t working. And then we got in the expansiveness and finally, I could cut my movie together where it was the intimate juxtaposed with the expansiveness. We’re in these really beautiful, quiet, intense moments inside the car. And then you’ll step out and [see the contrast].
I didn’t want the film to feel “pretty,” you know? And Paul and I worked very hard on the finished picture, to the effect of every single shot having a specific grain level on it. A slight alation that we added in post for every shot to back away from digital and get a little closer to 16mm or 35mm film.
Two pivotal scenes in the movie: they pull over and Dad says, “I gotta take a leak.” And Charlie says, “What’s a leak?” And then we just have a little moment where they’re dancing. That was an impromptu scene. And similarly, the flashback or flash forward, however you see it after the hospital scene at the end, was also an impromptu scene. Paul and I saw those spaces and said, “Let’s just go shoot something. And maybe it finds its way into the edit.” And boy, I’m so glad I have those moments.
Filmmaker: The kids are terrific, both Molly Belle Wright and Wyatt Solis. What were some of the ground rules you had towards working with such young actors? At the Sundance Q&A, John Magaro was talking about a technique he learned from James Gandolfini when they made Not Fade Away together.
Webley: I knew that I could never lose their trust. And I couldn’t be like the assistant principal at a school. I knew that they were going to need—specifically Wyatt—some guide rails, otherwise he would just bounce everywhere. If Wyatt doesn’t want to be there, you’re going to know it and not get anything. And if he’s cool being there, and he gets into it, he has life that springs forth from his eyes and his personality. I love him to death. He needed to be corralled a bit and guided, and we had his great parents on set the whole time, they were helpful. I just wanted him to feel safe, and we still had to do the job. So that part was tricky. And to John’s and Molly’s credit, they always made it so that Wyatt felt like he was there with us as a family because he wanted to be there.
Molly was always game. She’s got a little brother named Freddy about the same age. We all just said, “Let’s make ourselves this little family pack. And for 28 days, we’re not going to have the drama of a real family.” (laughs) And John was like a part of their extended family, and it gave the parents security. As for the acting aspect, John knew if the kids needed a little bit of help in any moment. Like if Wyatt wasn’t getting it or saying the line wrong, then he would do that Gandolfini [repetition] thing, and he would just go, “Say it again. Say it again. Say it again.” I feel like I should share directing credit on set with John for what he did with these kids. He was fabulous.
Filmmaker: You conceived and shot this movie in a different political climate, a different America. I couldn’t help but think of how much worse it’s going to get for people like Dad, people living in poverty. I’m wondering if you’re thinking about the increased urgency, considering where the country has shifted now.
Webley: Absolutely. And if I wanted this movie to do anything without being didactic, it would be that it places humanity upon the people on the edges and the fringes of our society. We’re so ready to forget them because we don’t know them or see them every day. We’re so ready to judge them, ready to say, “deport them.” But these are people who are trying. And if they’re not trying, they probably need help and a loving system that is going to provide options rather than punishment. The sentiment is compassion and understanding and reaching out as a neighbor to offer help, rather than punishment. I truly believe in this idea of mourning with people who are mourning.
The idea that you can just poo-poo something because you’ve never been in that situation, or you can’t see or feel it, it really scares me as a society, that insular feeling that we don’t have to think about that because we’re not going through it. Or we don’t like someone because we think they’re illegal or this or that. I’m proud that this film is timely. I would guarantee you that this guy probably didn’t vote blue. He seems like a blue collar dude. He seems like he’s from a small town. He probably was raised in a conservative environment, who knows how he voted. But I can tell you that for me, as someone who definitely isn’t aligned with what’s happening [politically in the country], I see this man as a human being who’s struggling and has trauma. Compassion should rule the day, not punishment.
