Rhonda Lee Reali speaks with Steve Read about directing Gary Numan: Android In Lala Land, Asperger syndrome, and inspiration.
Imagine being a 21-year-old music megastar with the world at your feet but basically being in your own world mostly on your own. A ton of delights were electro-pop wiz Gary Numan’s to sample, but he couldn’t enjoy many of them. He was a loner, more in sync with synthesizers and planes. The press pronounced him a freak. He first materialised in the late 70s as leader of the band Tubeway Army. They had a No. 1 single, Are ‘Friends’ Electric? then Numan went on to even bigger fame going solo. His album The Pleasure Principle and the single Cars shot to the top of the charts, also, but his stage fright was so bad that he hid behind props and images to mask his shyness. When he wasn’t touring, he was living in one room of his mansion (because the rest of the place frightened him) and cooking the same chips dinner every night. Later, his career took a nosedive. He was near bankruptcy, and album sales had fallen. Though he still toured and made records and had his base of hardcore fans – Numanoids – he wasn’t flavour of the month any longer. The late 80s/early 90s were lean periods. What the public didn’t realise was Numan has Asperger syndrome, a high-functioning form of autism. People affected with this have difficulty with social interactions and exhibit a restricted range of interests and/or repetitive behaviours. Personal relationships can be especially challenging and stressful. Numan says, “If I wasn’t in a band, I wouldn’t have had a girlfriend in my whole life. I’ve got no chat with women at all. None.”
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But the universe is right again and his fans are over the moon. It took seven years to complete, but his 24th disc, Splinter (Songs From A Broken Mind), was released in 2013 and debuted at No. 20 on the charts (a feat Numan hasn’t achieved since 1983). He had also decamped to Los Angeles with his wife, Gemma and three young daughters. Despite dealing with depression and anxiety problems since turning 50, he’s continued to create. Numan couldn’t have pulled himself together and had this comeback if it wasn’t for Gemma. As corny as it sounds, they truly are soul mates (she wanted to marry him since she was a girl) and they’ve both been to the brink and managed to survive. All this and more is in the new documentary, Gary Numan: Android In La La Land, by director Steve Read and director/producer Rob Alexander. This is the team’s second project together. They previously partnered for the critically acclaimed Channel Four doc Knockout Scousers (Read’s debut). Alexander, who’s been producing drama and documentary projects for over a decade (including for the BBC) recently added the Grierson-nominated The Man Whose Mind Exploded to his CV. Read’s educational background is in art design, and he was a founding member of the hugely successful men’s magazine, Loaded. After his position there as art director, he moved onto photography, which he still works at today. Gary Numan: Android In La La Land is his first full-length documentary, which was edited down from maybe 500 hours and took two years to film. “I shot everything. I did all the interviews,” said Read. Alexander (who paid for most of the doc) ended up doing a lot on the film’s narrative and on editing afterwards, plus he was there recording sound throughout. “That’s why we decided to share the director’s credit. Rob didn’t just finance the film,” continued Read. He said they both did more than what traditionally their roles called for because it was just the two of them. Read is keeping tight-lipped about his next project because he doesn’t have the “right pieces in place to start calling it a film” but that hopefully he’ll get assistance to make another doc, this time about “a big personality but someone in sport entertainment” rather than music. What follows is more from our phone conversation:
How did you get involved in the film? Were you a fan?
Steve Read: No, not really. I certainly am a fan now, but at the time, I didn’t know much about Gary. I knew him because he was obviously famous, and I knew he was important within music. I knew his songs from the early days. My sister was into him, but I hadn’t been following him. For all I knew, he wasn’t around anymore, but obviously, he had been. He’d been touring and making albums every other year or so. I was at the Hop Farm Festival, saw that he was playing there and thought, ‘Hey, I’ll go and check him out.’ I recognised a few of the old songs like Cars and Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, but they were played with more of a heavier industrial sound. I’m into industrial music, so I really liked it. I thought Gary was amazing jumping around onstage. His performance was incredible. So, I came away from that gig and was running into people telling them how good Gary Numan was. A friend introduced me to him backstage. I went from sort of not knowing anything about him, to being really impressed and then actually meeting the guy. I had finished working with Rob Alexander and Knockout Scousers was about to come out on the TV in England on Channel 4. I was looking for another subject to tackle, another film to make. Fortunately for me, Gary presented himself as just that. I ran off into the night after 20 minutes chatting with him with his number scribbled on my wrist. Did a bit of research the next few days, phoned him up, and we got going fairly quickly after that.
How much access and freedom did you have filming Gary and his family?
We had total freedom, really. The film’s strength is the amount of access we got. Access came from the amount of trust we gained early days. I think to make a successful documentary, it’s about trust and access. The more trust you get, the more access you get. And we enjoyed a huge amount from the first couple of sessions we started filming Gary, then his family.
For a documentary, you seemed to keep people to a minimum apart from the immediate family and a small core. Was that a conscious decision?
Yeah. The film really is a love story more than anything else. It just happened to be a love story about someone who’s very famous – and Gary Numan is someone who’s really important in electronic music – but at the heart of it, it’s a love story. There was no need to film loads of other people. Gemma is almost as important as Gary, and the kids, they’re very important as well. We don’t even have that many rock-doc talking heads in there, either. There’s a few that really matter, but we realised early on that we were going to make an observational film rather than a more conventional talking heads-type film because we were getting all this access. There isn’t even that much archive. That’s partly down to finance. We didn’t have a million quid to spend. Being with [the family] for so long allowed their guard to come down, allowed the trust to come out and allowed us to get those intimate scenes. That obviously set it apart from what you would normally define as a rock-doc. It’s part rock-doc, part road trip, part love story, part therapy session.
Did you have an idea of what direction you wanted to go before you started filming?
It presented itself to us, really. That situation. We didn’t know that much about him. I didn’t even know he was going to America until the day after I met him. That was one thing that came to us, so we were finding out stuff as the audience does, which was nice. We didn’t know the album was going to be any good and that it was going to be well-received, so that was a huge relief. We didn’t know anything about [Gary’s] parent’s bust-up. Half the time, we didn’t know what we were able to film. It was a case of you have to ask yourself, ‘Ok, we’ve got the budget to do two more shoots out in LA in the next three months. What are they going to be? What’s more important?’ We certainly had an idea of the direction throughout and motivation. It was impossible to storyboard because things were coming at us all the time. I didn’t know I was going on holiday camping with Gary Numan and his family. [Laughs] It would have been nice to have known that, nice to storyboard stuff like that. It just came out of me overhearing them talk backstage one night. I went, ‘Gary, any chance we could come with you on that?’ and he was like, ‘Of course you can.’
How much influence did Gary and Gemma have?
Not a lot. They let us film anything we wanted. From reading the bedtime stories, to going on holiday, to being onstage with him every time I wanted to be. In terms of direction, it was just a case of letting us get on with it. After they saw the first cut, they had their comments on that. We changed a few things he really wasn’t happy with. The film we ended up with is a film we’re really happy with.
What wasn’t Gary happy with?
Nothing specific, a few minor things. Gary’s got a very different brain to Rob and I. Maybe that’s the Asperger’s in him. He likes things to be in exactly the right place. I think whatever he might have minor problems with, hopefully he’ll be ok with after time. It’s a very warts and all, very up close and personal film. If we don’t get some issues from Gary, I don’t think we’ve done our job properly, to be honest. We ironed out most of it. I’m sure he’s happy now because we’re getting four stars in all the papers.
Who thought up the title?
I did. [Gary] says both of those things in the film, weirdly enough, but I had already thought of the title fairly early on before we went to LA.
He doesn’t still think of himself like that, as an android?
No, he doesn’t, but the la la land bit is more than his move to LA. He talks about being in la la land for a period of time when he’s not writing music, and he’s on the anti-depressants. That had a double meaning to it. When he was 21, he was a huge star and on Top Of The Pops and The Old Grey Whistle Test and selling millions of records. You can understand why he would retreat into that kind of protection. That’s why he wore the makeup and became this very isolated figure, but he’s not like that at all now, and obviously the film shows that as well. A lot of people watch the film and go, ‘Gee, that Gary Numan’s really funny’ or ‘I didn’t realise he’d be so open.’ He’s very much not an android. He’s come out of his shell. The other thing that’s really important that we focused on are his struggles with mental issues. Depression, anxiety attacks and so on. We have Gary talking in a very raw delivery about this stuff. Some people see it as a joke, the idea of a mid-life crisis, but here’s Gary, this famous guy, and he’s delivering this stuff very honestly about experiences he’s been through. I think it will help highlight these issues but also help other guys – and women – that watch it, deal with something they’re perhaps going through as well. For me, it’s my proudest moment of the film that Gary’s talking about this. These are issues that he was getting his own head around, because he was writing and singing about this for the album. Later on, he was much more versed in how to talk about it. People have been crying in the audience at times, mixed with laughter because they’re feeling the pain he’s been through. It’s incredibly difficult to live with [mental health issues]. To be going through it yourself is really hard, but it’s also really, really hard for your partner or family because it changes everything in your lives. It can finish people off. It can be the end of a man or a family. It’s a very serious matter that can be dealt with, and people get through it. Obviously, Gary has done.
Did you know that Gary had Asperger syndrome before you started filming?
No, I didn’t, but that came out in the first interview he did – the shots against the pink wall. You can see how it informed his stage persona when he was younger and also informed a lot of his lyrics, I think. Cars, Are ‘Friends’ Electric?, all isolationist writing. So, it certainly adds up that he would have this condition. I know Gary Numan who’s the guy who wrote Cars, but it’s still an issue that’s universal. In terms of the Asperger syndrome, it’s something that people are talking about now. Not so long ago, I didn’t know anything about it, but my godson was diagnosed with Asperger’s. About 10 years ago, so I’ve been used to it. I think the whole subject is fairly new. It’s good that it’s coming to the fore. There’s a film, Hot Dog-something in Toronto with our film, and there’s this Asperger’s film there as well.
Do you think that’s one reason why so many fans are drawn to him and his music, because they have AS?
Yeah. It says that you’re ok to be an outsider. Isn’t it? A lot of his fans feel an affinity or a connection with Gary other than just liking the sounds he creates. Someone in the film actually says, ‘When I was a teenager, it made me feel ok to be an outsider listening to Gary’s music.’ Initially, we had a lot more fans in, but we had so much stuff we had to cut them out. I think they’re going to be on the extras, on the DVD. [They] are amazing. Not just the older fans that have seen Gary play 700 times. Which there are out people out there that seen him play that many times – four, five, six hundred times – but also the younger fans that are coming to gigs. Either because they’re the kids of the parents that have been following so long or new fans that have gotten into Gary’s music. They’ve all been brilliant to us and very supportive. [They’ve] followed us through the ups and downs of making the film for nearly four years. Once they get into something, they’ll back you for whatever you go through, and it’s been the same with Gary, also.
In the beginning, Gary says he moved to LA because he wanted to be composing soundtracks. How’s that going?
He’s already done one for an animated feature. I think he’s working on another one now, as well as working on a new album It’s part of the reason he went. I think the main reason he went out there was because he felt he could give a better quality of life to his family. As he sees it, it’s going to be a better life for his kids. He likes the sunshine and hates the rain. The last I heard, he had Jean-Michel Jarre around his studio. [Laughs]
I really liked the ending with Gary reading the book Giraffe’s Can’t Dance to his daughter. Whose idea was that? Or was it spontaneous?
It was, yeah. None of it was set up. I was wandering around [their] house like I often was, and heard that he was reading bedtime stories. I went up there and got that lovely, intimate shot of him and Echo reading the book. I stayed there and waited until after they finished the book. Afterwards I thought, ‘That will be a great ending.’ Ollie Huddleston [the film’s editor] put that whole sequence together, which I love. [He’s] amazing. I think he’s now won a Sundance Prize. He’s a very talented guy. That was done fairly early in the edit, but it’s one we kept thinking, ‘That’s the ending unless something else comes along.’ Nothing else came along that was any better than that.
It was perfect. The book’s almost like his story. Gary’s the giraffe.
Yeah, the words [are like] Gary’s life and Gary’s career.
Does filmmaking give you more satisfaction than doing art design?
Oh definitely, yeah. It’s a lot harder though. I’ve always found designing things really easy. The editing part of it, understanding narrative and getting across to an audience who may not know who the guys are in this film… getting that story over to them in the most direct and engaging way is the hard part. I can make things look nice. That’s what I do. Magical shots, something I’ve always had an interest in, is the easier part of the two things.
This is much more exposure – having your name up there onscreen as director…
I’m appreciating how big a deal it is to be a director of a film that’s getting this much critical support and praise. [Filmmaking] is a much bigger deal than anything I’ve done before.
Bigger responsibility but much bigger rewards…
Massive rewards. Not financially, but much more important than that is having an audience really enjoy this film. It’s incredibly rewarding when you get a film out and people like yourself ring up and want to speak about it and audiences come out, but it’s a real struggle to get your film finished, especially if you’re self-financed as we were. I say self-financed, but Rob pretty much paid for everything – by far. You’re not doing it for the money. You’re doing it because it’s something you love doing, and you want to make a great film. I guess further down the line it would be nice to be making films full-time and be earning a good wage out of it, but it’s been tough to begin with. I’d hate to make a film and get to this stage that no one likes. That would be horrible. That would just about finish me off! [Laughs] You’re only about two pages away from the lunatic asylum. You’ve got to believe in it, and you’ve got to keep on going. When you do end up with a film you get four stars all over the place for, and the audiences are loving it, you should enjoy it. You should say, ‘I deserve this.’ It’s taken a long time. It’s taken a lot of effort. I’ve been away from my family for so long. It’s taken all our money. It’s done this, that and the other, but it’s been worth every tough moment.
Even though financially it may be difficult, as a creative person in the arts, it’s your work you’re putting out there. You want people to see and like it.
It’s also nice if they like it because it shows you were right. A lot of time you think, ‘Am I going nuts, and is it a pile of rubbish? It isn’t very good, and I’ve lost it completely?’ when you’ve kept your direction. The both of us really, really held firm on a lot of things, Rob and I. It also gives you more confidence moving into a new project like I’m doing at the moment. It gives you more willpower. You trust your own instincts and direction more. You can cut out a lot of peripheral stuff that may come into your head. Lack of confidence that tends not to come into play so much. That’s another reward.