
“My father shook hands with his sons”
Usually, life is exuberantly celebrated in Ineke Houtman’s films (MADELIEF, POLLEKE). But in THE BOOK OF EVERYTHING that seems a difficult challenge, with a father who understands every sign of joy and cheerfulness as an act of rebellion against God’s omnipotence. Religion serves to keep people in line, harshly if necessary. That applies to Thomas, whose imaginative mind does not necessarily always drift towards God. And for his mother, whose small bursts of independence are punished with physical force. In the name of faith.
Even the design of THE BOOK OF EVERYTHING – presented at Filem’On by director Ineke Houtman – is shackled by strictness: colourless interiors, rigid frames… like the faces of the statues, sternly overlooking the road to church. Thomas needs help to rebel against father’s strict religious regime: from a colourful neighbour, a loquacious aunt, and even from Jesus – “Just call me Jesus” – himself. They give Thomas comfort when taking a beating or when mother has another black eye. Thomas knows what he wants, to be happy. And happiness starts with not being afraid anymore.
What does religion mean to children today? Can they still connect with it?
Ineke Houtman: The film is not primarily about religion, but about any form of extremist thinking and how to rebel against it. That is recognisable. I noticed it at the screening in Giffoni, in a region that is still very religious. When Thomas said ‘no’ to his father, a standing ovation followed, because he dared to confront someone more powerful than himself. His father talks all the time about Exodus and the plagues of Egypt, and with his imagination, Thomas puts them into practice to thwart him.
What are male issues?
Houtman: Huh?
This is what the father says to his son: ‘Come to me if you have any male issues.’
Houtman: It’s all about hormones and sexuality. Religion can be used to preserve the established order and keep men on their pedestal – securing your place atop the monkey rock. But nature and love are stronger than anything else. Which you see at the end, in the way Thomas’ mother is able to forgive her husband.
Already in the opening scene you depict dad as an unpleasant man, with an authoritarian tone of voice.
Houtman: You immediately feel the intense atmosphere in this house where one man decides everything and where you have to be constantly on guard. A permanent threat hangs over this family, because something unpredictable can always happen. And above all, there is shame – which is why women and children in an abusive household often find it so difficult to talk about it.
The role is played by Daan Schuurmans, who has portrayed such gentle, sympathetic characters in films such as BONKERS and POLLEKE.
Houtman: Daan is such a sweet man. He found it difficult to play this role and to show the film to his children. He himself is very cuddly. At the end of the film, father shakes his son’s hand; Daan would have preferred a hug, but I didn’t let him. His character is not that far along yet, and this was not the right era for it. My father shook hands with his sons, while daughters were allowed a kiss. That was how things were in those days.
Mum, though very sweet, does little to protect her children.
Houtman: She is submissive to her husband; her protest is sneaky and passive. Her son is allowed to visit the neighbour, as long as father doesn’t find out. She calls Thomas her ‘little hero’ but she herself does nothing heroic. She allows herself to be beaten! Only at the end does she tell her daughter Margot how sorry she is. She doesn’t realise how much she is protecting her husband… until Auntie Pie confronts her with reality. Then a new realisation grows in her. Suddenly father feels: I should watch out or I will lose my wife and kids.
How do brother and sister relate in such circumstances?
Houtman: Margot doesn’t take her little brother seriously; she’s a bit of a bully, punching and pushing… She’s quite a fierce child and in this she resembles her father. She says: I dare to stand up to you because I am like you. She is the only one for whom father shows respect. He does not hit her even when she disrupts prayer.
The pastor talks about ‘we wretched sinners’. That was the idiom of the church?
Houtman. ‘Good Lord, deliver us miserable sinners.’ When you are addressed like that, what are you worth still? The language of Calvinism, of which the Netherlands is heavily steeped, is humbling to mankind and is about shame, guilt, sin and honour.
Jesus sometimes seeks out Thomas in his room and addresses him in a high-pitched voice.
Houtman: A double role for Sallie Harmsen, who plays both mum and Jesus. Thomas adores his mother. She has an artistic spirit, she likes to laugh and sing,… which Thomas recognises in himself. All Thomas’s fantasies are rooted in reality, so Jesus is given the face of someone he loves, and who, like Jesus, is sacrificed. Jesus is his companion. You cannot deny that the man has said a lot of meaningful things.
What divine image speaks from that strange statue you sometimes picture?
Houtman: In the 1920s, Amsterdam-South was developed by architect Hendrik Berlage. Sculptor Hildo Krop made a series of statues that matched that sleek design and fit our story perfectly. That rigid statue of a father and child expresses a very different ideal of parenting than we are used to today. Did you see there is a similar statue at Heaven’s Gate? That creates a visual rhyme, grafted onto that rigid design.
Every few years you make a wonderful film for children, but one like this we hadn’t seen from you before. How does THE BOOK OF EVERYTHING fit into your oeuvre?
Houtman: I love this film immensely because it’s about my childhood, about getting away from an authoritarian father and a strict family. When I was 10 years old, my brother died. The film shows the atmosphere at our house – so much pain and tension. Sometimes I would run to the toilet, just to escape from that constriction for a moment. That pain had to get out. Now that has been done, I feel a lot better.
As much of a relief as when the window at Thomas’ house is finally opened!
Houtman: Getting some air! I loved my parents dearly, but their life revolved around their grief. They never asked how it was for us – that was too painful to address. You can’t silence a life that was once there, can you? Shouldn’t it be respected and celebrated? As Ms Van Amersfoort says: it doesn’t all have to make sense. The meaning of religion is that you do it for God. Then you die and have to answer for Him. The meaning of life is that you enjoy what is in it.
The notion that you can enjoy things of beauty is completely new to them. Because ‘happiness is just for idlers and slackers’.
Houtman: From the author Guus Kuijer comes the idea that ‘happiness doesn’t hurt because you get used to it’. But it can take a long time to acknowledge and allow happiness. I am so happy to be adapting the work of a great master like him. Both his lightness and heaviness are standing close to me
That contrast is also in the music of Latvian composer Karlis Auzans, which is often very quiet and minimal.
Houtman: That man is so good! Karlis had written music for a Frankenstein opera, and we reused many passages from it. But because I want everything to be just right, we adapted the lyrics, based on Exodus. Those texts were unravelled by a professor of Latin-Greek, with an eye for all details. Very complex stuff, but fascinating to delve into together with an expert, striving for ultimate precision. No one will notice, but hopefully the audience will feel that great care was taken in all details.
The soundtrack almost inevitably draws on the religious repertoire.
Houtman: We had a house organ in the interior. Such a harmonium was allowed by the church, to accompany yourself when singing psalms. At my request, Karlis Auzans added a few passages for harmonium. I could ask him anything: a menacing cello, an instrument that sounded like frogs… A few minutes later, he then sent me the result. For the sound palette, we always started from the content. We had little to play with because of the rigid tone, so we tried to make the most of every opportunity.
So is the limited colour palette: for most of the film, we find ourselves in a sterile interior. How to tackle that as a filmmaker?
Houtman: With a lot of beige. The three interiors – the houses of Thomas, Mrs Van Amersfoort, and the opposite neighbours – were shot on the same set, but decorated differently each time: very strict, lavish, and modern, respectively. We filmed in a studio in Latvia and there was a budget to bring over one truck with equipment from the Netherlands – 2.5 days on the road. With that stuff, we did the set dressing. The street view is the only lively thing in this house. There is nothing cosy at all; apart from the aquarium and the curtains, everything looks equally Spartan. This is why we make Thomas’ imagination so big – because there is so little, his thoughts are magnified beyond measure. But gradually there comes more colour to the film; at the final party there is even a pink cake.
The film is set in 1961?
Houtman: The era of great change. Mankind went into space in a rocket for the first time and suddenly came close to God – God’s territory was taken by science. Rock ‘n’ roll cautiously peeked around the corner, as you see in that TV clip. Good rock ‘n’ roll, moreover, from the Tielman Brothers, Indonesian guys living in the Netherlands; a wild bunch inspired by Elvis. That was the image of those times.
But you don’t make it into a period piece.
Houtman: There wasn’t enough room for that in that truck. But I did think about it. I wanted to invest more in that historical art design, to create a modern abstraction, like Tati did. But there are already a lot of period elements included.
Like a dip pen!
Houtman: I learned to write with that!
Gert Hermans