Photo finish

Cindy Sherman is no killer

They made money in the '80s, movies in the '90s, New York artists -- David Salle (Search and Destroy), Robert Longo (Johnny Mnemonic), Julian Schnabel (Basquiat) -- whose hybris led them brashly to feature- film making. But what of their compatriot Cindy Sherman, famously reclusive, who hid her identity beneath Holmesian disguises and virtuoso get-ups in her self-portrait photographs? Would she be comfortable outing her real self in the course of having to publicize Office Killer, a first feature, the sardonic slasher film that opens this week at the Coolidge Corner?

I observed her in August at Switzerland's Locarno Film Festival, where, unmasked and bespectacled, she sat shy and very nervous for the first ever Office Killer press conference. Here was a nice, serious, deeply introverted person, not haughty, who seemed the least likely choice to take the helm of a movie.

"Narrative is not natural to me," Sherman confessed immediately, setting the frank tone for her commentary. "I don't write a lot. I don't read a lot. I make photographs that aren't titled. A story was intimidating to me." Sherman looked out at the gathered international press. "I'm a little intimidated here as well," she admitted. "I'm a bit out of my element surrounded by people whose lives are in film. I'm embarrassed by the attention given to an outsider who's made only one film."

And someone whose undisturbed everyday life is the antithesis of feature filmmaking.

"It was just two months ago that I bought a computer," Sherman acknowledged. "I don't have e-mail. As a photographer, I work alone. The few times that I've had assistants, I ended up making coffee for them, talking about their boyfriends and girlfriends. So I admit that I was terrified at the idea of working with a crew. I had to be talked into it, I must say. But Christine Vachon talked me into it."

Vachon, the well-known independent producer for Good Machine, asked what would make Sherman comfortable? "I wanted to come home to my own bed at night, so Office Killer had to be shot in New York City," Sherman said. Vachon also surrounded her first-time director with a crew appreciative of Sherman's photographic work, including cinematographer Russell Fine.

"I let him take care of setting up shots," Sherman pointed out, "though occasionally I made a suggestion about changing the lens. But I didn't mind deferring to experience. Everyone was sensitive to my lack of experience as a filmmaker. For instance, I was very intimidated telling professional actors what to do. But after several days, it went smoothly, and everyone seemed to trust me. In the preproduction process, I made lots of friends."

Sherman's photographs are, of course, movie-conscious, brilliant simulations of stills from nonexistent noirs and nonexistent Hitchcocks. She grew up, she explained, watching black-and-white films. "I saw Chris Marker's La Jetée on public television when I was 10 years old, and I was influenced by it."

Why did she initiate her filmmaking career with a genre slasher movie? "I was happy to have some predictable elements and work with them in a visual way without worrying how innovative is the story." Also, she likes good slasher movies. "I saw Dario Argento's Suspiria on tape five or six years ago, and I've watched it many times. I own tape copies of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. In fact, I wish Office Killer was scarier than it is. I realized halfway through the shooting that it could have been more weird and amusing. I'd be much happier if it was closer to Henry or Texas Chainsaw.

"Also, I wasn't expecting as many attractive actors as I have. My aesthetic isn't about traditional beauty. Carol Kane's character, Dorine, was about metamorphosis. I wanted the make-up to reflect her twisted sensibility. I like things most people consider ugly. I'd be bored if everyone in my movie was pretty."

Sherman was less than satisfied with the Office Killer script, which went through drafts written by Elise MacAdam, Tom Kalin, and, uncredited, Safe's Todd Haynes. "At a certain point, however, I didn't care about story. The main thing was how things were visually. That's what I'm concerned about: I'm a visual artist, and when I have an exhibition, I don't care at all if people see it and don't like the work. Obviously I'm coming from a different place than traditional filmmaking."

And she's returning there as swiftly as possible. "I definitely missed my way of working alone in my studio. I realize that if I were to make another film, it could be easier to do. But I'm not in love with the movie work ethic. It's more work than I'm used to dealing with. It won't be tomorrow that I'm making another film."

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Congratulations to Brighton's Brad Anderson (The Darien Gap), whose second feature, Next Stop, Wonderland, written with Somerville's Lyn Vaus, has been selected for Sundance in January. Huzzahs also to our Alloy Orchestra, which recently played along with the silent film Lonesome at the Louvre! Somehow, the world-renowned Alloy trio have never been invited to perform at the Boston Film Festival.

Gerald Peary can be reached at gpeary[a]phx.com.