No Sleep Till
Against the darkening skies of an imminent hurricane in Atlantic Beach, Florida, disparate characters become unmoored in No Sleep Till, the feature debut from French-American filmmaker Alexandra Simpson. Shot in the coastal enclave where she partially grew up with her father, Simpson’s film casts a “European gaze” (she was largely raised in Paris and attended film school in Geneva) tinted by a palpable nostalgia for a place she never truly knew and that she believes could one day disappear as a result of a natural disaster.
There’s a laconic quality to No Sleep Till, but the absence of narrative-driving dialogue doesn’t make this portrait any less visceral. Swiss cinematographer Sylvain Marco Froidevaux captures kitschy Americana—neon-drenched motels, nighttime pool-hopping, amateur skateboard sessions—backlit by apocalyptic skies of grapefruit pink, electric purple and pitch-dark indigo. Loosely following the pre-hurricane rituals of a teenage gift shop employee named June (Brynne Hofbauer), two stand-up comedians (Jordan Coley, Xavier Brown Sanders) and a YouTube storm chaser (Taylor Benton), there’s an intriguing lack of anxiety in No Sleep Till. While these characters certainly experience tension (unrequited love, a winding journey north and securing the perfect shot), this is a rather quotidian experience, both in terms of the dangerous climate and the complex emotions its advancement evokes.
I met Simpson at Metrograph on the Lower East Side a few days before her film’s July 18 release date via Factory 25, which comes after a festival run that began with a Venice premiere last year before being programmed at MoMA and Film at Lincoln Center’s New Directors/New Films spotlight in the spring. Sipping on sparkling water on a particularly blistering day, she delves into how she found her lead actress, her plans for a ‘50s-set sophomore feature and how moving to America may lead to creative stymying.
Filmmaker: Many of the cinematic references you’ve cited as inspirations are European, such as Claire Denis and Chantal Akerman, with the added influence of Americans like William Eggleston and Bruce Springsteen. I’m curious about blending this distinctly European pacing and aesthetic with more straightforward Americana.
Simpson: The first reference that inspired me while I was writing were Raymond Carver’s short stories. Very American, obviously. Three years later, I was really starting to make the film. I think that people [relate to] the “European gaze” visually and rhythmically, and I think that specifically comes from these film influences. There were no conscious choices like, “Okay, let’s make a slow [film].” I actually thought it wasn’t a slow film! I thought it was a very narrative film until Tyler [Taormina], my producer, watched the first cut and said, “Okay, this is a very experimental film.” I was very surprised. But I went to film school and was exposed to these filmmakers. I naturally latched onto these inspirations and they came out in more subconscious ways. Also in conscious ways, like when you’re actually starting to think of the blocking and how to navigate the images in this film. This is, I think, where Claire Denis became a very obvious reference, as opposed to other films that have stuck with me in a more subconscious way while writing the script.
Filmmaker: You reference Tyler Taormina just now, who you met in Paris a few years ago. I want to know more about how his involvement, and that of Omnes Films in general, influenced production.
Simpson: The first thing that really was game-changing about Tyler was his philosophy of, “There is no reason for you not to make a film.” Whether you have the money or not, if you have a few friends that can help you out—which I did, very talented friends from film school—his energy is “Don’t be a little bitch.” That’s literally what he says to himself. As I was developing the script, I remember him being totally trustful of what I was doing. He’d seen an experimental short film, and my use of sound had won him over, in that [he understood] it was going to be an intuition-based film and nothing else. I felt very free, and I was. He wasn’t on set, it was really my own exploration with the European and Florida-based crew. When I started editing the film, I moved to LA at that same moment, and that’s when the influence of Omnes became bigger, because they were watching the cuts with me. We would meet up and have discussions about where it was going. I think that this [collaboration] is something that I will carry with me for the next projects. We do table readings of our future scripts and whatnot. So, my relationship to Omnes solidified towards the end of the process in the post-production phase.
Filmmaker: You’ve said that you started developing No Sleep Till years ago after feeling wistful about the time you spent in Florida with your father as an adolescent. Did you go back to visit a few times before embarking on production?
Simpson: I remember before starting the script I went back for Thanksgiving for two weeks. A friend of mine came with me and it was really weird because it was the first time I was going without my family being there. I was alone in this house that is usually very crowded. That was kind of haunting.
Filmmaker: Why wasn’t your family there?
Simpson: My father spends most of his time in Florida and then he’ll go back to France. This time it was during Thanksgiving, which is a very family-driven moment. It was very odd because the film is sort of about a disappearance to come. I remember thinking, “I’m going to witness this place without the reason for which I’m there, which is the people.” They’re the Floridian ones, I’m just a visitor. It was a strange visit. I don’t know how to drive, so I didn’t have a car. I was stranded at the place that was to be our main location, which is a very small area. Before production and while writing the script I was there for four months. I wrote and finalized the script as I was producing on location. I finalized the script two weeks before the crew arrived and the production started. It was very fast.
Filmmaker: Did you find any interesting contrast between the Florida and European crews you worked with?
Simpson: Absolutely. There was so much curiosity on both sides and it made for a very fun shoot. The Europeans were so curious about the Americans. The Americans were so curious about these Swiss survivors. It was so benevolent. I was discovering even more of the Florida mentality. I was always in the family and neighbor bubble [growing up], but when you expand that to collaborators on a film set, you really do get more of a sense of the place you’re working in.
Filmmaker: The character of June feels like a conduit for revisiting your own emotions and interiority at that age. Tell me about shaping this character through your own reminiscences as well as actress Brynne Hofbauer’s current coming of age.
Simpson: Her presence is very much an observant character. I’d say that that was my presence anytime I would go [back to Florida], because I felt so alienated from the kids my age that were there. Even at times when I would befriend them or hang out with them, I felt like I didn’t belong in a very exciting way. She embodies this longing for belonging, if that makes sense. Going to the skate park and seeing these skaters, romanticizing in your head—those are personal memories. She also became a vehicle for the hardship of seeing a place disappear, even though there’s not much said through her voice or anything like that. I remember meeting Brynn at a diner. She was waiting on our table and I saw myself in her. We locked eyes and she blushed and it really reminded me of myself at that age. I approached her explaining what we were doing. She was extremely curious and also very sensitive. She’d also never flown out of Florida. She was extremely local as opposed to me.
Filmmaker: Had you ever thought of having the character be more of an outsider, like yourself?
Simpson: I never told myself that they’d be hyper-local or an outsider. That was the case for every person that I cast. It was about seeing a sense of vulnerability within them. All of these characters ultimately carry a sort of precarity, whether it’s the friends whose relationship is crumbling, this woman who just lost her job or June seeing her town disappear. The people I ended up casting struck me with different levels of vulnerability.
Filmmaker: How much time did June have to prepare for her role?
Simpson: Not much at all. She just arrived like, “Okay, we’re doing this.” The first day we shot with her we went very late into the night and the next day she was super tired, and I think that that broke any tension that she came with and really played in our favor. She was so tired that she was just doing the thing very naturally.
Filmmaker: Another thing about her character’s arc that I love is the plot with the skater boy. He gives June a flash drive and a handwritten note, archaic technology compared to the storm chaser’s iPhone footage.
Simpson: In this case, they are used in a very nostalgic way. For the storm chaser, this footage came along in the edit. I hadn’t written it in. It made a huge difference because it’s such a thin narrative with the storm chaser. You never actually see in real time this larger-than-life thing that he’s going after. It’s only through the screen, and it makes it all the more haunting that what we actually do access in real time with him is the waiting. For her, I love that this video arrives in the night because I love breaking out of the present moment. You’re already into the night and well into this threat and you have this dreamy, sunset, silly video come up. I guess I didn’t realize that I was using archaic technology until I saw it as a whole, because it was not an intellectual decision of trying to [contrast] the present moment versus the past or anything like that. It also came with my memories of going there as a young kid.
Filmmaker: It reminds me of the spontaneity that technology used to have. Now that we’re on our phones all the time we miss that “computer time.” There was this mysterious thing about being online late at night in the summertime.
Simpson: Exactly. I think the nostalgia you have for a place you can also exist virtually, especially from those days. There are so many video games that I would watch my brother play. He would play GTA and I would just be in the background cruising to the music. It’s such nostalgia. There really is a whole aesthetic that we’ve lost.
Filmmaker: Did your actor feel like that was like a natural thing for her to do or was there a moment where she was like, “It’s funny to be using a flash drive”?
Simpson: Actually no, she never even talked about this. She was excited about reacting surprised and disappointed like, “Oh, this is all about this dude’s skating?” But no, she never questioned the flash drive. Again, she was so tired the whole time. She was really floating from one scene to another, very much like the character. It was really convenient.
Filmmaker: During the 23-day shoot, did you encounter any issues with the natural elements that your film fixates on? Or was the desired climate pretty consistent and reliable?
Simpson: The night we shot at the motel, we had to get a lot of shots in one night. We arrived and it stormed for like three hours. We were very much like these characters in the film who were waiting in their rooms for the storm to pass. I remember that being very stressful, but at the same time it created this electric feeling amongst us. There were, like, 15 of us. Different groups were in separate rooms hanging out and letting the tension loose. The thunder outside was very electric and I think that it fueled us for the rest of the night. That was the most challenging it got. If anything, it played in our favor if it was very windy or if it would rain when we were shooting in the cars. There were moments where there was no rain, no wind at all, and that was a little bit like, “Okay, shit.” Then you just have to recreate everything sound-wise.
Filmmaker: You acted as the sole editor on this film. Has this been your method on previous projects? What was unique about No Sleep Till, aside from it being your first feature?
Simpson: I guess it has been for my shorts as well. I’m also an editor on the side for other people. I knew I would edit this film because, again, of how intuition-driven it is, especially in the sound. Every single scene in the film is scripted. There’s very little that appeared [in the edit] except for the storm footage. That became something that I realized I needed maybe two months into the edit. I think we got rid of one or two scenes, but it is interesting how close to the script the film is.
Filmmaker: Did that surprise you or were you pretty much sure that was going to happen?
Simpson: What’s weird is that we were navigating this shoot without an idea of how the script itself would work as a whole. We were kind of navigating in the dark. It was slightly frightening because it’s not very narrative-driven and does rely on mood so much. So it was a lot of work in the edit room just in terms of [using] sound to bring that mood and pace about. But no, I’m not surprised, because there wasn’t enough material for me to try many different ways to make this film in the edit room.
Filmmaker: In terms of the sound, what did you find yourself playing or experimenting with versus what was baked into your vision?
Simpson: What was definitely baked into the vision were the very specific sounds to Florida, which are very specific to my memories: The wind in the trees, the cicadas, thunder, the TVs, the radios, music playing sort of everywhere. I experimented most when I really dove into the music and [realized] how perspective can shift with its use. Once I had the edit done, we had to replace all the [temp] music. I’d never had to do this, obviously, for licensing rights. We managed to keep an Yves Tumor track, which I didn’t know would work out, but sometimes you’ve just got to try. Taylor Rowley, an amazing music supervisor, was like, “Just write a letter, show him the scene.” We sent it to their team and licensed it for a very small cost. I worked with.
Filmmaker: Within the past year, your film has premiered, traveled the festival circuit and now is releasing theatrically stateside. Have you encountered any difference in audience reactions between the U.S. and abroad?
Simpson: Americans respond to it much more warmly. I think it has to do with the fact that so many Americans have a relationship with Florida. Or a relationship to nostalgia with a place, whether it’s Florida or not, whereas the European crowds do not. There isn’t this personal attachment or people coming up to you at the end [of a screening] being like, “Oh, you captured this so well” and “I have an anecdote of waiting for a storm as well.” I think it’s a closer subject matter for Americans, even though the aesthetic, you would think, is more appealing for Europeans. It’s a really beautiful surprise, actually.
Filmmaker: Part of this film came from your reflection on living in Florida while you were in Europe. Now that you’re living in the US, do you feel like your eye is going to train back toward Europe?
Simpson: Yeah, my next feature, which I’m developing now, is going to be set in America but in a place that I haven’t lived, so it’s even more [seen through] alien eyes. I’m still very attracted to Americana with my still-alien eyes. I sometimes wonder if it’s a good idea to live here because of losing the distance that makes it so enchanting for me, you know?
Filmmaker: Have you found that enchantment wavering?
Simpson: A little bit, yeah. Maybe it’s time to go back to France for a little [laughs]. I used to be very intrigued by the American supermarket, for example. The way that things are laid out, there’s such care put into it, which is kind of psychotic when you think about it. There’s no better country that goes all the way for consumerism than the United States,
Filmmaker: In another interview, you tease that your next film will take direct inspiration from “photography alongside literature.” Are you able to share anything about this project yet?
Simpson: Yeah, specifically mid-century, small-town American novels. I read East of Eden by John Steinbeck, but The Heart is a Lonely Hunter was probably the first that set off this idea. I’m still really into ‘50s literature right now. I’m re-reading some James Baldwin books and trying to get a bigger sense of that period. It’s going to be set during the McCarthy era, but it’s going to be a very enchanting film in a very dark time of history.
Filmmaker: I’m assuming it’s going to also be an Omnes collaboration. Are you bringing back any of your crew from Europe?
Simpson: My producer, Eli[jah Graf Quartier], is co-writing the script. I much prefer writing with someone. It made sense to write [No Sleep Till] alone because it was so personal, but bouncing off ideas one another has been extremely rich. I get really in my head and scared when I’m writing alone. There’s a lot of questions. I think it was the same when I was editing. A lot of the times I lost perspective and was like, “Where is this? What is going on here?” Being with someone else in that process is better for me right now.
Filmmaker: And do you anticipate editing your film solo again or would you rather have someone else bouncing ideas around with you?
Simpson: I would love to collaborate with someone in the edit room. If I was to find someone like [Eli] edit-wise, it would be magical. But I know it’s not an easy thing.
Filmmaker: I’m sure most of your principal actors have seen the film. What about the horde of extras that participated in the film? Are there plans for a local screening?
Simpson: We’re planning to show it by the end of July in a small, used-to-be theater. Now it’s a church. I’m pretty nervous about that, actually. I feel like a lot of the locals are gonna expect a very disaster movie-like type of film.
Filmmaker: Like Twisters?
Simpson: Maybe not like Twisters, but something where the hurricane is less of a background element to the film. I mean, our main executive producer is a local from Jacksonville. She was born and raised there. She saw it and was very moved by how the place was depicted. I guess if the story itself is a little hard to access, at least I hope that they’ll enjoy seeing these places that they’re so familiar with.
