Jennifer Kent Remembers ‘The Babadook’ for 10th Anniversary Re-release

To celebrate the 10th anniversary of Jennifer Kent‘s directorial feature debut “The Babadook,” IFC and Iconic Events Releasing are bringing the indie horror classic back to theaters Sept. 19 and 22.

Premiering at Sundance Film Festival in January 2014, “The Babadook” follows struggling single mother Amelia (Essie Davis), who is becoming increasingly tormented by her 6-year-old son Sam’s incessant outbursts (Noah Wiseman). After Sam begs Amelia to read him a mysterious bedtime story, a nightmarish demon spawn is unleashed upon their household, which only deepens the rift between mother and son.

Ahead of the nationwide re-release of the film, Kent sat down with Variety to discuss Sundance jitters, writing “The Babadook” in Amsterdam and filming the ending in a haunted basement.

When was the last time you watched “The Babadook?”

Oh my God, maybe since it came out. You watch a film so many times making it, and then it’s jettisoned out into the world. The only time I’ve ever seen it in full is that midnight screening at Sundance and then I’ve never seen it again. And I never want to. Any filmmaker will probably say this, when you watch it, you start to pick apart all the mistakes. But I think now, 10 years on, I’d probably be able to watch it and feel more objective. I’ll be at some of the screenings.

Do you clearly remember the premiere at Sundance? Or was it a blackout moment and over before you knew it?

It’s a hyper-aware moment for me. “Why is that woman coughing? Why is there so much silence?” Like, what do I want them to talk through the film? Then when the film ended, the woman in front of me said, “Well, that was crap.” I remember completely shutting down and thinking, “Oh, I’ve made a big turkey.” Because you hear a comment like that, and I thought, “That’s unanimous.” But of course, that’s actually filmmaking. You’ll always get that kind of comment here and there. Then the buzz started to happen and it was a wonderful experience.

What was it like when the film started to take off?

I’m incredibly fortunate that my first film was remembered. It’s being shown on 500 screens 10 years on, whereas when it started, it was on two. I feel enormously grateful to that film. I don’t tend to look back once I’ve finished a film. It’s done. I put everything I have into it and I want to move forward. So I haven’t thought that much about it, but I’m really grateful. I also think it’s a bit of a lottery with films. Someone can make a brilliant first film, and for whatever reason, it just doesn’t hit right at the time and doesn’t get that coverage. So I was very fortunate.

You started writing “The Babadook” in Australia and then took it to the Binger Filmlab in Amsterdam for development. How did that experience shape the film?

The Binger was, and I say this with great sadness, this incredible melting pot of filmmakers from all around the world who were all working on their scripts together for six whole months. I got brilliant feedback from other filmmakers on my script and I got feedback from script editors, but I also had tremendous freedom to make what I wanted to make. And I’d written six or seven films by that point. The scripts never got made. And I thought, “Right, either I chuck in the towel and give this up, or I try to develop a film outside of Australia.” Which is what I did. That six months in Amsterdam was incredible. That’s where “The Babadook” was born, in the sort of wintry streets of Amsterdam. I’m sad for other filmmakers that they can’t apply and go there. It doesn’t exist anymore.

What ideas did you already have in the treatment before bringing it to Binger?

I’d experienced the death of my dad, and so I was in this very real and personal space, and I tend to write from a personal space. I don’t mean I write about myself, but I write things I’m experiencing or interested in. So the treatment spoke to this idea of a person who could not feel the necessary pain or grief because it was so frightening to her, and the way that she lost her husband was so frightening that she pushed down on it. I was fascinated with this idea of someone pushing down so much and the pain having such energy that it had to go somewhere. So it splits off and becomes a separate thing that says, “Look at me. Remember me?” That’s where the terror is, in the pain of this horrible accident that she went through. Then she had to completely throw herself into labor and give life at the same time, which to me, was just unfathomable. So that’s what the treatment contained, those elements.

How did you land on the storybook as the vessel of “The Babadook?”

Early on, I knew that it needed to arrive somehow mysteriously. I made a short called “Monster.” In that short, there’s a doll that just appears, which I felt didn’t provide enough scope for a feature. I didn’t want to make it about a doll. I wanted it to be about Amelia and Sam. So the book seemed a no-brainer. You could write things in the book. You could rip the book up. You could burn it.

What went into the development of Sam’s character? I was particularly interested in how you came up with his obsession with weapons and machinery.

The contraption-making came from my childhood. I used to go to the hardware store and get bucket seats and lawnmower wheels and make go-karts with brakes and steering. I was really into that sort of stuff as a kid, so I thought he could have that same industrious approach to play. He needed to be this feisty little kid who, in the end, is thinking on his feet. He’s the feisty hero of the film. The line that I still find heartbreaking is when [Noah Wiseman] says, “I know you don’t love me. The Babadook won’t let you.” Here’s this five-year-old kid just able to convey that. What an incredible young actor.

Was there ever a version of the script where you didn’t save Amelia and Sam from “The Babadook?”

No. I couldn’t tell a story that was that nihilistic. I could go to the depths because I knew it was going to come back out. The whole film is traveling to the center of hell, but you know, via hell towards the light.

How did you eventually land on the ending that’s in the film?

It’s hard being a human and I don’t think it gets easier. I thought, “Oh, when I get older, it will be easier.” No. We carry these experiences with us. They become a part of us. I’ve had really sad things happen, most of us have. It hits on something tender in us and hopefully makes us more empathetic. I think that’s the whole point of life, to grow in empathy.

The basement [where we shot the ending] was haunted. The house was a set but the basement was real, and it’s haunted. I’ve got photos of ghosts in there. I was demonstrating that backward thing that [Essie Davis] does, and [Essie] was holding the camera. We felt this bit of light go by, and we both said, “Whoa,” at the same time. Then we looked at the photo, and there was a photo of me bending backward with this big wave of light flying past.

I read that you like to have a looser set and do a lot of running takes to give actors room for experimentation and improvisation. Was that something you were exercising on “The Babadook?”

I was dealing with a five-year-old child in the lead, so to keep stopping and starting, you can imagine how hard that would be for him. I’d worked on “Dogville” with Lars von Trier. His shooting ratio was, I think, 30 to one. That’s a lot. I’m not that voluminous with my shooting ratio, but I think everyone has their way to a great performance. For me, performances are obviously key to cinema. You need to get the right performance and it needs to feel real. Sometimes it takes a while to beat that acting out of an actor. I don’t mean I beat actors.

One thing I kept coming across in my research were YouTube videos titled “‘The Babadook’ Explained” or “What ‘The Babadook’ ACTUALLY Means.” Have you seen any of those?

I haven’t. My nephew sent me one of a woman watching “The Babadook,” which was so cute. I love watching people watching films. I don’t tend to watch ending-explained videos unless I feel really dumb and I’ve missed the point of a film, and then I might actually go and watch. But, yeah, I don’t watch it about “The Babadook,” but it’s wonderful that they’re being made because someone cares enough to think that someone else will care enough to go and watch that.

You are developing a new supernatural horror series. What can you share about that project?

It’s set in Ireland in the 1700s and it deals with Irish folklore. I’m working with a fellow writer on that. It’s a six-part one-off series. Irish myth and folklore. You think it’s these dancing leprechauns, but in actuality, a lot of the mythology is very frightening.