By April Girouard, LALA Reporter
A pair of famed cinematographers who fled Hungary after filming the failed 1956 revolt talk about their paths to success in Hollywood. Their line of work continues to demand English even as it goes international.
In 1957, Laszlo Kovacs left his native Hungary with nothing but the dirt in his pocket, the clothes on his back, and 30,000 feet of film hidden in potato sacks. He knew no English and had never been outside his own country. But he and fellow student Vilmos Zsigmond had illegally filmed 1956's failed Hungarian Revolt against the Soviets, and they were determined to escape in order to share with the world the footage of their country's desperation. Believing that he would never see his native Hungary again, Kovacs grabbed a handful of dirt, shoved it in his pocket, and headed for America.
Today, 50 years and a highly successful Hollywood career later, the celebrated cinematographer smiles mischievously and says "Budapest? Bah! This is my hometown." And since his arrival, Kovacs has more than proven that he belongs. He has made over 60 cinematographic contributions to the Hollywood movie scene, among them Easy Rider, Paper Moon, Shampoo, Ghostbusters, and My Best Friend's Wedding. Both he and Zsigmond, who has been recognized for his work on Deerhunter and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, among other credits, have received the American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) Lifetime Achievement Award for their contributions to the art.
In recent years, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has steadily increased its recognition of foreign-born cinematographers like Kovacs and Zsigmond. Three out of five of this year's Oscar nominees were not native English-speakers. Zsigmond was nominated for his work on The Black Dahlia. Guillermo Navarro (Pan's Labyrinth) and Emmanuel Lubezki (Children of Men), both from Mexico, were also nominated, with Navarro taking home the award. For its part, the ASC on Feb. 18 honored nominees from five different countries, including Zsigmond, at this year's Outstanding Achievement Awards.
But Zsigmond and Kovacs relate that it wasn't easy to achieve all this recognition. Following a Feb. 7, 2007, event honoring the opening of UCLA's Billy Wilder Theater and celebrating the careers of the two lifelong friends, Kovacs sat down with LALA to share the experience of trying to make it in Hollywood with little exposure to film and less to the English language. "It was discouraging and embarrassing," Kovacs reflected. Like many immigrants, both men were forced to scrape by with menial jobs even though they knew they were capable of much more. The first time they approached the ASC for membership, Zsigmond recalls, they were told, "Learn English first, and then come back."
It was an obstacle that Zsigmond and Kovacs faced without any support from established Hungarians in their community. "I was told that in Hollywood, you can get any job in the film industry, especially if you are Hungarian," said Zsigmond only half-jokingly. With famous Hungarian names like Zsa Zsa Gabor floating around, Zsigmond thought that he and Kovacs would surely receive help from successful Hungarians in Hollywood. No such luck. They were told they needed to prove themselves professionally before they would receive any help.
So with the same resolve that brought them out of Hungary alive, Zsigmond and Kovacs set about learning English. Though Zsigmond went to some night school classes, he credits his acquisition of the language to his art. "I was actually reading the cinematography magazine.... That's how I learned English," Zsigmond told the audience.
It was this commitment to their craft that, Kovacs says, kept them from giving up. "You have to dream 25 hours a day.... There's no mercy in this town," Kovacs explained to me with conviction. Even though he was embarrassed by his limited knowledge of the language and his inability at first to land more than a menial job, Kovacs noted, "there are many millions of things in life that can make you say, forget it"; he wasn't going to let this particular obstacle stop him from doing what he loved.
Still Laszlo After All These Years
Having together braved the Budapest streets in 1956 and the cross-country trek to flee the Soviets, the two friends developed a professional alliance that helped them negotiate their new surroundings. In the early days of their careers, Kovacs often found himself acting as Zsigmond's entire film crew. They recommended each other to producers when they could not take jobs themselves. They were so inseparable, in fact, that Kovacs would wear a shirt that read, "I'm not Vilmos". In Zsigmond, "I had friendship and a colleague.... It gave us a very solid kind of preparation to the world of art," Kovacs said. Now that they have both been individually recognized numerous times, Kovacs still humbly acknowledges his friend's role in his success: "This evening is a celebration of my friendship with Vilmos, basically being together for 50 years," he told the audience.
"English is becoming the international language as far as film goes," Zsigmond says. And within Los Angeles, this is certainly true. If this year's Oscars are any indication, the number of foreign filmmakers working on English-language projects in Hollywood has increased. Oscars host Ellen DeGeneres quipped, "I may see a few Americans…. Of course I'm talking about the seat fillers."
It is the films not based in Hollywood that fall through the cracks in recognition. A Hollywood-produced foreign-language film like Letters from Iwo Jima can receive a Best Motion Picture nod, while the competitive, Mexican-produced Pan's Labyrinth, despite three other wins, is pigeon-holed in the Best Foreign Language Film category. As the film industry becomes increasingly global, one can only hope that its recognition of international works will expand. Composer Ennio Morricone did accept an honorary Oscar for his movie scores in Italian, and no one told him to come back when he spoke English.
Published: Thursday, March 1, 2007
