Not Nobody: Director Timo Tjahjanto makes his English-language debut

While the first Nobody had the somber and dark aesthetic of a South Korean noir, Nobody 2 is much more ebullient. Fight scenes take place in broad daylight (with a standout sequence occurring on a duck boat, in an homage to Jackie Chan), with Tjahjanto’s proclivity for lyrical chaos working well in the heightened setting of an amusement park. Tjahjanto relished the opportunity to mix contrasting textures and tones.

Tjahjanto recently spoke with JoySauce about the visual influence of Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas, the enduring influence of Hana-bi for him as a filmmaker, what audiences can expect from his remake of Train to Busan, and his approach to telling violent stories about real-world corruption but through the lens of entertainment. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Zachary Lee: Timo, in addition to Nobody 2, you’re also working on The Beekeeper 2. It can be daunting to take on projects that have an established lore, so how do you honor what came before while merging your own spin on it? What do you look for in projects where you feel like they’ll accommodate your sensibilities?
Timo Tjahjanto: The benefit of projects like Nobody 2 and The Beekeeper 2 is that they’re led by actors that I really respect. At the height of COVID, I was binging Better Call Saul, and I remember the episode where he’s going through the desert with the character, Mike, and they’re forced to drink their urine because they’re stranded there. I was thinking, “Man, Bob Odenkirk is so good.” I thought he was such a brilliant actor, and I wanted to work with him. 

As daunting as taking on something like Nobody 2 was, I could either regret doing a bad job or regret not taking the chance to work with Bob. The challenge was mainly about how to make a film that wasn’t disrespectful to the first film, which was directed so well by Ilya Naishuller. Ilya made a great moody, neo-noir character study set in winter, but with this sequel. I wanted to make this crazy summer, National Lampoon’s Vacation-style movie with the same character. 

ZL: Did you talk with Ilya at all?
TT: I did! I was thrown through the project so suddenly that I didn't have the chance to gather my thoughts and think of ways I could pay respect to him as the OG director. I’ve been a fan of his work since Hardcore Henry, and I saw all his Biting Elbows music videos. He’s nuts in the best way. I knew I’d never be able to compete with him. 

After I finished the film, we spoke. He couldn’t make this one because he was making Heads of State. That’s a PG-13 film, and I’m usually not interested in action films with that rating, but he did such a good job with it. Ilya’s meant for greatness, and I’ll always respect him. 

ZL: It’s encouraging to see there’s camaraderie instead of rivalry. Based on what you’re telling me, though, I’m assuming your Train to Busan remake will not be PG-13?
TT: [Laughs] Nah. Last Train to New York will definitely be R-rated. If I can do that one, it'll be the perfect way for me to make my comeback into horror. Who doesn’t want to make zombie films? I recently watched 28 Years Later, and it blew my mind. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’m waiting for Last Train to New York to come to fruition, but in the meantime, if I have to do Nobody 5 or The Beekeeper 7, I’ll do it [Laughs].

ZL: You mentioned that Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas served as a visual reference here. That’s one of my favorite films, and watching Nobody 2, I was struck by how vibrant and saturated it is; there’s always that tease of lurking danger. That was the ambience Robby Müller conjured with Wenders’ film, so how did you and DP Callan Green work to evoke this aesthetic?
TT: Bob was explaining to me that he has specific childhood memories of going to Wisconsin Dells for vacation, and right away, I thought about Paris, Texas. Especially as a non-American, I didn’t have an idea of what the Midwest or South looked like. I could only visualize through movies, and Paris, Texas was one of those important first film images. 

What I love about this film is that, yes, it is rustic and sad, but there’s also this beautiful, surreal quality. You see rats and neon lights shoot into the screen. When I spoke with Callan, one of the things we connected on was the idea of hidden horror. The water park that Hutch and his family go to is a place that's seemingly built for good times, yet there is violence that breeds outside of the frame. In the final set piece with the amusement park fight, that’s when you see this clash of colors more overtly, and the subtext becomes text, but I’d argue we helped cultivate that sense even earlier on in the film. When Hutch is in the sheriff’s office, there’s this drab gray that colors the whole palace that makes you feel the presence of corruption. It’s always nice when you can represent something through the visuals and lighting of your shots.

ZL: Thinking of more references, you’ve named the Japanese crime drama film Hana-bi, directed by Takeshi Kitano, as the film that helped you discover you wanted to be a filmmaker. Can you speak to its continuing influence on you now as a filmmaker?
TT: Interestingly, I do think there’s an abstract connection between Nobody 2 and Hana-bi in that both of the protagonists are middle-aged and they’re dealing with the fallout of violence later in life. I love the cinema of stoic men. One of my earliest exposures to films of that type was ones like Le Samouraï with Alain Delon.

When I saw how Kitano would let his character languish in silent moments, I think there’s a lot of that in Hutch. There's Hutch, who talks, verbalizes things, and connects with his family. Yet on the other side, there's Hutch, who ponders and tries to figure out what his next move is through the silence of it all. Bob is good at straddling these modes. Bob is a man in his early 60s. He looks great for that age, but he communicates so much with his face. He uses his creases and his eyes to great effect. All those details are very cinematic for me, and that’s why when you watch Nobody 2, some of my favorite shots are those that just languish on Bob’s face. In scenes where he’s on the phone talking, you see his eyes wander; there’s always something more going on than the action he’s doing. There’s something similar to the characters of Hana-bi.

ZL: I read that stunt designer and second unit director, Greg Remeter, fight choreographer Kirk Jenkins, stunt coordinator Kyle Mclean, and others would join forces to create these elegant fights, but Bob would ask if they could make the choreography look less graceful, in the spirit of who Hutch is as a character.
TT: You see a lot of these changes in the duck boat fight scene. The way it was designed initially was quite graceful, but we wanted to make it more playful. It’s almost like we’re seeing a fight in a Buster Keaton film or something inspired by the Three Stooges. In that fight, Hutch loses his pinky, and we included that because we wanted to make him a character who clearly is not 10 steps ahead of his opponents, the way someone like John Wick would be. He relies on his instincts, but his instincts are clumsy, and that’s what makes him relatable.

ZL: The duckboat fight is so emblematic of balancing the grim and facetious. You’re not afraid to tell violent stories that focus on real-world corruption, but you manage to also make that entertaining. How do you balance those two, or do you find trying to do both difficult?
TT: I don’t want to depress the audience. I don’t want them to feel as though the world is a hopeless place. The violence tends to become the energy that propels the story.

ZL: When you worked on The Shadow Strays, you joked that that set was the first time you were called uncle because you were the oldest. I imagine working on Nobody 2, you’re around peers and veterans. Do you carry yourself differently on set, whether you’re the senior or among friends?
TT: Because by nature, I’m a childish person, I’ll always feel young. Even on The Shadow Strays, I was working with people in their 20s. (Lead actress) Aurora Ribero was 19 when we shot the film, and working with her, I kept thinking, “How are these younger kids so wise?” I’m just thinking, “How do I depict someone getting stabbed with a knife in a way that hasn’t been seen on-screen before?” [Laughs].

On Nobody 2, I’m surrounded by greats like Sharon Stone and Christopher Lloyd. Working with them humbles me because even though I’m the director, it feels like I should be the one who's learning from them instead of telling them what to do. I think that's a good way to approach yourself as a filmmaker. You have to be constantly learning. You have to be able to have no ego, admit when someone else’s take is better than what I had envisioned. It’s the only way to progress.