Interview With Actor, Writer And Producer Amanda Jane Stern For PERFECTLY GOOD MOMENT

If you’re wondering what relationships look like in the 21st century — or for that matter, the 22nd — ask Amanda Jane Stern. She is the star of Perfectly Good Moment as well as the film’s writer and producer. Directed by Lauren Greenhall with a story from Stern and Julian Seltzer, the erotic, psychosexual thriller stars Stern and British theater actor Stephen Carlile. It’s a portrait of a toxic relationship with a significant age gap, with Stern’s Ruby being the younger, abused partner of the vicious David. The film enjoyed a sneak preview at the 25th San Francisco Independent Film Festival in February 2023 and is currently awaiting its world premiere.

Stern is a former Film Inquiry contributor, having authored the “Queerly Ever After” column at the site for three years. Perfectly Good Moment is her feature-length debut as a screenwriter. I had the chance to speak with Stern about her writing process, the importance of intimacy in storytelling, and how much she hates sexism in old movies.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Clement Tyler Obropta with Film Inquiry: So Perfectly Good Moment — you’re an actor, writer, producer on it. Did you write the script intending to star in it? Was that always the plan?

Amanda Jane Stern: Yes. Well, actually, I wrote this script for both myself and Stephen, who played the male lead. So I met him in January of 2020. He plays Scar in The Lion King. I went to see him on Broadway, went backstage after, and we hung out until, I don’t know… 1:00 in the morning drinking champagne. And then that was kind of it. We swapped contact info and would sort of like posts of each other’s on social media from time to time for the next year and change, and then I don’t know why, but I decided to write this script and thought, “Huh. I should write it for that guy.” No idea why. It just kind of happened.

Did he have any input at all?

Amanda Jane Stern: No. I wrote it, and I sent it to him, and then he said, “Yeah, I’m in,” and then realized, “Oh my God, there’s so much sexual content and I’m terrified.” And I said, “Yeah. We’ll work on it. We’ll make this something that’s not bad for either of us.”

How much of the script was based on your own personal experiences? What inspired you to write a story about this toxic, horrible relationship with this toxic, horrible character?

Amanda Jane Stern: It’s not any one person or thing. It’s a bunch of different experiences that kind of — not just my own, but things that people I know have experienced. And also me kind of grappling with some of the older movies and content that I really like. I was thinking a lot about Last Tango in Paris, which is a movie that I like a lot, and I’m also very conflicted by that because we know about how horrible filming one specific scene [the rape scene] was and how that was a complete violation of [Maria Schneider’s] boundaries. And it’s really hard to look back at these things and grapple with that kind of content, and so I was thinking a lot about that when I wrote that, and I was thinking about how we see so many age gap relationships, especially in erotic thrillers, but we don’t really talk about them. It just kind of… is. It leaves you thinking, “Wait a minute, if you’re showing me a couple who’s been together for a while and she’s that much younger than him, how old was she when they got together, and why are we not talking about the real power imbalance that would be there?”

So you guys worked with an intimacy coordinator on the film, and you also had COVID compliance officers on set — two newer positions in the industry. How do you feel like those roles changed the way you filmed?

Amanda Jane Stern: As far as the COVID thing goes, that’s why it’s a two-person movie. We filmed just as everyone had gotten vaccinated, so there was some level of safety that we felt. Of course, the crew was masked the entire time. We had air purifiers all over set. We had huge windows that we had open the entire time. Do I really wish that one day, COVID will be completely gone? Yes. I know that’s not realistic, but God, I wish. I am glad that SAG sets do so much to keep it safe. But I actually don’t think that that changed so much for us because at the end of the day, even if COVID weren’t a thing, if I were to remake this movie, it would still be a two-person, one-location movie. It wasn’t just about COVID. I actually like one-location things. I love that confinement.

As far as an intimacy coordinator goes — oh my God. I absolutely love the position. I love Acacia DëQueer, who was our intimacy coordinator. I actually met them entirely randomly. I was on Facebook one day, and I was just scrolling, and one of the film groups that I was a part of posted that they were looking for cast and crew for something, and Acacia commented on it and said, “Hey, if you need an intimacy coordinator, I’m available,” and I checked out their website and thought we might hit it off.

Since this film deals so much with sexual intimacy and sexual violence, how did you approach writing those scenes for yourself?

Amanda Jane Stern: I’ve been acting for a long time, and I’ve filmed intimate scenes before, and intimacy coordinators are very new. So in the past, they were not on set. It wasn’t even a conversation. And there were experiences I had that were not so great. Nothing truly terrible, just awkward and a little inappropriate, and looking back, that’s not how it should have gone. And then I’ve had other instances where I was close with the director and they made it a point to make sure it was a safe filming environment and closed the set.

I do believe in the importance of intimacy in storytelling. I think it can tell you a lot about characters — how they interact in relationships, how they use or don’t use their sexuality. It tells you a lot about communication. So as I was writing it, I was thinking a lot about the choreography and thinking, “OK, if I write this, is this something I’m comfortable with?” So I ultimately wrote with my own boundaries in mind, thinking that if I’m on a set where I trust everybody, this will be fine. Granted, that’s only me. That’s not taking into account Stephen’s boundaries, so I said, “I know there’s a lot of intimate content in this script. Obviously a lot of it is very important. That being said, we’ll have an intimacy coordinator on, and if there are things you’re not comfortable with, we can modify and change things.”

We rehearsed with Acacia and Lauren for weeks before we shot so that by the time we got to set, the only kind of improv we did was being in a new location that’s different from the rehearsal space. So within the boundaries of everything we’ve already agreed to, we played with the space. Everything that happened physically we had already agreed to well in advance.

I think before first rehearsal, Acacia actually called me and then they called Stephen separately to go over with each of us what’s a hard no, what’s OK, what’s, like, an orange zone…? When we got to the first rehearsal, Acacia was coming knowing what both of us had said. But neither of us knew what each other had said. So neither of us were put in a position [of saying] “Well, they said they were OK with that, so now I have to say I am.” And I think because of that, as we kept rehearsing and because we became so comfortable with each other and because it just became so second-nature, even if it looks traumatizing on-screen, we were laughing between takes.

What else did your intimacy coordinator do to help you figure out your boundaries?

Amanda Jane Stern: Acacia would have us tap in and out of rehearsal. Like, “OK, now you’re in character, and now you’re out.” Thankfully, at the end of the day, Stephen and I are very snap-in, snap-out people. It was a very fun environment to be in, even with all the heavy stuff we were filming.

One of the other things Acacia had us do was basically red light, green light. You’d take the other person’s hand and run it over your body, [showing them] where is “green,” where you can touch me when we’re in a scene. An “orange” zone, in certain contexts, is OK. “Red” is an absolute no-go, never, don’t even ask. Sometimes people have a boundary that isn’t sexual but is just a weird trigger.

How did you get the naturalistic dialogue?

Amanda Jane Stern: I think about the dialogue a lot when I’m writing. Julian Seltzer, who co-wrote the story with me and also produced the movie, is also my fiancée. I would read the dialogue out loud with him. He would do terrible British accents, and anything that didn’t sound plausible coming out of someone’s mouth, I’d say, “OK, so I need to change that line.” And because I’m an actor, when I write, I think about whether I could deliver a line [convincingly] and not like, “Someone wrote this. No one would ever say this.”

Are there any major permutations the story went through? Or is it mostly the same story you and Julian came up with in the beginning?

Amanda Jane Stern: The only changes that were made from the first draft to what we filmed… actually, we added in [the first scene] where they meet. That was not in the original draft. And then we made some slight changes to the ending that were just creative decisions.

Speaking of that scene where they meet — was that something you shot before or after the rest of the film?

Amanda Jane Stern: We filmed it after. I cut my hair.

And Stephen shaved.

Amanda Jane Stern: He shaved because when we filmed that, Broadway was open again, and he has to be shaved for his costume. And we had to get special permission to let him go as many days without shaving as he could. Which is three. Which is why he’s only a touch scruffy. We figured that’s OK. We love beards! And I cut my hair intentionally for that [scene].

Now, you do have a column with Film Inquiry. You’ve written “Queerly Ever After,” and you’ve written about happy endings that queer characters have, but you’ve also talked about your favorite queer films from the last couple of years. I noticed that Park Chan-wook’s The Handmaiden topped that list, and there are a lot of similarities between that film and this one. What are some other inspirations for you and for Perfectly Good Moment?

Amanda Jane Stern: When I was first writing this, I thought, “What if you mix Last Tango in Paris with Hard Candy?” Those were my top two. I also thought about Invisible Man and Promising Young Woman because they were so new, but they weren’t as big influences as Last Tango and Hard Candy. And then in terms of visuals, we pulled a bit from Vertigo because of the gender dynamics there. And then I thought a lot about the books Chocolates for Breakfast and Rambling Rose, which I read when I was teenager. They’re about younger women who get caught up in these sexual and gender politics.

Your column is also written from your perspective, the perspective of a bisexual woman. Is queer identity ever something you’d be interested in making a film about?

Amanda Jane Stern: Yeah. I’m working on a new script right now, and it’s much more queer. Usually when my scripts don’t have two characters, many of them are queer just because my world is populated with so many different queer people. I’m working on something now where there is a queer narrative that is about queerness, kind of through a historical context. I’m trying to be vague, because I’m still writing it!

I love to write genre pieces. I write a lot of thrillers. And I pull a lot from my own experiences that are murky when you look back on them, and there’s a lot of me growing up, looking the way I do, getting sexualized from a very young age by men. A lot of my work is unpacking all of that, and my queer identity isn’t something I’ve grappled with as much, because it was never older women, you know? Was it something that took me a long time to admit to myself? Yes. But I also don’t want to write about, like, a middle school girl figuring out she’s bi and staying in the closet.

I want to talk about wine for a minute — Stephen’s character loves fine wine, and it’s this huge motif that’s a signifier of his control-obsessed, manipulative, upper-class nature. How’d you learn so much about wine?

Amanda Jane Stern: [Laughs] That’s based on people I actually know, that part. My mom’s best friend is in the wine business. She’s in wine distribution, and I’ve seen her correct people who misuse wine facts and make mistakes with things like the price or the year. So David’s whole thing about the year and about “finding the great bottle” — he’s kind of wrong. He’s not correct. He just thinks he is. And it’s also [important] that the wine is from the year she’s born, which is just… so gross.

Without spoiling anything, in the later sequences, you sort of take on a dual role where you’re playing two different situations at once. And in one, it’s very traumatizing and very uncomfortable, while in the other, you’re in control and you’re the observer. What did you take to each of those roles?

Amanda Jane Stern: That was so cathartic, actually. Because the movie is so much about perspective, the performances should be different because in [act one], it’s how he’s interpreting things, and in [act three], it’s how she is. Even though you know she is also playing up this version of herself for him. It was freeing to get to do an entirely different performance, basically. Though yes, it’s a very controlled performance in act one, by the time I got to this the act three stuff and I kind of got to give up that control and not bottle myself up so much, it was just so much fun. My voice was pitched up and much more soft and feminine in act one because you’re playing to him, and then when that drops, it’s like a weight off my shoulder.

Stephen’s character, too, comes off as very menacing up front, but then in the third act, that perspective change makes him seem a lot more pathetic.

Amanda Jane Stern:We wanted that! He’s had so much power, and now we’re taking it back from him.

Is the catharsis of the ending something you wish more narratives would embrace? Holding men accountable?

Amanda Jane Stern: It’s not just men. I love a catharsis narrative. I love a revenge story. I’ve seen a lot of movies where they start off really promising, and instead of doing what Perfectly Good Moment does, where the female character is gaining agency, she’s introduced as this really whip-smart character and then loses all of her agency and does nothing for the rest of the movie.

I was watching The Most Dangerous Game from 1932 the other week, and the female lead [Fay Wray] is introduced, and right off the bat, she already knows something’s wrong, she’s already passing notes, telling secrets, trying to figure out her out. And it’s like, wait, this girl would be a great protagonist — or, plot twist, also the antagonist you didn’t know was coming! Because she’s so smart. And then… she stops being a character and she just runs around with her dress getting ripped.

I’m OK with things being sexy. Look — I like sexy women, and I like sexy men. Cool. I understand eye candy. It just needs to have a point. And the filmmakers are just doing it because they want to sexualize her. She just loses her agency and character. So I think that’s where a lot of it comes from, that I watch a lot of old movies and I’m really into it until the lady loses all of her agency and stops being a character, and the writer’s betrayed their script because they’re sexist.

Most Dangerous Game is actually free to watch on YouTube, too.

Amanda Jane Stern: Yeah! I think it’s public domain. But the danger that’s posed to her and the danger that’s posed to the male lead [Joel McCrea] is different. The danger to him is that he’ll be killed. The danger to her is that she’ll be raped. And the movie treats him as more important than her. And that is such a vicious act, and she deserves so much more retribution for that even being the threat. She is a prize to be raped and not a person, so you just want her to be the victor in the end and want her to take control. I watch a lot of these old films and say, “Fuck that, I’m flipping it.”

As someone who’s done a lot of film criticism, how do you think that’s affected the way you approach directing? Does it make you a better filmmaker?

Amanda Jane Stern: I studied film in college. It was more film history, and that’s how I got into film criticism. That helped me most as a screenwriter because I have a historical context for why certain genres are the way they are. Take film noir for instance — and I’m using that as an example because Perfectly Good Moment is an erotic thriller and erotic thrillers came from film noir — but the reasons that villains could never get away in the end and always had to be punished is because of the Hays Code. And you know, if you don’t have that historical context, you don’t necessarily know that, and you don’t know why you’re skewering the tropes you’re skewering and what they mean.

Perfectly Good Moment is coming soon.

Film Inquiry would like to thank Amanda Jane Stern for speaking with us!