Berlinale: Josef Hader: “I also like to make bad jokes in my private life”

Mr. Hader, you also took on one of the main roles in “Andrea Gets a Divorce,” your second film. Do you already have yourself in mind when you write the script? Or how does that work?

I have certain people in mind pretty early on when I write. This time Birgit Minichmayr and me first and then the others in turn. There is no classic casting where I first write and then later see who could play it. It’s a kind of moving towards each other: I first write with them in mind and then I meet them and hope that they say yes. Then I would like to hear your opinion on the script. And if they think of a sentence that’s better, I’ll write it in. The script and cast are slowly coming together.

This story is more tragedy than comedy, and is also sadder than her first film “Wilde Maus”. Do you feel that way too?

So, my theory on this is, of course, very subjective (laughs): I wanted to take the term tragicomedy seriously, namely really fifty-fifty. In most tragicomedies, the drama is not as important as the comedy. Very often the drama is just decoration, hanging around so that some story can happen. Alleged problems that you can always be sure will be solved by the end of the film. And the spectators sit back and think that it will definitely end well anyway. And I thought – to challenge myself a bit – I would like to do a comedy in which something bad happens at the beginning. Maybe then a special joke will emerge that doesn’t lessen the drama. The laughter may then be a relieved laugh at things that are not normally laughable.

The main character Andrea is a policewoman in the village, and the men around her are almost all idiots unable to live. What was the idea?

I actually didn’t want to make men think they were idiots. They have also been a bit deformed by the harsh climate in the country and have difficulty fulfilling what is expected of a man. They are all a bit tense, relaxed, and need alcohol. Andrea is surrounded by men who are no help at all. I wanted her to be a lonely cowboy. And that the most helpless of all men, the character I play, is the one who is most likely to be of help.

Can there even be a man for Andrea?

That’s a good question. I would say, yes, from personal experience. Because I was always very socially stunted; and I still found a wonderful woman. (laughs) In this respect, I see hope for Andrea. But it won’t be easy. She’s really a bit like some men are, these loners who run through all difficulties with a poker face and narrowed eyes. Of course, there were older men at a test screening who said: She has no emotions at all. So in brackets: What kind of woman is that?

If a woman had made the same film, would this image of men have been thrown in her face?

It’s not a thesis film. It’s not a film that says: The big problem in this world is toxic men, and we’re now making a film about it. There is at the same time a loving look at these men, and at the same time a ruthless one. As a child and even as a teenager, I never saw people in the country as evil. They seemed more like elephants with thick skin who then unintentionally hurt others who have thinner skin. Without any malicious intent. That’s why I left home, I felt I was too delicate for that. For example, with the character of the police officer played by Robert Stadlober: you never really know whether he is a completely in love person who is just there at the wrong moment, or whether he is a freak who is trying to blackmail Andrea. I find this ambivalence exciting.

Do you enjoy doing cabaret or making films more?

My main job is cabaret, which I started when I was 20. I’m confident there. It doesn’t wear out as many nerves. When I’m filming I feel under pressure, mainly time pressure. That’s why I only make a film every few years.

Many people think you are a funny person. Do you find yourself funny too?

Those close to me already say that I’m funny, but they find the jokes two levels below what happens in my cabaret program. In my private life, I also like to make bad jokes that would never make it onto the stage. But the people around you are nice, they still laugh! (laughs)

Can you tell us a little about the setting of this story? Especially on this small, narrow country road. The Lower Austrian tourist office is probably having a heart attack…

The people of Lower Austria are totally happy. They are always happy when they appear because it rarely happens. At first I thought I could make the film closer to home. But it quickly became clear to me that everything there was just green and without a horizon. That would result in rather boring pictures. Then I fell in love with these street villages in the Weinviertel. Suddenly the problem was solved: you can’t actually film in Austrian villages because everything has been so horribly defaced in the last 50 years. There is a municipal office from the 90s, a school from the noughties – all painted in bright colors. Very colorful houses with lots of bay windows. Unfortunately, this is what our towns look like. But the street villages in the Weinviertel remained as they were because they were located on the Iron Curtain and there was no money. I immediately thought that they looked like western towns: low houses, a straight street and the horizon above. There is always something inescapable about the road in Westerns. Gary Cooper is standing there, waiting for the bandits. This is not your typical Austria with wood carvings and mountains. I wanted to tell a story about a province that could be anywhere else. A story like this can also happen in Brandenburg or in Normandy. The left-behind province is international.

To stay briefly on the topic of Austria: What are you currently doing in Austria? Angst?

To briefly come to the topic of Europe or the topic of the whole world! If these problems only affected Austria, I would be relieved. Unfortunately, the shift to the right is a global issue. But I’m not overly anxious. I have developed the habit of not worrying about things that I cannot control. I just do what I think is useful in my area. Excitement isn’t much help, except for the media; analysis would be better. For a long time I thought that populism had to be good because it brought bad messages. Just like Jörg Haider did for us in the 80s, he was comparatively charming. But now we have bad-tempered populists giving inflammatory speeches everywhere. And this, surprisingly, is the way fascism worked in the interwar period. Surprising because I thought history doesn’t repeat itself in the same way. For this to work, it must mean that the anger in a part of the population is enormous. You have to ask yourself: Why? Where are the major fault lines in society? Between country and city, between locals and foreigners, or perhaps just quite banally between rich and poor? This would then bring us to a global distribution battle. And the rich are winning it at the moment, Warren Buffett said that, he should know it.

I believe that the invention of the social market economy in Germany and Austria in the post-war years did not happen by chance; rather, there was a conscious intention to let some wealth trickle down so that there would no longer be such extreme political trends as before the Second World War. And at some point it didn’t matter, from the 80s onwards, from Thatcher and Reagan. And now the rich are outrageously rich again and show it and pay little taxes and shoot rockets to the moon. That does something to people who don’t know how they’re going to make ends meet every month.

As someone who always does political cabaret, can you say: I won’t let it get to me like that anymore?

Satire is a weapon against this, even for yourself. With satire I keep the madness at bay and try to explain the world to myself. You write a bad joke and are briefly relieved. With the great satirists that I admire, Jonathan Swift most of all, it is always outrage disguised in very bad jokes, hot cynicism, so to speak. I do it for myself first, and then I share it with others, and then they get something out of it too.

In the film, your character swaps the car for a coffee machine. What is more important to you – coffee machine or car?

Personally, I have to honestly say that I still have the car at the moment, because you can drive from Vienna to the sea and drink an espresso in a bar. Then I don’t need a coffee machine. (laughs)