Interviews
John Carpenter on the Past, Present, and Future: “I Just Keep Going Forward” [Interview]
John Carpenter is a busy guy. Don’t let all the talk about video games and basketball fool you. Look, instead, to his output: In the last eight years, he’s released three Lost Themes volumes, re-recorded renowned themes that span two Anthology collections, scored four films for Universal, and performed at venues and festivals all across the globe.
And that’s just his music.
Carpenter has also been executive producing films, working on myriad projects through Storm King Productions, and will return to gaming next year with John Carpenter’s Toxic Commando. Perhaps the most exciting development as of late, though, was his return to the director’s chair with John Carpenter’s Suburban Screams for Peacock.
The six-episode, unscripted horror anthology series explores the dark secrets and unspeakable evil that sometimes lurks beneath the surface of the sun-drenched streets, manicured lawns, and friendly neighbors of suburbia. Carpenter knows these places all too well. His filmography stems from this truth, and yet, so does his past upbringing.
That latter notion is something Carpenter discussed with Bloody Disgusting. In a freewheelin’ 20-minute chat, the writer-director-producer-composer waxed nostalgic — well, somewhat (you’ll see) — about the life that has surrounded his career. You won’t find answers about The Thing, or thoughts on The Shape. This is just Carpenter being Carpenter.
I’m not really interested in talking about your career.
Good, good!
Now, everyone talks to you about NBA and video games — hell I’ve talked to you about that — what other hobbies interest you?
Hobbies? You know, I play music as a hobby. I play chess. I don’t know. I don’t do much. I work hard, so I don’t have hobbies really. I watch basketball and the news. That’s all.
Would you say you’re a workaholic?
Sure, of course, have been all my life.
Do you get idle hands if you’re not working?
Oh, no. I work on other projects. Always cooking on something.

Yeah, I find myself — even when I have free time over the weekend — that I’m still trying to create something or do something, you know? I can’t really just sit down and watch an eight hour show without doing something with it.
I have trouble with that, too. I have trouble a lot with being patient on things — and that’s age also. That’s to be expected in my age, but I don’t have time to wait around for crap.
You used to hit the sky. Do you still have a pilot’s license?
Yeah, I did. Well, that was a part of my… I had to find out some things about me that I didn’t know. One of them was that I was making these movies about these guys — tough guys — and I was like, “Do I have the courage of these guys?” Let’s find out. So, I tried and picked something really hard. [Laughs.] Ugh, man, and I became a helicopter pilot.
Did it scare you?
In the beginning, yeah. You know, when my instructor said, “We’re going to turn off the engine and land…” What? We’re going to do what? But we did, as a matter of fact. We did.

You mentioned music before, and we’ve spoken in the past about music. But what were some of your earliest concerts? I imagine moving to LA in 1968 must have been fairly busy in that regard. Is there one particular concert you revisit?
Oh yeah, I saw everything. I saw Chicago, when I was first here, walking down Sunset Boulevard, saying, “Well, look at all this. Wow, look at this place.” Walking along, having somebody come out of the shadows saying, “Acid… acid…” trying to sell me some LSD. [Laughs.] I said, “No, no, I don’t think so.” I was just a kid.
But I went to the Whisky [a Go Go] and saw Chicago. They were called CTA, at the time. And Albert King was on stage playing guitar. It was fun. It was good. I saw Shoes. I saw a lot of people. Too many to answer. Well, I mean, I could, I suppose. I don’t remember ’em all.
Ever jam with any of ’em?
No, I didn’t do that. Didn’t jam with anybody.
Is there another life where you solely focused on music — perhaps like your father? Would that lifestyle have appealed to you?
I love music. I don’t really think about it because, you know, it requires… I need the movies to make the music to pay and make the career. It’s one thing at a time, so I don’t think of it that way. But it sure is great. [Pause.] I learned to love it. I was scared at first. I had stage fright, but I got over that, and it’s wonderful. Loved it. Loved it.

Was it always the piano?
No, no, no, no, no… hell no. The piano was… the piano… do we have to go through my entire..?
No, no, no, you don’t have to do that.
My father thought I should learn to play the violin.
Interesting.
Well, it wasn’t that interesting… because I didn’t have any talent. Anyway, I sat there… scratched away… oh, it was so painful… and I hated it. I didn’t want to do it! So, you know, I finally just outlasted years and years of it. [Beat.] Ah, I had to play in the high school orchestra. Let… me… tell.. you… ah, when you walk to your high school carrying a violin, you are a mark! It says, Beat the shit out of me. This spine that I wear. So, they did. It wasn’t fun. So, at the end of that, I learned the keyboards, then I started learning guitar, and then it went on from there. I played in cover bands and such and… onward.

Was there ever a moment — even with The Coupe De Villes — where you thought, God, this could be cool to just be rockers?
It’s the dream of every young guy who becomes aware. Everybody has that dream. So, no, I left that behind looooong ago.
Well, kind of. You have headlined festivals at this point, so you did get to have the dream a little bit. I remember seeing you on a live feed at Primavera Sound, and seeing all the people gathered. Probably bigger than most of the indie bands there.
It was fabulous. Are you kidding? It was a dream come true. It wasn’t my dream, but it was a dream come true.
Do you like to travel?
Not really, not particularly. [Laughs.]
Was touring fun or was that a chore?
No, that was fun. We had a bus. It was a bus tour. There was a lot of camaraderie on the bus with the band. I mean, I loved it, I got along fine. Went in my bed, got to sleep, it was no big deal. We didn’t… there was no drugs, nothing like that, we didn’t do that. It was awesome.

Growing up in Bowling Green, Kentucky, did you have any local urban legends or ghost stories that have stuck with you?
Well, there was a house on Cemetery Road, where people were murdered, and everybody was afraid to go near the house, and it was haunted, and all this crap… None of it was true. But there was a house there. People were murdered in the late ’40s. But no, it was kind of a stupid town anyway.
Are you more of a city guy?
I’m not a rural South guy, I’ll tell you that. I’m not a Jim Crow guy.
Yeah, yeah, sounds right. I got pulled over outside Bowling Green.
Yeah, exactly. [Laughs.] What did the cop do to you?
He had sped behind me, I was trapped between two trucks, and I was driving just an old, shitty Oldsmobile, and I had to speed up to get ahead of the trucks, let him pass by. But by doing that, he pulled me over, and I said, “You do realize I sped up to let you pass since you’re riding my ass.” He didn’t like that.
[Laughs.] And what did he say to that?Oh, he gave me a ticket. He saw my long hair, my name… [Laughs.]
Yeah, you had no chance.

Before you were in Bowling Green, you were upstate in New York at Carthage. Do you have any memories from that time?
Oh yeah, sure. My parents used to go back there in the summer and the winter, and we’d visit my grandparents. I remember driving there. [Pause.] Oh god, you know, it took two days to get up there. So, I remember that drive. It was horrible. But we did it. My father… my mother didn’t offer me a way out.
I wanted to go to Syracuse like my father, but he said, “No deal, you’ll be miserable.”
Exactly. [Laughs.] Exactly, no.
You’ve been in California since the late ’60s, though. What is it about the place? Is it the food, the weather, the…
Everything. It’s just awesome. It’s the best place on Earth to live.
So, you got there, looked around, and said, “This is it.”
Yep. That’s it. This is home. Home it is.
You lived in Northern California for a bit, too?
Yeah, I had a house up there in Inverness.

Beautiful area. We were up there earlier this year, closer to Bodega Bay too, but then we got really sick, and we realized there are no pharmacies open past, like, seven around here. So, that was fun.
[Laughs.] Oh man, were you really sick?Yeah, we had to keep pushing back the check out date. Hotel was pissed.
Yeah, it’s a little tough there, but not bad, it’s what you’re there for. Those are all idiot hippies up there.
[Laughs.] Yeah, it’s gorgeous, and preserved, which I really loved. [Beat.] So, this is something I’ve been asking my father lately: As the years go by, how have you maintained adult friendships? Do they matter as much as they used to?
Well, I’m focused on family primarily. But I’ve had friends for years; for instance, from film school, even from high school and elementary school. I’ve had Tommy Lee Wallace and Nick Castle as friends. They’ve been my friends forever. So, you know, I can count on them. I don’t need to see them all the time. We played together. And, I mean, it’s awesome. I don’t know what else to say … it was so great. It was such a great deal to have friends like that that go back that far.

Do you all have text threads to keep in touch? Maybe talk about things like the Damian Lillard trade?
No, no, we don’t even bother with that. We don’t just get together when there’s something to talk about, unless it’s… eh, fuck it. They have their own lives, you know, away from me.
Yeah, sounds a lot like my dad. What’s your relationship to the past? Is there an era that you tend to revisit?
That’s an interesting question. [Pause.] Well, I mean, I just keep going forward. I had a serious illness in 2015. I’m just lucky to be alive. So, I don’t look back too much. Every morning is a blessing here.
That’s a good mindset.
Yeah, that’s the way to do it. Don’t worry about that stuff.
There’s been a clip of you making the rounds online about being a short-term pessimist on mankind’s survival. Have you always felt that way?
Well, I’m a really big pessimist. [Laughs.] I’m optimistic about mankind’s survival in the sense that I want it to happen. What manages to survive I don’t want to go into that night, you know? I don’t want to curl up and die. But… you know, I’m realistic, which makes me cynical. But, I don’t know. I try not to think about that.
Does that ever keep you up at night?
No, no, I don’t sit up at night, thinking about that. Hell no. [Long pause] I worry about the Golden State Warriors.
So, you’re still in for Golden State?
I do. I like Golden State, and I like the Bucks from Milwaukee. I love them.
Well, I’m destroyed by them. I’m from Miami.
Miami? You’re getting nowhere, pal. Ever.
Hey, we’ve done pretty well in these past few playoffs. We were zombies last year.
You might as well just accept it. You gettin’ nowhere.
So, if basketball is what keeps you up at night, is that also what gives you peace these days?
Sure. I mean, look, when I was a kid, I wanted to desperately play basketball. I just wasn’t any good. Didn’t have the sports bug in me. I didn’t have the ability. But I loved it. I loved it growing up. And I still love it. It’s just a great game, man, come on!
What position would you have wanted to play?
Guard or forward, I guess.
Did you ever play any other sports?
Archery, I was good at that. I was real good at that. I became an American Archer, which is just a distance deal. But yeah, I loved that. Loved that. [Beat.] It’s just not very sexy.

Are you kidding? Every person that’s an archer in movies — they all look great. Even Kevin Costner with his English accent.
I don’t know about that.
Yeah, maybe not.
Let’s not get too far here.
Well, thanks for chatting, John.
Absolutely, my pleasure.
You’re now the artist I’ve interviewed the most, and I’m not even a journalist anymore. But when the opportunity popped up to chat again, I leapt at the chance. Thanks again, and have a good one.
Thanks man, and thank you. You take care.
Interviews
‘Rose of Nevada’ Director Mark Jenkin On Turning Time Travel Into A Ghost Story
Nothing is the same when two crewmates return to shore in Rose of Nevada, the latest by Enys Men filmmaker Mark Jenkin.
Time and reality blur for stars George Mackay (Wolf, 1917) and Callum Turner (Green Room, “Neuromancer”) in the hallucinatory time travel mystery releasing in New York and Los Angeles theaters on June 19, 2026.
But this isn’t your standard time travel movie.
Rose of Nevada bends time and genre in its exploration of Cornish identity and community, upending the lives of Nick (MacKay) and Liam (Turner). There’s a listless, dreamy quality to the time travel, and for inspired reason: Jenkin approaches it like a haunting.
While time travel was on his mind early in the writing process, Jenkin’s partner and collaborator asked a question that unlocked Rose of Nevada and inspired the filmmaker.
Jenkin explains, “I remember saying to Mary [Woodvine], my partner, who’s in the film, I said to her, ‘God, it really seems like I’ve fallen into this thing of either making films about ghosts or films about time travel,’ and then she said to me, ‘Yeah, but aren’t all ghost stories just time travel films, and aren’t all time travel films just ghost stories?’ And then I thought, ‘Oh, great. So I’m not making two types of films. I’m actually always making one type of film.’ But that was ultimately liberating because I thought there’s a nice gap or a crossover in the perception of genres, there’s a lot of room to play and to be free within that.”

“Once I’d abandoned the idea that I was going to master quantum physics in any academic sense,” the filmmaker continues, “It was incredibly freeing because I thought, ‘Well, I can just set my own rules here,’ and it really doesn’t matter what the rules are as long as you stick to them. You can’t bend them for the sake of the plot or for the sake of a character arc or something. You have to establish those rules upfront and stick to them, which made me really think I’ve got to limit the time travel element. This film can’t be about time travel.“
Bearing the brunt of the time travel disruption is Mackay’s Nick, a man struggling to support his family before the ill-fated voyage upends his entire world. It’s the type of role that was an easy yes for the actor, simply because of the filmmaker behind it.
“I saw Bait at the cinema when it was first out a few years ago and was so struck by it,” Mackay tells BD. “I just hadn’t seen a film like it. I want to work with the best directors. I want to work with the best directors and people who have a singular vision. As an actor, the process of work is almost my biggest draw, as well as what a story’s saying, but I think you learn by doing, and if I can do my bit in as many different ways as possible. The physicality and the discipline of Mark’s filmmaking, how that is so entwined in the DNA of the film, and therefore in the way that I work within it, that was the biggest draw. I’m just a fan of Mark’s. I was just very pleased to be involved.”
That reflects in Rose of Nevada‘s unique casting; Mackay initially was eyed for Liam.
“When I first got the call to meet Mark at the audition stage,” Mackay said, “We didn’t wind up reading scenes, but they said, ‘There’s a project. There are two roles in it that you could be right for, and Mark is leaning towards you for Liam.’ So, I had a look at Liam, Callum’s role, and had my interpretation of the script ready to talk about it and what I thought that character was, who he was, and how I’m thinking about how I might inhabit that or what I saw in him. And when we met, we didn’t talk about the film at all. We spoke about everything else. But following that meeting, I got the message, said, ‘Mark would like you to be part of the film, but he thinks you’re definitely more of a Nick,’ which I think I just may be a complete sheep because I went, ‘Of course I’m Nick.’

Mackay continued, “But it’s funny, I do have in my own life, I just started a family, and so much of my last few years of being has been trying to figure that balance and what that means and how you navigate that. So with family being at its core and all the kind of conundrums that come with staying level with that, that rang true. So I felt like I understood objectively, I have my interpretations of what both men mean to each other and within the story, but then once I was playing Nick, I just became about a very present focus on who he was and what his situation was. What I liked about him is that he’s a very straightforward bloke. In the best possible way, he’s quite a simple man. It’s just he’s in an extraordinary situation.”
Jenkin wrote Rose of Nevada during the pandemic lockdown that had forced a halt in production on Enys Men. He’d return to rewrite once Enys Men had been completed, creating overlap between films. “They are even more in conversation than you’d think because the first draft of Rose of Nevada was before I’d made Enys Men, and then everything I learned through the making of Enys Men, I fed into Rose of Nevada. But also the reaction to Enys Men, all the critics and writers and audience members who are telling me what Enys Men was about. I’m always the last to realize what I’ve done, I think like most filmmakers. You don’t really know what you’ve made a film about until the audience tells you. I was able to feed that into Rose of Nevada and also scale it up a little bit. So, yeah, in some ways it predates Enys Men, and in some ways it follows on from it,” he said.
Jenkin’s latest caps what’s unofficially been dubbed his Cornish trilogy, a moniker that initially surprised the filmmaker, but he’s come to embrace it. A recent revisit of Bait made it even clearer. “I can now understand why people are linking the three films together. I’d forgotten how linked they are, which is amazing, really, considering the first draft of Bait was written in 1999. So, most of my adult life has been one way or another making this trilogy. I am quite looking forward to starting the next chapter.”

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