As Failed State heads to JDIFF, Patrick Curran sheds light on the film’s distinct blend of conspiracy, absurdity, and sharp humor. In this interview, the actor reflects on shaping Meyer within the project’s intentional chaos, the charged dynamic among the cast, and the importance of film festivals as a space for independent films and bold creative voices to find their audience.
Failed State dives into a world of conspiracies and absurdity with a lot of humor. What stood out to you most when you first read the script?
Matt’s writing always goes for the jugular, usually in a straight line, and Failed State was no exception. I was lucky enough to be involved in the project before the feature script was even finished, so I got to see the absurdity of it all stack on top of itself. Good writing pits heroes against impossible obstacles. Matt’s writing puts his heroes in front of Everest with nothing but a pair of flip flops. His characters need to find eighteen different ways to use those flip flops to get over the mountain. The script is a symphony of madness, some wild hybrid of Sorkin-esque dialogue with the surrealist absurdity of Lynch. I think I just wanted to be around to see if he could pull it off. And he did.
In comedies like this, rhythm and precision are often essential. What was it like finding the right tone for your performance within this intentional chaos?
I’m not sure Matt knows it or not, but his dialogue is excessively difficult to memorize. That’s not a knock, that’s just down to the musicality of the way he writes. He’s such a talent, and his scripts are always so yummy to read on the page, and they are so hard to get into my body. The rhythms, the cadence, the intellect, the punch of it all. It’s a perfect caldron of prose that makes matching my rhythm as an actor and his rhythm as a writer a real challenge. It’s also what makes his dialogue so strong. For me, Matt knew I struggled to get inside memorizing his work, so he trusted me to find Meyer in my own way. I honored his work as best I could. I let his script be the North Star for the character, and then he let me play. The result was that intentional chaos, which seemed be reflective of the piece at large, but also was working for Meyer from day one. Without Matt’s trust in me, none of that would have landed in the frames. The best writers become very generous collaborators on set, and any right tone we found on the day was down to his direction and his faith in me.
Your character exists in a story where everything seems to escalate quickly into the improbable. How did you work to keep emotional truth in the middle of the absurdity?
We found the emotional truth of Meyer by deciding to believe Meyer. I was on team Meyer from the jump. The stakes are so high for him in Failed State, even if his stakes are ultimately not that important to anyone else, or to the story. Everything he’s worried about is life and death for him. When you commit to those truths, the rest of it comes out in the writing. I played Meyer as honest as I could, and Matt’s story brought Meyer the rest of the way.
The film plays with themes like manipulation, media, and power. Do you think the comedy also reveals something deeper about the world we live in now?
For me, all good comedy tries to say something about the world we’re living in. Comedy is an invitation for audiences on all sides of the socio-political spectrum to seem themselves reflected back. I think we wanted the absurdity of the beats to feel like a mirror for the audience. If the truth is stranger than fiction, but you’re seeing your world play out in this absurdist comedy, are you more inclined to take a longer look at how you’re contributing to these darker themes? I certainly walked away from the project wondering how my behavior affects those same themes, and I think that was Matt’s point.
What was the dynamic like among the cast in a production that seems to demand timing, chemistry, and full commitment to the humor?
Most of my work was with the other Pat, who played Levi, and our chemistry (or lack thereof) was ESSENTIAL to getting our piece of this puzzle right. I’m an ad-libbing, improv-forward, save-it-for-the-day kind of actor. I work in commercials, my brain is always looking for buttons and jokes, and a place to play. My process is playful and my best work happens when the cameras are already rolling. I don’t like to over rehearse. I want to find it in real time. The other Pat is a classically trained, traditional theatre actor. His process is so different to mine. Not worse, not better, just different. The exact opposite, actually. He wants to beat those beats to death before we get anywhere near the camera. It caused some tension, and it made some days hard. But that energy was also perfect for the characters, so we just leaned in. He hated me, too. But we trusted each other, and ultimately we knew as hard as it was to marry his process to mine, the frustrations would serve the project. We just let it show up in the scenes. And it works. All we wanted to do was serve the project. But any tension you’re feeling between Meyer and Levi in that film is prettttttty organic. We’re dear friends now. We’re a lot more alike in our regular day-to-day.
What do you hope audiences at JDIFF take away from Failed State: the laughs, the delirious plot, or the satire underneath it?
What I love about film festivals is that they can be a megaphone for those brave, alt-voices in our industry who are shouting from the fringes. Matt and his team really embraced that ‘otherness’ on Failed State. We looked at ourselves as misfits. Matt championed that energy, embraced the chaos. It’s in the script but it’s also in the spirit of Matt’s style as a storyteller, as a filmmaker, and as a person. The cut is even MORE absurd than the project felt when we were shooting it, which came as no surprise to me. Matt doesn’t pay too much mind to what’s commercial, or marketable, or in fashion. He has something to say, and he’ll say it, and his audience will find him. Film festivals are the PERFECT forum for Matt to find an audience for his messages, as wild as they may be. I hope, more than anything, that the audiences of JDIFF celebrate Matt’s voice as a storyteller.
Follow Patrick Curran and JDIFF on Instagram
