
“I was starting from a place of imitation using the original as a model because I knew we were going to be cross-cutting and I was also very excited about being in that make-up, in that costume,” says Dafoe. The result is a performance that jumps between the terrifying and the comedic, with Dafoe’s appearance providing fodder for each emotion: rheumy eyes, rodent teeth, filthy 6-inch-long fingernails, rhythmically clicking against each other from limp wrists. … That’s very fertile ground for pretending and it addresses a poetry in performance that you can’t always tap because we’re usually very wrapped up in psychology and naturalism.”



“One of the greatest pleasures,” says Dafoe, “is that it’s a role that’s allowed me to approach it from a very physical place to find a physical language that wasn’t necessarily naturalistic at all, so it could be danced and sung.
