SCHRADER There’s a lot of God talk. When I first showed the film, I warned people this is a slow movie and there’s a lot of religious talk, be prepared. I was very surprised how these philosophical and theological discussions just glue people to their seats.

SCOTT How would you describe the effect you were after?

SCHRADER Unease. You’re withholding things that people have come to expect even if they don’t know it. But they know something is different. They know you’re not adjusting the camera. They know they’re not getting the musical cues. The tricky dance is how to keep the viewer coming toward you as you’re moving away.

One day I said to the cameraman, let’s bring out the rail, and he said, but we don’t do dolly shots. I said, today is a day to break the rule. You can break it because you created it. We might need to tell the audience, see, there are rules here; this is something that we’re not doing.

SCOTT What kind of instructions did you give the actors?

SCHRADER With Ethan it was: Every time you feel the urge to entertain, step away. Every time you feel the viewer interested in you, lean back. But he also understood that that’s a rule you’re made to break. So [in] this scene with Jeffers at the end, it’s not in the script when he starts to cry. Afterward, he said, I know we agreed that I wasn’t to show emotion, but I just felt that was the one time I should, and let’s go back and do it the other way. I said no, I think you’re right. You spotted the moment to break the rule.

SCOTT You take the audience into this condition of extremism, but you’re there as if it were a perfectly natural place to be.

SCHRADER I’ll tell you the trick, and I figured it out years ago. It’s a three-stage trick. First stage is nonemotive narration. So it’s like intravenous feeding. You’re getting nutrition but you can’t taste it.