How Do You Profile Someone Who Wants to Remain a Mystery?

Oscar-winning documentarian Morgan Neville has cultivated a reputation for delving into the lives of enigmatic figures, from rock legends to beloved children’s television hosts. His latest works, "Man on the Run," exploring Paul McCartney’s post-Beatles era, and "Lorne," a deep dive into the elusive "Saturday Night Live" impresario Lorne Michaels, further solidify his mastery of capturing the essence of individuals who often prefer to operate in the shadows. Neville, known for films like "20 Feet From Stardom," "Keith Richards: Under the Influence," "Won’t You Be My Neighbor?," "Shangri-La," "Roadrunner," and "Steve!, " discussed the unique challenges and rewards of profiling subjects who are both celebrated and intensely private.
The documentary landscape is replete with biographical films, but Neville’s approach stands out. He consistently gravitates towards subjects who possess a certain mystique, a reluctance to fully reveal themselves, making the act of documenting them a delicate dance between access and enigma. This year alone, Neville has presented two significant cultural figures to audiences: Paul McCartney and Lorne Michaels. "Man on the Run" meticulously reconstructs McCartney’s formative years following the monumental breakup of The Beatles, charting his transition from a pastoral existence in Scotland to the helm of his new band, Wings. Simultaneously, "Lorne" attempts to demystify Lorne Michaels, the visionary producer behind the enduring institution of "Saturday Night Live." As a close associate of Michaels aptly put it, "There’s nobody I know who more wants a documentary made about him… and really doesn’t want a documentary made about him."
This paradox is precisely what makes "Lorne" so compelling. The initial reaction upon viewing the film is one of astonishment that Neville managed to gain the trust of the notoriously private producer to allow cameras into his professional and, to some extent, personal sphere. The second, equally potent, thought is how Michaels, a master of deflection and subtlety, managed to evade the full scrutiny of the documentary crew for so long. The film unfolds as a sophisticated game of cat and mouse, as Neville navigates Michaels’s extensive career, highlighting his numerous triumphs and acknowledging a significant professional setback, all while capturing the intense, behind-the-scenes process of producing a typical "Saturday Night Live" episode. While many documentaries focus on the groundbreaking show itself, "Lorne" endeavors to illuminate the man orchestrating the magic from behind the curtain at 30 Rockefeller Plaza.
A recent conversation with Neville at the Roxy Hotel in downtown Manhattan offered a glimpse into the intricate process of crafting these intimate portraits. He elaborated on the specific hurdles presented by Michaels, as well as his recent collaborations with Paul McCartney and Steve Martin. Neville detailed his methods for building rapport with subjects who are inherently guarded about their private lives, and shared insights into his broader filmmaking philosophy.
The Art of Approaching Elusive Subjects
Neville’s career has seen him tackle an impressive array of larger-than-life figures. The juxtaposition of "Man on the Run" and "Lorne," released in close succession, underscores his ability to find common ground and compelling narratives within vastly different personalities and cultural spheres. "Part of what has gotten easier in my career is I’ve done enough of these; people tend to pick me for a reason," Neville explained. "But I’ve also sniffed around on a project enough to know when I’m willing to make the leap or not. There are projects that I’ve met on, I’ve talked to people, and then jumped out because they don’t really want to go through the process of someone making a film about them."
The assumption would be that Lorne Michaels, a figure renowned for his discretion, would be among those who opt out. "I would have thought so!" Neville admitted. "Lorne is a weird one. Like, McCartney was very clear. I met with him, told him what I thought the scope of the film should be. And he said great. And then we never had another talk about the film. I didn’t change a frame of it. Lorne hasn’t watched this film. He’s supposed to be at the premiere tonight. He’s been elusive as to whether or not he’s going to have his picture taken. Beyond that, I don’t know."
The genesis of the Michaels project is as unconventional as the man himself. Neville never directly pitched Lorne Michaels on the idea of a documentary, nor did Michaels explicitly commission Neville to undertake the project. This deliberate ambiguity is a hallmark of Michaels’s public persona, a trait that mirrors the notoriously opaque audition process for "Saturday Night Live" itself, where potential hires often leave uncertain of their status. Neville experienced this firsthand.
The Genesis of "Lorne": From Anniversary to Autobiography
The initial impetus for a documentary project involving "Saturday Night Live" arose around the show’s 50th anniversary. Neville, a self-proclaimed lifelong "SNL obsessive," received an unexpected invitation to meet Michaels at The Polo Bar. His deep connection to the show, dating back to his father’s recording of the first season on a Betamax, fueled his enthusiasm. He had witnessed The Blues Brothers perform live and possessed a well-worn "Rolling Stone" paperback collecting early articles on the program.
During their initial meeting, Neville proposed a more expansive approach to commemorating the anniversary. "It’s 50 years – you should make five different documentaries about ‘SNL.’ Take more of a ’30 for 30′ approach and make stand-alone stories," he suggested. Michaels, intrigued, invited Neville back for a follow-up meeting during a show week.
The subsequent encounter proved to be a pivotal moment. Neville arrived expecting a private discussion, only to find himself in a room with approximately sixteen senior writers and producers from "SNL." Michaels posed the question, "So what are your ideas?" Neville presented a dozen concepts, including documentaries on iconic sketches like "More Cowbell," the audition process, and the show’s engagement with politics.

The Peacock Series and the Standalone Vision
These ideas ultimately formed the basis for four documentaries that aired on Peacock. Neville served as executive producer for these projects. The initial plan envisioned five documentaries, and Neville concluded his pitch by suggesting, "And you could make a documentary about you, Lorne. That’d be really interesting." Michaels’s reaction was characteristically understated; he turned to a producer and inquired about her thoughts. The meeting concluded without a definitive decision, leaving Neville uncertain of which projects would move forward.
It was later communicated that Michaels would participate in a documentary about himself, provided it was a distinct project. Neville stipulated that such a film should not be intrinsically tied to the "SNL" anniversary celebration and, crucially, that Michaels could not be a producer. This separation was essential for the standalone feature. Consequently, only four documentaries were produced for the 50th anniversary, allowing the potential for a dedicated profile of Michaels to be developed independently.
Navigating the Tightrope: Between Praise and Scrutiny
The challenge of profiling a figure like Michaels, or indeed Steve Martin, who also maintains stringent boundaries regarding his privacy, lies in striking a delicate balance. The goal is to create a film that is neither an exposé nor a hagiography. Neville contends that his approach is rooted in a desire for understanding. "I’m not here to praise someone or to bury someone. I’m just here to understand. Help me understand why you would do this, or what happened at this point here," he stated, emphasizing his willingness to probe when necessary.
With Steve Martin, the process evolved into something akin to a "para-therapeutic relationship," given the extensive hours spent discussing profound life events. Neville begins by engaging in informal conversations with a tape recorder before filming commences. In Paul McCartney’s case, this method was sustained throughout the entire project, with no filming taking place.
Lorne Michaels: The Elusive Subject
Neville’s initial taped conversation with Lorne Michaels at his office lasted ninety minutes. From this exchange, Neville concluded that Michaels would not serve as the film’s narrator. "Lorne is not an unreliable narrator. He’s not a narrator, period," Neville observed. Unlike McCartney or Martin, who actively guide the audience through their experiences and emotions, Michaels’s participation was more circumspect. The moment the cameras arrived, Michaels’s inherent evasiveness became apparent.
"He sort of ghosts you," Neville described, a tactic he initially interpreted as a deliberate "bit." However, he soon realized it was a genuine attempt to evade the filming process. The documentary thus became an exercise in patiently acclimatizing Michaels to the presence of the film crew, a process Neville likened to observing wildlife. "It’s OK. I can get a little closer, a little closer… feed you a little food," he quipped, referencing the slow, incremental approach required.
Beyond the Show: Unearthing the Man
It is virtually impossible to discuss Lorne Michaels without acknowledging "Saturday Night Live." The risk, Neville noted, was creating a documentary that primarily focused on the show, using Michaels as a commentator on its history rather than exploring his individual journey. While Michaels offers insights into "SNL’s" evolution, Neville aimed to delve deeper, uncovering the life lived beyond the studio.
The film incorporates interviews with individuals outside the "SNL" orbit, including Hart Pomerantz, Michaels’s former comedy partner from Toronto. While early cuts of the film contained more material about their shared past, Neville sought to balance the desires of the deeply invested "SNL" fans with those who had limited prior knowledge. The aim was to create a personal portrait that resonated with a broader audience.
The Nuance of Personality: Access vs. True Access
Neville characterized the experience of filming Lorne Michaels as having "all this access and yet very little actual access." He reiterated the sentiment of a friend of Michaels: "There’s nobody I know who more wants a documentary made about him and really doesn’t want a documentary made about him." This constant negotiation defined the production. At times, the crew had freedom to film; at others, Michaels would simply disappear. "So a lot of it was just trying to get crumbs," Neville admitted.
Much of the interview footage was captured in fleeting moments, often late on Thursday, Friday, or even Saturday nights, during the twenty-minute intervals between dress rehearsal and the live broadcast. "A lot of interview time was just found time. Like, ‘I’m just gonna keep going till somebody knocks on that door and pulls him out,’" Neville recounted. These brief encounters provided invaluable glimpses into Michaels’s working process, revealing him in his "natural habitat," reacting to the pressures of show night, and exhibiting his famously dry wit. Neville was pleased to have captured this authentic dimension, contrasting it with the more curated persona often seen on television.

Understanding the Creative Instinct: McCartney and Martin
Neville’s approach to eliciting candid responses from subjects like Paul McCartney and Steve Martin, who have decades of public interviews behind them, involves a strategic combination of broad thematic exploration and granular detail. With McCartney, who has been interviewed extensively, Neville focused on topics beyond music, such as painting, drawing on his connection to Willem de Kooning and his wife Linda’s familial ties to the artist. This allowed for new conversations, creating a foundation for deeper discussions about his post-Beatles life.
"Man on the Run" can be seen as a thematic sequel to Peter Jackson’s "Get Back," exploring the emotional aftermath of McCartney’s creative outpouring and the challenges of navigating heartbreak and public scrutiny. Neville’s questions often delved into specific musical details, such as the tonal differences between a Rickenbacker and a Höfner bass, or the contributions of engineers like Geoff Emerick. This micro-level inquiry allowed McCartney to engage with subjects he might not typically elaborate on in broader interviews.
For Steve Martin, Neville recognized the depth of his literary work, acknowledging his skill in crafting nuanced and emotionally complex characters. He approached Martin as one storyteller to another, framing the documentary as a shared narrative endeavor. Neville aimed to move beyond Martin’s well-worn "junket mode" interviews, which constituted the vast majority of his public appearances, and access the more introspective mode he displayed in interviews with Charlie Rose or on "Fresh Air." Martin understood this intention, recognizing Neville’s mission to explore the artist’s deeper artistic sensibilities.
Embracing the Box and Navigating Legacy
The conversation also touched upon the inherent challenges of public perception and legacy. Neville drew a parallel between Steve Martin and Paul McCartney, both of whom experienced a disconnect between their artistic evolution and audience expectations. Following the critical reception of "Pennies From Heaven," Martin reportedly felt a disconnect between the films he wished to make and the public’s perception of his comedic persona. Similarly, McCartney faced expectations that, at times, seemed to limit his creative exploration.
Neville articulated a central theme in his work: the struggle of artists to break free from the boxes created by their initial fame. "You became famous for something, so why would you want to do something besides what you became famous for?" he questioned, highlighting the tension between an artist’s evolving creative instincts and the weight of public expectation.
In contrast to Martin and McCartney’s desire to redefine themselves, Neville observed that Lorne Michaels has, in a sense, embraced his role and continuously reinvented the very entity he nurtured: "Saturday Night Live." Michaels’s ability to adapt to shifting comedic trends, and at times dictate them, is a testament to his unique position. Neville described Michaels not as an author with overt "fingerprints," but as a "filter" attuned to what is funny, even if the underlying mechanisms are not fully grasped by him personally. This malleability allows "SNL" to remain relevant, incorporating contemporary cultural touchstones like TikTok memes, while still accommodating a diverse range of comedic styles.
The Ever-Present Challenge: "Maybe This Year?"
When asked about the moment "Saturday Night Live" became perennial, Neville noted that interviewees offered various answers, pointing to the show’s reinventions, the era of Will Ferrell, or the post-9/11 period. Michaels’s own response was characteristically pragmatic: "Maybe this year?" This answer underscores his lack of complacency and his continued engagement with the present demands of the show.
Neville characterized Michaels as a creature of habit, drawing a parallel to Albert Einstein’s minimalist approach to attire to focus on more significant matters. However, he emphasized that Michaels has evolved, with significant influences like children and a consistent embrace of change being central to "SNL’s" enduring success over 51 years.
A New Perspective on the Wizard of Oz
Having navigated the complex terrain of profiling Lorne Michaels, Neville’s perception of the legendary producer has shifted. He moved from viewing Michaels as the omniscient "Wizard of Oz," orchestrating fame from behind the scenes, to recognizing him as someone actively engaged in the trenches, striving to navigate the immediate challenges of each week. The film, Neville speculates, may have been a means for Michaels to counter the perception of his job being effortlessly executed from a position of power. Instead, Michaels is presented as someone who diligently works to maintain the show’s integrity, focusing on problem-solving rather than grand, pre-ordained designs.
The enduring legacy of "Saturday Night Live," Neville concludes, is rooted in its founder’s profound understanding of the "variety show" concept, a principle Michaels has consistently articulated: there is something for everyone, but not everything is for everyone. This adaptable philosophy, coupled with a constant willingness to embrace change, remains the bedrock of the show’s remarkable longevity.




