In Alexander Payne’s award-winning film Sideways, the famous line, “If anyone orders Merlot, I’m leaving,” followed by a poetic homage to the wonders of Pinot Noir, is said to have revolutionized the wine industry in the US and Great Britain. Following the film’s release, Merlot sales dropped by two percent, while Pinot Noir sales surged by 16 percent.
The film, directed and co-written by Payne was a critical success, earning five Academy Award nominations and winning the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay in 2005. While its themes of love, betrayal, loneliness, and friendship resonate deeply worldwide, Sideways holds special significance for Armenians, featuring an Armenian family and a wedding rich in cultural symbolism. Even two decades later, viewers are moved by the details: a painting of Mount Ararat in the bride’s kitchen, surrounded by national symbols such as a ceramic pomegranate, the Armenian alphabet, and Armenian paintings adorning the living room, along with the sound of Armenian prayers during the wedding ceremony in an Armenian church.
Raised in Nebraska, Payne, a second-generation Greek American, studied at Stanford University and earned a master’s degree in film directing from UCLA Film School. He is celebrated for his sharp, satirical portrayals of contemporary American society and his films often feature complex characters that are both humorous and poignant, with unexpected twists.
Over his illustrious career, he has directed eight feature films, collectively earning 24 Academy Award nominations. Four of his films were nominated for Best Picture, and he has personally received three Best Director nods and two Oscars for Best Adapted Screenplay. Most recently, his film The Holdovers earned an Oscar for the Best Supporting Actress.
At the 21st edition of the Golden Apricot International Film Festival (GAIFF), Payne served as Head of the Jury for the international competition. He was also honored with the Parajanov’s Thaler award for his outstanding contributions to world cinema. As part of the festival, Payne delivered inspiring talks at TUMO and AGBU Armenia.
In an exclusive interview with AGBU Magazine, the director discussed the significance of film festivals, the Golden Apricot’s role, and his perspectives on the Armenian film industry and beyond.
Q: Many thanks for taking the time to talk with us about GAIFF and the Armenian film industry. Let’s start with the role of film festivals in general. What benefits can they bring to the host country?
A: I think a film festival is as crucial to the cultural life of a community or a nation as a symphony orchestra, a museum, or a ballet. Filmmakers make films, but most of these don’t get commercial distribution. So, how else are people supposed to see them if not at a film festival? For a small country like Armenia, without a large film industry, it’s especially important to have a film festival, and even more so to showcase Armenian films there. People need to see themselves mirrored in films, and I believe it’s a powerful tool for building national identity.
That’s the cultural aspect. It benefits both filmmakers and the public. Then there’s the economic side, which I don’t care about as much, but as a film festival grows, it brings in hotel bookings, rental cars, restaurant visits. It’s like a big convention coming to town, and the more it grows, the more economic benefit it provides to the host city.
Q: You have been to numerous film festivals and this is your first time in Armenia. What impressions would you like to share about Golden Apricot?
A: This is a superficial view since I’ve only been here for six days, so I can’t say much in depth. As we say in English, I haven’t looked under the hood of the car. But what’s beautiful here is the enthusiasm for cinema and the thoughtfulness in how the festival is programmed. It’s clear in all the categories—the international selection, which I was part of, and especially the regional selection, where regional films are being showcased and appreciated. The same goes for the documentaries and shorts.
There’s also this idea: countries often experience a burst or blossoming of cinema when there’s a historical necessity to speak. Romania had this around 2005-2006, for instance. In Armenia, I’ve only seen one film so far, 1489, and in that movie, you can feel this necessity to speak. The filmmaker hadn’t planned on making films, but after her brother disappeared in the war, she felt compelled. Coming from a family of artists, she picked up her iPhone and created a powerful film.
I think a film festival is as crucial to the cultural life of a community or a nation as a symphony orchestra, a museum, or a ballet.
So here too I see a historical necessity to speak and not just about the genocide. Armenians have many stories to tell. Just as Judaism is more than the Holocaust, Armenian identity is more than the Genocide. It’s a culture with deep history and rich narratives. Armenians should be making all kinds of films, including comedies, because there’s so much more to explore beyond historical trauma.
But it’s not just about Armenians having stories to tell—it’s about individual artists having their own stories and the access they need to funding and distribution. What happens in many countries is that people start making films, and eventually, one remarkable artist creates something that gains international recognition. This success can create momentum, helping other filmmakers from that small country without a strong film industry gain visibility as well.
Q: Your films often explore various human conditions and layers of identity. Do you think your Greek American background has influenced this focus?
A: Maybe. I’d like to think I’d be an interesting filmmaker no matter where my soul had parachuted into—whatever country or body that might be. We can’t really control where our soul ends up. In my case, as a Greek American, I feel a connection similar to that of Armenians. Maybe not quite as strong, but like Armenians, Greeks hold tightly to their background. What happens then is not just the continuation of Greek nationality but the creation of a Greek American identity. The same goes for Armenians from places like LA—they’re Armenians, but they’re also LA Armenians, whatever that means. It’s a blend of identities.
And because both Greeks and Armenians have relatively recent histories of migration to America, within the last 100 or 110 years, there’s still this sense of being a participant observer. We’re fully American, engaging with and benefiting from society, but we’re also observing it. When you go home, it feels like something else entirely. Even now, as a second-generation American, I find myself asking, ‘Is so-and-so Greek, or are they American?’ I’m sure Armenians do the same. It’s part of the experience of holding onto your cultural identity while living in a new country.
Q: And still, you chose to feature an Armenian family and wedding in Sideways rather than Greek. The details, especially the Armenian household and the wedding create such a beautifully authentic Armenian American atmosphere. What is behind this choice?
A: In Sideways, the story is set in Los Angeles, and I had a wedding scene. I didn’t want it to be just about Americans. I thought let’s give some ethnicity to the bride, and Nia Vardalos’ film My Big Fat Greek Wedding had already come out, so I thought, “All right. They know about Greeks. Let’s do Armenians.”
As for the details, that’s part of my job. In The Holdovers, I needed to create a school set in 1970, so I aimed to recreate that time period with great accuracy. It’s all about details. I’m so happy you asked that question, because when you make those details, the best compliment is when someone from that culture recognizes it and says, “Wow. They got it right. Wow.” So, thanks for the question.
Q: We are grateful to you for introducing Armenian culture to a global audience. Building on this, Armenia established a film commission in 2022 to leverage its potential as a film location. What are your thoughts on this initiative?
A: Many countries have benefited significantly from having film commissions that make it easier for foreign productions to film there, even if the setting isn’t explicitly portrayed as that country.
What Armenia might still be lacking is the infrastructure of skilled technicians. It’s one thing to have beautiful landscapes, affordable hotels, and rental cars, but if a film production needs to import all the technical crew, it becomes less appealing. However, this is a process that builds over time. Each production that comes in will hire local people, offering them training, and gradually, you develop a more experienced local workforce. The next time a production arrives, you have more crew members in the camera department, and so on.
For this to work effectively, the Armenian Film Commission should not only offer incentives like good hotel rates or other financial incentives but also ensure there is a growing pool of local talent that filmmakers can hire without additional lodging costs. However, this requires cooperation from the government, which needs a visionary approach. You need someone in the government willing to commit to this idea for five years, let’s say, and assess its economic impact. Naturally, there will be opposition, with some saying, ‘Why should we support film productions?’ But without any support, you’re getting 100% of zero right now.
And speaking of film locations, you come out of the airport, and you see that old, sinister-looking Soviet building. The Armenian Film Commission should put that in their photos, because that would be a perfect headquarters for the bad guys. It’s fantastic, and lit at sunlight with the clouds, it was really captivating.
Q: What advice would you offer to the aspiring filmmakers of Armenia?
A: It would be great if aspiring filmmakers could go abroad for training if they can figure out how to afford it. They could then bring those skills back to their home country, which is quite common. And I’m sure some are already doing so. For instance, TUMO CEO Marie Lou Papazian’s daughter is studying at NYU Film School. She returned for the summer, interned with the festival, and taught a writing workshop to kids at TUMO, which is an incredible place. With TUMO opening branches in other cities worldwide, there might be an opportunity to build bridges and encourage Armenian students to study abroad.
Beyond training, filmmakers should watch great films, read books, and travel to places around the world. It’s not enough to just study film; they need to experience life, love, hate, greed, and develop a cultured mindset. As I mentioned at TUMO, “Any idiot can learn how to make a movie in one week. You then spend the rest of your life figuring out what to film. What’s the story? Who are those people?” That’s what truly matters.
And finally, young filmmakers should remember that writing a script is the start of making a movie, as it involves imagining scenes and characters. A script is essentially a record of this imagination process. Before others read it, you need to ensure it’s well-written, concise, and follows proper screenplay form. Don’t forget that the only Oscar that Citizen Kane won was for screenplay.
