Theroux trod lightly to film My Scientology Movie

"I've said in the past that the strangest thing about strange people is how normal they are," says BBC documentarian Louis Theroux.

"I try to get to know people, and part of that is not getting in their faces too much. It's not so much a strategy. It's more a part of who I am. From the earliest days of when I started at TV Nation [the Michael Moore-hosted comic newsmagazine from the 1990s], I found it more natural to get to know and in my own way charm the people I was among. It's really more of a character flaw than a professional asset. I would rather be liked by people, but at the same time, I do try to get my questions answered."

Unlike the gleefully confrontational Moore, the bespectacled Theroux's more low key approach has enabled him to profile individuals or groups with a variety of unorthodox and potentially dangerous views.

He has documented the Ku Klux Klan's attempt to rebrand itself as a civil rights organization for whites (it wasn't successful) and how guitarist Ted Nugent ("Cat Scratch Fever") compared the late Janet Reno to Adolf Hitler. On two occasions he spent time with Topeka's controversial Westboro Baptist Church.

All of this seems to be solid preparation for his most recent exploration, My Scientology Movie, screened at the Ron Robinson Theater earlier this week. (If you missed the documentary on the big screen, you can still catch it on iTunes, Amazon and other pay-per-view outlets.)

"I'm glad it's on in Little Rock," he says. "I'm not sure why it's on in Little Rock because I was told it was only going on in New York and L.A., but I'm delighted that it's getting a little foothold in the South."

Thanks to its modest budget and controversial subject matter, the film Theroux made with director John Dower has grossed around $2.2 million from surprising corners of the world. That's not a bad haul for a documentary, especially one that was made without the cooperation of its subjects.

A PLIABLE WALL

Theroux says he and Dower tried to get an official perspective on the Church of Scientology, which was founded by science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard in the 1950s. The initial lack of cooperation presented an unusual situation for Theroux because Nugent, Westboro Baptist and others weren't inhibited about speaking their minds to him. In the beginning of the film Scientology leader David Miscavige and his church seem to have put up a wall against Theroux and his ilk.

"Westboro will do more than talk to you. They actually invite you in, and in fact the reporters they speak to are a part of their whole End Times program because they believe that for Jesus to come back the whole world has to have heard and then rejected their message. So by covering them, in their minds you are bringing the news to the world," Theroux says. "Scientologists don't present a wall necessarily. The 'wall' implies no engagement, but they do engage. They come out and meet you, but they do it in this slightly, weirdly aggressive way of sending out crews -- I don't mean Tom Cruise -- I mean documentary crews. They film you without saying who they are.

"It seemed to be reasonable to go out to Gold Base [Scientology headquarters in Hemet, Calif.]. We actually went out there three times to get shots and a flavor of the base. The first time, not much happened, but the second two times they sent out a woman named Catherine Fraser, and her whole style of interacting with me was very revealing of how the church operates. They use something called 'Tone 40,' which is a very imperious way of talking to someone, kind of issuing these commands. She didn't really have a conversation, but I was attempting to engage with her that would make her respond in a more human way."

GETTING RATHBUNNED

Because the gates to Gold Base and the Celebrity Centre were closed to Theroux even after repeated visits, he consulted with actor and former member Steven Mango and former church executive Mark C. "Marty" Rathbun to give viewers a feel for what life is like in Scientology. In the film, Rathbun gives Theroux a reading on an e-meter, which the church uses for counseling, and puts Theroux and others through a scary session of "bull baiting."

It's as bad as it sounds.

"And I underwent some of those during the course of making the film with Marty Rathbun because he's an expert on all aspects of Scientology practice and scripture," Theroux says. "At the airport, you see (Scientology emissaries) confronting Marty, whom they see as a 'Suppressive Person' because he's left Scientology and blown the whistle on what he saw as being wrong with it. They're basically ladling abuse all over him. There's an unbelievable level of vitriol and abuse to just upset him and also filming it all the while."

In a blog post, Rathbun has complained, "I found the film My Scientology Movie to be saddening. It evidences the degeneration of a once considerable talent, award-winning producer Simon Chinn. During my involvement in the movie's creation I witnessed Chinn being sucked into the staged-news, infotainment vortex that seems to have consumed the erstwhile Fourth Estate."

Mango and other participants have been quick to defend Theroux and the other filmmakers, and the presenter says the film is better for Rathbun's somewhat antagonistic behavior throughout the process.

"He's a fascinating guy. I still have affection for him even though he's denounced the film. His latest move has just been to turn his back on the world of anti-Scientology. He sees it in his own way as much of a cult as Scientology is. I sort of respect his unwillingness to embrace either one or the other," Theroux says.

"One of the fascinating things about working on the film and dealing with Marty is that he's not one of those Scientologists who leave and claim they were taken advantage of. What Marty has that none of the others have is this claim to have been at the very top of the organization and to have worked hand-in-hand with David Miscavige as his Mr. Fix-It. In Marty's description, David Miscavige is obsessed with Marty. It's very classic. It's very mythic. Whether it's true or not, in Marty's vision, it's like [James] Bond and the super villain are locked in some kind of quasi love affair, or a metaphorical love affair. They are each other's alter ego somehow."

NO DIRECTION HOME

What's curiously missing from My Scientology Movie is a segment explaining the church's origin story. Hubbard's accounts of how space overlord Xenu flew captive aliens and blew them up in volcanoes during prehistory was featured in Alex Gibney's Emmy-winning Going Clear and had been mercilessly lampooned in South Park.

"We don't want to judge a religion by what it believes but by what it practices," Theroux says. "That's something I've learned over the years by covering these sorts of stories. You have UFO believers who are gentle and benign and respectful, and then you have law firms that are abusive. So it's not really about how outlandish the mythology of the group is.

"All religions are subject to the irrational and the seemingly ludicrous, plus Scientology has always said that we're deeply offended by people giving away our secrets and taking them out of context. I thought if we were going to offend, which I thought we might do, we wouldn't do it gratuitously. We wouldn't do it kind of gleefully. There was no reason to go into myths about an esoteric universe origin story."

Theroux's wanderings through different landscapes and ideologies shouldn't seem surprising. He's the son of American travel writer and novelist Paul Theroux (The Mosquito Coast), and his brothers Peter and Andrew are also writers, while his cousin Justin is an actor (The Girl on the Train) and screenwriter.

MovieStyle on 03/24/2017

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