Following a screening of Being John Smith (2024), Nataliia Serebriakova spoke with artist-filmmaker John Smith about the making of the film and broader questions of language, politics, and experimentation in his work. 

Nataliia Serebriakova: Your latest film Being John Smith is quite autobiographical. Why did you decide to take up the subject of your name?

John Smith: That is probably quite clear from the film itself. Having one of the most common names in the English-speaking world has annoyed me all my life. When I was growing up and began to realize that I wanted to be an individual, I became very angry with my parents for giving me such a common name. I have been thinking about making a film about my name for a long time.

What finally triggered it was an experience that appears as the last shot of the film, the concert scene with the band Pulp. I went to that concert because I know Jarvis Cocker, the singer, and I was able to watch from a privileged position, looking down at thousands of people celebrating together. I originally had another idea for how I might use that footage, but it did not work out. However, I realized that I truly loved the image: several thousand people in the frame, all losing their egos, all enjoying themselves together as a single mass of humanity, while the band is singing “Common People.”

At that moment, it felt like a clear signal to finally make the film I had been thinking about for many years. Almost every day, I have an experience where I meet someone or speak to someone on the phone—for example, at a call center—and when I tell them my name, they make a joke about it, unless I make the joke first. So I have learned to address it before other people do. It was cathartic to say all of these things openly. 

NS: What was the most surprising thing you discovered when you searched for your name online? Who was the most surprising person you encountered?

JS: There were many strange discoveries that I did not include in the film, but one that stayed with me was a Native American man named John Smith who claimed to be the oldest man in the world. He died around fifty years ago. The photographs of his face are astonishing. His skin is extremely wrinkled, and his face looks almost like a dried fruit. He claimed to be about 140 years old, although this was disputed, as some people suggested he had a rare skin condition rather than extreme age. Still, finding that story was quite surprising.

More recently, just a few weeks ago, I received an email from someone. If you search for “John Smith artist,” the two main results are myself and a folk singer. I had included images of him in the film, and he wrote to me on Instagram saying that he had been told he appeared in my film, but that he could not find any previous correspondence between us. My first thought was that he might want to sue me. Instead, I sent him a link to the film and explained that he has the same problem as I do: wanting to stand out and be recognized for his work while sharing such a common name. I thought he might find the film interesting. I have not heard back from him, but I would be very curious to know how he feels about anonymity and celebrity.

NS: You have an extensive filmography that dates to the mid-1970s and a strong sense of humor. What has inspired you to keep making films in such an experimental and avant-garde vein over the years?

JS: It is difficult to be certain. If I were to psychoanalyze myself, I might say that it comes from a desire to stand out and to be different from all the other John Smiths. That may be part of it, but I also see film as a powerful art form, a way to develop empathy and to communicate with people. For me, it is very important to be present when my films are shown, to talk with audiences, and to have real, human conversations about the work.

NS: You say in the film that the older you get, the more left-wing you become politically. How do you view the world today?

JS: You can probably guess my views. I think the situation is infinitely worse than it was during the Cold War. It is strange to feel nostalgic for that period, but at least the problems seemed clearer and more defined. Today, we are facing extremely powerful right-wing leaders and governments all over the world. Figures like Putin represent something truly horrific.

There are no simple solutions anymore, because everything is interconnected. As we move deeper into late capitalism, it becomes increasingly clear that so much of this is driven by money. The arms industry, for example, is one of the most profitable industries in the world, and many powerful people have a direct financial interest in war.

I grew up in the sixties, and my generation believed, perhaps naively, that we would change the world and make it better. Looking back now, it is clear that things did not turn out that way. Many people who once claimed to hold idealistic values have become deeply disappointing figures. It is very difficult today to see realistic alternatives, or leaders with a genuine internationalist and humanitarian vision. Unfortunately, I am very pessimistic about the future.

NS: You say in the film that the current political situation makes it difficult for you to make art.

JS: Sometimes I feel that way. At other times, I actually feel the opposite. When there is something to react against, it can be productive. I think my most productive period as a filmmaker was when Margaret Thatcher was the British prime minister. She led a right-wing government, and it made many of us want to fight back, to resist the damage we felt was being done to society. So it is not entirely true that difficult political situations always make art impossible. That said, there are moments when you wake up and think, what is the point?

NS: Do you watch the work of your colleagues and other experimental filmmakers?

JS: Yes, absolutely. That is my background. I started making films when the London Filmmakers’ Co-op was active, which was centered around artist-filmmakers. I feel a strong affinity with the American avant-garde, with filmmakers such as James Benning, Michael Snow, Hollis Frampton, and many others. Although I am British, I feel more connected to the American avant-garde tradition because my films contain a sense of humor that was not very common in British experimental cinema at the time. I was relieved to discover that many American experimental films share that humor, as well as a strong interest in language. Language is central to my work, and I am deeply interested in how words shape the way we see images.

NS: How do you combine images and narrative? How does a film begin for you?

JS: It depends on the film. In the case of Being John Smith, the structure is largely based on the written text of the voiceover. I knew how the film would end when I began. I also knew how I could start: I had a photograph taken by my father when I was three hours old. Everything in between had to be constructed.

Narratively, I am interested in bringing together things that are not obviously connected, or taking ideas in unexpected directions, while still creating a sense of flow. One element leads to the next, and then to the next, almost like a puzzle. I knew I wanted to include the story of meeting Paul McCartney in the street, because it is a story I often tell. Once I had worked out the text, the challenge was to find images that could accompany it, which was not easy.

I also enjoy giving the viewer space to imagine. There are many moments in the film where there is no image on the screen. I like using sound, especially atmospheric sound that you hear without seeing its source. This creates a sense of uncertainty and imagination.

Another fundamental element of the film is the use of on-screen captions, and the dialogue they create with my spoken voice. While the voiceover often sounds confident, the captions usually express doubt. For example, I might say that I should be much more famous and that my name is the only reason I am not, while the captions might question whether the ending works or whether the film is becoming too conventional and merely illustrative.

This began quite organically. As I was assembling the film and looking at childhood photographs, I felt uneasy because it seemed too conventional, not like my usual work. I wrote that doubt directly into the film as a caption. Once I saw how it worked, I decided to develop this tension throughout the entire film.

NS: What do you think about artificial intelligence in filmmaking? Could you imagine using it in your work?

JS: I am absolutely terrified of it, partly because I am fascinated by it. I am afraid that once I start, I will fall down what people call a rabbit hole. I did make a film several years ago called Steve Hates Fish (2015), which used a smartphone translation app. You point the camera at text, such as a menu or a shop sign, and it translates it into another language while attempting to recreate the visual appearance of the original text. This was about ten years ago, at an early stage of what we now think of as artificial intelligence.

What interested me most was when the system made mistakes. I deliberately confused it by asking it to translate from French into English while filming English shop signs. The app tried to interpret the English text as if it were French and made humorous guesses. For example, when it saw the word “chemist,” it translated it as “shirt,” because chemise means shirt in French. It was funny, and I also learned new French words through the process.

That was my first real experiment with artificial intelligence. Today, of course, I use it all the time through translation tools. I recently had an exhibition in Vienna, and the museum created an audio guide using artificial intelligence. I was shocked by how accurate it was, although it did make a few small mistakes.

I am fascinated by the idea that images can now be generated or altered through language. At the same time, limitations are extremely important to me. I need to work within constraints. Unlimited possibilities can be paralyzing.

That said, I doubt I will be able to resist exploring artificial intelligence for much longer. In fact, I already used it in Being John Smith. Many of the photographs in the film were enhanced. For example, there is a large school photograph with around 600 people. I zoomed in on very small, blurred faces, and artificial intelligence sharpened them. What amazed me was that the faces looked correct. I knew those people, and the technology did not distort them.