“The Oldest Person in the World” was a quirky idea that became an obsession.
Filmmaker Sam Green typically follows his passions when making his documentaries, whether it’s the Guinness Book of World Records or an immersive sonic exploration, but this was something different.
“The oldest person in the world is such an odd sociological phenomenon, and when I learned the newest record-holder was in Brooklyn, and there was an event right by my house, I just decided to go film it,” Green recalled in a recent video interview.
With politicians speechifying, children dancing and cake being served, the 116-year-old Susannah Jones slept through nearly the whole thing, a fact that passed without comment.
Fascinated, Green followed up with the family. When Jones died, the newest record-holder was Italian, and Green happened to be in Italy at the time, so he decided to film her, too.
“I had another powerful experience filming there,” he says. “I work in this intuitive way, so I felt there’s something here, and I need to kind of keep going with it.”
He spent ten years meeting with all the record-holders, who are a varied bunch: one recites a lengthy poem that she memorized in elementary school more than a century ago.
But this film about total strangers is also Green’s most personal documentary – he started right after his 91-year-old father died and right before his son, Atlas, was born. While Atlas grows up on camera, we also see Green face his own mortality; he gets diagnosed with cancer, undergoes chemotherapy and is healthy now. He also discusses his brother’s death by suicide, something he and his mother have never fully reckoned with.
Ultimately, this film about the oldest people in the world also becomes a film about dying young and watching new life develop. The film is in theaters Sept. 16.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q. How did the movie surprise you?
You have an idea, “This is the movie I’m going to make.” And the world says, “Wait a minute, dude,” and pushes you in a different direction. I’m wonderfully lucky to have the input of the world.
It started off as me going to film these old people, and they’ll be wise. I was imagining the older lady from “Harold & Maude.” I thought they’d all be Ruth Gordon, but she was turning 80 in the movie, and I hadn’t really understood at 116, you’re no longer like that. So the movie definitely shifted.
I started with all the big questions – What’s the meaning of life? Are you scared of death? What should I do with regrets? – that I think everybody asks themselves. Ten years later, I can see there are no answers to those things.
I also didn’t set out to make such a personal movie. I’m actually a shy person. There are a million ways that can go wrong. You see one of those movies and wonder, “Why didn’t the person’s friends tell them?” But my editor pushed me to be more open about my son and my cancer. I do feel that by being vulnerable, the film may resonate with other people more. At least, that’s my hope.
Q. By the end you’re talking about revisiting the film every ten years. Were you serious? And what would you hope to add?
My producer asked, “Are you really serious about going on with this?” And without thinking, I said, “Hell, yes.”
I feel like the more time passes, the stronger it’ll get as a concept and a project. Also, it’s a movie about the open-ended future, so I’m curious to see what happens and to have that go in the movie. And the oldest person in the world is such a grand, almost operatic subject, so it requires the biggest gesture, a gesture that spans generations, an epic thing fitting for the topic of our humanity.
Whatever I’ll learn will be something I won’t know now. But I’m sure I will learn a lot.
Q. There were two women who briefly held the record who aren’t on camera. Did you try to interview them?
I’m a completist, so I interviewed every single person, but those two were unresponsive, so it didn’t help the movie to include them. The current woman, Ethel Caterham, is the first person who rebuffed my overtures. But the thing is, she’s rebuffed almost everybody, even the Guinness Book of Records when they wanted to give her a plaque.
King Charles did go visit her. I thought, “I’ve been working on this for ten years, and you’re going to talk to King Charles and not me?”
Q. Men are never the record-holders. Were you interested in interviewing the oldest men?
I have been tempted, and I will film the oldest man at some point, but I’ve been waiting for the right person. Because I’m not doing all of them, I have the luxury of waiting for a really good subject.
Q. Did the film change your views on living and dying?
I definitely don’t want to live to be 116.
It did change the way I thought about getting old and what I wanted from life, but it’s hard to untangle the film from what happened to me over the past 10 years – you have a child and face death yourself and it’s all in the same swirl.
I interviewed a gerontologist who studies people over 110. And he said, “The secret is to choose your parents and your grandparents wisely.”
Living that long is genetic. But there are things you can do now to nudge how you’ll be doing in 30 years.
One of the record-holders said, “The secret to a long life is don’t worry about stuff.” That’s trite. We all know it, but hearing it is significant.
It’s all just common sense stuff: Try to eat a little healthier and get sleep and don’t have as much stress and have friends and a community around you.
Another record holder said, “You are young and now is the time to do good works,” and it’s a reminder that while you can try to nudge yourself, so you’ll be healthier when you’re old, you also need to be present in the moment.
All you have is today, so you better enjoy it and appreciate it. Because you could get hit by a bus tomorrow.