Meet The Production Designer For Wes Anderson’s New Film

Adam Stockhausen Brings Sets To Life From Script To Screen

Interior Design: For the uninitiated, how would you describe what a production designer does?

Adam Stockhausen: The production designer is responsible for the backgrounds—not the actors, costumes, or lighting, but the settings the story takes place in. So, that covers locations, set design and construction, graphic elements, scenic finishes, and graphics. But it isn’t just one designer of course—there’s a huge and talented team in the art department with specialists in each of these areas. I think a designer for film observes a place to see what makes it alive the same way an actor might observe people for who they are when studying for a character. The inspiration is everywhere. 

ID: Many designers consider themselves storytellers in some sense, but in your work that is more literal. How do you approach translating a script’s emotional landscape into physical space, and what design principles guide you?

AS: Really, the collaboration with the director and the cinematographer guides this process. We are storytellers together, and each set or location only works in terms of its relation to the arc of the bigger story. On a smaller level, you think about how the specific location or set supports the action happening in the scene, but on a bigger level, you try to be efficient about putting the right locations and sets on screen to best tell the whole story. To make an obvious example, you wouldn’t travel to Siberia to shoot a half page scene in an elevator. 

ID: You’ve collaborated with Wes Anderson for nearly two decades now. How has your creative relationship evolved over time, and what have you learned about the art of long-term creative collaboration that might apply to other design partnerships?

AS: I first worked with Wes as the art director for designer Mark Friedberg on The Darjeeling Limited in 2006. I’m very fortunate to have several long-term collaborations and I treasure them. So much of design is getting to the point where you are speaking the same language—where you can understand the other’s process well enough to see the reasons for choices. That’s when the really fun part of collaboration begins. 

ID: Could you describe the challenges of balancing a signature aesthetic with situating each film within its own unique time and space? How do you bring something new while also giving audiences what they have come to expect?

AS: I don’t worry about it, or try for any kind of aesthetic. We really approach each film fresh. Of course, Wes has a style and his own way of storytelling, and so the results have a visual voice. For example, we made a giant under-construction train tunnel on The Phoenician Scheme. Wes wanted to do it on a stage and use forced perspective to achieve the scale. That sort of choice naturally leads you to a different look than if we had used a real train in an actual tunnel location. There are hundreds or thousands of choices like that, which add up to the look of the film. 

ID: In addition to live-action films, you’ve worked on stop-motion animation films like Isle of Dogs. How do animated films present different design challenges? How does your approach to spatial design differ between creating physical sets and conceptualizing spaces for animation? 

AS: From a basic design point of view, there’s really no difference. But, of course, from a practical point of view everything is different. Every last piece is built—from the landscape to the forks and spoons. 

ID: Can you walk us through your design process for The Phoenician Scheme? How did you establish the visual vocabulary for this project, and what were the key spatial or material decisions that shaped the film’s look?

AS: I think a key starting point in this one was the way the story is in constant motion—traveling to deserts, jungles, and massive earthwork constructions. But, we knew right away that we weren’t going to go to exotic locales to shoot any of it—unless you consider Potsdam, Germany, exotic. So, we started to develop theatrical ways to use the environment around us—a loading dock for a massive greenhouse, a sand pit quarry for the vast desert, and forced perspective tricks on stage to make the tunnel. We started these conversations right away. 

ID: When a film is set in a particular time period, do you try to use real vintage furniture pieces, or develop new creations with a vintage style?

AS: Some of each, but for the most part, we use real vintage pieces. There are exceptions of course. Special things in The Phoenician Scheme, like the rug Zsa-Zsa (Benicio del Toro) sets the shoeboxes out on are custom. And of course, the props are almost all custom makes. For this film, we created a lot of vintage look-books for the characters to read; the incredible graphics team led by Erica Dorn made all of the layouts and illustrations.

ID: How do you use models, miniatures, and painted backdrops in your work? What are the pros and cons of using these practical elements instead of CGI?

AS: They are all very different tools, and so it’s hard to think of them in terms of pros and cons. It’s more about the quality that each technique gives you and which one is the right one for a certain situation. In the heaven scenes in The Phoenician Scheme, for instance, the clouds are all cotton. I think they fit in better than computer generated ones might have. Where you have a camera, you also have to always consider the light. I think balancing these requires real and thoughtful collaboration, which is core to any design.

ID: Your work often features distinctive color palettes that support storytelling. How do you develop these schemes, and what can designers learn from how you use color to influence mood and guide the viewer’s eye?

AS: Wes has a pretty legendary color sense, so I try to not get in the way of that! Sometimes with his movies there’s a strong initial impulse—the pink of The Grand Budapest Hotel or the painted marble of Zsa-Zsa’s house in The Phoenician Scheme. Often, you can start with a strong initial idea like this and then arrange the rest of the story around it. In Bridge of Spies, for instance, Steven Spielberg and I knew that the East Berlin section of the story needed to be extremely cold both physically and visually. So, we made the New York half of the story woody and warm to contrast with and counter that idea. 

ID: How do you select materials and textures, and what role does tactile quality play in your design decisions? How do you anticipate how something will look on screen, which may not be exactly the same as it appears in person?

AS: Materials and textures play a huge role. In Zsa-Zsa’s house, for instance, we wanted the juxtaposition of the heavily ornamented and textured doors to balance with the very flat painted marble walls. One highlights the other. It’s a constant thing to pay attention to. We test of course, and you also get accustomed to how different materials will feel in front of a camera.