When prolific Welsh indie director Jamie Adams went looking for his next film, he didn’t start with a famous name in mind. He started with an epiphany. For years, he’s had a drawer full of ideas — loose outlines waiting for the right moment. “Only What We Carry” was one of them. But it wasn’t until when he was in his 40s, and as a father, that the story fully resonated.
“When you’re in your 20s at film school, you study all these great artists. You’re encouraged to admire them, to worship them,” he says to Variety in his first interview about the film. “But as time passes, everybody starts reassessing who these artists are and what we’ve allowed them to be. A lot of them are complicated,” he says, citing Woody Allen, Picasso and Stanley Kubrick.
“Now I’m a father of three … We’ve had lots of discussions about what it means to be an artist and looking at these people with new eyes,” says Adams, who’s currently knee-deep in editing. “Only What We Carry” explores that shift in a lighthearted way, blending comedy and drama.
With his Nouvelle Vague-inspired improvised filmmaking style and character-driven approach, Adams has attracted such actors to his projects as James McAvoy, Martin Freeman and Malin Akerman.
But he’s topped himself with this new film, which is repped internationally by International Film Trust at the European Film Market. He was able to pull Quentin Tarantino from retirement for a six-day shoot alongside Simon Pegg, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Sofia Boutella, Liam Hellmann and Lizzy McAlpine.
Adams says he sensed Tarantino was in a reflective moment after shelving a project (“The Adventures of Cliff Booth,” which Tarantino wrote but David Fincher directed) and reached out with his outline and personal letter. He didn’t expect a response, but then two weeks later, Tarantino’s agent requested a Zoom. Adams logged on, nursing what he describes as the worst toothache of his life — one his dentist diagnosed as psychosomatic. “Then you hear his voice,” Adams says. “It’s like Disneyland for filmmakers.”
“Tarantino proved to be an exceptional actor,” Adams says. “He was wonderful. Curious. Collaborative. He loves actors. He loves cinema history. Being in France making something that felt inspired by Eric Rohmer excited him.”
The film shot entirely in Deauville, the posh seaside town in Normandy. Adams described the atmosphere as “summer camp,” with no egos and a collaborative spirit across the six-day shoot. Because filming took place at the end of summer, the town was unusually quiet. “It almost felt like a studio backlot. The town square looked like a set. It felt magical,” he reminisces.
Next up, Adams might be looking for an even bigger challenge: persuading Martin Scorsese to step in front of his camera. “It’s time for the directors who really want to be actors to come and improvise. Truffaut was a great actor. So many of them are frustrated actors,” he says.
Tell me about the starting point, the genesis of “Only What We Carry.” How did it come about?
That’s a good question. I’ve had this story outlined for many years. Every now and again, when it’s time to think about a new project, I go to my drawer full of ideas and see which one resonates with me. For this one, I’ve been thinking a lot about being in my 40s now. When you’re in your 20s at film school, you study all these great artists. You’re encouraged to admire them, to worship them. But as time passes, everybody starts reassessing who these artists are and what we’ve allowed them to be. A lot of them are complicated. Whether it’s Woody Allen, Picasso… or Stanley Kubrick on “The Shining” and how he treated Shelley Duvall, or even stories about Jack Nicholson being told he could only eat cheese sandwiches at lunch — when you’re 20, you laugh about it. It’s part of the mythology. Now I’m a father of three — 19, 20 and 14 — and I have two daughters. We’ve had lots of discussions about what it means to be an artist and looking back at these people with new eyes. I’ve been wanting to explore that. With James McAvoy, we explored something similar in a darker way on a previous film (“Pose”). But this time I wanted to approach it more in my voice — comedy with drama. Not comedy as jokes, but in a more human way of looking at something. That’s where it started.
How did Simon Pegg come on board?
I’d just worked with Martin Freeman, and he mentioned that Simon — who’s a friend of his — was fascinated by the process and would get involved if I reached out. So I did what I always do. I reached out via his agent and sent what I normally send — an outline, about eight pages, and a letter explaining why I thought he’d be great for the character of Julian Johns. Then we have a conversation to see if we align in terms of perspective. After that, we do character conversations. They’re led by the actor, really. I ask questions, they respond, and whatever they say becomes the truth. There’s no homework. It’s just a conversation. And whatever comes out in that moment is what we use.
So you already had the pitch when you started talking to him?
I wouldn’t say there’s any preciseness to it. But yes, I had the outline — about eight pages of story. This is where I think it can go. Quentin actually said he was fascinated by the way I write these outlines because there’s no fixed ending. There’s room for the actors to maneuver. They can see the general narrative, but they can also see the freedom. He told me he tried writing one himself during downtime and said it didn’t feel right. I said that’s because he’s one of the greatest storytellers of all time — he naturally wants beginning, middle and end.
How did you approach Quentin Tarantino?
Very similar to everyone else. I guess I was offering something that he wasn’t offered ever. So the idea of making a feature film a week, the idea that everything really is improvised from what I call a scriptment, which is like a 30-page scene-by-scene outline with no dialogue in it.
By that point, Simon was on board, Sofia Boutella had signed up, and Charlotte Gainsbourg had come on. I noticed Quentin was doing a lot of interviews at Sundance and Cannes [in 2024] and that he’d put aside a film project (“The Adventures of Cliff Booth”). It felt like he was in a moment of contemplation. I also knew that his first love was acting. When I was younger, it was common knowledge that he wanted to act — he speaks first in “Reservoir Dogs.” So I appealed to that side of him.
I sent him the story outline and a letter. I was just very honest about believing in him as an actor. Improvisation, the way I use it, is about being present and reacting organically. He’s one of the greatest conversational storytellers. I thought that would be incredible in character. I didn’t think I’d hear back. But two weeks later, on a Sunday, his agent emailed saying Quentin was intrigued and wanted a Zoom.
That day, I had the worst toothache of my life. The dentist said nothing was wrong — it was psychosomatic. I was terrified. I was in the garden massaging my cheek because I was in so much pain.
Then I got on Zoom. And once you hear his voice, you’re transported. It’s like Disneyland for filmmakers. The conversation went everywhere, from movies, to a Welsh sitcom called “Gavin & Stacey,” to what his life was like, what my life was like. At one point he tried to talk about the character, and said “I’ve written quite a few questions here about the character,” and I said, “No, this isn’t the moment for that. That’s the next conversation.” As soon as I got off, I thought, “Why did I say that?” And he told me later that he loved that moment in that first conversation because he was like, “Well, I’m going to be directed.” Two days later, he was on board.
What were the character conversations like with Tarantino?
We tried to have at least three character conversations. They were about texture rather than timeline. What did their childhood kitchen look like? What food do they grab from the fridge? What does their house look like from the outside? At one point he decided his character should have a broken wrist. He turned up on set with a cast. For him, it was symbolic — carrying weight physically. By the end, he doesn’t need it anymore. He didn’t over-explain it. He just knew it was necessary.
You shot the film in six days. How does that process work?
Yes, we shoot in six days with a single camera. We know what we want to shoot each day, but if a scene becomes more important, we stay with it. If it’s not giving us what we hoped, we move on. Everything is an opportunity. We don’t really do traditional takes — we call them passes. Usually four or five per scene. During a pass, we might start on a two-shot and drift into a close-up. The actors don’t know when it’s their close-up. They just have to stay present. It’s democratic. Everyone is always listening.
What was the atmosphere like on set?
It was like summer camp. No egos. No special treatment. Everyone had breakfast together. There were no special trailers. We were all pulling in the same direction. We shot in Deauville at the end of summer, so it was quiet. It almost felt like a studio backlot. The town square looked like a set. It felt magical. Everyone supported us, especially considering how little money we have to make these films.
Did Tarantino let you direct him?
I love that question. The real question is whether I allowed myself to direct him. He came on because he knew he would be directed. With improvised films, directing is more about continued conversation about character and story rather than micro-managing performance. It’s thematic. He was wonderful. Curious. Collaborative. He loves actors. He loves cinema history. Being in France making something that felt inspired by Rohmer excited him.
How would you rate him as an actor?
He’s an exceptional actor. Naturally gifted. I’m proud the film gives him the opportunity to show that.
Do you think this could be the beginning of a new acting chapter for him?
Absolutely. Maybe the writing and directing were just the beginning.
You’re editing now. How much footage do you have?
About 36 hours. We got about six hours of rushes each day. The edit is like documentary filmmaking. You’re writing the screenplay again. You could give the rushes to five filmmakers and get five different films back. That’s where my voice comes through. The final film will probably be around 85–90 minutes.
Who would you like to get next? Timothée Chalamet?
I think maybe Martin Scorsese. It’s time for the directors who really want to be actors to come and improvise. Truffaut was a great actor. So many of them are frustrated actors. I love that some of them gave it a go. I’d love to do it myself at some point. I just need to be less shy about it. We love creating scenes. We love being part of the moment where the alchemy happens between people. It feels important to place ourselves as filmmakers at the heart of that. Naturally, I don’t know who will be next. I’m always surprised by who I gravitate towards. We’ll see.