Gillian Flynn Isnt Going to Write the Kind of Women You Want

“The gate is open,” read Gillian Flynns e-mail with instructions on entering her Chicago home. “Youll see a little door tucked in under the eaves . . . knock eight times and say Bloody Mary.” I couldnt deny feeling a little like one of her characters: the wary huntresses who stalk her novels.

Six years ago, when her blockbuster novel Gone Girl was published, Flynns dark and mordant voice felt audacious, thrilling. Looking back at its success, and its tables-turning, sociopathic protagonist Amy Dunne, its hard not to see the seeds of deep female rage that have come to full bloom in our current #MeToo, Times Up moment. Since that book became a phenomenon, Flynn has mostly left publishing behind for Hollywood, including adapting Gone Girl for director David Fincher and co-writing the upcoming Widows with director Steve McQueen, about four women who pick up a life of crime after their husbands are killed.

Now, Flynn has set her sights on television. July 8 marks the premiere of Sharp Objects, HBOs limited series based on Flynns 2006 debut novel. Its a prestige production, with Amy Adams starring as Camille Preaker, a troubled reporter who returns to her hometown to cover the murders of two young girls and confront her own formidable childhood demons. An executive producer, Flynn was actively involved, writing episodes and collaborating with show-runner Marti Noxon (UnREAL) and director Jean-Marc Vallée (Big Little Lies).

With its theme of female complicity—the damage women do to each other—Sharp Objects could hardly feel more timely. Id just watched the first three episodes when I met with Flynn, and its disruptive, gothic energy was still buzzing in my brain as we walked through her book-stuffed house, complete with a library that features a hidden passageway.

Vanity Fair: Lets start with Sharp Objects. You began the writers room in 2016. Were there lots of discussions about the presidential campaign—about all those gender dynamics playing out?

Gillian Flynn: It would have been a conversation, but that really hadnt started yet. But the show is so much a story about life before this new awareness, before #MeToo. Its about what happens to women when they have to swallow down their stories—and what happens to that rage. And it feels like a cautionary tale at this moment when women are finally telling their stories, but we still have a president whos a pussy-grabber. Despite a lot of brave, strong women, its still a strong current in America.

What were your priorities for the show?

I wanted to make it clear that the shows about a matriarchy. I wanted it to be clear that power can be ugly, and a matriarchy is just as ugly as a patriarchy. It may look a little different, but power is bloody.

Women run the town; women do the bad things.

And this is a story about what women can do to each other—why women are cruel to each other, why women dont reach down and help each other. As Madeleine Albright says, “Theres a special place in hell for women who dont help other women.”

But we also know the reason why: its because theres not enough space at the top. Men have always crowded out the spaces for women in every single strata of society. So theres always been that fear of reaching down and helping up, because that means the space gets more crowded and do I get bumped out?

Were you worried about the show remaining true to the violence and darkness of the novel?

Thats why it took so long to get it made, and why I didnt sell it for a long time. I wanted to make sure Camilles darkness was protected—that we do see her drink in the morning, that we do see her take those swigs for bravery, that you see her scars in all the different ways.

I also wanted to make sure no one tried to make her “save the cat.” To me, Camille is an inherently kind person despite everything thats happened to her. And you see that when you walk through the day with Camille. You see how she treats people. But shes not running around saving babies and kittens just so the audience can be sure shes a good person.

Didnt you say that watching Amy Adamss performance felt like she was coming from inside your brain?

It was a little disturbing. The first day I showed up on set, she was dressed up as Camille, and she was basically wearing the same thing I was wearing. We have a photo to prove it. I was like, I need to spiff it up a bit more.

But I knew she would go there. She was so committed to Camille. Just seeing the dailies, I started getting worried about her. Id be on set, and Id be like, “Hey, everything O.K.?” And shed just laugh and say, “Remember, Im Amy. Im sturdy. Im fine.”

She looks like someone whos been through a lot.

Camilles so wary. The way she clocks everyone when she walks in a room.

It creates this tension through everything.

Even when shes going in to get a cup of coffee, its fraught.

And adds to the gothic tone. It feels, at times, like this Tennessee Williams hothouse.

You feel like if you left your car there too long, the tendrils would take over. You cant relax there for too long because thingsll start moving over you. The vines are coming for you.

Its as dark and swampy as Big Little Lies was glossy and immaculate. And yet, because its female-centered and crime-focused, it feels like its being interpreted as its natural successor.

And thats a completely incorrect interpretation. Its a disservice both to Big Little Lies and to the show.

And to women.

And to viewers. I mean, just because it has women in it does not make it Big Little Lies—which I loved, by the way, but anyone who watches this hoping theyre going to get Big Little Lies is going to be like, What the fuck have you sold me? Jesus Christ.

I think Variety got it right when they said its not Big Little Lies—its True Detective. But instead of Matthew McConaughey waxing on about what it is to be a man, its looking at what it is to be a woman. And I hope that it doesnt turn men off, because its a great detective show.

The mystery draws you in, but youre smuggling in all these other ideas about women and power.

But, to me, theres something a little bit sad that: in 2005, to write about women and violence, and women and sexuality, and women and rage, I knew Id have to disguise it in a mystery. Otherwise, no one would read it. And here we are, 13 years later, and thats still the case.

Even right now, when so many women are talking about how angry they are.

I think theres a deep societal fear of female rage, partly because it hasnt been experienced a lot. Men—I speak in vast generalities—are often very afraid of what they dont know how to handle. And they havent had to handle female rage a lot, and they think they need to handle it.

They feel impotent.

And theyre very afraid of it, which makes them angry. They get angry with what they fear and dont understand.

But Ill tell you what concerns me: theres a lot of shushing going on. I keep doing these panel discussions where I hear women advising that we shouldnt be angry, that we shouldnt be approaching this [#MeToo moment] with anger, that we should embrace this moment with care and gentleness. And I think thats insane.

Theres a huge place for anger right now—particularly for the many, many women whove been violated—and this is a time to be angry. Lets be very angry. Constructive anger is a very useful tool, and is a very important thing to express.

Because I write about complicated women—women who have feelings of anger, aggression, and desire—theres something I hear a lot, and I bet you hear it even more: youre not a feminist if you write about women doing bad things.

I get in a lot of trouble about my women in general—and Amy [in Gone Girl] in particular. Especially about Amy pretending to be raped—people sending me statistics about how unlikely it is that a woman would do that. And I always point out that Amy is a sociopath; she killed a person and framed her husband. If Id had a good woman do that, that wouldve been weird.

But also interesting.

Yes. Why did she do that? Lets explore that.

I think some people believe novels should assert an ideology rather than live in the murk. Novels have to live in the murk. Why are women writers obligated to have all their female characters be virtuous?

Its incredibly misogynist to tell me I can only write a certain type of woman. Because thats saying women must be a certain type of person. That puts us back to the Stone Age—like women are saints and therefore not human and if we stray beyond that model, well be severely punished. It denies us any humanity.

It doesnt even bother me. It just bounces off me. Its such a ridiculous notion that my novels are misogynist because I dont write the kind of women you want.

Do you think thats changing, though?

I do. And I think were also seeing a difference in what men are watching. I think theyre less likely to stamp something as “just a womens thing” because it was written by a woman. I know so many men who are watching Killing Eve, and its written by a woman, starring two women, and has a womans name in the title. [My husband] Brett was watching it, and he said it took him about three episodes to register that hes watching a procedural and its two women detectives walking along, and its the man back in the office—

—doing the busy work. And the husband is the one at home worrying.

Hes at home saying, “I made you a stew!” And Brett said it felt so revolutionary. It just sneaks up on you, and you dont realize how subversive it is.

I want to talk about the thing youre probably most tired of talking about: the “cool-girl” speech in Gone Girl.

That was the most weirdly accidental thing—a writing exercise I did on an afternoon, just free-form. I always had a rule that you cant use that stuff in the book—its cheating—but I liked it so much Id take it out and put it back. And then it became this thing.

I have this theory about it: that it was a shot across the bow because it anticipated everything to come. Women responded to it, because you said the things we all knew but never said aloud. It was out there in the ether—

And no one had articulated it.

Yes.

I lived that so long, in my twenties.

And now were in the center of it. Because that speech is about female rage over the roles we feel we must play. Its about female complicity. Now you couldnt say it. Itd be too on the nose.

Right.

Are you worried about a #MeToo backlash?

I dont think they dare. I think this is a case when women have really come together, and supported each other, and will support each other.

I have heard, anecdotally, about people in different fields not wanting to hire women because theyre afraid of getting sued.

You do hear that. “Well, if I hire a woman, Im not going to be able to talk about this.” “Whats a writers room if we cant fuck around and say dumb stuff because shes going to come forward?”

And so does it end up being only the cool girls get hired?

Exactly. Give them the cool-girl quiz. See if they pass.

Oh, god. We all have be cool girls again. Jesus Christ.

Youre the creator, executive producer, and show-runner on Utopia, your upcoming show with Amazon. Are you thinking about these issues differently, now that youre in a position to hire writers, to tell particular kinds of stories?

Weve been trying to hire women writers, hire women directors. And I guess the good news is weve had some trouble.

Because of sudden demand?

[nods] Its a good time to be a talented female director or writer. But the real test is to make that a consistent reality—not just a trend or the cool thing to do—to make sure that, two years from now, its still the case.

After Utopia, do you have any place youd rather land your foot next? TV, film—or books?

Im ready to go back to books. Im ready to finish this novel Im working on.

I heard you say in an interview that you wrote the “greatest fucking first page ever written.” That made me cheer out loud. Women arent supposed to say stuff like that.

[smiles] I do love that first page.

Do you feel some kind of responsibility now to tell only female-centered stories?

Utopia is a conspiracy thriller, so it feels different. I cant just do that dark female narrator every time.

Creatively, it was time for a change.

And it feels nice to do a big ensemble piece with a lot of characters . . . doing bad things.

Men and women.

Exactly. Spread the wealth a little.

On our way out, we pass a series of glorious movie posters from Hollywoods Golden Age, including a particularly stunning one for Sam Peckinpahs 1972 crime movie, The Getaway. “The other Steve McQueen,” I say, looking up at the image of its star, the classic American loner hero.

Flynn smiles, and looks at me like shes about to tell me a secret.

“To me,” she says, “Sharp Objects is a Western. The gunslinger goes back to his town to discover its been taken over by the bad guys. And shes gotta get rid of all the bad stuff. The gunslinger whos arrived to fix everything.”

I nod, looking up at McQueen again and then back at Flynn.

“Shes gotta clean up the town,” Flynn says, definitively. “Shes gotta make things right.”

Megan Abbott is the author of nine crime novels. Her latest, Give Me Your Hand, will be published July 17. Shes currently producing a pilot based on her novel Dare Me for the USA Network.

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