Once again, Korine creates a world of oddballs and eccentrics, intent on carving lives out for themselves in order to live out their dreams in a volatile world. While the film is not autobiographical by any stretch, its themes are intensely personal. Korine recently sat down with PLANET° at a New York City coffee shop to share some stories about Mister Lonely and other assorted tidbits from his equally unpredictable life.

Eight years have passed between Julien Donkey-Boy and Mister Lonely. Was this a choice, or something imposed on you? At a certain point, I felt so unhappy about where I was and who was around me. I was disconnected. A lot of people were trying to pick my pocket, you know? I just couldn’t figure out what I was doing, so to say I made a conscious decision to quit making movies is almost giving myself too much credit. It was strange because, when I was a kid, all I ever wanted to do was be a film director. By the time I got to be one, all I wanted was to quit making films. I just left the whole thing and tried a different kind of life that had nothing to do with the industry. Where did you go? I was really ill-equipped for what happened. I had a couple of houses, and they all burned down. Some people in London and France put me up for a little while, and then I stayed with my parents in the jungles of Panama. Then I went to Nashville. Why were your parents living in Panama? They just wanted to leave America. I don’t think they were enjoying it, so they built a house by the ocean. When I stayed there, I found this cult of fishermen called the Malingerers. They were looking for this fish called the Malingerer and showed me a photograph from the previous century. It had three dots on the side of its gills, which made it look like a toy piano. I was enamored and intrigued by them, so I spent five or six months hanging out until I found out that they were being offered a million dollars in reward money from the Japanese [for this fish], which freaked me out. Was that an enjoyable experience for you? Yeah. I love writing because you don’t have people in your face trying to fuck with you.