This Haim is a rock 'n' roll bassist, a highly visible New York Knicks fan, and, as of last New Year's Eve, the happily married wife of a blockchain entrepreneur named Jonathan Levin. But what she is first and foremost, she says, is a sister, one of three, along with her younger siblings Danielle and Alana, in the beloved Los Angeles rock band Haim.
So when Este, 40, saw an early version of “Voicemails for Isabelle,” a new Netflix film premiering Friday with music by Haim and composer Amanda Yamate, I thought: How am I going to top this? remembers the musician.
Written and directed by Leah McKendrick, “Voicemails” stars Zoey Deutch as a San Francisco chef who just lost her sister to cancer; The film's meet-cute romance (if that's the term) comes when Deutch's character begins leaving heartbreaking messages for her late sister on the phone number that now belongs to a handsome real estate agent played by Nick Robinson.
“I love my sisters so much that the thought that something could happen to them breaks me,” Haim says. “I don't think I can recover.”
Despite the film's bleak premise, “Voicemails” has a warm, witty tone that evokes the classic romantic comedies of Nora Ephron and Nancy Meyers. “My mantra for the entire movie, for each of my departments, was: Let's make this better than it needs to be,” McKendrick says with a laugh. (In fact, “Voicemails” begins with an epic needle drop on Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own.”) Yamate, who previously teamed with Haim to score 2023's “You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah,” says the two musicians thought their score was to “highlight that delicate, fragile sisterly love” that underpins the film.
Haim talked about her work as a film composer and the future of her band (the trio's fourth LP, the Grammy-nominated “I Quit,” came out last year) over coffee on a recent morning at Netflix headquarters in Hollywood.
Did you know before accepting the job that this film would open with one of the best pop songs of the year? Ilast 25 years?
I did.
Really setting the bar high.
When it comes to music, I'm fearless. Everything else, I'm terrified. I've been a huge Robyn fan for most of my life; she is kind of the north star for my sisters and me. It's no secret that we love sad dance songs.
Did his music shape your and Amanda's ideas about the score?
We listened to Robyn a lot, trying to get into the soundscape. But we also heard a lot of acoustic things. We tried everything; In reality, we never say no.
Many strings in music.
It was a dream come true to be able to hire an orchestra and record in the Village [Studios] – in the “Tusk” room with that echo chamber.
Do you play bass in your film's music?
Of course. But I don't write in bass; I need to hear the harmony and the chords. Then I let my strange flag fly.
Wait, does this sheet music have some sick bass lines?
You know, there were a couple of signs that I didn't end up getting used to when I actually went to town. Maybe they didn't get used to it for that reason.
In addition to “Dancing on My Own,” the film features two of your friend's old songs. Taylor Swift.
The good thing about Taylor is that my girl knows how to write a song. She's a poet and I think she really understands childhood (the longing and desire to be accepted) and she does it in such a beautiful, majestic way.
Alana Haim, from left, Este Haim, Taylor Swift and Mariska Hargitay during Game 4 of this month's NBA Finals at Madison Square Garden in New York.
(Al Bello/Getty Images)
What's it like to go from playing in a band with possibly three vocalists to working on a film where your job is to help carry out someone else's vision?
It's very similar to what it's like to be in Haim, because while there are, as you say, three figureheads (which, great, they love), we're also a democracy. And my ideas don't fly all the time. Alana's ideas don't fly all the time. Danielle's ideas don't fly all the time. From the moment we started writing songs together, the three of us learned that you're not always going to win. We wouldn't have gotten past the first album if it weren't like that; We would have killed each other.
Why score a film in the first place?
I fell into it accidentally. But I always knew I was fascinated by punctuation, especially thanks to Ludwig Göransson. When we were doing the “Forever” EP with him, he was writing “Community.” We'd get to the studio late at night when he'd finish doing that, but then he'd get notes and we'd have to stop the session, and I'd see him composing live in front of me, taking instruments off the wall, playing a little song.
Who are your film and music GOATs?
Ludi is one. Johnny Greenwood. Trent Reznor. I think all of my favorite composers were musicians before they were composers.
There are a lot of you in Hollywood right now.
I mean, Trent Reznor: his music is already very cinematic. Same with Radiohead. “Leave music (for a movie)”? I don't know if Haim's music is necessarily cinematic, but I know that my sisters and I grew up loving movies. If it weren't for “Stop Making Sense,” maybe I wouldn't be a bassist.
Tina Weymouth.
Tub! Danielle and I started playing guitar at the same time, and my dad said, “Okay, I see what's happening. Danielle plays the guitar better than Este. Este is sad, Este is depressed. What can we do here?” Then he thought: Well, if the guitar has six strings and the bass has four, the bass must be easier. I was wrong, that is 100% false. But he brought it to me and said, “Why don't you play the bass?” I said, “I don't want to do that; I don't even know what it looks like.” Then my dad went to Blockbuster, heard “Stop Making Sense,” and said, “Just look.” I was 8 or 9 at the time and obsessed with Princess Peach. I looked at Tina: she was blonde, she was having a great time, she looked like a princess. It was: I see it, now I can be it.
On the question of whether Haim's music is cinematic, I'm not sure I would say yes, like Radiohead or Nine Inch Nails do. But when the three came up with the concept of a music video, it seems like no other music could have accompanied it.
I'll stick with that.
Walking side by side down Ventura Boulevard in the “Want You Back” video, for example.
Let me tell you: that video was going to be very different. We weren't going to walk, it was going to be us in a slow moving car. But on the day of filming, there was a cookie platform in the car, and the gentleman working on the cookie platform did a test and lost control of the car. My man was doing donuts on Ventura Boulevard, and you know Ventura Boulevard: there's a little curve there. I don't think he took that into account and unfortunately he ended up crashing into a parking meter, thus destroying our idea of being in a slow car.
I always wondered what time you recorded that video.
We had that stretch of Ventura from 2am to 6am. The Crave Café was open.
Can you imagine you are in there?
Can I imagine? I lived it. There were literally people sitting outside the cafe saying, “Go home.” They had heard the song; I mean, we did 25 or 30 takes.
I find it funny that Haim's signature walk was an inadvertent invention.
I know, we are big walkers now. It became a bit of a joke, but we're good at doing two things at once: we can walk and sing at the same time.
You are composing films and Alana has been acting. When you and your sisters were kids, how tactile did the film industry feel?
I went to Dixie Canyon Elementary [in Sherman Oaks]and many of the kids in my class had been shot in the head. That wasn't cheap and my family couldn't afford it. But in Dixie Canyon there was a choir teacher, do you know anything about this? The Dixie Canyon choir teacher in the '90s?
Put it on me.
His name was George Wyle and he wrote “It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” and the song “Gilligan's Island.” He was retired and didn't need to make money, and he just had the biggest heart: He volunteered Monday and Friday every week to be a pianist in Dixie, and he basically taught me how to sing. He told me stories about going to the Oscars in the '50s; that was the closest I got to Hollywood. Everything else seemed a little untouchable. I mean, I knew one of the Porcaros lived in Valley Village.
From Toto.
But I just knew they lived there; I never met them until I got to Valley College, and then I was in a class with one of their sons.
I love Toto.
Love Toto.
A couple more for you. You turned 40 in March.
I like to think I'm getting better with age. I got married too.
Yes, congratulations.
It's amazing, I love it more than anything. I waited quite a while to find the right one, and I'm proud I did. It's the most important decision of your life, right? Not just the person but also, do I even want to get married?
Do you watch movies?
Johnny falls asleep within five minutes. But I just curl up and watch with him. He loves James Bond movies. And “The Italian Job”: he loves that movie. He loves robberies.
What theaters do you like?
I love Ojai Playhouse; We got married in Ojai. I love the View. The new Beverly that I love. I wish the [Cinerama] The dome was open; needs to open.
Your Instagram name is still Jizzie McGuire.
I will never change.
Is that true? You're 70, 80, 90…
Jizzie, Jizzie, Jizzie.
Who tells you: “Bro, you have to change it”?
You are the first.
I'm not saying you should; just wondering if anyone else is.
Jizzie still lives inside me. Johnny didn't even mention it to me. It's almost like the weirder I am, the more he loves me.
That's how you know you have a keeper.
And I have tried. I say, “Really, do you think that is nice?”
Is there anything cooking with Haim at the moment?
You know, I got married and I think the focus of our lives has always been music, it always will be music, but I also want to focus on doing things in life. Writing with my sisters, we've been in a band together since I was 8, which means Alana was 2. So I don't really know any different. But I think, okay, maybe now is the time I can immerse myself in doing things that have nothing to do with music, like being a wife. We've worked really hard to get where we are and I think now we just want to enjoy our lives while still being creative.
So: LP5 in 2032.
You never know: it could be this year, it could be next year. We make plans, God laughs, right?
