Morgan Freeman Interview: THE BUCKET LIST, GONE BABY GONE, Jack, and a whole lot more!

Morgan Freeman (w/Jack Nicholson) in The Bucket List.

MORGAN FREEMAN: HOLLYWOOD’S WORTHY SAGE
By Alex Simon

If Orson Welles was everyone’s idea of the voice of God during his life, Morgan Freeman has most likely assumed that mantle for the next generation of filmgoers. With his stentorian voice and Zen-like presence, Morgan Freeman has appeared in nearly 80 films and TV productions, since making his debut in a bit part in Sidney Lumet’s classic The Pawnbroker, in 1964.

Since then, Morgan has won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor (for Clint Eastwood’s Million Dollar Baby), along with another 32 award wins and 27 nominations. 2007 has proven to be a banner year for an actor who just seems to be getting busier, and better, with each passing year. After beginning the year playing (appropriately) God in the comedy Evan Almighty, he has also appeared in Ben Affleck’s critically-acclaimed directing debut Gone Baby Gone, Robert Benton’s Feast of Love, and Rob Reiner’s The Bucket List, in which he co-stars with another American treasure, Jack Nicholson. The two play terminally-ill men who write up their “bucket lists,” a list of things they want to do before they kick the bucket.

Mr. Freeman sat down recently with us over breakfast at The Four Seasons, dispensing equal parts, humor, truth and wisdom. Here’s what transpired:

I just saw Gone Baby Gone last night…

Morgan Freeman: It’s surprising to me that that movie is doing as well as it is.

Why?

I just didn’t expect it: little movie, terrific performances. It was a solid script. The story’s different, very different story. I really think if you give people something different, off the beaten path, they’ll want to hear what you have to say. And I think this is a case in point.

I really like the fact that Ben Affleck had the courage to be so bleak.

Yeah. Again, that’s what made it so different from most of what’s out there right now.

I got the feeling he watched a lot of movies from the ‘70s before shooting it. It had that gritty, neo-realist feel that so many of the great films from that era had.

I don’t know if he watched a lot of those films, or if that’s just his sensibility. I’m not contradicting what you’re saying, but we didn’t really discuss that. It would be interesting to ask him if he’d done a lot of boning up beforehand. But it was a great choice. And Amy Ryan, who played the girl’s mother, boy, was she outstanding.

She was so convincing that at first, I thought she was a local that Ben Affleck had discovered.

No, she was so believable. Just amazing. It will be interesting to see what Ben comes up with next.

Working with Ben, was it a different experience working with a director who’s also an actor?

It’s different, but everybody is different. Everybody has their own approach to things. You want to think that because an actor is now directing that their approach would now be more “on your side,” so to speak. I’m more of a hands-off person and Ben is very hands-on. But the proof is in the pudding, no matter what.

Well, it had an amazing cast of actors. And for Casey Affleck, this is really his breakout year.

Well, I just watched The Assassination of Jesse James, and was just blown away.

I thought that was maybe the best movie of the year.

Yeah, in fact, I had to keep rewinding it and watching it over because I felt I was missing things, it was so rich.

Didn’t it remind you of early Terrence Malick, or Robert Altman’s McCabe & Mrs. Miller, the way it just sort of washed over you?

Yes, very much. Casey was great, and I thought Brad (Pitt) did a great job. Just kept it very low.
I loved how everyone just looked so grimy, and had bad teeth. They all looked like they hadn’t washed in a few weeks, and you’d guess that life was like that back then.

Yeah, everything, down to the tiniest detail was right there.

Whereas in the old movies, like Henry King’s film Jesse James, Tyrone Power had perfect teeth and it looked like all his shirts had creases in them from the dry cleaners!

(laughs) Yeah, guys slept in their clothes all winter, out in fields…

Maybe once a month had a bath.

Maybe. If there was a woman somewhere. (laughs) Although if you don’t sweat much, you’re not going to smell bad, but you do shed skin every day.

I know that all my friends who’ve been in the service say it gets pretty ripe out in the field if you’re in close quarters with your boys.

Yeah, it’s not like a gym. I remember when I was first in the service, they’d drop you out in the middle of nowhere during basic training, and force you to get down in the mud and crawl around. It was nasty.

Where’d you do your basic?

Outside of San Antonio. Long time ago…(laughs)

You got to work with one of my heroes this year, Robert Benton, in Feast of Love.

Sweet man. Now there’s a guy who’s been in this business for a long time. He’s as quiet as can be. Quiet. And that’s how he directs. Just quiet. If he wants you to shift your performance slightly in this direction or that direction, that’s what he’ll ask you to do: “I want you to try something in this direction. See what happens…” Smart man. Uses a very unusual paint brush. I loved him. Loved working with him.

Well, if you look at his filmography, it says it all. He started out writing Bonnie & Clyde, for God’s sake.

Bob wrote Bonnie & Clyde?

Yeah, with David Newman. He started as a screenwriter.

I didn’t know that. I also didn’t know Jack Nicholson was a screenwriter.

Sure. Got started with Roger Corman in the ‘60s.

All these things go by me…(laughs)

He actually directed a really interesting picture in the early ‘70s called Drive He Said, about college basketball players and student radicals.

Yeah, I remember the title.

Bruce Dern played the coach and Robert Towne played a professor. Towne was a hell of a good actor, actually.

Well, acting is not all that difficult to do if you’ve got some modicum of intelligence. If you’ve got that, it’s fairly easy.

Let’s get back to Feast of Love. It was a very sweet movie.

Yeah it was, although I read a review from somebody who called it “saccharine.”

I thought it maybe treaded the line, but never crossed it.

I didn’t think so, either. When I saw it, I kept watching it to see Bob’s hand in it, just to see how the picture came together. I thought he did a really wonderful job.

You can tell it was made by a mature filmmaker, because you don’t notice he’s there.

Thank you! Please don’t show yourself.

Right, keep the camera still, get your actors in the frame, in focus, and shoot. The Clint Eastwood approach.

(laughs) Right! Right. I love Clint for that. He’s one of my favorites of all the directors I’ve worked with. He knows what he wants. He arrives prepared, and he leaves prepared. When he’s got what he wants, he’s gone. I love that. I’ve worked with him now twice, and am gearing up to work with him again on a story about Nelson Mandela, The Human Factor. It’s about a moment in his life during the 1995 World Cup championships in South Africa. It was early in his Presidency, and a very clarifying moment in South African history, when they really felt like they were going to make it, when it all looked like it was coming together. We have this terrific script, written from this guy's terrific book.

Have you met Mandela?

Oh, many times.

What were your impressions?

I can’t tell you anything you don’t know about him. His life is pretty much an open book, but he’s…have you ever met Bill Clinton?

Yes, briefly.

He’s like that. When he’s in your presence, you’re in his presence. When he’s talking to you, he’s talking only to you. It’s completely disarming. When I first met him, I was meeting him as the ex-President of a country. And I’d never met the leader of a country before, except for Bill Clinton and George H. W. Bush. I didn’t clam up on him, because you don’t want to be in that position and have nothing to say—even when the fact is you don’t know what to say sometimes, unless you’ve got a bone to pick!

Or you meet the person, and they have nothing to say.

Right, and I prefer to be with people who have something to say, which makes it easier for you to have something to say. I met the Imam, the sheik of Dubai. He’s a fascinating guy. He’s the leader of this state, not a country, because the United Arab Emirates are what comprise the country. Dubai is one of seven states in the Emirates. He’s got the idea that you have to build, build, build because eventually, the oil is going to run out. If the oil doesn’t run out, the price is going to go down so low eventually, that it might as well run out. I’m talking wishful thinking now, that eventually this country’s leaders are going to understand that it isn’t about money. It’s about sustainability. Right now, if you mention alternative forms of energy to anyone in the government, all they’ll want to talk about is what it will cost, which is stupid. It’s going to cost you more to establish it, than it’s going to cost you to run it. But we have to do it. Of course right now there are a lot of politicians who are in, or come from, the oil business, and the unions, and so on. So if you ask the oil industry and the auto industry to start re-cranking, and come up with a car that gets 40 miles to the gallon, or that will burn something other than oil and gasoline, you’ll get an argument about what it will cost to develop that. If you have a car that can run on E-85, which is 85% ethanol and 15% gasoline, do you know what the savings is on that in terms of using fossil fuels?

I can only imagine.

Just one day, one day, just look up in any major city in the world, and just look at the cars. Don’t think about the airplanes, or the trains, the boats, just the cars, running up and down the road, burning gasoline and diesel fuels. With biodiesel, you can make diesel fuel out of bacon grease, for God’s sake! So why aren’t we doing that? They say “the cost.” It’s got nothing to do with the cost. It’s “the cost” that’s going to kill us.

And they neglect to take the most expensive factor in that equation, which is the human factor, which is a more expensive factor than money.

And we say “they,” and that’s a vague term just in the process of talking about it. And I prefer to use the word “we,” really.

Sure. Who puts the politicians in office?

Right. We do.

The question is, why do we put the politicians in office? Where do our priorities lie?

Oh my God! Exactly.

And why do they run for office to begin with?

I know why you run for office. In politics, there is the come-on of making a change, getting things done. Unless you’re in politics, you don’t realize that you don’t get to go in and change things, and get things done. You go in and you play the game.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.

Right. Do you want to get something done? Why did your people vote you in? It ain’t about anything but money, on some level or other. What about something like health care? I’ll tell you what the response will be to questions about health care: numbers, numbers, numbers. You want to talk about the big political issue here? Let’s talk about children’s health care. Which children do you think we’re talking about here?

Poor people. Black people, brown people, recent immigrants.

Right, now let’s look at the numbers again.

Let’s talk about Hurricane Katrina.

Yes, let’s.

But you know what Katrina taught me? I think that racism, as we knew it in the ‘60s, is not the driving force behind discrimination anymore. Now it’s based on class.

Yes, been that way for years, since the early ‘80s.

Right. Most of the folks on the Gulf Coast that got hit, were poor whites. And they were treated as badly as the mostly-black population of the lower ninth ward in New Orleans. It said so much.

Right, we’ve got to stop talking about race. It’s not race. It’s money.

I don’t know that this country has ever cared about poor people. I don’t mean certain leaders haven’t cared, I mean we as a country have never truly cared about those who have less than we do.

No, for the simple reason that the country is pretty much based on the freedom to pursue your dreams. In India, if you’re born into a certain caste, that’s where you stay. Great Britain, same thing. Not here.

No. Here you can buy your way out.

Here you can buy your way out. You can come up with an idea that will allow you to become a king.

Well, look at you. You grew up poor, right?

Yeah, but let’s redefine “poor.” I think there are two kinds: there is a certain level of poverty where people tell their young: “This is where you are. This is where you are always going to be.” That’s a poverty of the mind, a poverty of the spirit. Then there’s another kind of poverty where you just don’t have a lot of money, but there’s a belief system in place. And in this country, it can work very well. We’ve tried to shut it down among the Mexican immigrants. That’s why they’re here. They view this as the place where you can transcend your position in life. I don’t think the country is ever really going to become socialist, however.

Of course not. This country is built on the bedrock of capitalism. For capitalism to exist, there has to be an underclass.

There must be. Right.

It will never change.

Not in our lifetime, anyway.

No, I mean it will never change.

Well, if it does change, we won’t be who we are.

It’s a free market economy. It’s not right. It’s not wrong. It just is.

Yeah, and it’s proven pretty much that it works.

When you mentioned that first kind of poverty, that’s what Gone Baby Gone was about, really.

Yeah, it’s a mind set. I say that as long as the Greyhound bus is in business, this is the best place in the world to be. “I’m never going to make it anywhere else. I can’t leave this little town.” Bullshit. You can leave this little town. But what life requires in a lot of cases, and particularly in this country, is courage. Get on the bus, Gus.

As always, we digress.

Yes, we do.

Let’s talk about The Bucket List.

Here was a situation where Morgan sort of gets to call the shots. It’s happened before in movies, and it’s such a thrill. I get a call from Rob Reiner about this story, which I’d read before. It was different before, and I’d turned it down. So Rob sends it to me and I read it, called him back and I really liked it, and loved the idea of being able to work with Rob. So I said I’d do it, but that I had someone in mind to play the other part: Jack Nicholson. So he said “Okay, we’ll get Jack.” Jack said “yes.” Rob told me that when Jack was approached to do it, Jack said “I’ll do it, but only if we can get Morgan Freeman for the other part.” (laughs) Jack, you see, was on my bucket list.

Ah, so you had your own drawn up.

You always do.

How’s your list coming? How far down are you?

Way down. Way down. There are still a few things…my dreams all come true. I wish for it, it seems to happen. I learned this years ago: if you want it, you’ll get it.

I’ve prayed at the temple of Jack Nicholson since I was eleven years-old and saw Cuckoo’s Nest for the first time. He’s one of my all-time heroes. Tell me about Jack.

Yeah, I’ve been a fan since Easy Rider, but the one that really did it for me was Five Easy Pieces. Oh, what a movie! He just knocked my socks off. So then I was like you, praying at the temple of Jack ever since. Then I had a chance to ride with him on the Warner Bros. plane with Clint, it must have been during Unforgiven. We were coming back to L.A. and he was hitching a ride. I got to jawing what a fan I was, and as actors will do, he expressed how he liked my work. Then we started talking about how if we ever get the chance…Then we started talking about not a remake, but a sequel, to The Last Detail, that would show those two sailors now, taking the same guy back to prison. But that didn’t pan out.

Would you say that you and Jack have a similar process?

Yeah: hit your mark, don’t bump into the furniture. (laughs)

James Cagney school of acting.

Spencer Tracy.

Fair enough.

Spencer was one of my idols as a kid. Spence, Bogie, Cagney, Robinson, Cooper. Loved Gary Cooper.

They were all less-is-more guys.

Mm-hmm.

It looked like you and Jack were having a lot of fun together.

I was literally wallowing in a dream come true! You don’t want to bore your fellow actor by saying ‘I’m so thrilled to be here with you.’ But every day, I wanted to say ‘Jack, I am so fucking thrilled…!’ (laughs)

What are some of the other things on your bucket list that you haven’t done yet?

I have a film company, called Revelations Entertainment, and a great partner who works her brains out there. I have put on my refrigerator door, a note that reads: “Academy Award nomination or award for Best Picture.” I don’t care if I ever win Best Actor, but Best Picture…there are so many great stories out there to tell.

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Jerry Bruckheimer: The Hollywood Interview

Producer Jerry Bruckheimer.


JERRY BRUCKHEIMER: KING OF THE BIG-TOP
By
Alex Simon

Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in the June 2001 issue of Venice Magazine.

You don't hear the word "impresario" used much in the 21st century vernacular. If you don't know it's meaning, Webster's defines impresario as "one who puts on or sponsors an entertainment (as a television show or sports event)." Dry, dictionary-style definitions aside, impresario brings to mind those colorful characters of yesteryear. The Buffalo Bill Codys, the Flo Zigfelds, the Cecil B. DeMilles: larger-than-life characters whose moniker conjured up images of bigger-than-life entertainment spectacles. If Jerry Bruckheimer seems too low-key a guy to join the aforementioned rogues gallery, grab your magnifying glass and look closer, Sherlock.

Born the only child of German-Jewish immigrants in 1945, the Detroit, Michigan native attended University of Arizona, seeking out an arid climate to battle chronic asthma which he'd suffered since childhood. After earning a degree in psychology, Bruckheimer returned to Detroit to work in the advertising trade. After producing an award-winning Pontiac television ad, a take-off on then-current hit movie Bonnie and Clyde (1967), Bruckheimer's pinache caught the eye of renowned ad agency BBD & O, which lured him to Madison Avenue. It was during his four year stint with the prestigious agency that Bruckheimer met photographer, and aspiring filmmaker, Dick Richards. Bruckheimer, not yet 30, left BBD & O to produce three films for Richards: the gritty western The Culpepper Cattle Company (on which he was associate producer, 1972), the Philip Marlowe film noir Farewell My Lovely (1975), and the French Foreign Legion adventure March or Die (1977).

It was during the 1980's, however, that Bruckheimer truly found his place: as a producer of slick, big-budget, highly-commercial stories with pulsating rock music soundtracks, populated by a cast of beautiful up-and-comers. American Gigolo (1980), which made Richard Gere a household name, was the first of the decade, followed in rapid succession by Michael Mann's feature debut Thief (1981), and Paul Schrader's sexy remake of Cat People (1982).

It was with Flashdance, in 1983, that Bruckheimer formed a business partnership that would change his life, and the Hollywood landscape, forever, joining forces with Don Simpson to produce one of the biggest hits that year, not to mention one of the most influential films to American pop culture. Don Simpson was a larger-than-life force who seemed to consume the world and all it had to offer with the gusto of a starving child. His in-your-face approach to life sharply contrasted Bruckheimer's low-key, poker-faced, all-business style, forming the perfect balance between the extreme and the subdued. The Simpson-Bruckheimer logo on a film soon became a brand-name of its own, promising a bigger, louder, splashier moviegoing experience for all who came, turning the young producers into a sort of cinematic Barnum and Bailey. The suburban multiplex was their big top. And they were the undisputed kings. Just a few of their other titles include: Beverly Hills Cop (1984) and its sequel Cop II (1987), Top Gun (1986), Days of Thunder (1990), his first project with director Michael Bay Bad Boys (1995), Crimson Tide (1995), Dangerous Minds (1995), and The Rock (1996). It was during production on The Rock that Simpson died suddenly, leaving Bruckheimer to carry on their tradition of blockbusters. In the annals of show biz, only Paul McCartney has fared as well as a solo act. Jerry Bruckheimer Films went on to produce Con Air (1997), Armageddon (1998), Enemy of the State (1998), Gone in 60 Seconds (2000), and Remember the Titans (2000). To date, Bruckheimer's films have earned over $3.8 billion in box office, video and recording receipts, more than any other producer in history.

Bruckheimer's latest is (surprise) the biggest, most anticipated blockbuster of the summer. Pearl Harbor marks Bruckheimer's fourth collaboration with director Michael Bay, telling the epic story of the infamous Japanese bombing raid that kick-started America's involvement in the second World War. An all-star cast of heartthrobs (Ben Affleck, Kate Beckinsale, Cuba Gooding, Jr.), newcomers (Josh Hartnett, James King) and old pros (Jon Voight, Colm Feore, Mako) guide this epic during its three hour running time. The 40 minute sequence which re-creates the bombing itself might be the most spectacular movie spectacle ever filmed. See it on the biggest screen, equipped with the best sound system you can find. This is not a movie to wait for on video and DVD! The Disney release is currently playing nationwide.

Jerry Bruckheimer's Santa Monica offices say a lot about the man. Located on a small side-street in an unobtrusive part of the city, the red brick building with the unassuming facade houses an interior that resembles something out of Architectural Digest, its walls decorated with pop art canvases, and offices decorated with modern furniture, that look as if they were plucked directly from the Museum of Modern Art. Appropriate digs for a guy who walks softly, and carries one of the biggest sticks in the business.

Pearl Harbor must've been a real challenge for a producer logistically, since it has more big set pieces than any film in recent memory.
Jerry Bruckheimer: It was very difficult initially to get (Disney) behind it. Originally, when Joe Roth was running the studio, he was all for it. Once we finally got it to the number that he wanted to spend, Joe Roth was out and we had to pull the plug, and start all over again. We had to pull more money out of the budget. Michael Bay quit a bunch of times. The whole process was on-again, off-again for six or eight months 'til we finally got the go-ahead.

Was it difficult finding enough period aircraft?
It was. We were able to locate 14 of the real planes. One guy found one in the Philippines that was at the bottom of the ocean. He fished it out, got the original plans from Japan that were written in this ancient Japanese dialect. It was on microfilm because the Japanese had destroyed all their original plans. He restored it like new using those as his reference.

You also shot in a variety of locations: California, Hawaii, Mexico to name a few.
We were in England and Corpus Cristi, Texas as well. All the stuff in Baja, Mexico was stuff we shot in the tank that was built for Titanic. Most of the stuff with people going into the water and the U.S.S. Oklahoma rolling over. We were down in Baja for ten days.

How many days did you shoot total?
I think it was close to 100, amazingly fast for a film of this size.

Your cast is a combination of new faces, established actors and old veterans. You've always had a knack for finding new talent. Tell us about James King, for starters, who's a new face.
Michael saw her in a magazine and thought she was really interesting, loved her personality, her beauty, and she got the part. She really radiates a kind of youthful innocence that you don't see much anymore, more like the young women of (the early 1940's).

Josh Hartnett has an interesting quality, too. A lot of people think he has an uncanny resemblance to Tommy Lee Jones.
I see him more as a Gary Cooper type, a throwback, with a little Montgomery Clift thrown in.

I thought it was interesting that you decided to use the old three strip Technicolor process, which hasn't been used in decades, in some of the release prints.
Yeah, that was Michael's idea. He wanted to evoke that bygone look that movies used to have.

This is your fourth film with Michael Bay. Tell us how you originally connected with him.
We needed to do a video for Days of Thunder and we didn't have any money, so we called a commercial production house that had the best directors. And I said "Who do you have that's on the way up, a new star?" They sent us three or four reels and one stood out, that was Michael's. When it came time for Bad Boys, I asked for his reel again, and it was amazing. It's been an amazing collaboration. Each picture he does grosses double or triple from the previous one.

Like the other directors you've worked with, Dick Richards, Paul Schrader, Michael Mann, Adrian Lynne, Bay has an amazing visual eye, which is obviously important to you.
I think interesting visuals separates what we do from most other films. When a director has a unique take, a unique vision, that's what makes a unique, memorable film, and that's what I've always looked for in the directors that I like to work with: is their work interesting? Is it different? Is it unique? The image has always been important to me. When I was six years old, my uncle gave me his old camera and I fell in love with photography. I did it for years, then eventually gave it up when I just didn't have time for it anymore. Recently, I picked up the camera again, and shot lots of stills on the Pearl Harbor set, many of which are in the book on the film's production.

Pearl Harbor didn't feel like an "effects movie" which really added to its impact.
As an example, Armageddon had 400 visual effects shots. Pearl Harbor has 150. We always wanted to keep as much of it real as we could, so it stayed a "period" picture, as opposed to a film with a more modern feel.

How long did it take to shoot the entire bombing sequence?
That was all part of the Hawaii stuff and we were over there about six weeks.

Did the Navy and Army give you full cooperation in shooting at Pearl Harbor?
Yeah, we went to the Pentagon and met with the Secretary of Defense, who was a supporter of ours, and that kind of had a trickle down effect. I think it's the biggest joint operation they've ever done (for a Hollywood movie).

When you produce a picture how much of a voice do you have in the actual filmmaking process?
I get involved in the casting. I get involved in the screenplay. I get involved in the music, and the promotion. When it comes to filming it, I leave that to the director.

You were born and raised in Detroit.
Yeah, my parents were both born in Germany. My dad was a salesman who sold mostly clothes, never made more than about $140 a week. We were lower middle class. I was an only child. My mom's still here. She came out for the premiere, which was exciting for her.

When did you fall in love with movies?
Oh yeah, I was an avid moviegoer. I had no idea what I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to be part of it somehow.

Was there one movie that really did it for you?
Probably The Great Escape (1963). I said 'I wanna be Steve McQueen. I want to ride that bike!' (laughs)

From Detroit, you went to University of Arizona.
Yeah, I couldn't get into a lot of other schools, didn't want to go to school at home, and I wanted a warm climate for my asthma. I started at Arizona State, which I attended for a year. It was very much a city school, then, the campus was just deserted on the weekends, so I transferred to U of A the following year, which had a lot more out of state students. I majored in psychology, with an algebra minor. Psych teaches you communication skills and how to sell your point of view, which has been very helpful to me. U of A was great. I'd never experienced weather like that before. In Michigan it was always six below (zero).

From there you went back to Detroit and got into advertising.
Yeah. I started out in the mailroom, then got promoted to tracker for television, then an assistant producer, and from there to BBD & O in New York.

It was there that you met Dick Richards and your film career began.
Yeah, he hired me as associate producer on The Culpepper Cattle Company. It was tough. I was a new kid in Hollywood and I was this interloper, but we struggled and got it done. I worked with him on two more films, then went out on my own.

Your first film as a producer was a period piece, Farewell My Lovely, which has a strong cult following. What was that like?
That was a great experience. Robert Mitchum was...a lot of fun. (laughs) A nice guy, but real complicated. A character.

All of your films have made money, if not been outright blockbusters. What is it about a particular story that attracts you?
Do I want to go see it? That simple.

How did you meet Don Simpson?
My ex-wife was working at Warner Bros. for Don's best friend. We went to a screening of The Harder They Come (1973) and my then-wife introduced us after we came out of the theater. Then when I got divorced, he had this big house in Laurel Canyon with lots of bedrooms. One of his roommates had just moved out, and he invited me to take his place. We became roommates and he borrowed my only sportcoat to attend his first meeting at Paramount, where he eventually became head of production.

From everything I've read, it sounds like you guys were complete opposites and that's why you complimented each other so well.
Don was very funny, bombastic. He would've entertained you through this whole conversation. He had a great sense of humor. He could talk about himself for hours. Once you got him going, there was no stopping him. Whereas I'm much more laid back, even-keeled. Don was always up and down. Don understood the studio politics and all the things that people like Michael Eisner were saying in subtext, things which I didn't have a clue about. He'd report to me afterward, like a translator: "This is what was said."

What was it like suddenly being on your own again?
Very tough. One minute you have your best friend sitting next to you, bouncing ideas off him, then all of the sudden he's gone, and you're on your own.

What advice would you have for a first-time or aspiring producer?
Get on the floor, start working. Get any job you can, just to get in the door. Once you get in the door, if you're good, you'll move up so fast, you won't know what hit you.

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Gus Van Sant: The Hollywood Interview

Filmmaker Gus Van Sant.


GUS VAN SANT: GOOD WILL HUNTER
By
Alex Simon

Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in the December 1997/January 1998 issue of Venice Magazine.

Gus Van Sant has long been recognized as one of America's most audacious and original filmmakers. Born Gus Van Sant, Jr. in Louisville, Kentucky in 1953, Van Sant graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design, soon after traveling to Los Angeles where he landed a job as an assistant to director Ken Shaprio (The Groove Tube). Van Sant debuted as a director in 1985 with Mala Noche, the story of an ill-fated love affair between a homosexual clerk and a migrant worker. The work established him as an original voice and won the Los Angeles Film Critics Award for best independent film.

Drugstore Cowboy, his following film in 1989, was an unapologetic look at a drug-addicted "family" led by Matt Dillon that supported itself by robbing pharmacies across the pacific northwest. The film was a critical and arthouse hit, and set Van Sant as a voice for the young. His study of a gay hustler in My Own Private Idaho (1991), was praised for its lyricism, find performances and contribution to the canon of gay and lesbian cinema. It also contains what many feel is the late River Phoenix's seminal performance. His adaptation of Tom Robbins' novel Even Cowgirls Get the Blues in 1994 received a critical trouncing that would cause many filmmakers to reassess their careers. Van Sant, however, bounced back the following year with To Die For, a blackly comic examination of the American obsession with fame and celebrity, featuring a career-redefining performance from Nicole Kidman and a witty, caustic screenplay by Hollywood legend Buck Henry.

Van Sant's latest effort is Good Will Hunting, from a screenplay by two of its stars, Matt (The Rainmaker) Damon and Ben (Chasing Amy) Affleck. Robin Williams co-stars as a determined psychologist who attempts to get through to a working class prodigal math genius (Damon) who buries his intellect under a veil of self-destruction and apathy. Minnie Driver also stars in one of the year's smartest and heart-felt films, which is sure to recognized on Oscar night and, quite possibly, put Van Sant's name into the (dare we say it) mainstream of American filmmakers.

Gus Van Sant recently spoke to Venice in a dubbing stage on the Disney lot about his enigmatic work and career.

You moved around a lot as a kid. How did this shape your perceptions?
Gus Van Sant: My father was a salesman of men's sportswear. In my lifetime we lived in Kentucky, Colorado, Illinois, California, Connecticut and Oregon. It made it easy for me to adapt to different places, but not necessarily to blend. They were all very suburban, very similar places.

When did you discover the arts?
When I was about 12 years old. I had some very influential teachers in my school in Connecticut. Painting was my original interest. I had a great art teacher. I had another teacher in 9th grade named David Soan, who used to show films and let the kids in his class make 8mm movies. So I started to do that with the family camera.

What were your first films about?
They were animated. That's also the sorts of films he was showing us in class, from the Canadian Film Board. Very experimental sorts of things. Schools in the 60's had a lot of very experimental aspects to it, which is why the English teacher was showing, essentially, art movies in class. It was the era of Marshall Macluhan. My English teacher actually wrote a book called Stop, Look and Write, that was sort of an experimental look at how to write. He even showed us Citizen Kane. Seeing that at 14 was a major influence on me. I don't know what would have happened had Mr. Soan not been there and he hadn't shown that film to me. Pretty amazing stuff for a public school. I was interested in film initially more as a painter than as a dramatist.

So you really had an introductory film education in high school before you even hit film school.
Yeah, we even made a 20 minute 16mm film at my high school in Oregon that was the equivalent of what you'd do as a senior project in most college film programs. So the first year of film school especially was quite easy for me.

Who are some of the filmmakers who influenced you early on?
A lot of avant-garde filmmakers from the 60's, like 80 or 90 of them, that I would read about during the 60's. Sometimes we'd see their films at the Museum of Modern Art or something like that. There were the Kuchar brothers, Bruce Conner, Kenneth Anger, Stan van der Beek...

There were parts of My Own Private Idaho that I thought hearkened back to some of Kenneth Anger's work, with the leather and biker imagery.
I never got to see any of his films until film school, but he took the same role on influencing me as the other guys. But it was mostly about reading about his films that influenced me. As a kid in the suburbs it was hard to see those kinds of films.

What about any of the European filmmakers from the 60's?
Yeah, a little bit. Fellini and Alexandro Jodorowsky. El Topo was one of the films I saw when I first came out, around '68 or '69. Bergman was another one...Truffaut, Goddard, Antonioni, Passolini. Lina Wertmuller was also very popular when I was in film school.

You went to the Rhode Island School of Design initially to study painting. What made you change over to film?
Well, you didn't have to declare your major until you were a junior...It didn't seem like painting would really be a way to make any kind of money or to support yourself. There were a lot of these art students that either wound up staying in Providence, or the people who went to New York City as painters, and remained unemployed. It was a long road to be traveling. There was a reward at the end of the long road, perhaps, but there wasn't a lot of hope...the painter students who'd come back to speak at the school, they'd reel off these statistics of how many painters were living in New York City and how many actually made it and it was pretty staggering.

So you looked on filmmaking as a more pragmatic way of making a living?!
Yeah. (laughs)

What did you do immediately after film school?
I actually traveled to Italy and visited all the working Italian filmmakers sets. We just sort of observed or sometimes would have interviews with the directors. We saw Fellini while he was shooting Casanova. Wertmuller was shooting Seven Beauties. Pasolini was finishing Salo. Tinto Brass was finishing Madame Kitty.

What was the set of Salo like?
We didn't actually go to the set on that one. One group of students got to watch him dubbing. Another that I was in got to go to his house and talk with him.

What was your impression of him?
He was very smart, but that was my impression of a lot of these guys as a 20 year-old student. Italy itself was quite interesting because it was sort of like being inside a Fellini film. So I could see where Fellini had gotten a lot of his material--from his own culture. The directors all had their kind of (quirks) that you would expect. We had lunch at a table with Lina Wertmuller and Giancarlo Giannini. None of us spoke Italian and sometimes we'd be interpreted through someone who did but...basically it was just being there. Our guide was Gideon Bachman, who still lives in Italy, writes and works on film projects there. He was the guy who knew all these filmmakers and got us in. Then after that I moved to L.A. because I didn't speak Italian...

What was Hollywood in the 70's like?
It was great. I went to a lot of places and met a lot of people and got a lot of advice, but again, there was no work to be found. So after about eight months of looking for work, I read this interview with Chevy Chase where he mentioned this old friend of his named Ken Shapiro. And I knew Ken Shapiro's movies, The Groove Tube I'd seen...Someone had told me early on in my journey to Hollywood that you could contact anyone you wanted, just call them up. You could call Hitchcock if you wanted and bug him for a job...So I realized that that's what I should start doing. So I decided to call Ken Shaprio as opposed to Hitchcock because that seemed slightly less intimidating...So I showed Ken some movies and he gave me a job and I worked for him for about two years on the Paramount lot and also at his office at his house. I learned a lot working with him. He was hot off The Groove Tube. This was 1975. There was a big group working for him before I arrived, including Lorne Michaels, who was writing a script for him before he went to make Saturday Night Live, which essentially used a lot of the ideas that were in The Groove Tube. Then when Lorne Michaels pitched the idea for SNL, they invited Ken to go along with them, but he felt like he had other important things to do and didn't want to get involved in what was essentially a pilot, even though it was live skit humor. So really all of his friends left and went to New York to work on that show. Meanwhile he was embarking on his career at Paramount, which at the time seemed like the better of the two deals. But, as you know, Saturday Night Live became this huge institution that unbelievably still exists today. But he was really like one of the creators, if the not the creator of Saturday Night Live, but he never got to see anything of it, even though it was really a spin-off of The Groove Tube.

The first film of yours that got you recognition was Mala Noche, right?
Yeah. It was my second film as a director. My first was called Alice in Hollywood in 1979. I also did a short film from a William Burroughs short story. I moved to Portland to make Mala Noche. Around 1980 or so, I got really fed up with L.A. I was writing screenplays on spec that weren't selling. I was getting editing jobs when I could. I was mostly working as a temporary secretary. Then when my father offered me a job working in his warehouse in New Jersey I realized that made about as much sense as working as a temporary secretary in L.A. So I moved to Portland...and Mala Noche took four years to make. Things were cheaper in Portland. I had friends who were filmmakers up there who had equipment. At the time the TV news was still being shot on film, so it was easy to get extra stock if you knew somebody. In those days video got a bad rap, I think. Now with the MTV generation, people are used to looking at film done in distressed super 8, video and all kinds of formats. Now you've got a moviegoing public that accepts any sort of distressed format...you can present it at Sundance and nobody will care that the image isn't perfectly pristine. It's all about your ability to tell your story in a way that isn't putting the audience to sleep... Filmmakers should try to shoot film every single day. It's almost like a weight lifter who decides he's going to save all his strength and not train until the day of the competition. Well when that day comes, he realizes that he should've been preparing by lifting weights every single day instead of just waiting around for the competition to finally start. It's the actual process of doing the work that's the most important thing. Shoot on video. Shoot on High-8. I've seen a lot of great things on video that couldn't have cost much.

You cast legendary author William Burroughs in your breakthrough film Drugstore Cowboy. Tell us about him.
He was very interested in the screenplay. He didn't want to play the character Tom the way he was originally written in the screenplay, which was as this sort of pathetic loser...he wanted the character to have some more pride. So he came up with the idea of making Tom be a junkie priest. So he pretty much created the stuff in his scenes on his own.

A lot of people consider River Phoenix's performance in My Own Private Idaho to be his finest. They've also drawn a lot of parallels between his character in the film and the way he died. Did you perceive any hint of the self-destructiveness that eventually killed him?
I never really saw his death as a self-destructive death. I see it more as a sort of calamity. A sort of mistake that was made on a wild bender that I don't think was related to self-destructiveness, because he really wasn't a self-destructive person. He got that rap though, I think, from the press, who have created a whole angle on his situation. I remember Johnny Depp saying that that kind of death can happen to anybody. And if people think that it can only happen to someone like River and not to them just aren't watching out. The media is its own sort of entity, its own sort of animal. River had a certain public image that went against the grain of how he died. It was like "how can a vegetarian possibly do drugs." It's like they felt they'd been cheated and lied to by this guy...If he had been hit by a truck it would have been different, which is really how I look at it, as a tragic accident. To me River really was a symbol of hope and good cheer. He was probably one of the greatest persons I've ever met.

Tell us about how you became involved with Good Will Hunting.
I read the screenplay and I knew the two guys who'd written it. Matt had tried out for To Die For and Ben I'd met on the set of To Die For where he was visiting his younger brother Casey, who was in it. As soon as I'd read it I was scrambling to find their numbers and finally got Ben on the phone and said "I'm in! I want to do this right away, as my next project." It's kind of an amazing thing to have happen, because they'd just gotten it set up at Miramax and hadn't really been around very long...but the screenplay was really good enough to attract attention right away. I was just lucky enough to get ahold of it first.

We spoke before about your advice to first-time filmmakers. Any more words of wisdom to impart?
Get plenty of rest and exercise and do your homework before you shoot. Don't wait until you get to the set.

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