Mark Hamill walks down memory lane with Walter Chaw
March 20, 2005|You learn some things about yourself when you undertake any sort of profession, I guess--that is, how well you deal with certain unique, job-related situations. I learned fairly early on, and luckily, that I'm not given to being particularly star-struck. But there was a moment as I was talking with Mark Hamill via telephone from his home in California that I realized I was having to work a little bit to not start raving like a lunatic. I noted a little tremor in my hand; it was completely unexpected. Hearing the voice of Luke Skywalker--what was possibly the single most important shaping cultural force of my childhood--on the other end of the wire gave me a line, vibrant and organic, back to a four-year-old me, back to a time before I spoke a peep of English. See, with Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher, I've since identified them with other things (Indiana Jones and drug addiction/ghost writing, respectively), but Mark Hamill remains primary in my imagination as that kid I wanted to be: towheaded and chosen, the golden calf of the culture into which I desperately wished to assimilate.
It's been years since the original Star Wars trilogy so intoxicated me. Fresher is the feeling of betrayal as Lucas periodically revamps his films, leaving what is very much my childhood on grainy VHS tapes for sale on eBay: the last place you can get the original versions of the films. (The latest offense--Lucas inserting Hayden Christensen into Return of the Jedi--somehow worse and more invasive than making Greedo shoot first. Where one is simpering, the other is just unspeakable.) The argument that the films are Lucas's to do with as he pleases is reductive at its heart: It's art-killing to declare that once art is introduced into the popular conversation, it nonetheless belongs to the artist alone. If DaVinci were alive, would he feel the tickle to give the Mona Lisa a makeover? (Modern threads, modern setting?) What does it mean to say that someone has the right to vandalize his or her own creations? Should Max Brod have respected Kafka's wishes that his manuscripts be destroyed upon his death? Director's editions are all the rage, but it's only with Star Wars that the director in question declines to make the unaltered editions of his pictures available--or to even answer questions regarding his edits. Both Apocalypse Now and Apocalypse Now Redux are readily available to buy--to see The Empire Strikes Back with that line about droids not tasting very good, you gotta do a little digging for what's probably a rental copy in an inferior format. Who knows, maybe it's better that way: winnows the wheat of the true believer from the chaff of the sycophant.
So partly out of deference to Mr. Hamill's thirty-some years of dealing daily with the Star Wars question, and partly out of my own desire to better calm myself to ask questions about a topic I'm a little (read: a lot) unprofessional about (I have a good friend, Dave, who'll vouch for how I do go on about Lucas's puerility when given the chance--calling cigarettes "death sticks," Jesus Christ), I didn't touch on Star Wars until the end. Between (now here's an irony) an expanded cut of the butchered WWII drama Hamill made for Samuel Fuller, The Big Red One, due for DVD release in May, his directorial debut Comic Book: The Movie performing well on video, and his rise as a superstar of a different sort as one of the most sought-after voice-actors in popular American animation, we had enough to discuss. But I did ask the questions I wanted to ask, and though I gave Mr. Hamill every opportunity to demur, he was forthcoming, impassioned, and articulate on subjects as varied as Fuller, The Kinks, John Carpenter, and, yep, George Lucas. You don't get to meet your heroes too often--rarer still that they turn out to have matured at something like the same pace you hope to have matured yourself. What can I say but the circle is now complete.FILM
FREAK CENTRAL: Tell me about playing Snoopy in "You're A Good
Man, Charlie Brown."
MARK HAMILL: My god,
what kind of research did you do? That was in high school in Japan.
You mention it in an
article from ROLLING STONE published between Star
Wars and The Empire Strikes Back.
I don't even remember doing that interview.
Wow. Okay, y'know, my father was in the Navy, I moved around quite a
bit and when I was in Virginia, he would take a lot of trips to New
York. By that time, I was already really interested in the theatre and
television and film and he'd take me along so that I could see a lot of
shows.
With your father?
No, by myself, I don't think we ever saw
anything... No, he went to the "Mad Show" with me off-Broadway--but
during that time I saw "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown" off-Broadway
and the reason I mention all this is that by the time I got to school
in Yokohama, Japan, I wanted the drama department to do more modern
plays. A lot of times, you know, your drama department does plays that
the teachers liked when they were young--but I pushed really hard and
got it to go through and I wound up playing that part. It's still one
of the most satisfying experiences I've had on stage, made more
meaningful because Charles Schultz was a big influence on me.
As a comic artist?
Yeah, I read a lot about him and sort of
fantasized about being a comic strip artist. I mean, gee, you can work
at home and you can create the entire universe all by yourself. I still
love the simplicity of that idea of creation, you know, film and
theatre and television are such composite endeavours. There are so many
people who work on it. That's why I envy stand-up comedians and
musicians, too, because all they really need is themselves and an
audience. You finish a film or voice-work on a cartoon, and it can be
months or years later until you see the fruits of that labour.
You recently finished
directing your first film, Comic Book: The Movie.
I did, I did, it was exhausting, I'd get
back from rehearsals for a play I was doing at the time, take a shower,
and then look at film until the sun came up. I'd been directing a lot
of animation and video games, but to actually, even on such a tiny
scale, direct a film... It's a mixed blessing and I don't know that I'm
entirely cut out for it. To tell you the truth, there's a side of me
that's really lazy. I remember reading an interview with Spencer Tracy
where they asked him what he looked for in a script and he said "days
off"--and I could understand that. If you're in an ensemble, playing a
villain or some walk-on, it's a totally different experience than if
you were the lead and you work on up until you're the director of a
picture and suddenly you're the person who's making all of the
decisions.
Especially, ironically, on
a small picture.
That's right--no delegation authority at
all. It's like that old saw, I don't like writing but I like having
written--I loved learning the process of directing and putting a film
together, of collaborating with an editor and with actors, picking the
music, of being in control and having a greater say in creative
decisions, but the pressure is enormous. Everybody asks you questions
from contingency plans if there's rain to parking spots to where's the
caterer. It's really something. It gives you an amazing, wonderful
creative rush, and like everything you have good and bad days, but it's
astounding how hard it was.
Would you do it again?
I would, I really would, but I would just
want to concentrate on directing and not be in it--hopefully it's going
to be Black Pearl. I think, to be honest, that I
got this movie done because I agreed to be in it, myself. When I
initially pitched the idea of a film directed by me, it was going to be
a film version of the comic that I did, "Black Pearl", but they said
that it was too "much" for them--which, essentially to me, meant that
they didn't trust me with a project that size for that expense. They'd
done the thing with the two "Star Trek" actors reminiscing about the
show and after a while talking with them I sort of got a sense of where
the wind was blowing...
Luke Skywalker: Secrets.
(laughs) Right. So I
shifted gears a little, I tried to get them interested in me sort of
returning to the comic convention world a little bit without having to
stroll down memory lane. I could maybe appeal to the same audience,
that same broad umbrella of "genre fan," for the amount of money that
they had and were willing to invest in me, and this sort of
mock-documentary is what I came up with. I mean, you know, Woodstock at
the ComiCon--something more than just a concert film, something like Gimme
Shelter with comic books. (laughs) In
hindsight, I'm glad for the experience because it was, in a lot of
ways, like film school for me.
Your access at the San
Diego Comic Book Convention decreased as shooting went on, didn't it?
It did. Initially, we could go essentially
wherever we wanted, but after a while they started getting a little
nervous, I think. The title I heard a lot was Trekkies--I
hadn't seen it, but from what these people were saying, they were
afraid that what I was doing was going to be snarky. But, really, I
mean, I'm a comic book nerd through and through, making fun of them was
the last thing on my mind.The biggest blow was them rescinding
permission for me to film the costume competition. Fears of lawsuits on
my side, fear of mockery on their side... Just too bad that in this
sort of post-modern age, people have become so fearful of being the
butt of a reality-show joke.
Miramax bought it.
Yep--for direct-to-video release. And when
they bought it, they immediately cut out certain scenes that had
copyrighted characters in the backgrounds. They gave me this list that
had these durations: how long can you hold on a character without it
being a problem: it was like 4.3 seconds or something. Insane. There
are a few scenes that were left on the cutting room floor--I mean,
we're in such a litigious society--that I really look back on with some
sadness.
Tell me about Ralph Bakshi.
The Bakshi was so early on. I don't know
why I didn't continue on with the voice work when I was younger--the
success of Star Wars might have had something to do
with it! (laughs) I actually got started earlier
with a Saturday morning kid's cartoon back when I was a teenager that
was a Hanna-Barbera version of "I Dream of Jeannie".
"Jeannie".
(laughs) Right--I played
the young version of the Larry Hagman character. I was very down on
Hanna-Barbera at that age: I loved Looney Tunes and more cutting-edge
stuff, you know. Here I was, it was the number-one rated show that
season, but I was just this kid and I had to learn that sometimes you
have to compromise on the projects that you get. I hated "I Dream of
Jeannie"--I worked with Larry Hagman and he hated
"I Dream of Jeannie", too. (laughs) Looking back,
though, it sure was fun doing it, I have to say. They're all great
experiences.
Working on "General
Hospital", too?
Yep. I mean, that was almost like working
on live television even though it was on a week delay. We'd flub and
they'd just keep rolling and there was this insane amount of
memorization going on all the time. But with Bakshi, I'd seen Fritz
the Cat and thought it was brilliant and so on an off-week, I
went and auditioned for Wizards. Bakshi is really a
character, man, he's a lot like the police character he did in that
film--and, later, I just really adored the stuff he did with the
"Mighty Mouse" character. At the time, I remember reading for the lead,
which I didn't get, but they called me back to read for a smaller part,
an elf character which I eventually got.
"Sean."
Right. Not a very elf-y name, is it? But it
was a very small part, I don't think I had more than thirty seconds on
screen all told. If I remember right, Sean was this little thing with
wings, this little fairy, and he gets blown away. He sets up this
Disney-esque moment and then he's smeared in this moment of graphic
violence.
You didn't get along with
Bakshi.
No, that's not true, but he was a character
for sure, a colourful guy and he didn't pull any punches, believe me. (In
a scary Bakshi impersonation:) "You call yourself a fairy?
You gotta get a goddamn, fucking..." and I was, what, seventeen?
Eighteen? I wasn't used to being screamed at yet, I hadn't worked with
Dick Donner yet. (laughs)
And you worked with Regan
McNeil at the same time. (Hamill co-starred with Linda Blair
in the TV movie Sarah T.: Portrait of a Teenage Alcoholic.
-Ed.)
(laughs) That's right,
that's right. So when Bakshi left for lunch, I looked over at some of
the techs and said, "I am soooo fired," because I mean, I had a temper,
I pushed back a little--"Just wait a minute! Let me find the character!
I don't know what a fucking fairy is supposed to sound like!" Then he
storms off to lunch and I'm sure my brief flirtation with Wizards
was history. But the techies said to me that Bakshi wouldn't scream at
me if he didn't love me. I don't know if that's true or not, but he
didn't fire me.
And with Donner?
With Dick, and we became great friends
afterwards, but it was this little TV movie and I was the only person
on it that wasn't established and he liked having a whipping boy. He'd
ridicule me in front of the entire crew and I just had it one day--I
jumped down off of my horse and...
Literally?
(laughs) Yeah, I was on
an actual horse and... You know, I think that was part of the conflict
and it was probably my fault because he'd asked me if I could ride a
horse before we started shooting, and I told him that I could. Well, I
mean, I'd ridden horses before but I wasn't a professional horseman or
anything. I could stay up there fine but he was looking for something
more accomplished than that--I guess I was bouncing too much off the
saddle or something, it wasn't up to snuff. So Dick really had been
riding me pretty hard and that was it, we got into
this back and forth, really heated. It sounds like I blow up on every
project that I'm on, and I swear I don't--thirty years and these are
the two stories--but after this row, I went to my trailer and just was
like, it's done, I'm done on this thing, it's not going to work out.
Again, though, didn't happen, just the opposite. Just by standing up to
him after taking to for so long, swallowing my pride for so long...
He respected you?
Yeah, you know, he had at least at that
time a really confrontational way of dealing with his actors, but from
the point that I sort of pushed back, we really started to get along.
Who knew?
You
worked on the American releases of two Miyazaki films--Castle
in the Sky and NausicaƤ--as a voice actor.
I'd imagine that working on a Miyazaki would be the top of the mountain.
Oh man, it was great. The American-language
director was Jack Fletcher and what's really fascinating to me is that
I went to high school for two years in Japan and became aware of anime
back then--shows on their television that were much more adult-oriented
than what we were getting over here at that time, the "Speed Racer"s
and the "Astro Boy"s and stuff--and I was always just fascinated with
how the Japanese have evolved animation into a medium for adult
stories. They'd never do an animated murder mystery or a ghost story, a
serious one, in the United States. And what really has been a great
regret in my life is that I never learned Japanese well enough to
experience their process from the first beginning to the end. Over
there, I think, they animate first and then they do the voices to the
animation--we do it the opposite here, talk first, then animate. But
Miyazaki, absolutely brilliant. I didn't have large roles in Castle
in the Sky and NausicaƤ, but I loved the
challenge of it: the vowel sounds, dubbing after the fact and being
convincing, in character--it was a constant dance, you know, stop and
start and back and forth, and of course the films themselves are
classics. Really an honour to help bring that to a, maybe, younger
American audience.
You were highly-praised
for your performances on Broadway as John Merrick in "The Elephant Man"
and Mozart in "Amadeus."
I was interested in "Amadeus" at that time because Peter Hall was going
to direct. When I did "Elephant Man", Jack Hofsiss (winner of
a 1979 Tony for his direction of "Elephant Man" -Ed.)--a lot
of times when you replace on Broadway you don't get to work with the
original people so at the time I did "Elephant Man"--Hofsiss was off
doing a Jill Clayburgh movie, I'm Dancing As Fast As I Can
I think, and so I missed out on working with him even though I
auditioned for him and he came during my run to see the show. But with
"Amadeus" I knew from the start that Hall was going to direct and that
I'd have a chance to work with all these Royal Academy of Dramatic Art
folks which I was dying to do, having done a lot of classics and
Shakespeare in school. So it seemed like a great opportunity.
Simon Callow was the
originator of the role, right?
He was, yeah. The first time I saw the
show, though, I saw it when Mozart was Tim Curry and Ian McKellen was
Salieri, and I confess that the only reason I went to see it was
because of the buzz around it--I expected it to be this sort of droll
chamber comedy, you know, very polite, very upper crust and snobby,
maybe, so imagine my surprise when it's this bawdy, raunchy, as far as
you can get from the dry biographical take on this classical composer.
It's wicked, really, and I was enthralled, you know.
Fun to do the research,
too.
(laughs) In seriousness,
that's my favourite part of doing new roles is the research. We went to
Salsburg and walked the steps, you know, tried to get a feeling of the
place and the man in his place. We went to Vienna, saw "The Magic
Flute" there, went up to the apartment where he lived and looked at
this lock of his hair.
What colour was it?
Auburn! I was shocked! I mean, if Hammer
films have taught us anything, it's that hair turns grey and then into
ash, right? But again, fascinating, immersing myself in this unfamiliar
culture, walking down these cobblestoned streets 150 yards or so down
to the McDonald's. (laughs) I'm sure that after
knocking off a sonata, there's nothing like an Egg McMuffin. The
challenge of that period for me, though, was training my body to do
eight shows a week: to take care of your body really carefully, to
drink tea before the performances and to really be aware of your
health. It was gruelling, physically, and that was really the biggest
surprise.
Were you ever considered
for Milos Forman's film adaptation?
You know what, Forman called my agents and
asked me to come in for the film, but I told them to tell him that I
was under contract for the play and there was no way for me to break
that contract to do the movie. Yet people were breaking contract from
the Broadway production. Christine Ebersole went off, for instance, and
did it, but Forman said (in a scary Forman impersonation):
"No, no, I just want him in the interview process to read against other
people." And I loved that, you know, there's no pressure, it's just a
great acting exercise and, of course, I'm a big fan of Milos Forman, so
I go to his hotel room and said to him, very full of myself, you know,
"I'm really sorry, you know, I'd love to work with you, I'm a great
admirer, but my contract..." and he goes: "No, no, no, no, no, no, no,
no. No one is believing that the Luke Space-Walker is the Mozart."
Ouch.
(laughs) Well, that's
showbiz.
Hamill in Walking Across Egypt "I've bit my tongue for twenty years about [The Big Red One]. I saw the version that they butchered for release originally and I was appalled." |
You
mention Richard Donner and I'm going use take that to ask you about
working with Christopher Reeve on Village of the Damned--two
pop cultural icons of the Eighties, both coming to prominence with Superman.
I never thought of it that way--that's
true, I guess, but look I knew Chris before Village of the
Damned because a lot of the people who worked on George
[Lucas's] movies worked on the Superman movies,
too. And Chris was just around... Let me think... I remember the
Superman costume hanging on a wardrobe rack in his dressing room. He
wasn't there, but his wife at the time was there, and I remember that I
felt it with my fingers and I said, "Hey, I wonder what this costume
feels like," and Gae, his wife at the time, said, "It feels wonderful."
I didn't follow that up very far. (laughs) But I do
remember him coming when I was in rehearsals for "The Elephant Man" and
we were all living, my wife and I and my son Nathan, in the same hotel
where the Reeves were staying, and I remember a birthday party for him
and Chris and Gae and Chris's son, who was Nathan's age, coming over. I
still have the tape of it somewhere and Gae's telling a story
off-camera telling a story about Chris and Deathtrap
that is so profane, you know, and so you hear this hilarious, blue
story and then what you're looking at is these two little boys playing
with the cake and tearing wrapping paper.
You were close with Chris?
No, I was never close with him. I liked
him, I thought he did a fantastic job as Clark Kent, especially--really
underestimated, iconic work. But I didn't really socialize with him
very much. By the time we did Village of the Damned...
I don't know... I mean, I came in late, they'd already been filming for
a while and I was essentially a replacement for David Warner, who had
to bow out for some reason or another. When you come into the middle of
a film, I don't think that the bonding process is as successful as it
is when you're there from the start, plus, depending on who you're
playing, some actors like to keep a distance. I was the bad guy to
Chris's good guy, and you know every actor's different, but it seemed
to
me...he seemed to be preoccupied. I don't know what was going on at
that time in his life, I don't know [Reeve's second wife] Dana very
well...
Village of the Damned was
the second time you'd worked with John Carpenter.
Right, it was, with John we had mutual
friends in Dave and Ray Davies.
The Kinks?
Right--Dave Davies I met when I was doing Empire
Strikes Back. He lived not far from me, but I'd go to The
Kinksconcerts all the time and when I started to get pretty
well-recognized, the usher would come to say that the band wanted to
meet me backstage which, for me, was really a thrill. The
Kinksare just this great, underrated, literate band.
You have a favourite Kinks
album?
(laughs) That's a tough
one, "Something Else"?
Ah, I always like "Village
Green Preservation Society."
Classic. It's impossible to choose.The wit, the intelligence,
underappreciated for sure.
But anyway, Carpenter.
(laughs) But anyway, Dave loved genre film and had
written music for John Carpenter at one point, and, of course, I was a
fan of John's. His version of The Thing is just
astonishing. I remember seeing it the first week that it opened and I
said that this thing was going to be bigger than Alien--I
never did understand why it flopped like it did, it absolutely
terrified me.
E.T..
Yeah, you're right, people were
in no mood for the anti-E.T. in 1982. I remember he
showed a clip of it on the David Letterman show and it was the part
with the dog exploding with tentacles and stuff, and the audience was
just awestruck, but Letterman had just no idea what to say about it. I
saw the clip, I saw the film, was blown away, but I loved Carpenter's
work--Halloween, The Fog. So
through Dave Davies, I went to Carpenter's house one time, a Halloween
party appropriately enough. And they didn't tell me, but the theme was Star
Wars, which really tickled John when I walked in with this
look on my face and we were friends just like that.
I understand he's a
favourite of actors.
Absolutely. John's just one guy I find
extremely easy to be around. Some filmmakers you feel uncomfortable
with for whatever reason--they make you feel stupid, they suggest that
you're boring, some kind of air about them that makes it hard to have a
human relationship with them, you know, but John is just like a guy you
could go get a cheeseburger and a Cherry Coke with. He never makes you
feel awkward and he genuinely has this infectious movie-love, a guy who
read "Famous Monsters" as a kid.
Yet when you did "Body
Bags", you were in the Tobe Hooper-directed segment.
I went out to John's place where he writes,
you know, and we talked a lot about me being a part of that project and
I was thrilled. I really wanted to be directed by him, but things
didn't work out and I ended up in Tobe's segment and I sort of was
like, "Oh no, that's not the Texas Chain Saw Massacre
guy, is it?" And I hadn't even seen it, I was too much of a chicken and
after the film--which was great experience--I told Tobe that and he
just laughed and said, "Man, we didn't even cut anything up in that."
What'd you think of his Village
of the Damned?
I had much higher hopes. The Wolf Rilla one
is still the best.
Tell
me about the new The Big Red One.
Let me tell you, Walter, I've bit my tongue
for twenty years about this. I saw the version that they butchered for
release originally and I was appalled. I didn't know until I saw
it--they didn't tell any of us--that they had cut it, that they had
added narration, that they had royally screwed with the whole shebang.
It wasn't even Sam
Fuller's narration, it was Jim McBride's: insult to injury.
That's right! I'd forgotten about that!
They took the whole damn thing away from Sam, didn't they? Look, all I
can say is this, if Sam didn't complain publicly, I would toe the line.
To know Sam was to love him. I didn't want to do the movie. I read the
script and I was blown away by it: it was so oddball, so of a vision,
and written with so much force and passion--you could sense that it was
autobiographical, it was so packed with little details that nobody
could imagine unless you were there. But I didn't want to do the movie,
I was scared to death. I wanted to watch it, of course... I had seen Shock
Corridor and Steel Helmet was all at the
time... But getting back to that Spencer Tracy quote, I didn't want to
go recreate WWII in the summer in Israel.
Ego, too? You were king of
the world that summer.
Ego, definitely. I wanted a film that was
more about me and not an ensemble, and there was an element, too, that
I was such a fan of Lee Marvin that I was afraid to work with him and
find out that he was a jerk or something. In truth, really, was that I
was a little scared of Lee Marvin. (laughs) But when
I got invited to audition with a director of Sam's stature, I luckily
was humble enough to go and talk to him, and I just completely fell
under the spell of this mesmerizing storyteller. (In a scary
Fuller impersonation:) "Well, let me tell ya son, you just go
out there and you don't give a shit about anything
anymore," and he hypnotizes you: laughing, smoking his cigars, the
whole thing. "Turn around! I wanna' see your ass!" And we were like,
"What?" And he said, "I'm gonna shoot you so much from behind you gotta
have good asses," and you know he's putting you on, but...it was a
trip-and-a-half to be taken into his confidence.
And Lee Marvin?
You meet him and, just, wonderful
guy--funny and generous. Lee was one of the most giving actors, another
incredible storyteller, funnier than hell, and between him and Sam,
they had so much real life experience that whenever you had a question
on the set, they would set you straight. It was a living history
lesson, making that film on this miniscule budget and a TV-movie
schedule, must've been like eight weeks, and watching Fuller--he'd do a
master and a pan and a push and he wouldn't do any coverage, couldn't,
and he had this absolute confidence and economy in how he told a story.
Gritty, no frills, the camera will tell the story.
Tabloid.
Exactly, exactly. I used to joke with Sam
that I took that first meeting with him to tell him what was wrong with
his script, that there's no moment where somebody jumps out of their
foxhole, rifle blaring, screaming that "You bastards killed Johnny!"
and then run across the battlefield and take out a trench-load of Nazis.
There's that story that he
screened The Big Red One for a group of military
muckety-mucks and on their way out, one of them said to Fuller that he
didn't like it because he didn't think that it'd help recruitment at
all.
(laughs) I'll bet he was
tickled pink by that! I've been asked a lot if this is an anti-war film
and I've always said that it's a movie about guys who want to stay
alive. They've lost all their idealism by the end--grizzled and
hardened and cynical. It has repercussions today with the war that
we're in now, you know, that's the power of the piece I think is that
the truths that it tells are truths always about boys in war.
I have to say that other
than Marvin's character, your character, Griff, undergoes the most
complete story arc of any in the picture.
That means a lot to me, I'll tell you why.
When I left that first meeting I was thinking to myself, "Holy shit, I
just joined the army." He had me under his spell and I knew that I just
had to work with this guy and I had a chance to do a play in New York,
some romantic comedy thing out in LA, but I had to work with Sam. And
one of the reasons that I had to do it, I think, is that besides the
fact that Sam is a genius, I was very aware that I was becoming very
famous for a role in what was essentially a fantasy war movie, the
"fun" side of war, and I started to feel even then this strong sense of
responsibility for the image that I was helping to perpetuate. I felt
self-conscious about it, being this hero pilot to five, six,
seven-year-olds, you know. I'm not that brave, Luke's
that brave. And it was really important for me at that time to choose a
character who was essentially a coward. To play Griff who didn't know
if he could pull the trigger. It felt good to do that, it felt right,
but unfortunately, nobody saw The Big Red One and,
if they had, they didn't get to see the version that Sam had envisioned
and that we thought we were working on.
Did you name your son,
Griffin, after this character?
Not consciously, but there are so many
"Griffs" in Fuller's pictures that at least on some level I much have
been influenced. I loved Sam so much and when it came time to name
Griffin, it just seemed like the natural choice.
Did your dad, a military
man, get to see you in The Big Red One?
(long pause) You know,
that's a really interesting question. My father's still alive, my mom
passed away, and if he did, he didn't say anything about it. He was
really disappointed that I didn't follow in his footsteps. My older
brother's a doctor, another works with computers, and I have four
sisters, but he was of the mindset that show business, and I can't say
he's wrong, is superficial and not very important. I feel that myself,
have felt that myself, often. But I think it'd be interesting for him
to see it, yeah, especially now when it's finally the movie that I
signed up to do.
So,
I have to do it: Star Wars.
(laughs) I heard Eric
Idle talking the other day about "SpamAlot" and he said that there's
not a day that goes by, not one day, when the term "Monty Python"
doesn't come up in his life. And his response is very similar to mine,
that you either come to terms with it, or you go slowly mad.
Which did you do?
(laughs) I hope I came
to terms with it. It's funny because my reaction to it is much
different in different situations. If it's a young person who's just
come to it for the first time, or someone who was moved to go into the
business in some way either on the story side or the technical
side--and I find technicians on every level who say that those films
were their primary inspiration--it's one thing. And of course, there's
the frustrating side of it when the Milos Formans say, "Luke Space
Walker, this," and yadda yadda forget about it, you know, and that's
the real down side. I fled to Broadway so I could do other things:
comedy, dialects...
Voice acting offers the
same refuge.
Oh yeah, more so even, I can play a burly
bodyguard one day, a shrimp the next, and The Joker the day after that.
But in Hollywood, my options are extraordinarily limited. No casting
directors are going to be sitting around saying that they need a drug
dealer, or a pedophile, or something like that and think, Hey, Luke
Skywalker would be perfect for that.
A Tarantino might.
This is true. But generally, my name's not
even in the hopper. It's a curse, but it's a blessing, too. I mean, I
know that doors have opened for me because of that role. I'm working on
an animated series right now and I know that the producers of the show
took that first meeting with me because of who I played. The story is
strong on its own merits, but I was able to meet with a broad range of
investors who, who knows, but at two or three of those meetings, I
spent at least part of the time signing posters and figures for their
kids. It's just a fact of my life now, I don't know that I can even
imagine my life without that recognition, I can't speculate.
You're not bitter.
No, not at all. There are aspects of the
marketing that's grown around it, sort of supernova'd out of it,
really, and the fraud that's out there trying to prey on people for
their affection for those films, that gets me a little--but the core
films, I'm not the least bit bitter about them. Really fun films,
wholesome films in a lot of ways, that just happened to become this
cultural phenomenon. I have a lot of satisfaction to be able to work
doing what I'm doing now, things I really love. I'm having the time of
my life right now, and there's this satisfaction that I have of being a
part of so many peoples' fond childhood memories and be able through
"Batman" or "The Simpsons" or "Justice League" or "Robot Chicken" to be
a part of a new generation of kids' memories.
About those memories, I
feel as though Lucas has stolen a bit of my childhood with his constant
tinkering of the original Star Wars trilogy.
I haven't been reticent about saying,
"Leave them alone." Make the new ones, that's fine, but why would you
go back and change film history? So much of the charm of those movies
is that they're what George once called "The most expensive low-budget
movie ever made," and, indeed, there's so much invention in those
films: using trucks to drive by the Death Star models and set off
charges when the X-Wings would crash into it, cribbing shots from old
WWII aerial battle films... We were forced on that movie to improvise a
lot, to use our imaginations, and that's something that goes away with
big budgets and limitless technology.
Technology that's somehow
gotten more sophisticated in the prequels.
I asked George at the time, I asked him why
we were doing the middle three episodes of a proposed nine-episode
series, and he said (in a scary Lucas impersonation):
"Eh, the middle three are the most commercial"--but you're absolutely
right that you run the risk now that the new films have technologies
that are much more advanced. The process of disenfranchisement of the
original fans starts, you see? I mean, really, why not have both
options available? You can watch the original theatrical release that a
lot of guys your age saw, what, three times in the theatre? More?
I saw it about eight times
in the theatre in 1977.
Right--why not release that version as a
second disc in the Special Edition? His argument is that why not use
new technology to insert the things that you couldn't have before, new
animals in Mos Eisley, and that's fine, but on the other hand, why not
have as a bonus feature, the original film? Why make them so hard to
get?
Like "The Star Wars
Holiday Special".
(laughs) No comment on
that one. But seriously, it'd be different, wouldn't it, if George had
passed away and it was someone else tinkering with these films in this
way? The uproar would be deafening. Look, you make a conscious effort
to detach yourself from the debate--you want to be publicly supportive
because you don't want to come off as some sad has-been who wishes he
were still involved in the franchise and then on the other hand, you
don't want to be so supportive that you seem like this rubber-stamping
sycophant. It was easier when I was actually working on the movies--you
could change your lines a little, argue with him. Now, there's nothing
for me to say.
I heard a neat thing once,
that during Star Wars, Lucas was Luke--and by the
time of Return of the Jedi, he was Jabba the Hutt.
He's in his own world. He's like William
Randolph Hearst or Howard Hughes, he's created his own world and he can
live in it all the time. You really see that in his films, he's
completely cut off from the rest of world. You can see a huge
difference in the films that he does now and the films that he did when
he was married. I know for a fact that Marcia Lucas was responsible for
convincing him to keep that little "kiss for luck" before Carrie
[Fisher] and I swing across the chasm in the first film: "Oh, I don't
like it, people laugh in the previews," and she said, "George, they're
laughing because it's so sweet and unexpected"--and her influence was
such that if she wanted to keep it, it was in. When the little mouse
robot comes up when Harrison and I are delivering Chewbacca to the
prison and he roars at it and it screams, sort of, and runs away,
George wanted to cut that and Marcia insisted that he keep it. She was
really the warmth and the heart of those films, a good person he could
talk to, bounce ideas off of, who would tell him when he was wrong. Now
he's so exalted that no one tells him anything.
Disturbing racism in the
new films.
Well, listen, I would have loved to have
looked at that first screenplay, for Episode 1, and
I would have said, "Uh oh, see, but we had a Han Solo character," who
could sort of cut any potential awkwardness, when we'd get close to
maybe being a little corny--whenever things with The Force got a little
too heavy and mystical, we had a guy who could just sort of act as the
voice of reason, you know, he was a mercenary and cocksure and a
smartass and he kept the pictures on sort of an even keel.
I get most uncomfortable
during Return of the Jedi when Han starts to
convert--feels scary in a pod sort of way.
Exactly right--Han Solo was there as the
voice of skepticism. But you look at the new pictures and there's not
that character to offset the grave fanaticism of the piece. Everyone's
so sincere, there's no release from that archness that comes with
highly-stylized fantasy. But, again, he's a guy who's earned the right
to do exactly what he wants, so I temper my remarks by saying that he's
the studio now and that's something I really admire about him. When he
was working with Fox, you know, he had to every day deal with memos
like "Why doesn't the Wookiee have pants? Put him in lederhosen," and
I'd think, Oh boy, if they're just looking at Chewbacca's crotch, we're
really in trouble. But now he doesn't have to answer to anyone and he
doesn't.
Is he humourless?
No, I mean, he had no problems with me
doing that parody sketch in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back,
he just wanted me to use different-coloured lightsabers, but he was
fine with it. But you hear him interviewed and there's no compromise
involved when he's challenged. He doesn't say, "Yeah, I should have
lightened up a little bit there," or, "Yeah, that was a mistake." He
digs his heels in, he's adamant, and you know that what's on the screen
is exactly what he wants. And I've never seen that kind of autonomy
before, anywhere, on this kind of scale. I mean, even Spielberg has
partners. I should add, too, that you certainly can't tell he's doing
something wrong by the box office.
When do you think he'll
finally replace you with a digital ghost that's some morph of Natalie
Portman and Hayden Christensen?
(laughs) Hayden is in Return
of the Jedi, now, isn't he?
Alas...
Now, see, I don't watch them anymore so
that I don't know, but at what point does he decide, "Hey, Tom Cruise
would be a much better Luke, why don't we build a virtual Tom Cruise to
replace him?" Who's to say? It's very profound what you said about your
childhood being taken away from you a little with these constant
revisions--I hear that and I'll say this, that history will out, you
know? You have to look forward and just leave the past to itself.
Did you know that
Lucasfilm instructed distributors not to send us a screening copy of
the original trilogy? We thought that was a pretty nifty affirmation
that we were doing something right.
Your Episode II review,
right? We used that in my film, excerpted a part of it, because of its
passion and that sense that here was a guy who, no matter the
consequences, was telling it like it is. Listen, the enemies list is
longer than the employee list nowadays, smile man. Even though George
has tried really hard, it's impossible not to become an entrenched
entity. George admits that: he is the establishment
now and if you don't toe the line and do it the right way, you're out.
Wear it as a badge of honour.
Missed this the first time around. Great interview. Gives me new respect for Mark Hamill it had never even occurred to me to have.
Posted by: Rob | March 24, 2013 at 12:12 PM