Exclusive Transformers 2 Image!

On July 2, 2009, Paramount released a new image of Optimus Prime from Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. The shot, which comes from the studio’s blockbuster sequel, is available exclusively on this site. Check it out:

As all five of my faithful readers probably already know, I’ve been writing a lot about Transfomers: Revenge of the Fallen lately, and earned a dubious (albeit rewarding) reputation because of it. After my initial review posted on Cinematical.com, Roger Ebert picked up the pull-quote I used in my Rotten Tomatoes link and used it as the punch line to his own terrific, albeit decidedly more negative assessment of the film. Subsequently he rejiggered the end of his review because it (like many) took the line out of context, and to more than make up for it – and to be fair, even a dig from Ebert is better than a kudos from many others – he mentioned me again in a column about movie robots, calling me “most reasonable,” a descriptor I am currently having printed on my business cards.

On Monday I appeared on G4’s Attack of the Show opposite the formidable Devin Faraci of Chud.com to defend my position on Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, and while Devin’s a passionate, articulate and incredibly talented fellow, I think I managed to hold my own pretty well – especially given the fact that I’m still largely a newcomer to broadcast work.

Click here to check out my G4 appearance. Ater the debate Monday, a Cinematical reader pointed out that I’ve been referenced again, in no less than the film’s marketing materials; apparently I have called the film a “masterpiece,” although the full context of that word is evidently not provided in TV spots.

Interview: Zach Galifianakis

Prior to 2006, Zach Galifianakis was best known – by me, anyway – as one of the members of uber-producer Jon Brion’s coterie of comedians and artists who share the stage with him at Los Angeles’ iconic (and sadly now closed) club Largo. But after watching his concert DVD, Live at the Purple Onion, I became slightly… well, obsessed with the visionary funnyman, tracking him down for an interview and generally hunting down his work wherever I could find it. Unlike any comedian I’d seen before, he not only made me laugh, but made me think, and more specifically, made me think about what constitutes good comedy, how it’s constructed, and how it can impact an audience.

Suffice it to say that I was thrilled to be able to speak with him again when I was invited last year to attend a set visit for his new film The Hangover, which also stars Bradley Cooper (He’s Just Not That Into You), Ed Helms (TV’s The Office), and Justin Bartha (National Treasure 1 and 2). Along with a small group of journalists, I was lucky enough to sit down and talk to him for a few minutes about his character in the film, whereupon he trained his offbeat and groundbreaking sense of humor on our unfortunate group and gave us just enough information to make us both laugh and think, although not always in that order.

What was cracking you up out there? Was the baby doing something?

Galifianakis: Well, Ed was laughing and when someone laughs, it makes me laugh. Just the reveal of the baby was making Ed laugh. He’s just stupid. He just got giggly and I got giggly. That’s what we were laughing at. And then it just got funnier because Todd [Phillips], the director, got upset at us. And when someone gets upset at you laughing, it only makes it worse. It makes it so much funnier. So he was getting angry which reminded me of my father in church when I would laugh. Then my father getting mad only made it better. So that’s why we were giggling. There’s a baby doll that’s a stand-in who looks like a real baby and the other day I was acting like the baby was masturbating himself and Todd goes, “Oh, we’ve got to put that in the movie!” So Todd had to ask the parents, “Do you mind if a grown man is acting like he’s jerking off your baby?”

And the parents were fine with it?

Galifianakis: I wasn’t there for that. I would be too embarrassed. If they had said no, I would have been too embarrassed. There’s no way I could have watched that. But people pimp their babies out.

Is it a rule that you have to show up hung over to the set every day?

Galifianakis: Do I look hung over? I went out last night. I shouldn’t have done it. I got in at four. We went to a nightclub. I shouldn’t have gone. But yeah, today I’m playing the part for sure. I’m aching. It’s just research. Just research.

I hear you got to go swimming in the fountain.

Galifianakis: Yeah, I went swimming in the Caesar’s fountain. For the movie – I wasn’t doing it on my own. It was tempting to get in that thing. It was nice. I went freestyle around and I haven’t swam in a fountain in a couple of weeks so it was nice. Really nice.

Can you tell us a little about your character?

Galifianakis: The guy’s name is Alan and he’s a guy who went to raves ten years ago and was probably affected by some of the substances he took at raves and he’s still wearing the same clothes he wore at raves, but he’s gained like 25 pounds. He just hasn’t bought anything new. That’s basically the character. He’s really kind of misplaced. He’s hanging out with these guys but they really don’t want him around because he’s a weirdo.

Are you having fun playing around with the R-rating?

Galifianakis: Yeah, they wanted it to be G until I jerked a baby off. It was going to be a Pixar film. But this has a lot more elements to it than just cursing for the sake of being R. I think it’s a little bit more clever than that. I mean, it’s dirty. There’s some dirty parts in it. There’s male nudity!

Were you given that characterization or did you come up with it on your own?

Galifianakis: I came up with it when I was trying to figure out the wardrobe. I just told them I wanted tight clothes as if he had not bought [them]. I also came up with that he runs a fan site for the Pet Shop Boys. Either that or the Jonas Brothers; we’re not sure which one we’re going to use. So he’s just this older guy that’s kind of creepy. It’s a bit autobiographical I think. But you just start putting pieces together and imagining what he was and then, with that memory, you just kind of act with what you’ve given that character as history. I think that’s the best way to try and do it.

So does the baby play a big part in the film?

Galifianakis: The baby’s in several scenes. I think there’s four sets of twins that they just keep rotating. Three or four. I think there’s four rotating in and out.

Can you tell the difference?

Galifianakis: Yeah. That was Grant. And Grant has a sister named Avery. Then there’s Mikala. I can’t remember right now. I’ve only worked with four or five of them. Grant was the best. That baby hardly talked. That was a great baby. I love kids. I love babies. I love them. But not when you’re hung over.

How much opportunity do you have to include your own comedy?

Galifianakis: Well Todd lets you — I mean, any actor can go vomit lines out — but coming from a comic background, he lets you do whatever. You can just make stuff up. We do the script and then he lets us kind of play around, you know? A lot of breathing room which is really, really nice. Really, really gracious of him.

We heard improvising at the start of the scene. Is that really for the film, or does that just help you get in the mood?

Galifianakis: Well, we do it and then Todd can cut around it. He just lets us do it and then he cuts around it if he wants to. Like the conversation beforehand, it’s not in the script. We were just playing around. He can cut into that. He might not use it. I don’t know. I might be cut out of the whole film.

What are the pros and cons of shooting in Vegas?

Galifianakis: The pros are that you can get prostitutes at the food court. That’s also a con. No, the pros are that there is this energy that’s just constant and, actually, shooting in the casinos is great because they pump so much oxygen in here and I really do think that that’s kind of keeping me going. I haven’t really slept but you just go off the energy of the casinos and the life here. And the big con is that there’s very, very little sleep because of that energy. I just can’t get any rest.

How do you know when the improvisation works and when it doesn’t’?

Galifianakis: Well, as long as you’re doing improvisation within the realm of the character, you can’t just do it for the sake of the joke. I’ve done it a couple of times where, after, I realized that my character would never say it so I’ll give it to one of the other characters and vice versa. “You should say that.” If it doesn’t feel right in improvisation, Todd will come up and say, “That’s something you wouldn’t say,” and I’ll agree with it. You just kind of keep that in check. You can’t just do it for the sake of a joke. It has to be right. It has to fit the character, I think.

Did you, Ed and Bradley have a lot of time to get to know each other before shooting started?

Galifianakis: I knew both Ed and Bradley before this. Ed and I actually did a house swap and then Bradley I’ve just known. We haven’t really rehearsed, but we have gone to many dinners where we’ll talk about stuff. You just kind of jump into these things. There’s not a lot of rehearsal involved in anything I’ve worked on. You just kind of go into it. But we do hang out constantly and it’s very, very helpful. We’ll go out at night and drink and eat. Or, those guys eat and they watch me drink. All that process really helps. It was really a quick gelling on this set. There’s a good vibe right away, I think. They probably don’t think so.

What’s your criteria for choosing to take on a certain film?

Galifianakis: The money (laughs). I don’t know. I just sort of take what comes up. I wish I could sit back and say, “Oh, I’m gonna wait for a Merchant- Ivory film to come my way. Or Ivory-Merchant. Whatever it’s called. But you just take what’s given and then, hopefully, down the road you can be more choosy and only do, say, Wayans brothers movies (laughs). That’s my goal: to be more Merchant-Ivory-Wayans.

You’re also doing some indie films, though. You’ve got Visioneers coming out. What’s the status on that?

Galifianakis: It’s playing the festivals, but I don’t know. Maybe someone will pick it up. It’s a very odd little movie, but I like it a lot. It’s really good. But on that movie I asked the PAs how much they were getting paid and they were getting paid more a day than I was.

Are your scenes with Justin Bartha all flashbacks, or how does that work out?

Galifianakis: I have a number of scenes with Justin, yeah. But the whole movie, chronologically, I don’t think you would call it flashbacks. We drive to Vegas together, but I guess some of it is rewinding and trying to figure that stuff out. There is that. Absolutely. But we all have scenes with Justin.

Of the four of you, who’s the party guy and who’s the quiet one? What are the different personality types? And what kind of instrument do you play in “Rock Band”?

Galifianakis: The recorder. You know, I don’t think anybody is wild and crazy. Bradley doesn’t drink (pretends to snore). Ed just talks about The Office all the time. No, I mean they’re all gentlemen. I guess maybe I’m the crazy one because I drink in my bathtub in my room and then call the front desk and ask them to remove the bible. But yeah. We go to dinner. We sit down and drink wine and talk politics. Even though last night, I did go out.

Did you go to the Mariah Carey birthday?

Galifianakis: It was Nick Cannon (laughs). He’s one of my best friends (laughs). It was so weird. He had all these people there that clearly didn’t know him. It’s so odd. And I didn’t even realize that they’re married. But yeah. I went to that. Shamefully.

Did you actually go up and wish him a happy birthday?

Galifianakis: No. I was just staring at people. I don’t know how to behave in those clubs. It’s just fun to watch the cheesiest people in the world. But there was free vodka, so…

Did you wear any of your rave costume?

Galifianakis: No, no. I was in a Brooks Brothers shirt. No rave clothes. Though that would be funny to go out in character. I did that once. I played a doctor on this TV show. I didn’t know any of the other actors, but I had to wear doctor garb. They went out to eat and they didn’t invite me so I kept my costume on and hung out at the bar where I knew they were eating. I wanted them to think, “What a fucking nerd. He’s dressing up so that he hopes he gets recognized from the show.” And nobody liked it. Nobody laughed. They all thought I was weird. It was so embarrassing.

At this point, are you more interested in doing stand-up or acting?

Galifianakis: I don’t know. I just kind of go with it. I get burned out on standup. But I like acting. I do like it. But sometimes you just feel like a monkey. You just feel like a complete tool. But I like it. I do like it. Stand-up is just more free. A lot more freedom because you just do what you want to do.

A lot of comedians are getting noticed by doing short films on the internet. Do you see that as something that’s going to be the wave of the future?

Galifianakis: Certainly, yeah. You don’t have to go pay your dues as much, I think, as on stage. But if you have that background, it’s helpful. It’s always helpful to have that background. You can just throw something on and sometimes it sticks. People get TV deals by doing something in their grandmother’s basement. It is definitely the wave. Everybody is trying to do all that stuff. I mean, the internet is the only reason that I’ve gotten work is because I’ve somehow created a line and people have seen it. And then I’ve been asked to auditions. So yeah, for sure. Absolutely.

Interview: James Toback

Like many people, my immediate frame of reference for James Toback is his most commercial achievement, his brilliant screenplay for 1991’s Bugsy, a film which only seems to appreciate in complexity and sophistication in the years since its release. But then again, that is the case with almost all of Toback’s films, even the less successful ones: they grow and evolve and offer new insights long after you’ve initially absorbed them, much less think you understand them. As such it seems appropriate that he has chosen as the subject of his latest film, Tyson, a person who has often been dismissed, oversimplified, or reduced to the sum total of his physicality and sometimes limited expressiveness.

Toback’s Tyson is not merely a portrait for the former boxing champion but a deconstruction – physically, intellectually and spiritually – of a man many have called a monster. I was fortunate enough to sit down recently with Toback at a roundtable interview in Los Angeles, where he not only talked about his unique connection to Tyson, but about the way in which his own evolving artistic style led to revelations about his subject and more importantly himself as well.

You have Tyson talking about his relationship with Robin Givens, although not specifically about the abuse allegations, and he talked about his negative feelings about Don King, but not so much how he got caught up with him the first place. Did you have material on that you cut, or did he not want to go into those [subjects]?

Toback: I didn’t get into anything prosecutorial. The idea of the movie was to create a kind of self-portrait to be transmitted through the prism of the aesthetic sensibility of yours truly. So that was the idea, and what I wanted was to get his view of everything in his own words, and I never, I felt that the way to get him to say the most interesting things about every subject that came up was not to ask direct questions, which would feel so weird given the nature of the way we communicate, but rather let the camera just keep going, and wait until he said everything he could possibly say about whatever subject was at hand. So often I would let, we had two high-def cameras going, five minutes of silence, ten minutes of silence, and then he’ll add something. Then, another three or four minutes of silence, then he’ll add something. So by the end of the movie I had him saying just about everything he would possibly say of interest about every subject that came up. To get into a kind of “what did you think about that?” and “what about this?” and “he said that” and “she said that” would have made him look at me as if I had three heads, and also lose interest in doing it. Because basically the appeal was to be confessional in the same way that somebody who goes – it was a Catholic who goes to the Catholic church because confession is a transforming ritual, and the idea is not to get a priest grilling you on the details of what you’re saying, it’s to give you an opportunity to speak almost as if you were speaking to yourself, and that was the kind of purgative idea behind it.

Were there things you had to cut?

Toback: I didn’t have to cut anything. I mean, I had total control editorially of the movie. There was no one with anything to say about it except me. There were a lot of things that were interesting that I cut because I needed a shape, but that was really my only editorial concern: can I afford to keep this in and keep the rhythm of the movie the way I want it to go, and the shape I want it to go? I mean most of it that I left out that I really liked will be on the DVD. I think I have a good hour’s worth of stuff that I think is just as good as what’s in the movie, or most of what’s in the movie, but it just didn’t fit the way the stuff that’s in [did]. When I did Black and White, there was a scene with Jared Leto and Bijou Phillips which was actually one of the two or three best scenes in the movie and I ended up cutting it because every time it came up, somehow the movie just stopped and it didn’t recover. It lost all of its rhythm and I was embarrassed to see Jared Leto because I knew what he was going to say, and I finally saw him at a party at Brett Ratner’s house a couple of months ago, and he just shook his head. He said, “How could you fucking do that me? It’s just the best scene I’ve ever done in my life. I’ll never do a scene that good and you cut it? How could you fucking cut that scene?” I said, “I know you’re not going to believe it, but the truth is I know it’s a great scene, but…” He said, “How is that possible? What do you mean it stopped the movie?” I said, “It just did.” He said, “No, that’s not true.” I said, “You have no idea how many times I put the scene back in and every time it just fucking backfired.” I didn’t convince him and he’s still – I know he thinks there’s some demonic purpose I had in robbing him of the best scene he did in his career and not letting anybody see it. But there isn’t anything like that that I cut from Tyson, but there are a couple of things that I really – there’s one thing in particular where I felt I really got the prison thing as horrifying as I could, because it was a horrifying experience and I wanted us to feel it, but there were one or two things that were particularly gruesome that I left out, and I just felt, it’s enough. Any more is going to be a mistake.

But that’s one of the things of editing that you learn over a period of time, that there’s a mysterious personality to editing, and you can’t learn it and you can’t be taught it. You can’t study it, you have to have a feel for your own movie and know that certain things have to end now even though – I mean, take a movie like There Will Be Blood, which I think is a very powerful movie with a great performance, but I believe there’s a good 20 minutes of footage that could be taken out of that movie with absolutely no loss whatsoever to the movie. Why? Because I don’t believe however talented Paul Thomas Anderson is, I think he’s a very talented director, that he has that extra dimension quality that some director-editors have of being merciless with their own work, and basically say, “I don’t need that. I don’t need that to go on for another 30 seconds. I don’t need that to go on for another 15 seconds.” And you get to the bone, or maybe you just don’t like that style of filmmaking. I mean, Bertolucci has a lot of great movies that you could lose half an hour from. Maybe it’s because my own weight needs to be removed that I don’t want any extra weight on my movies, so I’m always saying, “do I have to have this? And “do I have to have that?” and I end up trying to get it right down to the bone and this at 90 minutes seemed to be the right length.

Was that how the elliptical editing style came about or was that something you always knew you wanted to do?

Toback: I knew I wanted to do a split screen, moving images and multiple voices. That, I absolutely had to have. There was no way that I felt I could get across the chaos in the mind without using that, and that was just a question of how much to do, when to do it, when to stop it and just let that very powerful, tight image of the face do its work. But those were the things that made it take 12 months to edit the movie – five days of shooting, 12 months of editing, which is an insane ratio.

How difficult is it to juggle the demands of a chronology of events and then telling a compelling story?

Toback: That was again something I kind of felt my way into, because it wasn’t going to work as just straight chronology. But I wanted to keep some sense of starting with early memories and then going to the other stages of his life and career. But, you know, this was the hardest movie to edit but the most fun, because it was the most ambitious. Any movie you start editing with a script is 50 times easier because you have a blueprint, so even if you’ve altered things and changed things when you’re shooting, still you know generally where you’re going. This is only the second documentary I’ve done. I did one called The Big Bang which was similarly difficult because I had 20 people talking about sex, love, madness, crime, and death, and the shape there was very hard to find. But I think this was even more difficult because there I was only dealing with new footage that I shot. Here, I was dealing with new footage that I shot, but also this array of archival footage, primarily the fights, but even then, what fights to put in, what to leave out, what of the fights that were in should be in, and then the post-fight interviews. Several of which are quite fascinating, particularly the one after the McBride fight, well, after the Lewis fight too where he’s holding his little baby there, and then also in the McBride fight when he basically says I don’t want to embarrass the sport, I didn’t really want to fight, I don’t want to fight, I want to apologize to the fans for fighting this way and I don’t have the heart for it anymore, I’ve lost the heart for it, I’m just fighting for the money – all the things a fighter never says. And then saying I don’t think I’ll fight any more and actually sticking to it, probably the only fighter in history who’s retired once and that’s it. Because there are usually eight retirements in most fighters’ lives.

Was there a specific story you were trying to tell?

Toback: Basically, a kind of structure of a tragic figure, someone who starts with nothing, elevates himself to unimaginable heights and then brings himself down by his own behavior and his own flaws. Then in the case of Mike, a double Greek tragedy because he then did it again. He got back up and again brought himself down, all through the classic Greek vice of hubris, overweening pride. A sense that he could do anything and handle anything and most of all, get away with anything.

When did you come up with the idea for this? You directed him in Black and White.

Toback: Right, and it was the next scene in Black and White that triggered this, the one in the gym when Power of Wu Tang Clan asks him whether he should kill Alan Huston’s character because the guy’s about to rat on him. Mike in a reflective way talks about murder and whether it’s a good idea or not and being humiliated in prison. I said, well, that Mike Tyson I could expand into a really interesting self portrait. That’s when I hatched the idea and I proposed it to him that night. He said, “Any time you’re ready.” And six years, seven years later, we finally did it.

Do you see two different Mikes?

Toback: He was a different person after getting out of prison. That’s when he went through madness and when you go through madness, that’s it. How many of you have gone insane? But not really insane. I went insane under LSD for eight days which ended my drug career. This is when I was 19 and a sophomore at Harvard and going on a pretty straightforward, well hardly straightforward, but a non insane course. But once you get out there, everything is different. It’s a kind of club of people who understand that. It’s not an exclusive club and not one you really want to be in because most people either kill themselves or are non functioning for the rest of their lives, or they’re so zonked out on medication that they have a zombie-like aura. But if you get out to that point where you snap and you go over, all of your behavior after that point is explicable in those terms because it’s very hard to maintain even lip service to conventional restraint after that. You might not put your foot in a fire because you know it burns. You might not do something overtly ludicrous but on the other hand you might. You certainly don’t have the normal restraints any more and I think what happened with Mike who was not a restrained person by nature anyway was once he was out there mentally, which happened in prison. He talks about it in the movie. He says, “I went insane” and even in the end, “I am an insane individual.” Those are not said lightly. Those are not said metaphorically. As someone who experienced that, I understand what it means. You can explain it to somebody else but no one else is going to get it the way that someone who has been there gets it.

The first night we met, when he was 19, I told him about my LSD experience and he didn’t get it then. He listened to something that sounded intriguing to him and he was kind of fascinated and curious but he didn’t know what I was talking about because he hadn’t been there yet. When you have been and you manage to stay functional, you almost have to use it if you’re an artist of any kind. That is to say that has to be a subject of your work or you have to do your work through the prism of that or then you’re really going to have a problem because otherwise you’re just telling a lie all the time and you’re doing work that you know is worthless because that’s the subject. I don’t mean just madness but the things that it brings to the front like death and social disorder and chaos and crime. All the things that violate the artificial boundaries that are set up by society and you don’t believe in them after that because they are, it’s like R.D. Lang’s great line which I quote in Harvard Man. “Sanity is a cozy lie.” And we all kind of subscribe to it because it enables us to function but once you lose faith in it, which is what madness is and the voices are unleashed, you can’t believe in it again after that. You can’t even pay lip service to it. That’s what happened to Mike in prison. The first thing he said to me, practically the first thing when I saw him when he came out, first I told him I wanted him to be in Black and White, he said great. Then he said, “You know, I was lying in solitary confinement the 19th month of my incarceration and all of a sudden I said to myself, ‘This is what Toback was talking about. I am now insane.’” He remembered back right to that moment to when he was 19 and I had been describing it.

Do you feel you achieve a greater understanding of these themes through these films?

Toback: Definitely. I do. On the one hand, it’s the only thing I really feel I can do well and that’s important enough to spend my time doing. On the other hand, by doing it I get a deeper and deeper understanding of them and of the connections among people who experience it. I mean, I’ve always felt I had an understanding of Mike because he understood that. Once he understood that better than I ever had before, it was just better than I understood him before. He understood himself better than he had before and he probably understood me better than he had before because it’s one thing to hear somebody talk about it. It’s another thing to experience it. How many of you know about Robert Lowell? Boy oh boy oh boy. How many of you know about Alain Delon? There are certain icons in my life and when I realize people don’t know who they are it makes me feel I’m either getting very old or in a parallel universe. Robert Lowell was probably one of the three of four great American poets of the 20th century although his reputation has been sliding slightly in the last 10 or 15 years. For a while in the ‘70s he was regarded probably as the best living American poet. Anyway, he taught poetry at Harvard and he’d had a series of crackups. I got into his poetry seminar that only took six people. The third class he was talking about Wallace Stevens and just in the middle of a sentence said, “I occasionally have to go over to McLeans” – this rich sort of mental hospital – “and commit myself because something happens. So I’m going to do that now and Peter Taylor or Steven Samuel will come and take over the class. They’re both very good. You’ll be in good hands.” He walked out and he was in McLeans for the next 11 months. It just happened. If you haven’t experienced madness you don’t realize that’s the way it happens.

As T.S. Elliott said in another context, not with a bang but a whimper. The only way to defeat it, not even defeat it, harmonize with it is to accept death and realize death is right around the corner and it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Yes, you might die this afternoon. That’s okay. But not just that’s okay meaning yeah, that’s okay, and then if it happens say, “Wait a minute, I didn’t think you were serious.” But actually that’s okay in a way that you mean that’s okay, so that if you do have to die five seconds later, you say, “I know that. I understand that.” That’s the acceptance of death and if you can’t accept it, you’re going to be vulnerable to that. If you do accept it, you’re not. You finally go with it but that’s why people crack up because they haven’t. I think what happened to Mike in prison was he just really finally instead of fighting death and denying death and being obsessed with it and not knowing how to handle it, basically harmonized with it which is why there’s that passage when he says, “I’m 40 years old. I can’t believe I’m still alive. Who would’ve thought I’d live to 40?” He’s talking about 40 as if it were 80. It’s like a guy who’s survived a massive earthquake and saying, “How am I still here?” Certainly not saying, “Oh my God, I gotta stay alive” but rather whatever happens happens, and meaning it. And that’s on the other hand why he’s free to do all the stuff that he’s doing, both good and bad and crazy and sane, because there is no line stopping him. It’s not a question of putting enforcement in. You could say, “All right, so we’re going to watch you 24 hours a day.” So, then I’ll sneak out and do it somewhere else. The only real answer to it which is the conventional one is to drug people to the point where they are zombies or where you can tell there’s something about them that’s different. What’s different is they’ve been narcotized. They’ve got their chemistry altered.

What does Tyson think of the film?

Toback: The first time he saw it, he said “it’s like a Greek tragedy. The only problem is I’m the subject.” The second time, I think he just started to digest it better, and the third time, which was at Sundance, he actually said when we went to dinner afterward, “people always said that they were afraid of me and I never understood why. Watching the movie tonight, I realized I’m afraid of of this guy.” I think what’s happened is it’s become a deeper, more complex introduction to himself – by himself, of himself, to himself.

So he thinks it’s accurate?

Toback: He thinks it’s accurate, but he also is looking at someone he didn’t really know before. I think he learned a great deal about himself, because a lot of what came out, came out inadvertently. It didn’t come out in a conventional, rational question-and-answer forum, it came out because the cameras kept rolling, and a lot of voices that were buried worked their way to the surface, and through it.

Were you worried at all that this might affect your friendship with Tyson?

Toback: No, I didn’t, and if it did it did. I don’t have any friendships that I would regard as so important that I would jeopardize the seriousness of a movie for them. My movies are much more important to me than my friendships are. I’ve never had a relationship that was a tenth as important as my least important movie. But I would say that the interesting question would be would Mike have been so thrilled as I think he is, or at least happy with the movie, if people hated it instead of it instead of responding they way they are. There’s been an unbelievable response to the movie – ten minute ovation at Cannes, five minute ovation at Sundance, an incredible response in all of the q and as. If everybody had booed and hissed, and everybody had said what a piece of sh*t this movie is, I don’t know. I mean, I hope our friendship would still be intact, but who knows? Maybe he would be saying “I can’t believ Toback f*cked up this way and has turned me into this object of even worse horror than was ever imaginable!”

Are you still as interested in a traditional narrative format as you were in the 1980s and ‘90s?

Toback: Um, I think I started not to be with Black and White. That was the first one, and then Harvard Man really took it even farther where I fractured the narrative more. It’s hard for me to take things straight generally the older I get and the more my mind sort of separates itself into different channels, the less interesting I find a straightforward story, a straightforward narrative, a straightforward anything. I think to contradict Nixon, as I get older, I become more and more of a crook. But a crook in the sense of just being crooked as opposed to being straight, if I ever was being straight in the first place, which is unlikely. But I think just the nature of experience is you have more and more over, it doesn’t seem to fit comfortably or even believably with anything that is sequential or logical.

Interview: Bai Ling

In spite of the public’s indefatigable interest in reducing people to their simplest and often least flattering incarnations, it’s undeniable that most people are more complicated and interesting than we’re willing to acknowledge. That said, however, not all of these dismissed or misunderstood people are necessarily different than we think, even if there’s a lot more to them. Bai Ling is the rare type of celebrity who manages to be so much more than the sum total of her exposed body parts, short skirts and public hijinks, and yet manages to be exactly what she seems at the same time – and uniquely, by design.

I was lucky enough to sit down with Ling for more than an hour, initially to discuss her role in the new movie, Crank: High Voltage. In addition to talking about her oddball choices and unique take on this terrifically colorful character, Ling demonstrated that her often idiosyncratic behavior is part of a deliberate philosophical point of view. As it turns out, not only is Ling precisely the person everyone expects her to be, full of weird comments, strange insights and bizarre expressions of her behavior, but a person whom in many ways we should all be a little more like, because she’s true to herself, sincere about her enthusiasm for life, and committed to absorbing tragedy and turning it into triumph.

I understand that Lionsgate isn’t doing a junket for Crank: High Voltage. Why is this a movie that you wanted to do press for, even if it was by yourself?

Ling: Well, first of all, it’s professional for me that any work I’m in I support. It’s sort of in the contract; it’s not emphasized, but the work you do, they request [you do] publicity for it. I think I’m one of the new characters in the movie, which brings some spice to the audience, because my character is crazy so I think it’s something for me that’s just fun. And a lot of times, I do things and I don’t think much. I think sometimes if it’s fun, it’s my work, why not support it? My philosophy or in my mind, I can’t plan anything. So anything I do is spontaneous, I have joy with it, and I don’t care what is the outcome. Lionsgate asked me to support the film, and I just sort of feel like a soldier – and this war is not finished, or the mission is not done yet so I still have to be there. Plus, I like it; you know, a lot of time I don’t watch my movies, so basically the movies I watch are random, and I don’t feel like I need to [see them]. I love real life; to me that’s the real, exciting, mysterious, erotic movie. So when I watch Crank 2, it’s hilarious, stupid, it’s silly, but it’s like a wild roller coaster ride, it’s not really the kind of movie that I like. But it’s fun – after a stressful day at the office, go there and have some fun and laugh at it.

When you saw the finished film, was it different than you expected?

Ling: Actually, I have no expectations of anything. Like with Crank 2, I never watched the [first] movie. With a lot of movies, I don’t know the artist, I don’t know the stars, but when I auditioned for the part, I was flying back and the role is not really written for somebody Asian, so when I got there and read the role, I didn’t prepare. I just made her up, I was on the floor, and just crazy, which was how I acted. I said, wow, this is fun, like when you’re drunk, or you’re jetlagged and you’re not there and you do things that are silly and you don’t even know. That’s what I did. I remember I was on the floor, so I knew it was something fun, and it’s like an art because I am a serious actress. Very serious, like the first work I did in Red Corner and Anna and the King, and the other part is entertainment business, to entertain people and I love that part too. It’s like the wild child in me. The director was totally, totally open to me, and it’s the most crazy, free acting on set, and fun that I’ve ever had. Because in the beginning, of course, it’s coming from them to allow your character to be silly and fun; if they wrote something fun, I’d read it. Then next time, I said, can I try something? Basically I threw out the lines, and things just came to me from out of nowhere and they loved it. Afterward they said, “say whatever you want!” They trusted me, and they wanted me to add things to make it funny. From my own life through the character, I give life to [her].

One time I was supposed to say, “you’re my shiny lunch box” to Jason. I said, “hmm – shiny diaper!” I would come up with these things and it doesn’t make sense at all, but in her character it makes perfect sense. Because, like, Jason saved my character’s life, and from there I said, okay, you saved my life, I’m yours, and she’s like that, so passionate, committed, that she doesn’t care how he responds. No matter if he was angry, he was mad, he liked me or not, I’m there. He’s like “no!” because he’s in a hurry fighting [for] his heart and he’s dying, and he says, “don’t follow me!” And she says, “you need me just like Whitney Houston.” I don’t know if she understands why she says that, but it’s funny, but it’s like Jason eventually needs her to find those bad guys who stole his heart. Basically we’re bound together through the movie and going through the world of craziness; I got bumped and hit by a car but didn’t die. The character is totally from the hood – dirty, drug-addicted, prostituting [herself] somewhere on the streets. I had these high heel shoes, and one heel was gone, so I was [limping] the whole film. So I don’t like to have anticipation for movies because I like to be surprised, and when I saw the movie I was just laughing – it was just hilarious.

The producers were on set when I was shooting Crank 2. When I got the job, I watched the first one, and I think it’s fun. They said, “do you watch your own movies?” I said that normally I don’t care; it’s like I give birth to a child – they have their own lives. But I knew they were going to invite me to the premiere, so I’m going to see the movie anyway. They said, you must see your audition tape for Crank 2; you are crazy, but after hundreds of girls reading the lines, you’re the only one who makes sense of the character. But I never got the tape (laughs).

Is it difficult to analyze or reflect on these experiences when you’re doing interviews or looking back? You seem very ‘present’ in your decision-making process.

Ling: I don’t think about it, but I’m a very spontaneous person. Whatever you ask me or whatever I remember or whatever jumps into my mind, I will just tell you. I’m not an analytical person, I’m emotional, I respond to the moment and spontaneous at heart. I don’t analyze my work, really, like it’s past. It’s yesterday’s story and that has nothing to do with me. I was lucky to be part of it. The future hasn’t arrived yet, so if I remember, I’ll tell you. I would say that these projects is like one of my lovers; no matter how long, two months, three months, they make a mark in your journey. It’s like suddenly I’m walking and I don’t have an umbrella and rain comes, so I was wet; maybe in the beginning I felt unpleasant, but maybe now I think, that’s kind of sexy. That’s how I take life. I think everything to me is a gift at that moment.

Do you find that you don’t say no to things very often?

Ling: No, I say no. And of course, I have managers who tell me – if it’s a bad thing, I will probably never hear of it. If I’ve heard about it there’s some value there. I’ll read it, and then we’ll talk about it. Normally, if it’s really not good, I’m still not doing it, because it’s still an art form to me.

How do you derive satisfaction from these experiences? Is the experience satisfying enough that the rest of the film or how well it performs doesn’t matter?

Ling: Most of the time I’m not satisfied in the depths of art. In terms of art, I think I’m a naturally-born, very talented actress. I have that gift, I’ve never learned acting in my life, and when I act, people think for me that is the truth – I don’t act. That’s why I am good. It’s supposed to be life, to portray life, so it’s very easy. I don’t struggle, I’m not afraid, so in those terms I feel other roles that I’ve done are too small. For example, I would like to work with the director of Slumdog Millionaire, I’ve always liked Steven Soderbergh, so like those artists, those directors, and I hope you can help me [carry] across the message to a lot of brilliant directors in Hollywood. Because I can make them proud, I can make magic; I can make the role become magic. I have this magical power to inspire and affect people, to make Hollywood moviegoers to remember. Like Red Corner, that role, like Anna and the King, they’re very small on paper, like Southland Tales, I’ve created something. I would like to have a leading role where I can really show my magic, which I think is why I’m here in Hollywood. Because I have the initiative, and my heart is so pure and have fire open to it and want to create, it seems like there’s an [opportunity] for art, but I need a good platform to shine as an artist. So that’s something I’m not satisfied at all about. Other than that, I think I’m pretty lucky I continue working. I work and have met so many [people] like Jason and the two young directors [of Crank 2], in Love Ranch, Helen Mirren and Joe Pesci and Taylor Hackford, and all of these people I worked with before, I think I’m pretty lucky. Good question! Because I’ve never really reached that area to talk about with other people.

Do projects mostly get filtered through your managers, or how active a role do you have in picking roles?

Ling: I don’t have a format, or a certain way. I get a lot of offers, except that the roles are not written for an Asian [actor], like Crank 2, and I have to audition for them. But I’m open to it. I don’t have a format for anything. I think if your heart is pure and your intentions are pure, I think eventually you will find an equally pure art format that you’re looking for. It’s like your dream will come true. I just firmly believe in that. That’s why I come to this country where I don’t know anybody, I don’t have money, I don’t speak English, I don’t know anybody in Hollywood. It’s fate. It’s just that pure heart of something I want to give, and it doesn’t matter what they say. Like at first I was first in New York, I remember I was eating in a restaurant and people would ask me, “what do you want to do?” I said, “I want to be an actress,” and everybody laughed. They I don’t see the obstacles. It’s more like you have to have this child’s heart, because they don’t see the obstacles, or if they see they are not aware, which I’m really glad I was not consciously aware of. I’m like this little girl who’s basically naked, very vulnerable walking in the darkness with all of the danger, the wolves around. But suddenly there’s a beautiful moon up here, and I think as a human being and an artist, I think when the beauty comes through you, you have to be vulnerable. Like people say, “did having this experience make you tougher or stronger?” I say I don’t want to be. I accept sadness or tears because there’s beauty there too, so why not accept it, and have the joy of coming through the experience? I have this romantic, wandering soul, like I’m just [living] moment to moment and not formatted in a certain way, and whatever comes to me, good or bad from other perspectives, for me, it’s a [proof] of life that I’m here in the moment. I have a theory that if I know too much, like in a movie, what I’m going to do, I’m not going to go there. It’s boring to me. I like the un-knowing, the freshness of something. I know the magic that I can create in cinema. Like, children and old people are always the best in movies because they’re pure, they don’t have skills, they’re just there, and when they’re there they smile and it’s joy, and when they’re sad, it’s a hard sadness. It has nothing to do with skill, and that’s something like my acting; I don’t prepare anything, so when I’m acting and alive, it is a moment of magic that happens to me. I gave the best at how I know how to react so that it’s truthful, and that’s something I enjoy. I love the camera, because the camera is like a shark – sometimes it goes beside you silently, but it’s so sharp and truthful because the screen is big, and they make the truth so much more powerful to affect people.

You have a fearlessness whose motivations you’ve already kind of explained, but it seems to sometimes translate to viewers as eccentricity. Do you find that because of that perception of yourself, people expect or call upon you to provide that when you take on a role?

Ling: That’s another good question, how you put that. I think it just invoked me to say something, I hope I don’t lose it. Oh yeah, I learned the word, I don’t know if it’s good or bad, “eccentric.” I said what does that mean? People said it’s good and I said what does it mean, because I don’t really know. What does it mean?

Um, unusual or potentially weird.

Ling: Yeah, so I learned that a lot of journalists or press trash me, and I wanted to say, if you’re daring to trash me, then dare to celebrate me. Do both. Look at all of my work. You know I’m not just that. So I learned, like you said, the fearlessness and braveness of what I do, I came here and just put myself [out there] totally naked – emotionally, physically, whatever way I am. I think that’s really difficult and brave, hard to do because you’re really opening your life, like always taking a breath of fresh air – that’s how you realize you’re alive – and I think the gift that I have is not for me to keep, it’s for me to give. And for me to give, I have to be loyal to who I am; otherwise, you waste your life. Like for me, I feel like you have to be the most truthful, brilliant, honest extreme version of who you are and then you’ll fulfill the purpose of being alive. That’s why I behave this way, because I just want to be the pure me, to show you, whether that’s good or bad according to you.

One time I was in Asia and someone said, be careful when you talk to journalists because they have their agenda, and sometimes they just want to write what they want. I said I don’t really care. When I talk to them, if I’m being careful then I’m not happy. I would be like, yes, no, I would become like a robot. I wouldn’t want to be there. I lived the moment, it doesn’t matter the result – that’s your problem. I’m giving my pure thing. When I’m having fun, this little spirit, she’s crazy, she dresses sexy and having fun and she doesn’t listen to me even. She’s like, “oh, I like red. I like short skirts. My nipples are out – so what? They’re beautiful. They’re sexy. They’re erotic.” That’s her, so I have to let her out, and I have eight spirits, and some of the wise ones and the calm ones say, “why are you doing that?” and she says, “it’s a moment of fun to give joy to others. Why not?” I think she’s right. It’s all from a very innocent point of view of being there, showing you the truth of who we really are.

Is there anything that scares you?

Ling: Not really. Like, I don’t even believe there’s death. Like, in the soul world, my name, Bai Ling, in Chinese Bai is the most simple character, and it means white. It means purity, like innocence. My name Ling, it’s a complicated character, like three witches making soup under a storm. It means complications and mischievousness in the soul world that we don’t even know, no matter how old or how long we live. Those are a combination of my character, very innocent, trusting, and another one is very mysterious and mischievous and carry all this mystery of nature.

Does your ethnicity matter, either in terms of portraying Asians in a particular way, or finding roles that are not defined by their ethnicity?

Ling: I don’t think that way. I think there’s no struggle for me because that is just life itself. It’s all a joy and a fun adventure, and the obstacles are purpose – they are there for me to attack with all of the joy that I have. For example, a lot of people say that Asian women always play someone who’s a sex symbol or a girlfriend, and those are characters too. What’s wrong with that? It’s beautiful; men worship you, and you’re supposed to be that way. Those stories are nothing to object to. I am so free in my mind, I don’t think that way. I don’t even think of myself as an Asian; like, when I was talking to the Asian press for Dumplings, I said, “I don’t think of myself as a Chinese actress.” They said what? I said, I am just one of the creatures in the world; most of the time I look at myself like I’m you. We’re just different animals, and I don’t limit myself. I’m not struggling to try and change [stereotypes]; you can, but I’m just happy that once in a while there’s a brilliant character that I can give myself to. Because we need other artists, and you can’t just have one kind, but you have to trust and believe that and have that pure magic ready when you have that opportunity to shine. I think I’m just lucky to be here do what I love to do. Good question!

Forgive me if I’m re-asking the same question, but do you have people to caution you about your behavior or your choices? Because as interesting as are so many of the things you do, you’ve created a somewhat larger-than-life persona that may limit the way people see you, at least in terms of getting different kinds of roles in the future.

Ling: Real art, I’m talking about the highest form of art, is only for special eyes to recognize. Like Van Gogh: when he died, people recognized his paintings. I trust, I believe that talented directors have seen and already know me, and they will not according to how I look cast me. Because they’re limited then – they’re not very good artists, and they cannot see beyond. When I’m living life, that’s my persona, because most of what’s coming out is pictures captured by the media. I’m normally not like this, I’m not crazy. I’m pretty normal. But the media is supposed to make things larger than life, or extreme, because it’s interesting for people to read and talk about. So when my nipples are showing or I wear short skirts or I’m wearing crazy stuff, I wear a lot beautiful, elegant stuff, but I don’t see pictures. So there’s not much I can do. All I can do is through my movies, if they’re different, or through my blog, I can share something internally, and people know my soul. That’s all I can do, but again. I’m trusting that people will smell the essence of me, and eventually I will have a brilliant opportunity to show my true talent. But those are things you have to be patient with, and in the meantime, I just live my life, because work is work, but life is important. I have to live my life, and sometimes I’m kind of sad, because people say “look at you in that picture,” but then I thought, I am thinking a very positive thing. I’m on earth to serve, so if the craziness can make people laugh, gossip and fulfill their half hour of time, then good – I did a service. You have to have that perspective, generous and to laugh at it, to find the best of it for yourself.

[For more insights into Bai Ling's unique philosophy on life, check out her personal blog: http://ling-bai.blogspot.com/.]

Interview: Ashley Scott

Honesty is a rare quality among actors, since they’re typically paid to lie, even if it’s in the service of uncovering a greater truth. Ashley Scott is a remarkably straightforward, clear-eyed performer, not only acknowledging what she does, but committing to its truth, even when it involves hanging off of a helicopter chassis 20 feet in the air and pretending she’s flying it. At the same time, she doesn’t take herself too seriously, which why she admits (jokingly) to some unconventional methods of creating chemistry with her co-stars.

I recently sat down with Scott in Los Angeles to discuss her role in the new film 12 Rounds, also starring John Cena, and involving one of those helicopter chassis. In addition to talking about tackling the challenges of action movies, she talked about her own beginnings in Hollywood, and what it means for her to continue to find work as an actor and artist.

When we spoke earlier you said you were doing ADR (re-recording) work. Was that for 12 Rounds?

Ashley Scott: I’m doing ADR for CSI: Miami. I did an episode. It was interesting working on that set. I knew the first A.D. well – he did Birds of Prey with me, actually. So that was really fun getting to work with him, and David Caruso has a very interesting – his techniques are [interesting]. He’s a real ‘actor’, so it was a ball.

When somebody has their own process like that, how does that affect the set or the way you do your job?

Scott: I’m not talking about David Caruso, but I just have a real low tolerance for people that feel like they’re better than [other people] because they’re actors. I think that everyone on set, from craft service to the producers, I think we’re all a team, we’re all that machine trying to make the best product possible. All of us are the same, so I have a really hard time when I feel like someone’s got an air about them, or they’re demanding, or they have attitude. When there’s an actor who’s doing their own techniques and they’re immersed in their own head, I think that’s fine. I respect that – everyone’s got their own way, and I’m a little bit more relaxed.

How did you get into acting in the first place?

Scott: It’s such a crazy story. I was modeling – I dropped out of high school, went to New York, started modeling when I was 16, and I modeled for many years. I think I was about 22 and I was doing a job in Sevilla, Spain, and I was sitting listening to my walkman, and I looked over and there was this girl standing there and smiling and I was like, “oh my God. I’m a clothes hanger.” It just hit me all of a sudden. And I loved modeling; I did it for many years, I made a ton of money, I got to travel all over the world and it was not a bad job, and it was a wonderful way for me to learn. I didn’t go the conventional route. And I remember praying, and I’m not a crazy Christian, but I have my relationship [with God], and I prayed, Lord, I don’t know where you want me, or what you want me to do. I dropped out of high school and I wasn’t making good grades when I was in high school; I’m severely dyslexic so for me that was just miserable. But I thought about teaching, something, and I just had kind of a crazy moment in time where everything stopped, and two weeks later I did a job in Phoenix, Arizona. I was living in Paris at the time, but I came out, and my model agent called me and said, “will you go in? They’re reading models for this movie called S1mone that Al Pacino is doing. I’m like, okay, I guess, but to read a menu to you back then, I was in tears. Reading was really scary for me, and I wasn’t good at it. I didn’t think I was smart, and I was really down in the dumps when it came to stuff like that. But I remembered the prayer, and I really think when you ask God, or you really open up, you get to hear the answers, and the answers came. And I went in and I studied it for days and days, and they asked me to stay another week and asked me to stay another week. Two weeks later I was sitting in a room with Al Pacino reading the script, and I got a call that night saying, “we’re not going to go with you. We’re going with the other girl.” But the director, and not in a creepy way, was like, “I want you to go in and see this agency. You’re really good and you should do this.” I went into Endeavor and I kind of interviewed them; I didn’t know how it all worked. They hired me and then [Steven] Spielberg booked me on A.I. that next week off of my tape from the S1mone thing. And then we kind of fooled everybody; my agents were smart, because when I was reading for things, they were like, “oh, Spielberg just booked her,” which was true but little did they know I had one line. So then I got Dark Angel, and by the time the movie came out and realized I only had one line, I already had another job, so it was good. So it just kind of came to me, and I know how lucky I am. It’s a tough, tough business and I got very lucky. I was really fortunate, and I’ve just been working ever since.

Do you have a process you undertake each time you work on a new role?

Scott: I really kind of just figured it out on my own, and I don’t know if it’s the right way, but I do a lot of character background by myself. Basically, that’s my favorite part – getting a pen out and after reading the script and getting what I can out of what they’ve written for her, doing an intensive background study on this woman. I get to create her any way I want! I get to create, and that’s really my favorite part. I don’t know if it really helps, I mean, I think it helps, but it works for me and I kind of get to know this person. I definitely find when I have to get into really tough things, things where I have to get emotional and upset, I kind of go into my own pain, which affects me. I should probably go learn a different technique (laughs), because it upsets me for days. But it’s the way I work; I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but I love people, I love women, I just love to study them, and it’s really cool that I get to do that for a living.

What sort of background did you create for your character in 12 Rounds?

Scott: Molly Porter? I had an entire folder, a three ring binder. I must have had 20 pages of sh*t about Molly Porter – where she came from, her background, how she was in the Air Force. I brought it to Renny and Josh and said, “let me just read you a couple of things” and broke it all down for them. They were like, “cool – alright. We’re going to give them the job because we feel sorry for her for doing so much work.” (laughs)

After you do all of that work, how much of that do you keep with you on the set? It seems like it might be equally important at some level to be present in the moment. How do you juggle that?

Scott: I think it is in you. Just because of the time that I spent, I created it myself, and it wasn’t handed to me, those emotions and her past become part of mine. So it’s easy to keep that with me. I turn it on when it’s time to turn it on; I don’t hold it with me all day like some actors do.

Was there something that you built her character around?

Scott: She was a medevac pilot, so that was kind of a point to grow from there. Her career is pretty spectacular and that’s amazing, but she was a medevac pilot and she had her own life, and she was strong and smart and I just kind of went from there. I think I wrote that she met John on the site of a crash, basically; she was there, obviously, picking up a patient, and he was there on the job, and I remember writing that. She was in the Air Force before that. 12 Rounds was fun for me. I love doing action; it’s really my favorite thing. It’s filled with action, literally it’s like nonstop, which is exciting; it kind of keeps your heart racing. I think John did a really good job – he was all for it, and put his heart and soul into the performance.

That said, in a given movie, is it enough for you to be happy with just your performance to feel like that was a satisfying experience?

Scott: You hit the nail on the head. I absolutely feel as long as I know that I went in there and did the best job I could and respected and honored the character I was gifted with, I can walk away feeling fulfilled and very happy about the experience. I’m so new, still, and I’m learning something new every time I go on an audition or go do a job, whether it’s [for] Spielberg or Renny or whoever. Like, I learned so much from Shemar Moore on Birds of Prey; he had been acting for 100 years and he was schooled and like finished, and he taught me a lot about acting in a 13-episode experience. It wasn’t necessarily the best show on television; I certainly liked it, but what I walked away with from that is priceless.

What’s your experience been with the fanboy audience, since you were on Birds of Prey and Dark Angel?

Scott: Like Comic-Con? I love it. It’s so me. I love that people get so into it. I mean, I don’t know anything about comic books compared to people that know about comic books. I am not that cool, and I did my best when I was on Birds of Prey to learn as much as I could about Batman and Catwoman because fans were so diehard. They knew everything about Helena Kyle’s background; but I learn a lot from those guys, and it’s awesome.

I hear there’s a campaign being mounted to keep Jericho on the air.

Scott: They’re been doing that since the day we aired (laughs). I mean, our fans have been incredibly supportive – I mean, moreso than any experience I’ve ever had. It was such a grassroots campaign to get the show back on the air, it was just amazing. I mean, I just thought it was so empowering for these fans because they got us back on the air because of their hard work. It was so cool to watch them, so Jericho was a whole different experience. Just like I said, I was so proud; it was like we were fighting the man, and it’s cool to be a part of that.

I heard they were trying to do it yet again.

Scott: Yes, they were trying to do it again, but ideally what I think would be a smart choice, and I wish Jon Turtletaub would jump on it, and I’m sure he would because I know it would make him money, is to make a movie and give us a beginning and an end. Give the fans what they want. We had nine million viewers every week, and that wasn’t enough to put us over the top. I think if they made a movie, it would be so cool, and I think everybody would be psyched about it. But they’ll probably recast me with Amber Valetta, or, I don’t know – who’s a blonde? If they recast me, they’d better put like Meryl Streep (laughs). I couldn’t be mad, I’d just be like, could I be your assistant for the year?

What would you like for that movie to be?

Scott: I’d like to be hired for the trilogy (laughs). That would be ideal. They’ve already signed a comic book deal, so there’s going to be comic books. And yeah, I’d love to see them make a movie, because I’d love to see the fans get what they want, and I think it’s closure and just a little bit more fun. I think the creators are super bright and they write great television, and I hate to see it go to waste.

Does it matter if you wouldn’t do something, if the character would?

Scott: You have to be completely selfless when you take on a character, and open. You’re learning about a new relationship, you have to go with everything. You’re learning something new about that person, and maybe it’s not your type, your thing or what you would do, but it’s not you. If anything, you want to try to get away from you. I think there’s an element of every character where there’s something in me that’s in them. I don’t know if it’s just the way it comes together, or there’s something [the filmmakers] see in you that’s in them, but there’s always something. Maybe it’s because I haven’t acted enough and played a role that’s completely not me, but you have to be selfless and allow that person to be who she is.

It is hard to let go of a degree of self-consciousness? Because if you’re in a situation in a movie that isn’t realistic to you, you might have to say a line of dialogue that is heightened or silly. How tough is it to buy into what you’re doing?

Scott: I mean, you have moments. The day that you were there, we were up in a homemade helicopter with green screen all around in a studio, and I’m supposed to be freaking out while I’m trying to fly a helicopter. I don’t know how to fly a helicopter; I took a few lessons to get the job or to understand what she’s doing. But yeah, you have moments of really intense action, moments when you’re in a make-believe setting, and you’ve got to get your heart rate up and do your thing. Sometimes it seems a little hokey, like, what am I doing? This is my job? Those are kind of hard moments where I’ve got to get into the mood and really put myself there; that’s definitely more challenging than a moment of emotion when you’re having to share something with another person. That comes to me easier than those fast-action moments.

How was it working with Renny Harlin?

Scott: He was great. Renny was really good. He was really professional, he was very fair, he wasn’t screaming and yelling at anybody, and he was such a team player. He was focused, he was well prepared. I found him really enjoyable to work with.

They say you can’t manufacture chemistry between co-stars, but how do you create a sense of intimacy in a movie like this where you might not spend that much time together on screen?

Scott: Well, we have sex, and then after that, we… (laughs). No, John and I, it doesn’t always work that way, but we had a chemistry read before I got the part. I got in a room with him and just did a scene. It’s just the way it works. I mean, I’ve been lucky enough to work with men and women that I’ve had really good chemistry with; I get along with most people anyway naturally, but I got lucky. He and I got along really well, and I really honored and respected his dedication to be a good actor, and the same with Dwayne [Johnson when I did Walking Tall]. They knew the world that they were coming from, so they really gave it their best shot, and I respected that. And that’s sexy, and it becomes something that is of interest. John and I had really good chemistry, we really got along well, and it was nice to work with him. I think when I work with someone who is really dedicated and really gives it their best, because I give it my best, and when I see that in another person it’s attractive.

What are you doing next?

Scott: I’m trying to get a job (laughs). Back to the drawing board. I mean, it’s tough, it’s really tough right now in everyone’s business. I go on auditions now, and during pilot season you usually get like 30 scripts to start, and you get to kind of pick and choose which ones you like, and you go out for it, so you would go to an audition and there would be like six other girls. Now, there’s 36 girls, and they’re all like, we don’t care, we want a job. Everybody is really hungry for work, so it’s really difficult. We’re feeling it in Hollywood just as much as everyone else is across the country. So I’m trying to save my money and bide my time until the next job comes along.

Howard The Suck: Should anyone other than its makers defend Lucas’ biggest bomb?

On the new Special Edition DVD for Howard the Duck, co-screenwriter Gloria Katz says that the film is only now ready to be appreciated for what it is. “George [Lucas] for years said, just wait,” Katz explains. “25 years from now it will be rediscovered, and it will look really good for its time period. And that’s sort of what happened.”

Co-written and directed by Willard Huyck (American Graffiti) and based on the comic book of the same name by Steve Gerber, Howard the Duck was George Lucas’ $30 million pet project released theatrically in 1986 to a grand total of $15 million in box office receipts and almost universal critical derision. Precisely because of this critical and commercial failure, the film never saw a legitimate DVD release until March 10. But now that Hollywood has found so much success adapting comic book properties to the big screen, the question arises whether the film was merely a victim of bad timing during its original release, or is just a genuinely awful movie whose merits no amount of hindsight can repair.

According to bonus materials included on the new Special Edition DVD, the cast and filmmakers suggest that the film was always meant to be an oddball adventure. Katz says, “[George] said it was very funny, and he thought it was kind of film noir with this absurdist element. By the early ‘80s, we began to think, as ridiculous as this idea sounds, maybe there is something that would be very entertaining and very unusual.” The film follows the adventures of Howard T. Duck, a white-feathered fowl who gets plucked from his apartment on Duckworld and transported to Cleveland, OH, where he crosses paths with an aspiring singer named Beverly (Lea Thompson).

Katz reveals why they opened the film with an expository scene establishing how he arrives on Earth: “We didn’t really want to explain why Howard ended up on Earth,” she says. “But everybody in the movie business being very literal, you have to start from Duckworld. We were sort of resistant to that, but we had no choice.” Huyck adds that the sequence was faithful to Gerber’s source material. “We actually used quite a bit of the original story of how Howard arrived from the Steve Gerber comic, and there was always sort of goofy humor, and yet there would be suspenseful, darker elements too. So we incorporated all of those, and it was a juggling act.”

Ironically, this seems to be one of the least problematic sequences in the film. While the literal process of transporting Howard to Earth goes unexplained, it establishes that the film is conceived as broad science fiction, and indicates that what happens next won’t likely make logical sense. But there is a difference between understanding that a movie isn’t serious and being unable to take it seriously as an audience member; Howard the Duck crosses that line early when Howard attacks a human adversary twice his height and quips, “no one laughs at a master of quack fu!”

Katz suggests that the film was a ride, and you simply had to go with it in order to appreciate its design. “You either had to accept the artifice, or it wasn’t going to work for you,” she says. But its problems are not in its conception, but in its execution, which is why it remains as rancid and unwatchable now as on the day it was released. Almost every scene drags on twice as long as it should, and the tone veers wildly between camp and complete seriousness, albeit seemingly never as a deliberate choice. Worse, the characters seem unable to acknowledge the absurdity of its premise, even during scenes in which they are confronted with developments that they initiated.

For example, Howard meets a nerdy scientist named Phil (Tim Robbins) who explains that he arrived on Earth when a massive scientific device opened up a portal between their planets. During the process of returning him to his homeworld, something goes wrong, and Phil’s mentor Dr. Jenning (Jeffrey Jones) complains almost immediately that something is inside him, eating away at his organs and taking over his body. During an unnecessarily long and badly-executed chase scene, Jenning continues to talk about how his body is slowly being taken over by this yet-to-be-determined entity. At no point in the scene does Beverly or Howard believe or really listen to him as he goes through the excruciating pain of becoming possessed, despite the fact that they are both obviously aware that extraterrestrial beings (like, say, Howard) can come through this machine and descend upon the planet.

For her part, Katz reduces the film to its simplest essence in order to describe its appeal. “I don’t know if it was before its time or misunderstood, but this is a movie about a duck from outer space. It’s not supposed to be an existential experience. We’re supposed to have fun with the concept, but for some reason reviewers weren’t able to get over that problem.” However, Katz’ description of what other filmmakers would call suspension of disbelief is not the “problem” with Howard the Duck. The problem is it’s a very, very bad film, written, directed and edited poorly. Huyck admitted that he recognized the film’s potential for failure even during shooting. “It’s very difficult to know what you’ve got,” he says. “As the movie was being finished, everybody was worried. To have this creature that wasn’t a cartoon creature, what would everybody think?”

Huyck, who went on to work with Lucas again on the screenplay for another Lucasfilm bomb, 1994’s Radioland Murders, suggests that some of the critical rancor over the film was meant specifically for the film’s producer. “A lot of the reviews weren’t good,” Huyck says. “It’s hard when you’re a person like George [Lucas] and you’re releasing a film; with a George Lucas production, people expect a lot. On the other hand, critics are also looking for ways to tear down the king.”

Suffice it to say George Lucas is no stranger to bad reviews, whether they’re deserved or not. But whether it’s Lucas’ hand as producer or the mediocrity of Katz and Huyck’s writing and directing that ushered this film towards cinematic infamy, Howard the Duck is as celebrated as it ever deserves to be, and doesn’t need rediscovery or reconsideration as it slowly finds context among the growing canon of films based upon comic book material. That is, unless you’re a member of the contrarian crowd that Lea Thompson suggests might populate its few fans: “It’s for iconoclasts,” she says hopefully. “For people who feel like they’re on the fringe or somehow relate to it, or somehow hate when they’re told, ‘it’s bad’. They go, ‘I’m going to love that!’”

Interview: Garret Dillahunt

Acting is in part an expression of exhibitionism – a desire, or sometimes just an irrepressible impulse to perform for an audience, be that audience a multitude of viewers or just one person. Because of that, the few instances in interviews or conversations in which actors express shyness or self-deprecation often seem inauthentic, the result of another kind of performance. Unlike many who adopt this armor to disguise or deflect their egotism, however, Garret Dillahunt’s humility is resolutely, indisputably the real deal; when he talks about being the last in line for a part, he’s articulating a genuine feeling or acknowledging what he thinks is simply true, rather than practicing false modesty.

It’s especially ironic, then, that this character actor deserves to feel entitled, rather than deferential or dismissive, about his status in Hollywood’s pecking order, and in particular, about his current and future prospects. Dillahunt stars in the disturbing new horror film The Last House on the Left, a remake of Wes Craven’s 1972 film of the same name. He plays Krug, a convict who escapes from police custody only to find himself at the mercy of the parents of a girl he assaulted and left for dead. I recently spoke to Dillahunt over lunch in Burbank, California, where he talked thoughtfully – and perhaps a little too modestly – about the terrific work that he did to bring this movie monster to terrifying life.

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Did the film turn out the way you expected it to?

Garret Dillahunt: Pretty much. I’m worried about that first third. I think it’s pretty brutal. While I think we did a good job at it, that just means it’s believable brutality; it’s not unrealistic. I don’t know what it is, it’s like something takes over almost that gets in the way of your – I don’t want to say taste, but your checks and balances system. Like, “I don’t know if we should be doing this, but let’s do it really good and really hard!” I think we’re in a little bit of denial about it.

What’s your reaction when you first go into something like this, and what do they tell you about the role?

Dillahunt: I don’t get to play this kind of part very often. I don’t get to be the baddest badass, I get to be the twisted one. This guy’s twisted and bad, so to me it just looked like a real good acting challenge, a departure from the last thing. If a Terminator has no emotions, this guy has like all of his at once. I just thought it was a challenge, but sometimes you wonder what the value of what you’re putting out into the world is. I hope people will… I don’t know. Wes [Craven] said an interesting thing and I kind of agree with him, and I’m not saying this is what we set out to do – it’s not that we intended to make a political movie – but there is a reason people seem to be responding to it so well in general in our test screenings, so emotionally. The original one was partially a response to Vietnam supposedly, and it’s funny, I don’t know if it was a conscious thing, but this is a time where Americans feel very powerless. I’ve said this before, and again I don’t know that’s why we did it, it certainly didn’t enter my mind, but in retrospect I sort of see why it’s speaking so favorably to a lot of people. They’re just tired of it, and they’re angry themselves, and they feel raped by whatever – the government, the economy, some people would say terrorists have invaded our homes, and they want to see some power taken back. I don’t know if that’s what will translate (laughs).

When you’re working on a film like this, are you thinking at all about those themes, or are you more focused on the immediacy of the scene?

Dillahunt: Sure. Not necessarily on this film, but again it might have been the unconscious reason that drew me to it. For me it’s about the story, which I think is an interesting one. The parents do take power, but does it cost? I love the fact that they had moments when they’re looking at each other over Francis’ head at the sink, like, “we’re doing this.” [They’re dealing with] how hard it is to kill someone. It’s not pretty or graceful or slick like they’ve been seeing in the movies all of their lives. They’re like, “if we do this, it’s completely different for us.” I also liked that they were up for the challenge, because I don’t like bullies. The only fights I got in as a kid were with bullies, because I was little and skinny and mad about being skinny and little (laughs). If you really think about it, who takes Krug out is really the first non-injured adults he meets. They’re not prepared for this, they’re not trained fighters, but they have a will. That’s interesting to me.

Was it just the appeal of playing something diametrically opposite from what you’d done before that made you want to do this?

Dillahunt: I don’t get a ton of offers – some, and this was one. That made me nervous, because you think, “if they want me, this must be crap” – you know, self-deprecating thoughts. They sent me the script, and accompanying the script was a film called Hardcore, which was Dennis Iliadis’ first film which he shot in Greece. I was judging everything by the cover at that point, and I was like, “oh they’re offering me this movie and director did this movie called Hardcore? This is going to be softcore… something.” [I came up with] all kinds of reasons not to read the script, and I didn’t know who I was being offered. When I read that, I assumed it would be the dad – I thought it would be Tony’s part, just because they kept describing Krug as a hulking figure, and I [said], “well, that’s not me.” I might be fit, but I’m not hulking (laughs). But when I watched Hardcore, it really surprised me. It looked really fantastic and it opens with this Roman soldier with that thing on their helmets on fire, and he’s kind of spinning through in slow motion while this girl is just sort of looking at him with this benign look. And it was pretty graphic too – it’s about teenage prostitutes in Greece, these two 17-year-old girls who go on a shooting spree, they go nuts after all of this abuse. The sex scenes in that were handled, I guess I’ll say tastefully in that you didn’t really see anything, kind of like ours, but yet you know exactly what’s going on, and when it was not supposed to be appealing it was not appealing.

And then when they said to me, “I want you to be Krug,” I was really surprised, and sort of excited by that. Then I met with Wes because he had final say, of course, and I wore a big padded shirt, and he was fine with it. I think I’m oddly proud of the result; I ultimately don’t know what its value is, but I think it has some. I don’t think it will speak to everybody, but I think it will speak to a lot of people. We all worked our asses off; I think it’s a good group, like we all had something to prove almost. I certainly felt like I did, that I could play that guy. I know Dennis did, it’s his first American film.

What did Dennis and Wes say to you about what or who they wanted Krug to be? Was everything in the script already?

Dillahunt: We had a week of rehearsal, which is surprisingly rare. Actually the script changed a lot. I guess we sort of all found it together. [But] I read up a lot on serial killers and FBI cases, and I sort of pieced together a guy that I found interesting. I’m a big believer in scripts – I love writers, I need them – and I think it’s in the script most of the time. That’s why ours can’t be the same as the original, there’s just no way. If one element is different then the whole thing is different, but it is pretty close. I don’t know if I answered your question but that’s how it kind of evolved.

When you look at a character like this, do you say I want to humanize this guy? It seems like when you have a horror movie monster, that humanizing him can be a double-edged sword. In Rob Zombie’s Halloween remake, for example, they spend an hour offering explanations for him and then just sort of admit, “but he’s crazy.”

Dillahunt: Oh yeah. I did want to – I like that. This isn’t that kind of horror movie. I don’t think it was in ’72 either; it wasn’t in The Virgin Spring. It’s more about the parents, and what they’re willing to do. In general, I’m not that freaked out by things that are just completely impossible, although zombie movies, you could make that case for, and I find them [fascinating]. But the supernatural stuff in general – I don’t know. I feel like stories more terrifying that I feel like might actually happen, for better or worse. That might not be the escapism that a lot of filmgoers want. But it’s where I instinctively go for better or worse as an actor: I try to make him more human, and I love that. Krug has to suffer the consequences, even if you do feel sorry for him. Like, yeah, poor guy, the world has dealt you a sh*t hand, but so what?

Do you come up with a profile or back story about his life, or is it just more important to be present in each scene?

Dillahunt: You have to come up with something, but you have to make sure that the things you come up with are things that you respond to emotionally. Otherwise it’s just biography. Because with a lot of those things, it’s like, okay, that’s what happened to him, but that didn’t make me better. I think it was important with him to do those things; you want to know where [Krug’s son] Justin’s mother is, why doesn’t Justin know the things we do. I think he’s relatively new – we’re catching Krug at a time when he’s just sort of learning to kill, and starting to enjoy it or find it a handy way to deal with trouble. But I think they would be caught in short order if they weren’t killed by the Collingwoods.

How do you preserve a sense of continuity with a role like this given all of the interruptions and downtime that is part of shooting a movie without just staying in character all of the time?

Dillahunt: I guess it’s about creating an atmosphere and a lot of that is up to the director. A lot of that is up to the cast as well. In the best case scenarios, you’re all on the same page, but sometimes you’re not and it’s all up to you to create a place where you can do your work. I’m not one of those who walks around in character, because I think it’s exhausting, and also it’s not really possible. You can do little bits like that, but how am I supposed to walk around like Krug? If I was really doing that, I would be chased by cops, you know what I mean? It’s not really possible. In this case, it was a really good environment all around; it was a place where you weren’t penalized for creating or trying something different. It was an atmosphere where everyone was prepared, so you just needed to know your character and then you could sort of be thrown into any situation.

How difficult was it to shoot the scene involving the sexual assault? It was almost unbearable to watch.

Dillahunt: I worried about that – how much do we actually have to show to tell that same story. It’s not easy. It’s certainly not fun. No sex scene is fun, and that is not that, this is an assault. This is a power game. There should be nothing appealing about it. I remember Dennis said a good thing. I don’t remember the guy’s title, but they were watching dailies in Africa [where the film was shot], and this guy who works for the film company, his job is to load up the dailies for us to show them. I wasn’t there, but on the dailies of that day, he doesn’t know what he’s about to see, and he left the room angry. He said, “I’m offended by this. I don’t want to watch this.” I said to Dennis, “does that make you nervous? That could be our entire audience.” He got very thoughtful and he said, “no, it would make me nervous if people masturbate.” He said it made him happy that it was properly affronting. There’s no end of perverts out there, there probably will be someone who does find it [exciting]. It was awful to do, but by the same token it was probably the most, in a shoot that I felt very focused, this was the most focused day. I felt prepared, ready to do it in as few takes as possible. I think it’s because all of my attention was on Sara [Paxton], as it should be, I think. She’s the one who really has to go to the dark place, and expose a bit of herself figuratively and literally. I’m friends with her, I was friends with her before the shoot, which is not necessarily an advantage because I wanted her to stay my friend after we were done. But I knew that I was going to go there, so it was just be ready, keep my leg in the right place, when we were not shooting, pull her pants up or get a blanket for her. Just make it as least weird as possible. There’s people that take advantage of those situations, I’m sure, and I didn’t want her to think I was one of them.

What for you is the mark of success with each movie or show you appear in? For example, if your goal is to continue making movies and you make one so that it makes money that’s completely valid, but is it enough for you to be happy with your performance in a movie whether or not the movie itself is a success? Do you think the whole movie needs to be good?

Dillahunt: Well, I would certainly like that, but I think in those situations [when a movie is good] everyone is better. I just mean that all I can do is do a good job, but I think it’s a little bit of a cop-out too because there is a way to do your part in creating that environment that I spoke of earlier where everyone can be better. I mean everyone – the cameraman, if you’re in the right state of mind you can excite other people. Those experiences, I like best, but it’s a bit of a disappointment if you hinge your success on the success of the movie. I mean, I loved Jesse James, and I’m really proud of that movie, which by business accounts was a failure. I think that’s unjustified. I just want to be proud of my work, I want to do projects I’m proud of, that I feel have some point, I suppose. I feel like since Deadwood I’ve gotten into that mindset, educated to that, and I want to repeat that. I don’t think that can always happen, but it’s worth striving for.

Come To Your Senses!

Greetings, programs! Welcome to Come To Your Senses, Todd Gilchrist’s one-stop shop for reviews, interviews, and commentary about movies, music, pop culture and more. In addition to links to reviews and articles I post on other websites, you’ll find my own musings about movies new and old, film scores celebrated and forgotten, spectacular singles and lackluster LPs, unforgettable filmgoing experiences, good food, and just plain finding a context for all the stuff we tend to take for granted.

For those unfamiliar with my work, I’ve been a critic and reporter since 1989, when The Abyss galvanized my interest both in watching movies and telling people why they’re good or bad. (Track down a copy of Carmel Junior High’s The Paw Print to read that first review, where – no kidding – I describe Cameron’s film as “naïve and idealistic,” setting me on an irreversible path towards pretentiousness.) After running out of ideas (both of them) for political cartoons during my freshman year at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I turned my attention fully to reviews of music and movies at the school’s Daily Tar Heel, eventually amassing a considerable number of writing samples which led to sporadic freelance work for print outlets like Charlotte, NC’s Creative Loafing and later, The Miami New Times.

Two years after moving to Miami to pursue my dream of working as middle-management at a movie theater chain, I transferred to Los Angeles, where I ran into a buddy from my DTH days, Brent Simon, who was editing a weekly paper called Entertainment Today. Soon enough, I secured a number of steady gigs for online sites such as Filmstew.com, Blackfilm.com, and Scifi.com, and in 2005 convinced the folks at IGN Entertainment to hire me as the Editor-in-Chief of IGN DVD. When a colleague departed his position a year and a half later, I transferred to their Movies channel, and stayed there until my departure in December of 2008. Subsequently, I’ve been freelancing for a number of print and online outlets, including H Magazine, MTV Movies Blog, Play Monthly, and the aforementioned Scifi.com, which has been newly re-branded as SCI FI Wire.

While I continue to seek gainful employment from other online and print outlets, Come To Your Senses will serve as a more open forum for articles about lots of different things, including (but not limited to) that list up there in the first paragraph. Soon enough, I’ll be creating specific categories for these different kinds of posts, such as Keeping Score, which will explore the wild, wonderful world of movie soundtracks, and Off The Record, which will catalog some of the random music I buy, find or discover that I think folks should add to their collections. In the meantime, I welcome any suggestions or comments you might have, and encourage you to respond and interact with me when I spark a debate, discussion or just a hilariously angry reaction that we’ll both laugh at later.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for more in the days to come!

Coming soon!