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" Published in the November 2013 issue Interviewed by Cal Fussman, August 23, 2013 On the morning I had to shoot John Wayne, he leaned in to me with a little Jim Beam on his breath \u2014 but sober \u2014 and said, &amp;quot;Oh, they&amp;#039;re going to hate you for this.&amp;quot; I said, &amp;quot;Maybe, but in Berkeley I&amp;#039;m a fucking hero.&amp;quot; He put his arm around me, turned to a set of ninety people, and said, &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s why this prick is in my movie. Because he understands bad guys are funny. Otherwise, we wouldn&amp;#039;t be talking about them 150 years later.&amp;quot; I&amp;#039;d eat broccoli if it had hollandaise sauce on it. I&amp;#039;ve never booed anybody in my whole life. In the arena, they&amp;#039;re doing something I can&amp;#039;t do. You can argue to me about this guy or that guy, but I&amp;#039;ve still never seen Ted Williams again. I forget names. I call a lot of people Bud. It works. My definition of the word fearsome is the house I grew up in. Glencoe, Illinois. It&amp;#039;s gone now. It was fearsome because of who came and went. And for me, not knowing as they passed: Do I bow? Do I dare ask them to shake my hand? My grandfather was one of the first non-Mormon governors of Utah, and secretary of war under FDR. On my mother&amp;#039;s side of the family, one of my uncles, Archibald MacLeish, was quite a noted poet who won three Pulitzers. There were a lot of important people sitting around the dinner table, and I was little Brucey in white gloves \u2014 I pushed my food on my fork to eat, and the white gloves made me stop because they had to be clean. I had to raise my hand to be called upon, and when you raised your hand, you&amp;#039;d better have something interesting to say that captured the table&amp;#039;s imagination. In high school I was a very good runner. I was kind of a star at Penn my freshman year. But we had two or three other guys that were all-Americans. At that level, gifts become involved. And the big guy gives gifts to certain folks that he doesn&amp;#039;t give to others. When I quit college, I was infected with the wonderful malady of going to movies, and I realized that the people on the screen were touching me. Moving me. I said, &amp;quot;Fuck, if I could learn to do that\u2026&amp;quot; Only two sports I won&amp;#039;t bet: boxing, because I don&amp;#039;t trust it, and horse racing, because horses can&amp;#039;t tell me when they don&amp;#039;t feel well. The best thing to make money on is World Cup soccer. Three years ago, I had Uruguay to make it to the final four at 100 to 1. I had just finished They Shoot Horses, Don&amp;#039;t They? and gotten married to Andrea. I wrote my mother a letter and asked her for $500. She wrote back saying, No. The answer is no. You chose the profession that you are in, you were warned how quixotic it would be, and how there was no sign in your growing up that you&amp;#039;d be able to do it. You&amp;#039;re not Gary Cooper. You&amp;#039;re not Gregory Peck. Come back to Chicago, you and Andrea, live in the house, and I&amp;#039;ll put you through Chicago Law School. From that point on, I was done. It&amp;#039;s always a bastard who teaches tort law. Black Sunday is not a bad movie. It&amp;#039;s the only film I made that I wouldn&amp;#039;t make again. Because you could do that \u2014 blow up the Super Bowl. Instead of fucking shit up, make shit up. Everyone who comes to Los Angeles, whether by Greyhound, airplane, car, train, boat, bicycle, or a hobo on foot, has a chance to get in the room. When you&amp;#039;re in that room, you have three fucking minutes. You better leave them with something that will make them lean forward and never forget. Go to the edge of the cliff and do shit that other people won&amp;#039;t do. Then find a way to get it done. I didn&amp;#039;t go to my mother&amp;#039;s funeral. You can see it in Nebraska, in the scene when I go into that old abandoned house where my character grew up and I say, &amp;quot;This is my parents&amp;#039; room. I would have gotten whipped if they caught me in there. I guess there&amp;#039;s no one here who&amp;#039;s going to whip me now.&amp;quot; That&amp;#039;s what I mean when I say that movie is as real as I&amp;#039;ve ever been in a movie. It&amp;#039;s about saying the things you have to say to people before they&amp;#039;re gone. You know what the greatest remedy on earth today is? Nobody ever prints this, but it&amp;#039;s true. It&amp;#039;s not a pill. It&amp;#039;s not a shot. It&amp;#039;s a hug. If I&amp;#039;m boring you, ask the next question. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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