IT SHOULDN'T HAPPEN TO A FILM JOURNALIST
Jamie recalls grumpy stars and interview faux pas.
Last week I sat in a hotel room with Viggo Mortensen having a lovely chat about his upcoming film Jauja, an Argentinian western (of sorts) full of great beauty and mystery. It’s a project he’s intensely passionate about, and he made for a charming, erudite companion, offering long, detailed answers while nibbling at biscuits.
Then, 20 minutes in, the conversation turned to The Lord Of The Rings. Mortensen bristled. Anger crept into his voice. He’d made the trip to the UK to discuss his new film, he said, and here we were wasting time talking about movies a decade old (to be fair, I was also getting his views on The Hobbit trilogy, but I wasn’t about to use that as a defence). It was the same in every interview, he lamented – not just for Jauja but for every movie since The Return Of The King. An angry Aragorn is an unnerving prospect. But, to be fair, he quickly regained his composure, offered some fascinating thoughts on all things Tolkien, and even invited me to email him on that very subject should I have more questions.
Such prickly moments in interviews are rare. For while sitting in a suite being grilled by journalist after journalist can’t be the most fun part of the job for filmmakers and actors, they naturally put their best foot forward to promote their movie. Hell, if it’s a film they’re proud of, or if the interviewer possesses a sound knowledge of their work, the conversation might even be a pleasurable experience for both parties – or so we like to tell ourselves. Trust can be built, relationships forged, though objectivity should never be sacrificed and a blinking digicorder is the glue that binds.
But enough about the good experiences. Sure, people sometimes ask me for my favourite interview (Rob Reiner in his offices, watching Stand By Me together) but far more want to know about the disasters. Well, there are awkward interviews (Bob Hoskins was a lovely, lovely bloke but painfully monosyllabic) and tough interviews (Meg Ryan started off dismissive and rude when I talked to her the morning after her infamous Parkinson appearance, but we bonded over Top Gun – she wound up singing ‘Danger Zone’ at me – but very few horror stories.
I have two in 16 years. The first was Joel Schumacher for 8mm. I was 26, just starting out, and the interview went great, or so I thought. Then the PR called time and Schumacher started shouting, accusing me of pressing “hot buttons” ( Batman & Robin) and doing my profession a disservice. (I’ve interviewed him twice since, both good experiences.)
The other is Samuel L. Jackson for a one-page TF chat, where stars were asked such searching questions as “What’s your favourite cheese?” It turned out Sam’s agent hadn’t clued him in. The first three questions were met with sighs, rolled eyes and one-word answers, and the fourth – “Who would win in a fight between a crocodile and a lion?” – was the dealbreaker. Jackson called “Bullshit” and exited the room. I can’t say I blame him.