The nepo baby who made good: Rob Reiner on Trump, family – and his brilliant, beloved movies
Where to even start preparing for a Rob Reiner interview? You could rewatch his classic films, of course, namely that phenomenal eight-year streak that started with This Is Spinal Tap in 1984 and blazed through The Sure Thing, Stand By Me, The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally, Misery and A Few Good Men. But even that is barely scratching the surface of a career that first got going in the late 1960s. What about his years as a household name in 70s sitcoms, or his famous comic actor father, Carl, or his unique childhood, in which Mel Brooks and other entertainment luminaries would be frequent guests in the house? And what about the political activism that saw him play important roles in overturning the same-sex marriage ban in California and funnelling higher taxes on cigarettes into programmes for young children and prenatal care?
And, of course, what about the stuff he’s still making, because at 76 Reiner is showing no signs of slowing down. There’s a Spinal Tap sequel in the works, not to mention the reason he’s speaking to me today: a documentary about the rise of Christian nationalism in America. God and Country is chilling but vital viewing, dissecting a movement that has infiltrated American politics and the Republican party to such a degree that Reiner believes it could soon bring about the end of democracy in the US – and potentially the world. Does he really mean that?
“Yes,” he says without a pause when we connect over a video link from New Orleans. “The question at this election is: do we want to continue 249 years of self-rule and American democracy? Or do we want to turn it over to somebody like Donald Trump who has said that he wants to destroy the constitution, go after his political enemies and turn America into an autocracy? We see autocracy making its move around the world. And so if we crumble, there’s a danger that democracy crumbles around the world.”
God and Country covers how the Christian nationalist movement began to gain traction in the 1970s when it latched on to abortion as a focal issue. Back then, evangelicals were not especially partisan about the supreme court’s landmark 1973 Roe v Wade ruling, still largely believing in the separation of church and state enshrined within the US constitution. But through huge funding and smart organisation, abortion was successfully turned into a key religious issue, and the idea began to take shape that democracy itself was an obstacle to God’s plans. In the documentary we see the effects of this: churches turned into partisan political cells, preachers inciting hatred against Democrats, and even tales of pastors carrying guns to their sermons. This brewing violence reached its zenith on 6 January 2021, when supporters of Donald Trump stormed the Capitol building in Washington DC.
“And the foundation for it all was Christian nationalism,” says Reiner, “because finally they had found somebody like Donald Trump who they could funnel their ideas through.”
The irony of all this, of course, is that Trump is the least Christian guy you could ever expect to meet. “I think he can probably spell the word ‘bible’,” agrees Reiner. “I don’t think he’s ever read it and I don’t think he has any idea what’s in it. But they excuse all that by saying God works in mysterious ways, and that he sent us this flawed vessel by which we can achieve the goals that we want to achieve.”
Reiner was a keen Biden supporter in 2020, and despite the criticism around the incumbent president’s age – he will be weeks away from turning 82 when November swings around – this support hasn’t wavered.
“Look, he’s old!” says Reiner, who despite his palpable anger still delivers his rants with comedic zeal, as if the world has gone mad and he’s the last sane person standing. “But you have one guy who stumbles around, whatever. And another guy who’s a criminal, basically lies every minute of his life, has been indicted 91 times!”
Reiner’s hatred of Trump was shared by his father, who had a burning desire to live long enough to see him defeated in 2020. As it happened, Carl died a few months before the election, aged 98. “The man he wanted ended up winning,” says Reiner. “What I don’t think he would have ever believed is that Trump would come back again. It’s like a zombie or a cockroach.”
Liberal politics was always at the forefront of the Reiner household. In the 1950s, the FBI came to their house to ask Carl if he knew any members of the Communist party. “He said: ‘I probably do, but if I did I wouldn’t tell you.’” Meanwhile, his mum, the actor and singer Estelle Reiner (who died in 2008), was an organiser of Another Mother for Peace, a group opposed to the Vietnam war. “You know how people talk about remembering where they were when Kennedy died? Well, I remember where I was when [civil rights activist] Medgar Evers died [in June 1963], because my parents were very active in the civil rights movement.”
Their influence on him is clear: Reiner went on to make 1996’s Ghosts of Mississippi, a movie about the trial of Evers’s killer. Of course, these days, with his gilded roots, Reiner would have faced accusations of being a “nepo baby”, which seems a funny thing to level at a 76-year-old man, but he takes it well.
“If you’re a nepo baby, doors will open,” he says. “But you have to deliver. If you don’t deliver, the door will close just as fast as it opened.”
Reiner says his kids are dealing with it now. “My son is 32 and my daughter’s 26. They both want careers, they’re both talented. Should I lean into it? Should I back away from it? They’re confused. I said, once they find their own path, it won’t matter. I was very conscious when I was carrying out my career that I didn’t rely on [my dad]. I didn’t ask him for money, and if you know in your heart that what you’re doing is true, you can block out all that stuff.”
Reiner often speaks warmly about his relationship with his dad, but although it was always loving, it wasn’t always easy. I remark on how central characters in Reiner’s films often wrestle with such relationships – Tom Cruise’s Lt Daniel Kaffee in A Few Good Men was tormented by the powerful reputation of his father; Stand By Me’s Gordie felt ignored and misunderstood by his. He nods. “I loved my father and he loved me,” he says, “but as a kid growing up, I don’t think he understood me. I was odd to him and I don’t think he quite got me. And so that comes out in those films, particularly in Stand By Me.”
When Reiner was eight, the late family friend and legendary sitcom writer Norman Lear told Carl how funny his son was, to which Carl apparently replied: “That kid? I don’t know. He’s a sullen child.” Another actor, Martin Landau, told Rob that Carl had once confided in him: “Robbie wants to be an actor, and I just don’t know if he can do it.” Carl must have meant what