Showing posts with label ICONS_LXG. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ICONS_LXG. Show all posts

Friday, 3 August 2012

ICONS@LXG: Christopher Walken

I could swear that Christopher Walken was from another planet. He has an other-worldliness about him that seems to permeate every role he's every played, and even comes across in the few interviews that I've seen him in. 

But I love watching his movies and he's obviously a very smart and astute guy.
He never seems to answer a question directly, and seems to be in deep thought before offering up any reply. It would be great to engage him in conversation, and God knows where the subject matter would lead. 

Like Connery, and perhaps Caine, no matter what role he plays, Walken always seems to be able to inject part of himself into the character - and still get away with it. So even when he is playing a complete psycho, you can't help but still love the character.

And so, without further ado, some choice, classic left-of-centre words of wisdom from the dancer, actor, thespian, writer, orator - Christopher Walken no less:

Morning is the best time to see movies. 

I remember once, years ago, I was walking out a door — I'd been having a conversation and I was walking out the door, and this guy said to me, "Chris," and I stopped and I turned, and he said, "Be careful." And I never forgot that. And it comes back to me often: Be careful. That was good advice. 

That's supposed to be a fact, that the question mark is originally from an Egyptian hieroglyph that signified a cat walking away. You know, it's the tail. And that symbol meant — well, whatever it is when they're ignoring you.

When I was a kid, there was someone in my family, an adult, and whenever I saw them, they would say, "You got a lotta nerve." From the time I was a little kid, it was always like, "Heh, heh, heh — you got a lotta nerve." I always thought, What does that mean? But then when I got older, I thought that it was an instruction. If you tell a kid something, it sticks. I think I do have a lot of nerve. But, I mean, I think I maybe got it from that person who said it to me. 

My father was a lesson. He had his own bakery, and it was closed one day a week, but he would go anyway. He did it because he really loved his bakery. It wasn't a job.  

I used to love Danish. My father used to make a Boston cream pie. You never see that anymore. Very good.  

Most of the jobs I get are basically very unwholesome people. There's always something wrong with the guy, and sometimes something deeply wrong. I'm tired of that. I tell my agent I want a Fred MacMurray part. I want a part where I have a wife and kids and a dog and a house, and my kids say to me, "What do you think I should do, Dad?" and I say, "Be careful." 

 I always figured that if I'm gonna be playing these people, that there should be this relationship to the audience that is very clear. "That's Chris, and look at Chris having a good time, wanting to take over the world and sink California and shoot everybody in the room" — just so long as they understand that that's Chris on the set having fun. And that Chris wouldn't really do anything like that.  

Golf. My God, that's a mysterious occupation. I know people who are — good friends — who are absolutely smitten, practicing their swing and talking about it. I can understand some sort of sport where your body got a benefit, like marathon running or bicycle racing. That's not golf. And not only that, but the whole business of standing in the sun — my God. That's like torture. 

 I love spaghetti. And I like to cook spaghetti. And I used to eat it every day. I weighed thirty pounds more than I do now. You can't — you can't do that. Ice cream — I love to watch television and eat ice cream. But that's like a ten-year-old. I can't do that anymore. Beer. Beer, spaghetti, ice cream. 

Professional dancers don't go dancing.  

When you're onstage and you know you're bombing, that's very, very scary. Because you know you gotta keep going — you're bombing, but you can't stop. And you know that half an hour from now, you're still gonna be bombing. It takes a thick skin.  

I had an agent when I first got into the movies who said to me, "You're gonna be in Los Angeles now once in a while. If somebody invites you to a party, don't go. Stay in your room, go to the movies." And I have a feeling I know sort of what he meant: Don't show your face around too much. Let 'em be a little glad to see you.  

It all happened when I did The Deer Hunter. Suddenly — I'd already been in show business for thirty years, and nothing much had happened. I mean, I really was laboring in obscurity, and then suddenly this movie. It was kind of infectious, and I really did become rather social. Gregarious. And that lasted, I don't know, ten years.  

Movie scripts are usually pretty loose — things usually change a lot. But not with Quentin. His scripts are absolutely huge. All dialogue. It's all written down. You just learn the lines. It's more like a play.  

Sometimes I look at this watch and I think, There's some guy that puts these little screws in there? There is something about it. I'm not into cars, either, but there is something about a really magnificent car.  

Me and Dennis [Hopper], when we were doing that scene in True Romance, it was hilarious. It really was — including shooting him. All that laughing was real. He was killing me. And all the guys around us — that was a very cracking-up day. 

I like to listen to radio interviews. I got a list of things that if I wasn't so lazy, I would do something about, but the idea of having a radio show — two people talking on the radio is fascinating. I'll bet you there's some college around here — they all have radio stations. I get now that I don't like to go anywhere, so if there was some place down the road — twenty minutes' drive.  

I don't like zoos. Awful.  

They say that the human smile is in fact one of those primordial things — that in fact it's a showing of teeth, that it's a warning. That when we smile, in a primeval way it has to do with fear. 

There's something dangerous about what's funny. Jarring and disconcerting. There is a connection between funny and scary.


If Christopher Walken is indeed from another planet, I'm glad he decided to stay...
 
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Friday, 1 June 2012

ICONS@LXG: Yul Brynner

Every now and then a guy comes along that epitomizes all that it takes to be a gentleman's gentleman. Suave, stylish, impeccably mannered, and yet approachable, and not too sophisticated that he alienates himself from his peers or puts himself on a pedestal...

Call me old-fashioned, but I still look to the mid-20th Century, Golden Era of Hollywood as the origins of what still endures to this day as The Gentleman's Standard.

Cary Grant, Gregory Peck, David Niven - the first that come to mind - all exemplary gentlemen, both on-screen and off, as various biographies and articles have reported. They all seemed to have come from a similar mould, fashioned from values that today may indeed seem quite old-fashioned. In fact their names would probably mean nothing to today's young men, and that's a shame, because they could learn quite a few valuable lessons from them.

Among these gentlemen actors was one who shared many of their qualities but at the same time, broke the mould in more ways than one... And Yul Brynner was his name.












I first saw Yul Brynner on-screen in the film Westworld, a futuristic thriller based around a Wild West-themed  Pleasure World populated by androids assigned to play various roles. Human tourists would visit this resort and live out their cowboy fantasies without the risk of injury or ever losing a gunfight... that is, until nemesis android gunslinger (played by Brynner) gets his wires crossed and acts against his programming, gunning down the helpless tourists and going on a vengeful killing spree.

Brynner was the Terminator before the Terminator was even invented. It was probably the first time in my life that I found myself cheering for the bad guy...

I was just a kid at the time, but I always recall my mother unabashedly singing his praises. Although he was known for the rich timbre of his voice, Brynner didn't even have to open his mouth to make an impression. My mother described him thus; "He stares right through you like a hawk, and he walks soundlessly, like a panther stalking its prey." I think he had that effect on most of the female population at the time...

I could never quite fully understand what she had meant by that until I began to search out and watch Brynner's earlier blockbusters. Westworld was filmed towards the end of his career, but his Hollywood legacy was indeed rich with such classics as The King and I, The Magnificent Seven, and The Ten Commandments.

It was then that I recognized the character of the man. His poise, his demeanor, the sheer confidence with which he carried himself. Yul Brynner had IT, whatever the various definitions of IT may be. And he knew IT.

His life's story is out there in cyberspace to read, to further appreciate his achievements and the landmarks in his life; the great loves, the great tragedies, the highs and the lows... but the essence of the man can truly be seen and summed up at the end of his life.

After a lifetime spent smoking, Brynner was ultimately diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. He knew how much time he had left to live, and spent that little time coming to terms with his condition and preparing himself with dignity. He lead a life with no regrets, save for one:


And even in his lighter moments, the man still had The Look:


The complete package that is and was Yul Brynner is a rarity. He will always remain a Gentleman's Gentleman; an icon to be looked up to and emulated.