Showing posts with label clint eastwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clint eastwood. Show all posts

Friday, 7 May 2010

JOSHUA MALINA Interview.

Joshua Malina is most known for his roles in THE WEST WING and SPORTSNIGHT. If you've never seen those; you'll almost certainly know him from his extensive television work. If not, don't worry-- you're in for a treat. Joshua Malina is, without doubt, one of the most underrated actors in the industry today. And as Malina hopes himself, as we find out in this interview - I am sure that we are going to see a lot more of his genius as a comedic actor and a talented writer in the very near future. If you want to know what it was like when Aaron Sorkin left The West Wing, or you want to know what it's like being a regular on a TV show or even if you want to know what it's like having Clint Eastwood save your acting career -- then read on. Joshua gives us a fascinating and personal insight into the life of a working actor.


KID: Do you remember when you first wanted to be an actor?

JOSHUA MALINA: Very early on in life my greatest ambition was to be a rabbi and a Good Humor man, but after that brief phase it was always "actor" -- probably from the time I was 8 years old or so. As a kid I was really into theater. I grew up in the suburbs of New York. My Dad's best friend was a major Broadway producer, and my dad was involved in a few productions. My mom was a musical theatre star herself in college. So I was always around it. I saw lots of shows in NY. I did camp and school plays, community theater, after-school groups, all that. It was what I liked doing more than anything else. And I always felt like that's what I was -- an actor -- so deciding to pursue it as a career was not a tough decision for me. I was spared the angst that a lot of people experience when deciding to go for it. I had an innate confidence that one way or another, I'd make it as a professional actor.

You began on the stage -- did you always want to do screen work?

I definitely always thought about doing T.V. and movies. I grew up loving great comic film actors: Groucho Marx, Gene Wilder, Chaplin, Walter Matthau, Lucille Ball, Gleason, Art Carney, people like that. I always thought I'd eventually work in front of a camera too. Now I sometimes look at my career and wish I had done more on stage before I sort of became a "T.V. actor." After doing so much theater as an amateur, I really haven't done all that much as a professional. After graduating from college in 1988, I became close friends with Aaron Sorkin, and he cast me in A FEW GOOD MEN, which opened on Broadway in November of 1989. That was literally a dream come true for me. I had fantasized as a kid about being on Broadway, so AFGM was a quest fulfilled and a series of experiences that I'll always treasure. Between the NY production and the national tour, I believe I logged about 750 performances of the show, playing a variety of roles along he way. There's no better substitute training-wise for an actor than a long run in a good play. When I moved to LA in 1992 I did a lot of plays in small theaters, but it wasn't long before my focus became T.V. and film.

Looking at how you started out in film, 'A Few Good Men,' 'In The Line Of Fire,' and 'Malice' - that's a pretty great way to start a career. You were working with some big actors - was it difficult?

Actually, working with actors like Nicholson and Eastwood was not difficult at all. It never struck me as intimidating; I just saw it as an opportunity to watch how they worked. And they couldn't have been nicer. My role in AFGM was teeny-tiny, but Jack was kind and complimentary. And I'm pretty sure Eastwood saved my job for me on IN THE LINE OF FIRE. I had one scene in which I drop him off at LAX. I pull up to the terminal, stop, he gets out, and we have a brief conversation before he walks off. Well, I had never driven a car onscreen before, and my head was spinning with all the information: Start here, drive there, land with your front wheels on the two sandbags, don't look to the left, etc., etc. Add to that the fact that Clint Eastwood was sitting in my passenger seat, and… on the first take I drove about 2 miles an hour, hit my spot, and we played the scene. The director -- Wolfgang Petersen -- yells "Cut," walks over and kindly says in his German-inflected English: "Yeah -- that was a little…wimpy. A little wimpy. Remember, you're a secret service agent. You're tough. You could probably drive a little bit faster." Okay. Take two -- I barrel-ass into frame and jam on the breaks as I hit my sandbags. In my peripheral vision I see Eastwood kind of planing back and forth as he absorbs the force of my short-stop. I immediately hear "Cut!" and someone runs over -- not the director, an AD maybe -- and starts laying in to me: "What are you, nuts?! That's Clint Eastwood you're driving! The star of the movie! You trying to kill him?!" Before I can formulate a response, Eastwood gets out, slams the door, and tells this guy "The director of the film just called this man a 'wimp.'" Of course he's gonna get in there and drive like that. That's what he was told do." How great is that? Clint Eastwood -- my hero. Classic.

I really liked your role as Tim Messick in 'From The Earth To The Moon.' Is it difficult coming into a project where you only have one or two small scenes to do? There must be a different kind of pressure to when you're a regular?

Absolutely. Counter-intuitively, having a smaller part can be more nerve-wracking than a big, meaty one. Early on, I had some roles that were just a line or two. You can really screw yourself up, obsessively running a two-line bit in your head. "From the Earth to the Moon" wasn't really a tiny role, it was basically one nice scene where I'm being interviewed about my part in the space program. I have a good monologue, filled with quite a bit of technical mumbo-jumbo. I count this as one of my strengths as an actor -- the confident recitation of shit I don't understand. When it was time to run the scene for the first time, I walked around the room, figuring out the blocking and said my bit. I finished and the director, Lili Zanuck, says -- in front of the whole crew -- "That sounded like you were just trying to say the words in the right order." Incredibly embarrassing! I had the presence of mind to tell her that that's exactly what I was trying to do, as it was the first time I had ever run a complex scene. The shooting proceeded to go fine, but for me it was an object lesson in bad directing. There's no reason to humiliate or set your actors on edge. To get the best final product you want to create a relaxed, comfortable place for your actors to inhabit. On a related note, Zanuck has gone on to direct only another three episodes of T.V. since 1998, so there you go…

How did 'Sports Night' come about, was the role written for you?

"Sports Night" was Aaron Sorkin's first T.V. pilot and he let me read it early on. I loved it and really wanted to play the role of "Dan Rydell." Josh Charles was ultimately so good as Dan, and most parts I've played are so different from him, that some people can't imagine I was up for the role. In truth, it's my kind of character and I did come close to getting it. I was at Hollywood Park on a poker binge as I waited to hear the news. Aaron called me and told me it wasn't going to happen. I was pretty crushed, but I'm good at bouncing back. I was somewhere in the bouncing back process a couple weeks later when Aaron called and said "Hey, do you remember the role of 'Jeremy?'" In the original script, Jeremy was much younger and had a more peripheral role. Aaron started to pitch me on the idea of his tailoring it to me. I interrupted him and said "Aaron, if you're asking me whether I'm interested, of course! I'll play anything you got for me." Aaron re-wrote the role and I went in to read for Jamie Tarses and Stu Bloomberg at ABC. Felicity Huffman and Sabrina Lloyd had already been cast and in a gesture of kindness I still appreciate, came in to read with me. It was Jeremy's interview scene from the pilot. Twenty years into my career, I am still very poor at auditioning, but this was an easy one. It was an incredibly well-written, brilliantly funny scene that had been created for me. If I couldn't nail this one, I had no excuse. I felt like the audition went great. I walked out into the hall, and a couple minutes later Aaron came charging out, picked me up and held me aloft. I said "Either you're saying I got the job, or you suck at delivering bad news."

What are the challenges of being a regular on a show?

I wish I could tell you it's a big challenge, but it's not. Being a regular on a T.V. series is a very cushy gig: learn the lines, hit your marks, collect big check. Not much to it. Sure, the days can be very long on an hour drama, but that's why they call it "work." I hate whiney actors who piss and moan about how difficult their jobs are. Ditch digging is hard. Television acting is a cakewalk.

I think one of your unique qualities is having a certain humor and charisma about you, and that's something that comes from you, not the character on the page. Is this something you're aware of?

That's an extremely kind thing to say. I appreciate it. I've been fortunate, though, that the characters I've played longest -- "Jeremy" on SPORTS NIGHT and "Will" on THE WEST WING -- were inherently funny on the page. I think there's always a through-line of humor to Aaron's writing. Maybe as a result of that, I am always looking for the comic aspect to whatever role I'm playing.

And whilst I certainly meant that last question as a compliment, I wonder - can it be a limitation? Could you play the role of a President, or a Mafia boss?

I do think I can play a greater variety of roles than I have thus far -- not sure whether President and Mafia boss are among them, though "consigliere" I can do. Typecasting is a real thing, for sure. If you are seen doing one type of role then Hollywood is probably going to look to you for more of that. It cuts both ways too. I'm sure I am on Smarty-Jew-nerd lists, and that helps me get work. But most of us get into acting because we're drawn to the idea of playing an array of characters, and I'm a bit disappointed that I haven't been able to broaden the range of roles I'm offered. I thought I'd come out to LA and book a sitcom, or play the crazy supporting comic guy in films. Hasn't happened. Maybe as I slide further into my 40's, I'll finally become the comic character actor I've always imagined myself to be.

It was great to see you back with Aaron Sorkin in 'The West Wing.' For me, it's the greatest TV show of all time. You came along at an interesting time, only a season before your friend Sorkin, and Tommy Schlamme were to leave the show - what effect did this have on the cast?

It had a big effect on the cast, for sure. It caught everyone by surprise -- bit of a bombshell. I remember the cast being really rocked. There was a big meeting with Tommy and Aaron. There were a lot of tears, and some protestations along the lines of "If you guys go, I don't want to do the show anymore!" On a personal and creative level, I was extremely disappointed to hear they were leaving, but on a career level I was thinking "Easy now, people. I just got here. Let's not do anything rash…" So sure, Tommy is one of the great Producer/Directors out there, and for my money, no one writes like Aaron. But I give credit to John Wells and the writing staff for keeping TWW going as a really great, quality show for the remainder of its run.

There was a definite shift in the writing, and I noticed that a lot in your character. Did it seem different to you?

Yes, character and plot-wise, Will Bailey underwent a real shift. He went off to run the campaign of V.P. "Bingo" Bob Russell -- a move that caused many of The West Wing's hardcore fans to vilify the character. It's funny, I still deal with fans' anger towards Will! It amuses me. Shortly after John Wells took over, he asked me to come talk to him. He explained that he felt that Will's story had played out a bit, and that as an alternative to becoming repetitive, or to writing the character out, they had come up with the "Bingo" Bob scenario. I said "sounds good to me" and left, thankful that John had figured out a way to keep me involved with the show. I come from the school of acting in which you pick up the script, learn your lines, and show up prepared. I don't really think it's my job to weigh in on storylines. And honestly, I don't care much whether my character is good or noble or heroic or a douchebag. My character is the guy who says the things the writers have him say. It's that simple. So, would I have written the same story for Will? Maybe not. Would Aaron Sorkin have written it the same way? Definitely not. But I think the writers continued to write great stuff for me, and that they wrote Will's arc in a plausible way.

Focusing on a few more questions about the life of an actor -- how do you find most of your work?

As I've mentioned earlier, I am -- sadly -- not the King of Auditioning. I'm not sure what it is. I just find the process mortifying. I have a real fear of overacting, and as a result I think I almost always underplay things at auditions. Aspiring actors out there, heed my call: "Underplaying does not get you the job! Make a strong choice and go for it!" Twenty years in, I still need to process this rule myself. In any event, I do occasionally book things in the room, but most of my jobs come in the form of offers from people who know my work already.

Acting is so tough to get in to - what is the difference between someone who makes it and someone who doesn't? Is it luck, or is there a character trait that makes the difference do you think?

Sad fact: There is a huge amount of luck involved. There just is. Subtract my relationship with Aaron Sorkin and I don't know whether I'd be a professional actor. That said, I do believe there are many other factors that contribute. One really important character trait is confidence. So many actors lack it, but if you don't think you're good, why would you expect someone else to be taken with you? You have to believe in your own talent, and let that belief carry you through the avalanche of rejection that comes with pursuing a career in this field.

What is the difference between working on television and film?

I have worked far more in the former, so I'm no expert on the subject. But as far as the work goes, I find them very similar. Acting on camera is acting on camera. It's the trappings that are different. Film work carries a certain attendant glitz with the fancy locations, the premieres, and so on. But television work strikes me as a much better and more stable job for a husband and daddy, which is what I am first and foremost.

What are you currently working on?

I thought you'd never ask! I am extremely excited to be in post-production on a web series for SONY's Crackle.com website. It's called BACKWASH, and I wrote and produced it, and I star in it with Michael Ian Black, Michael Panes, Noah Emmerich, Lindsey Kraft, and Joe Lo Truglio. It also features supporting work from a host of amazing people (most of them old friends): Jon Hamm, Sarah Silverman, Hank Azaria, John Cho, Steven Weber, Jamie-Lynn Sigler, Allison Janney, Dulé Hill, and many more. It's directed by Danny Leiner ("Dude, Where's My Car, "Harold & Kumar"), who is fantastic. It's a 13-part comedy about three losers who inadvertently rob a bank. It's kind of an old-school, slapstick romp. I had an absolute blast making it. It should start airing early this summer. Rather than go on about it here, let me plug my blog. If anyone is interested, they can follow the project here: http://blog.crackle.com/tag/backwash-blog/. I'm also posting a lot of info on Twitter, so please follow if you like: "@JoshMalina."

What else would you like to achieve with your career?

I do want to keep writing, creating material for myself and others. I sold a sitcom pilot to CBS this past season that I wrote with a friend. It didn't ultimately get made, but I'd like to continue pursuing that goal. As I mentioned, I'd really like to establish myself more firmly as a comic actor. I want to find (or create) that balls-out comic role that has thus far eluded me.

Care to share?

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Mixing The Elements, A Post About Not Posting.

I've had this Clint Eastwood blog floating around my brain since Sunday. I wrote a few paragraphs on blogger last night, and I wrote a few paragraphs on my iPhone today when heading towards Camden on the tube. Neither of them really do it any justice. I also wanted to write on the topic of the loneliness of being a creative, and how to gain support to curb that loneliness. I also wanted to write a really epic blog about my wishes to have a new attitude towards the gatekeepers who many upcoming writers/directors/moaners think are squashing their dreams, i.e. "They only want Megan Fox with her tits out, they don't want my little arthouse film about environmentalists which is filmed entirely in pitch black." I want to write about many of these things but also --- I really don't have the energy.

Part of this lack of energy is that I am very tired. Another part, perhaps, is that I haven't quite formulated my ideas for these blogs. So I figured, rather than wait it out; I would blog about not being ready to blog, and maybe I would touch upon some or none of those topics. And then I'd see where we end up.

Clint Eastwood is awesome, by the way. Did you know that? Like, he's really awesome. We really need to start appreciating that he is a truly, truly masterful film director. I'm not sure anyone else out there is currently as consistent as he is right now. He's making some beautiful, thought-provoking films. 'Mystic River,' 'Million Dollar Baby,' 'Changeling,' 'Gran Torino.' Incredible. Clint is awesome.


I think the most amazing thing about his films is how steady they are. They're just completely steady. I don't even know what I mean. Actually, I do know what I mean, I mean they're steady. If I didn't know I wouldn't have written that they're steady. I also wonder if the word steady has been used this many times in a paragraph before, but I am aware that if I keep wondering about this we will steadily fall off topic. Not that this post has any topic.

Please Buy/Rent/Steal a copy of 'Mystic River' and skip to 1hour 22minutes in. It's Sean Penn sitting on the steps of his house, as Tim Robbins is talking to him. Penn's daughter had died a few days back, or about an hour back -- depending on whether you follow DVD running time or actual-in-the-story-time, and Robbins says something to Penn about how his daughter looked really happy (just before she got killed) -- and Penn does this look, and then he does this thing with his lip--- and he looks away and stops himself from crying. This little moment, this little look, is probably the best acting I've ever seen. And it's just a moment. But it makes sense to me that it happened in a Clint Eastwood film.. because he really gives his actors the space to be themselves. To find themselves in a role. Despite the concise and steady nature of all of his films (especially in the last ten years) there's a real freedom to them; which allows the actors to find themselves in their characters. It's incredible. I learned something the other day that I didn't know -- that Clint doesn't say 'action' - he just mumbles something along the lines of, "whenever you're ready." I think that's brilliant, and something I am going to do on future shoots. How can you expect an actor to be natural and truthful in a scene about his dead daughter when someone yells 'Action!'

'Million Dollar Baby' is a great film. It's tone, it's style, it's rhythm, the way the relationships build between the three main characters, played by Clint, Morgan Freeman and Hilary Swank arereally amazing to see. I'm sure the script was great, but the genius is in the direction and the acting. So much is said with looks, or without looks, with words, and without words. It's all in the space between the characters. I have a feeling that Clint could take a script about a guy deciding which paint brush to buy, and he'd be able to make it incredibly profound.

I just realized that by giving myself permission to talk about anything other than my chosen topics, it freed me to write a load about Clint, after all. Thereby is lesson #1 today regarding creativity --- don't let your mind get in the way. Free yourself, give yourself permission to do other stuff, and maybe it'll come after-all.

I was slightly tempted to edit this post and make it a nice, clean, Clint-a-thon, but I kind of like how it's unfolded in this random way.

I went to a Richard Curtis masterclass the other day at the Royal Haymarket theatre the other day. He had some great advice for writers, and for actors. And I've forgotten it all. But let me try to remember................ Actually, I'm popping downstairs for dinner. Meanwhile, hopefully my brain will remember some Richard Curtisisms.

---- Am now back from dinner. Although, I find it hard for you to appreciate the time that has passed. Maybe I should press enter a few more times to suggest that time has passed.






Does that work? Anyways, the loneliness of creativity. Here's what happens, Julie says to you "you're going to be an amazing writer some day!" or Billy says "you have talent, you're going to be the best actor ever!" This belief/support/insane pressure is very good, on the one hand, because people believe in you. But of course, the writing of that script, or the constant auditioning, or the ploughing through months of pre-production paper work is a rather solitary journey. If you write a giant, complex novel, and nobody gives a shit, Only you fail. But Julie and her chubby pink cheeks didn't fail. They just sit there and say "aww, don't worry. You'll still be an amazing writer when you learn to put the full stops in the right place and everything." And you realize, you're lonely.

"Don't forget me when you get an Oscar!" Don't you just love that one. Normally somebody says it after helping you out, maybe by moving a camera bag across the room, or by helping you locate a clapper board that you misplaced in your apartment. So what happens is that you go and Direct your films for twenty three more years; and then when you finally get that well-deserved Oscar, the dude who found your clapper board wants a thank you for their support. That's lonely. That's a lonely twenty three years.

I'm writing this in a sarcastic way, I admit. In truth, that kind of support from people is important, and in many ways helpful. But you also find yourself marginalized, pushed into this position; the lonely position of being the one who has to deliver the goods. It's like when someone has cancer. Everyone rallies around and says "We're in this together," -- but only one person jumps on the operating table.

There's a real loneliness to the journey of fulfilling your creative dreams. Whereas Chubby Cheeked Julie who smells of banana for some strange reason is surrounded by a hundred people who think you're going to be a great writer.

I touched upon something in my last post, about recognizing your milestones, and I think it's a really key thing. You become your own support system. Whatever your achievements, be they short film awards, a large cheque or completing three sentences before dinner, celebrate them, appreciate them. You did well. You did it yourself. Give yourself a pat on the back. We don't do that nearly enough. There is nothing wrong with appreciating what you've achieved, in fact; it's integral to what we do. I have a tendency to finish a project and go straight onto the next one. But to truly learn from our past efforts, we need to see the good in what we've done, not just the negative stuff as pointed by some obese dude with cheese around his mouth who says "there was a cup behind the girls head, then when it cut back it was gone, which is really dumb, you're really dumb, your film stinks, what are you doing." We spend too much time listening to that guy. That guy's not nearly as important as that guy inside you who says "WOW! You're alive, you cleaned the whole kitchen today, picked the kids up from school, and wrote four pages! wow!"

And in the words of the great Forest Gump, "that's all I have to say about that."

Care to share?