GQ, March 2000 DIRECTOR JAMES TOBACK IN A PHONECALL INTERVIEW WITH ROBERT By James Toback It was in the spring of 1985, while searching for an actor to play the lead in The Pick-Up Artist, that I first met Robert Downey Jr. He was 20, with slight gaps between his teeth, a ready, wild laugh, mischievous dark eyes, a graceful sense of movement and a compact but insufficiently toned frame. He was also a witty, fast talker, which was essential for the role. I gave him the part - his first substantial role - after one meeting. No screen test, no reading. I hoped my irrational leap of faith would create confidence in him, which was the one quality I suspected he might hold in short supply. Tight and energetic, Downey fashioned a kinetic performance. He was musical, sly and quick. Still, as we became close friends, it left me frustrated that the darkest corners of his irretrievably twisted personality - his compulsion simultaneously to charm and to deceive - were only fleetingly on display. Indeed, I found he enjoyed being secretive. Eleven years later, I wrote Two Girls and a Guy, to give him room to embody such a character without inhibition. The film provoked a mutual vow to work together whenever possible. I promised that whatever film I was creating, I'd always tell him; "If there is no part there that you want to play, invent one". I made good on that promise in the forthcoming Bland and White, which led to our third collaboration. It was with the question of the origins of his role that I began our conversation. TOBACK: The character Terry Donniker, the gay husband of Brooke Shields in Black and White, who hits on nearly every man he meets - including Mike Tyson - he was your idea. How did you come up with him? DOWNEY: Well, I figured I've played a send-up version of the heterosexual James Toback in The Pick-Up Artist and Two Girls and a Guy. Why don't I now play the gay-hausfrau version of Toback? TOBACK: I'll take that as a compliment. When you hit on Tyson during the improvised party scene, you told him; "I had a dream about you, and in the dream you were holding me". He smacked you and slammed you on the floor. Were you expecting such a physically violent reaction? DOWNEY: Consciously, no. But I was prepared - for the sake of the scene, the character, the movie - to play it through to a dramatic conclusion, no matter what that conclusion might be. TOBACK: Did the smack hurt? DOWNEY: A stage slap from Mike Tyson is like a showel whack from a normally fortified male. TOBACK: Do you want to write and direct when you get out? DOWNEY: Sure. I also want to act more selectively. I look back on my career and I think, I'm afraid the embarrassing has a serious edge on the admirable. TOBACK: Why did you accept roles you knew weren't interesting DOWNEY: Money. Fame. Clothes. When I was 18 and starting as an actor, I certainly intended to be "good". I felt like something of an artist - at least potentially - and I would have been pleased if great and ambitious roles had come my way, exclusively. But prestige and prosperity were my primary goals. And "yes" was always a more immediate means of achieving them than "no". I got lost in materialism. TOBACK: Did you make any New Year's resolutions? DOWNEY: To be a cross between Peter Max and Armand Assante. TOBACK: That being on a serious note, to balance the frivolity of your previous response? DOWNEY: Indeed. But if you want to continue on a "serious" note about life and career, I would say that among my many huge emotional miscalculations was my taking a film career for granted. It is the most awesome privilege to be able to use one's imagination and wit, physicality and musicality, conscious brain and unconscious instinct, in the service of a work that has a chance to move and excite and amuse and delight people all over the world, including long after we´re dead. What a noble calling! And I felt it was just there for me as a kind of given, some sort of inherited birthright - when in reality it's the most magnificent luxury. TOBACK: My take on the feeling, that the film world has on you is that you're the best young - slash - young middle-aged actor - around. DOWNEY: I hope that if what you're saying is true - that I'll have the chance to show some new stuff soon. I've never been so filled with energy and desire. Which lead me to ask; What magnificent role do you have waiting for me? TOBACK: You name it. DOWNEY: Haven't you found that as you get older, time moves exponentially faster and that there's this urgency building to do as much good work as you can as soon as possible, because nothing is guaranteed? It could all just end tomorrow. TOBACK: I've always felt that way, but it's easy to forget. DOWNEY: Well, I'll remind you - it's not something I'll forget. TOBACK: It's that great line from Tennessee Williams in Sweet Bird of Youth. Chance Wayne - Paul Newman, in the greatest performance of his career - is about to be carted off and castrated. He looks past the men who are about to take him away and says: "I didn't ask for your pity, but just for your understanding - not even that, no. Just for your recognition of me in you, and the enemy, time, in us all". DOWNEY: Wow! That's our next movie. TOBACK: Break out today. We'll start tomorrow. DOWNEY: (laughs) You've never wanted to do a remake, have you? TOBACK: Absolutely. But this is different. DOWNEY: Absolutely....Why? TOBACK: Because the movie that was made from the play violated the ending in the most cowardly fashion. After taking a beating to the face - his penis intact - Chance drives off into the night with Heavenly, his only love. We'll do Williams straight. DOWNEY: That's my New Year's resolution: Tennessee Williams straight. TOBACK: Stay well. |