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Robert Towne: Out of Towne

Writer/director Robert Towne, who wrote what many people think is the best screenplay of the last 30 years, Chinatown, talks about everything from how he learned to write by watching Jack Nicholson act to why Billy Crudup ended up playing the role he originally intended for Tom Cruise in his new film Without Limits.

By any standard, Robert Towne, 62, is one of the most influential and sought-after talents in Hollywood. Back when Robert Redford was one of the hottest actors in town, producer Robert Evans said, "I would rather have the next five screenplays from Robert Towne than Robert Redford's next five pictures." That was because Towne, who'd written the Oscar-winning script for Chinatown, which was destined to be one of the most-studied scripts in cinema, invariably created screenplays that breathed drama, subtlety and depth of character--and made for great performances from powerful actors.

Towne is a man who likes to work with friends, and his friends tend to make memorable movies. He worked with Jack Nicholson on The Last Detail, Chinatown, The Missouri Breaks, Drive, He Said, and The Two Jakes. With Warren Beatty he began by doing a rewrite of Bonnie and Clyde, then worked on The Parallax View, Shampoo, Heaven Can Wait, Reds, and Love Affair. For his friend Tom Cruise, he started with_ Days of Thunder_, then did work on The Firm and Mission: Impossible, and now Cruise has produced Without Limits, the story of legendary runner Steve Prefontaine, which Towne wrote and directed. Towne has also had his hand in some three dozen other movies, rewriting scenes or entire scripts, mostly without credit. Though his name may or may not be attached, his signature is on The Tomb of Ligeia (1964), Villa Rides! (1968), The New Centurions (1972), The Yakuza (1975), Marathon Man (1976),_ Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes_ (1984), Swing Shift (1986), 8 Million Ways to Die (1986), Tough Guys Don't Dance (1987) and Frantic (1988). He has directed three of his own screenplays: 1982's Personal Best and 1988's Tequila Sunrise, as well as the new Without Limits.

Towne grew up in San Pedro, California, working summers as a commercial fisherman, dabbling in mortgage banking and even selling houses one summer in the San Fernando Valley. He studied acting with Jeff Corey, where he First met Jack Nicholson, and they both apprenticed with B-Filmmaker Roger Corman. Towne ended up behind the camera rather than in front of it, but making allowances for the differences between a writer and an actor in scale of fame, Towne's renown for finesse with a screenplay is equal to Nicholson's reputation for finesse on the screen itself.

LAWRENCE GROBEL: People outside the industry first heard of you when Francis Coppola accepted his Oscar for The Godfather and thanked you for writing a particularly important scene. Did his acknowledgement surprise you?

ROBERT TOWNE: I knew he was going to do it. Francis had asked if I wanted screenplay credit and I said, "What the fuck for? It was just a scene. When you win the Academy Award, thank me for the scene." Knowing Francis, I knew he'd do it.

Q: Did you know the film was going to be a classic?

A: It was obvious. I'd seen about 75 minutes of the footage and I was stunned. I told Francis it was the greatest footage I'd ever seen in my life. And I could see the look in his eye: he thought I was either a kiss-ass or nuts. He'd been so beaten up by other people during the course of that movie.

Q: What was the scene you wrote?

A: In his novel, Mario Puzo didn't have a scene between Michael and his father passing on the mantle, and Francis felt that their relationship was never going to be resolved without this scene. He had no time to think--he was going to lose Marlon [Brando] and the scene had to be ready for his last day of shooting. So I had to stay up all night to write it.

Q: How did Brando receive it?

A: He was in his makeup chair and he said, "Read it to me." "Read it to you?" "Yeah." "Both parts?" "Yeah." That immediately pissed me off, because I thought, "Well, this fucker's got to know that's an intimidating thing to do to anybody." I made up my mind about one thing: I ain't gonna read this well. [Laughs] Acting for Brando is one mistake I'm not gonna make. I read it and he said, "Read it again." Then he did something that only Tom Cruise has ever done since--he took that scene apart, line by line, pause by pause, word by word. He wanted to know absolutely everything in my head that I could tell him about it.

Q: You've said you believe it takes a certain arrogance to write a screenplay. Why?

A: My grandmother was a gypsy. She was sold to my grandfather. She used to read tea leaves and tell the future. Well, screenwriters have that in common with gypsies--they're trying to predict the future. What's going to happen at some unnamed time and place when people are going to spend upwards of $50 million with actors they don't know, with settings and climactic conditions that nobody knows. And you're saying that this screenplay will be an effective tale, one that will make the investment profitable. That's a level of arrogance that's foolish.

Q: You've compared movies to wars: the guy who becomes an expert is the guy who doesn't get killed.

A: That's right. And it's like a war when it's over: you can't tell whether you've won or lost. It's like trying to tell who did what to whom at an orgy when you were a participant.

Q: You've been through a number of bloody battles, particularly when you directed your first film, Personal Best. There was a writer's strike, you were losing your actors, producer David Geffen was making demands, and you sued Warner Bros. and SAG for breach of fiduciary duty and fraud.

A: I survived, but my life changed forever over Personal Best. If you're dealing with a major studio and also with a billionaire who's hell-bent on opposing you, you're not going to win that battle.

Q: What happened between you and David Geffen?

A: That's a movie--about everything that happened. This much I'll say, and it's not generally known: David had taken over the film during the strike, but I hadn't signed documents with him. The fact is, there had been a deal struck even during the strike where David had been financially covered, and that had not been revealed to me. Assuming at the time that he was at personal risk, I had verbally agreed to two future commitments he had asked from me. [Later] he wanted me to fulfill a contractual commitment that was based upon facts which [I'd found out] were simply untrue. There were rumors he was going to take away the movie until I signed the documents, so I stole the movie. I was accused of many things [at the time], including being a junkie, but I wasn't accused of the one thing that I was--which was a felon.

Q: Have you reconciled with Geffen?

A: We're cordial. You can't afford not to be cordial. David Geffen is too rich to be anything but cordial with.

Q: Was the worst result of all of this that you lost the opportunity to direct your script for Greystoke?

A: Yeah, that's the only really inconsolable event of my professional life.

Q: Do you still feel that Greystoke was the best thing you ever wrote?

A: I don't know. I think it would have been the best film I'd ever done if I'd been able to make it.

Q: Your next stab at directing was Tequila Sunrise with Kurt Russell, Mel Gibson and Michelle Pfeiffer. You've said you hated making it, and you hated looking at it. Why?

A: Tequila is a movie whose parts are better than the whole. There's some fine work--[cinematographer] Conrad Hall's work, Kurt's work, Mel's; even Michelle's is good. Michelle has been vocal about disliking the movie and disliking me.

Q: Why?

A: She wanted to do it, but she questioned why her character had to sleep with the two different male characters. I said, "That's the character." She wanted to change it. At that point I was quite willing to let her go--no harm. But she said she'd do it. The difficulties started there.

Q: Do you feel the end result didn't work?

A: It could have worked better, but I wouldn't attribute that to her performance. The underlying problem with Tequila Sunrise is that for the movie to make sense, either Michelle's character was going to be killed or Mel's character would have to die to prevent it. Like the moth to the flame, he was attracted to that way of life [high-stakes cocaine dealing], and it ends in death. That was always the intent--to show that you can't get away with it. The studio would not allow the movie to end that way. I figured I could make it work [their way], but I don't think I quite did.

Q: What did you discover about directing from these two films?

A: That directing is more feminine than a lot of people think. You're so passive when you're directing. When you're writing, you've got this whole world in your hands, but when you're a director, from the minute you say "Action," you're the only one on the set that doesn't have a job. You are doing nothing but watching. All you're doing is allowing yourself to respond to what's going on in front of your eyes--quickly enough that you're not only able to feel, but to articulate how you feel in time to tell the actors before the next take.

Q: Do you agree with Movieline's assessment of your new film, Without Limits, that runner Steve Prefontaine's story is ultimately about the triumph of losing?

A: It's a very good way of putting it. Here was a guy who didn't win the biggest race of his life, didn't end up with the woman he loved, and died. And yet his life was a triumph. The voyage of self-discovery may end in victory or in defeat, it doesn't matter as long as you squeeze as much living into your life as you can.

Q: Is the heart of the movie about the relationship between Prefontaine and his coach, Bill Bowerman?

A: Oh yes.

Q: Was Donald Sutherland your first choice for Bowerman?

A: No. I didn't want him. I wanted Tommy Lee Jones. And then a number of other people. I knew I wanted Billy Crudup [to play Pre] the minute I laid eyes on him. But I was very lucky, because I don't think I could have had anybody better than Billy and Donald.

Q: You never considered a more recognizable face than Crudup's for Pre?

A: I had seen a couple of people. For silly and not so silly reasons, Tom Cruise was originally going to do it. He loved the story and I wrote the script right after he finished Mission: Impossible. But he said, "I'm in my 30s, I've got a wife and two kids, everybody knows who I am, they're not going to believe I'm 16." And he said, "I do love it and I promise you I will make sure we'll get it done. I'll produce it if you'd like." And indeed, without Tom, this movie wouldn't have had a chance.

Q: When did you first get to know Cruise?

A: On Days of Thunder. We became instantly friendly. Where we really became close was on Mission: Impossible. I was there for five weeks rewriting, and he and I worked by phone and by fax every night. Under that tremendous pressure we really got to know each other. He was just fun. There's nothing like a guy who's a champ under pressure.

Q: What did you think of the film?

A: I liked it. I had warned him, "I don't think it's going to be perfect in five weeks, but it's a start." I was trying to do more than could be done in that time frame.

Q: You're a man who has cultivated friendships with some pretty impressive people--do you consider Cruise among them?

A: The relationship I have with Tom is in some ways the purest I've ever had with anybody. I always feel there's nothing extraneous in my relationship with him.

Q: Do you ever talk about his beliefs or interest in Scientology?

A: If Scientology is what makes Tom Cruise what he is today, I feel about it exactly the way Lincoln felt about Grant and booze: let's give it to my other generals. Any question that I've ever asked Tom regarding our work has been answered with wit, humor and candor. That's all I need to know.

Q: Let's go back to some of your earlier friendships. How close were you with Jack Nicholson back in the '60s?

A: Jack and I were roommates. We were at the same level on the Hollywood food chain, the very bottom. The good-looking girls in our acting class would not go out with us. So we shared dreams and hope for the future. In that sense I was never much closer to anyone than to Jack.

Q: Did you ever predict that Jack's career would exceed his ambitions?

A: Part of my vanity is being able to say that I saw this kid of 18 improvise for the first time and I said to him, "You're gonna be a movie star." And he said, "Yeah?" And I said, "And I'm gonna direct you."

Q: You once said that when you're writing it's hard not to think about Jack even if you're not writing for him.

A: Sure. We were in that class for seven years. I watched him improvise twice a week. I improvised with him. I learned to write as much by watching Jack as anything else. He was so gifted. He drove home the point that what an actor says is not nearly as important as what's behind what he says, the subtext. Also, you could not write a sentence too long for him to say. His cadences were such that he could carry it on and on and it would get funnier and better. Even if I'd say, "I once drilled a whore with a glass eye who would then wink you off," Jack would say "and wink you off for a dollar." Part of it is that his seemingly monotone delivery isn't monotone at all. I learned to listen to other actors' cadences.

Q: Do you agree with what Bob Evans once told me, that Chinatown made Jack's career?

A: Chinatown allowed Jack to take his place in a pantheon of movie stars, in a way, because of the maturity of the part. It suggested both his cruelty and his warmth.

Q: Are you estranged from Nicholson now?

A: Yeah.

Q: Since the failed Chinatown sequel, The Two Jakes?

A: Yeah. Does that affect my admiration for his work or the fondness of my memories of him? Not at all. The Two Jakes wasn't what caused the falling-out. It was all the events that led up to it. Jack and I have been, at different times in our lives, as close as brothers. I loved him so much--I loved his art, I loved his spirit, I loved everything about him. And I know so much about him. I can't honestly sit here and tell you for public consumption what went wrong with our relationship without adopting a posture that would [unfairly] suggest it was his doing and not my doing.

Q: Would you say the same things about Warren Beatty, with whom you were also very close at one time?

A: Yes. Both men have had such powerful influences on my life that what went wrong is much less significant than the years we were friends. With Warren, I became very close on Bonnie and Clyde. I championed that script when 50 directors turned it down. So our closeness began on a professional level, whereas Jack and I began on a personal level. I can say in general that ours is a business where all of us are tempted to confuse the personal with the professional, and a lot of mischief occurs there.

Q: Is fame part of the problem?

A: Yes. I mean, look, you are so close to someone every day of your life and then suddenly they become famous. A year or two will go by and you don't realize you haven't seen them because you're seeing them in everyday life the way the public is seeing them--on TV, in the movies, in magazines. You run into each other and say, "Let's catch up and talk." You think you're the same people, but time has gone by and you're not.

Q: Warren used to be talked about in political circles as a potential candidate. Did you ever think he'd run for office?

A: Warren's skills have always been at their peak as a diplomat rather than as a politician. His is the force of personal persuasion. Get him in a room of his peers and he can dominate. Get him in a public forum and he'll worry about saying the wrong thing.

Q: Who among today's younger actors would you compare the early Nicholson and Beatty?

A: Johnny Depp has something in common with early Jack. Jack started with Roger Corman, not as Warren did in pedigreed plays and with Kazan as his first movie director. Jack was an outsider and Johnny was in 21 Jump Street.

Q: Have you ever wanted to work with Depp?

A: Depp should be one of the biggest movie stars in the world. Everyone seems to know it. The difference between Tom and Johnny is that Johnny's a little vainer than Tom. Johnny does not want to be caught dead in something that looks like he's pleasing an audience. [Laughs] Tom doesn't mind.

Q: You're also close to Kurt Russell.

A: Kurt and I talk often. Both Kurt and Tom are possessed of more physical courage than any two men I've ever met. Tom is more discreet than Kurt--by that I mean his choices are more careful. Tom makes choices that he thinks will work and will be challenging. With Kurt, I have teased, "You're the best actor with the worst taste that I've ever seen." And he laughs. He's a ballplayer who's been obliged to become a movie star now making $10, $15 million a movie, having been derailed in his basic, true job.

Q: Is there anyone you had a preconception about who turned out to be completely different?

A: Bob Evans is an example of a guy you can't believe isn't a flaming asshole [laughs], and he comes to be one of the best people in the world. He's surprisingly insightful and even brilliant on movies.

Q: Back when you were going to be the director on The Two Jakes, which Nicholson eventually took over, you cast Evans, who'd only been a B actor before he made his career as a producer, opposite Nicholson. What were you thinking?

A: Oh jeez ... I cast him because if Bob could have behaved on-screen the way he behaves on any given day of his life without acting, he'd have given one of the great performances of all time. It was my arrogance to think I could get him to behave and not act. But he acted.

Q: Did Evans get angry with you over this?

A: Oh yes. But who gives a fuck? I love Bob. He's got one of the great hearts.

Q: Was it Evans who got Polanski to direct Chinatown?

A: He forced Roman into material Roman might not have picked himself: Rosemary's Baby and Chinatown. Roman [himself] picked Fearless Vampire Killers.

Q: You fought with Polanski over the ending to Chinatown and Polanski prevailed. Who was right?

A: Roman and I have been much misunderstood about this. We both agreed that it ended darkly. The only difference was I felt it was too melodramatic to end it his way. The way I had it figured was just about as dark, but Roman felt it needed that finale. I was wrong and he was right. Roman is one of the most gifted filmmakers of all time. As the years have gone by, I see that he taught me more than anybody. The best working relationship I ever had was with him. By far. He's a giant.

Q: What made Roman so good at narrative?

A: Guts is what makes Roman so good. A willingness to take the time with what other directors consider shoe leather and want to get through quickly. He understands that the credibility of a melodramatic story is to let the guy take his time.

Q: You worked with him on Frantic, which didn't turn out so well.

A: I think it would have been more interesting to make it the story about a man who goes to Paris to honeymoon with his wife to recapture something that had died with his success, then loses his wife literally, and through having an affair, remembers what it was like to love his wife. The affair should have taken place that way, and didn't.

Q: Any impressions of Harrison Ford?

A: I knew Harrison before that. He almost did The Two Jakes. Harrison's a powerful presence, a very careful, cautious, guarded man. One who, in a way that I admire, takes care of himself better than I've been able to take care of myself. He's a good man. I asked him to play the lead in Without Limits. He never read the script. He was in the middle of The Devil's Own and said he just wanted to go home. He's an actor of greater range than his choice of roles would indicate. But he does what he does better than anyone else on earth.

Q: What other writers have influenced you?

A: Like everyone else of my generation, I was profoundly influenced by J.D. Salinger. He was the first guy who used language suggestive of what I heard on the street. He used refrain and a kind of careful imprecision. Behind his constant phrase "If you know what I mean," is an unwillingness to get too specific in communicating. In life, people are very often loathe to say exactly what they mean, even if they can articulate it. Furthermore, we tend to suspect people who are too articulate. Who are the actors who seem to be the ones that we believe? "Yup," John Wayne. Henry Fonda. Gary Cooper. Clint. Monosyllabic guys. We tend to believe they're more honest precisely because their feelings are almost too important to be able to be put into words.

Q: What screenwriters influenced you?

A: One of the great scenes I've ever seen was between van Gogh and Gauguin in James Agee's [unproduced] screenplay Noa Noa. Gauguin was a tough guy who gave up banking and left his family to pursue painting. Van Gogh was in many ways a hothouse flower. There's a scene in which they're painting and a daddy longlegs gets caught in the paint on Gauguin's canvas. When he brushes it away, van Gogh goes to pieces because it loses a leg. He starts to clean the paint off the spider and says, "There, there, it will be all right." Gauguin looks at him and says, "I want to paint your picture." Then there are close-ups of the two men, with van Gogh unable to keep still, knowing he's being judged. Gauguin finishes it and van Gogh asks to see it, and now the shoe is on the other foot, it's Gauguin who is nervous: "What do you think? What do you think?" "Well, Paul, it's very good, but you painted me as if I've already gone mad." That scene floored me, because it depends in its entirety on silences, these two guys and a canvas which you don't really see.

Q: What films have most affected you?

A: Renoir's Grand Illusion. Rules of the Game. Ingmar Bergman's Winter Light, Smiles of a Summer Night and_ The Seventh Seal_. Doctor Zhivago, which one recognizes as very sloppy in terms of detail, but Zhivago and Lawrence of Arabia both moved me. Dr. Strangelove, Paths of Glory and 2001: A Space Odyssey. Giant--I'm always grateful for the strong emotional effect of movies. One of the best movies ever made is Double Indemnity, in terms of just dazzling skills. It ages better than Sunset Blvd., although I like that one very much too. Certainly The Maltese Falcon. I recognize John Ford as wonderful, like Milton, but like John Milton, I'm not drawn to read him. There's one movie in the last five years that's stuck with me: One False Move. It's in a class by itself. When have you ever seen a movie where for 60 percent of it you have no idea who the protagonist is? That's the advantage of a movie without movie stars.

Q: What would you like to see taught to young screenwriters today?

A: The screenwriters I've admired brought other disciplines and other lives to their writing. They worked in other professions, were exposed to walks of life which gave them a broad insight into society. That bleeds into their films, which gives them the vitality that maybe screenwriters who go to cinema school and feed on old movies could use.

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Lawrence Grobel interviewed Wesley Snipes for the August 98 issue of Movieline.