Of the many delights of my recent (Fox-underwritten) trip to England for the premiere of Fantastic Mr. Fox, coming into close proximity of comedy demigod Bill Murray -- who voices the character of Badger -- certainly ranked among the greatest. His presence at a roundtable interview was kept something of a will-he-or-won't-he mystery until the very last moment, when, sure enough, there he was. An awed silence swept through the cramped Nags Head Pub, as though we had just glimpsed a unicorn or manticore -- even better, really, since no unicorns or manticores ever starred in Ghostbusters.
Jason Schwartzman kicked things off by having us all laugh heartily at nothing in particular, earning the deep admiration of Murray, who sauntered up to the table with beer in hand, saying, "I know a good fake when I hear it." What followed was a relaxed, frequently hilarious chat about Wes Anderson's film -- a project you could tell had clearly re-energized the reclusive actor. Murray genius was on crystalline display even in these most forced of circumstances. Watch in the video embedded on the next page, as Murray responds to a reporter's question about what makes him "badger-like" by pinching her cheek and mock-threatening, "What did you say?" After the interview, she'd tell me he squeezed so hard her face was still stinging. I consoled her by saying she had a good story for the grandkids.
And there it was: That vague threat of menace -- that touch of madness -- that marbles through his greatest performance and spills frequently into his personal life. In his recent profile of the actor, the London Times's Kevin Maher writes, "The threat of sudden emotional violence is always lurking within." Unlike anyone at our table (and thank god for that), Maher had the stones to ask Murray about McG's recent assertion that he headbutted the director squarely on the forehead during the shooting of Charlie's Angels:
"That's bulls***! That's complete crap!" says Murray, flushing slightly yet maintaining composure. "I don't know why he made that story up. He has a very active imagination." He pauses. The subject seems closed, but then a minor eruption. "No! He deserves to die," he says, coldly staring, without breaking deadpan. "He should be pierced with a lance, not headbutted."
Deadpanned threats of turning the director of Terminator Salvation into a delicious McG-kebab notwithstanding, it's hard to reconcile the mythologized Murray of menace with the one who'd hop behind a bar to pour pints for locals, as pub owner and sons looked on in gape-jawed amazement; or the one effortlessly cracking up a ballroom of stuffy British journalists; or the one demanding to know, before a crowd of 1,600 gala attendees, where the "popcorn is."
Yes, I'm quite happy to report, the real Bill Murray does not disappoint.