Movieline

Michael Caine on Harry Brown, Paycheck Roles and Why the British Do Dystopia Best

The grim, almost impossibly violent Harry Brown will no doubt draw endless comparisons to Dirty Harry and other risible exemplars of do-it-yourself crimefighting. But beyond the grit of the British projects where lawless hell descends, the film truly thrives in the quiet dignity afforded by leading man Michael Caine. Even as his ex-Marine title character goes to war against the subculture of hoodlums, addicts, dealers and thieves, the 77-year-old acting legend reinforces the bloodshed with purpose and gravitas. Clearly there's a little something more going on here than just target practice; Brown's mission to restore order is perhaps secondary only to Caine's own to effect change.

Nevertheless, at a glance it's difficult to reconcile the dramatic idea of mowing down an army of gangsters with the actor's personal ambition to see them rehabilitated. He explained the paradox -- among other things, including why Jaws: The Revenge is nothing to be ashamed of -- to Movieline.

First things first: I can't believe you had to follow Courtney Love on The Late Show the other night.

Yeah, I didn't know! I had no idea.

Such injustice. Did you have any encounters with her?

I never saw her. I never saw anybody. I watched her on television. I found it very interesting to watch her talking about being... straight, is it? Or cured?

Rehabbed, I guess.

Rehabbed, yeah. I found it very interesting. And the story about going topless on the desk... I never saw that. She was obviously stoned out of her mind, but she wasn't stoned last night. I thought she was very nice and very sympathetic. I liked her. But I didn't meet her in real life.

I was blown away that they showed the blinking clip from Acting on Film. I seriously used to rent that tape like it was a summer blockbuster. They still teach it in film schools. What's been your relationship with it over the years?

Well, there was a lady in the BBC who did this thing called Master Class. It would be a ballet dancer, an opera singer, a theater producer, a movie director, whatever. She always kept after me -- she kept after me for two years -- to do something on movie acting. And I said, "I can't tell anybody how to do movie acting." I know a bit about how to do it myself, but actually telling someone what to do is very different. And I said, "I don't know anything to tell you to tell anybody." And she said, "Yes you do." And in the end she got on my nerves enough so that that I did it to get rid of her. And what she did was kind of clever, because she got three actors who were all doing plays that I had done. They were all on tour at that time; they were Alfie, Sleuth and Educating Rita. So we took their theatrical performances and turned them into a movie performance. That was the basis of it.

But the most famous thing that came out of it was the eyes and the blinking. What they say when they write about it is that you mustn't blink, but it's not that you mustn't blink. If you want to be strong, you mustn't blink. If you want to be weak, you can blink all you like. Or if you want to be funny; Hugh Grant made a whole funny career out blinking with every word.

So the sense I got from Harry Brown is that it's a social commentary, but--

It is. That's what it is.

What exactly is it a commentary about?

It was a wake-up call, because it was happening -- and I knew it was happening long before I read the script -- and no one was doing anything about this underclass that's being left to rot. Socialists were giving them benefits, and there were 300,000 heroin and crack addicts who were on benefits, too. And then the gang kids, they didn't need any benefits; they were selling drugs and stealing stuff. So this whole underclass had been left to rot. It always worried me because I come from that class. I was a gang member when I was young, but these gangs make us look like Mary Poppins, for Christ's sake. Our drugs were alcohol, and our weapons were our fists. We were always getting broken noses or a couple of teeth knocked out or something. But this drugs, guns and knives is lethal. It's perfectly safe to walk the streets, unless you go there. Then you're in trouble.

We do have a problem there with the youngsters, and I keep reading statistics in the newspapers that we have the most drug abuse in the European Union. Or the most violence and drunkenness in the European Union. You look at that and you're like, "What the f*ck is going on?" The most illegitimate births, the most abortions. You get this picture of this youth that's gone completely wrong. But that's just one section that's been left to rot in a society where the class system is broken down. This is the last vestige of that.

But Harry's response is to fight fire with fire. It's not necessarily the most progressive solution, is it?

No. But the idea of that was, "If you don't do something, then this is what innocent people will do." A reporter said to me yesterday, "Have you ever seen this with a proper audience?" I said, "No." He said, "When you kill those people, they all cheered." And I said, "That's exactly what I'm talking about. That's how far it's gone." You've got to do something, because people are cheering the killing.

I guess it wouldn't be much of a movie if Harry held a gang summit with tea and biscuits.

We're making a movie about the one guy who did something. We're not making a movie about the load of people who didn't do anything. It would be very boring if the people sat indoors and didn't go outside because they were frightened.

Why is it that the British do dystopia so well? Even most of the best American dystopias -- from Blade Runner to The Dark Knight -- are directed by Englishmen.

I think there's a history of it. There's a history of writers, too. For a start you have long, dull winters -- which aren't frightening. You haven't got 10 tons of ice or 12 feet of snow. It's just dull. People sit there and their imaginations start to work. I've always thought this about our writers. If you lived on the beach, you wouldn't be writing this sh*t. You'd be in the water, you'd be sunbathing. Also, it's a literary tradition. We have such a history of writers in Britain; you go to any school and any English course, and you're going to get all of these thrown at you. I think it's great. Christopher [Nolan] with The Dark Knight -- him and his brother Jonathan -- are supreme examples of that. And this young man who wrote this wrote it from his own personal experience. But he lived in an estate in the north of England called Newcastle. What was terrifying for me was that we could bring the whole story to this location, and all we had to do was change the accent. It was the same with each estate. It's quite scary.

I mean, take any extreme scene from the movie. The London Times called it "odious." And you say, "Shoot. They were the very ones who created this. The odor comes from what you did. We're showing you what you did, saying 'Do something about it,' and you're dismissing it as 'odious' instead of informative." We never got through to the people we wanted to get through to. But from a charitable point of view, we did.

I also sensed that you're very proud of the film.

I am. Very proud, indeed, because it's a wake-up call. Also, if you think in terms of a personal thing, I come from that area. When the guys were talking to
me -- a lot of the real kids are in the movie -- and they said, "Where did you come from?" And I said [pointing], "About 500 yards that way." So now I was them. Now they could talk to me. They knew I wouldn't babble them to the police or anything. I wasn't some toffee-nosed, rich... In many cases you've got these black kids talking to an elderly white man as if he was just like them. It was incredible insight into them, and it strengthened my view that prison is not the answer. It's education. I know just from statistics that education is a third of the cost of prison, and much more productive. But then the stupid film critic -- the very people we were aiming at -- calls it "odious," and they never went and saw it.

What can you do?

Nothing you can do. You just hope there's something charitable to come out of it. I did a lot a TV last year in England, and now there are are massive charities that are doing things to help rehabilitate these youngsters. But they were already there; two of the real actors who were in the film had already been rehabilitated by one of these organizations. One of the biggest ones is run by Prince Charles.

What else are you proud of?

I'm proud of my knighthood. It only applies to me; I don't care if other people know about it or whatever. I'm very proud because that's a lifetime achievement that goes way back in my country. Back to King Arthur, in fact. So there is a tradition about it that I love, though I don't insist on anybody calling me "Sir," unless it comes up as it just did. I'm very proud of my family life. I've been married to the same woman for 38, 39 years, somewhere around there. I'm proud of that. My children, and I now have three grandchildren.

Congratulations.

Thank you. Two years ago I didn't have any, then suddenly my daughter had one baby. We said, "That's fantastic." And before we could turn around she had twins. So she had them all in about 18 months. I thought, "Bloody hell! That was quick." But it's lovely. We're completely besotted. I'm a homebody. I write. I'm writing the second part of my autobiography, and then I'll write a fiction story after that. I love writing. I love it. I've gotten used to it.

Is there anything you're ashamed of? Or maybe not so proud of?

Oh, I've never thought of that. [Pauses] Ashamed of... No, not really. I mean, you do bad movies, but you never say, "Listen, this is a really bad movie. I've got to do this."

You're famous for that quote about Jaws: The Revenge -- and I'm paraphrasing -- where you said you haven't seen the film, but you've seen the house it built, and it's beautiful.

Yeah, it built a house for my mother. But when you talk about Jaws: The Revenge... Say we take Batman Begins, and I say to you, "That was a fantastically successful film wasn't it?" And you say, "Yeah, it was. It got good reviews and made a fortune." And I say, "You know why? Because I was the butler in it!" And you'd say, "What a conceited bastard. Who does he think he is? He wasn't on the screen 20 minutes out of two hours. How dare he say that! What about the special effects? Batman? All those wonderful villains? And this conceited bastard thinks..."


Twist that around, you've got exactly the same thing with Jaws: The Revenge. What the f*ck are you asking me about it for? I did 20 minutes in it. I didn't even get lead credit in it. Go to the people who played the lead! You know what I'm saying? If anybody ever brought that up, that's what I'd say. I'd say, "I played small parts in Battle of Britain. I was in A Bridge Too Far." I didn't take any credit for their success. Why should I take the blame for a failure?

Fair enough. So what's left? What do you still want to do?

I just want to write. I have a lot of the basis of a thriller I'd like to write, and I have a couple of other projects I have to keep quiet about. But they're both writing. They're not fiction. But I like writing. You don't have to look your best, you don't have to go anywhere. That's a good idea, writing.

That's why I do it.

Yeah, see? A bunch of lazy sods, we all are. I don't even have to shave. But I was telling my editors about F. Scott Fitzgerald, whom I love. He was always bombed -- he was a bit of an alcoholic. And he would write when he was in his sober moments for two years. Then he'd gather all the bits together and make a novel out of them with his editor. I said that's exactly what I'm doing with my autobiography. Someone says, "How about that time you were with Sean Connery in Man Who Would be King?" I'll write that down. Anyway... Nice talking to you.