Interview by Greg Carlson

Hosted by Brent Brandt, legendary actor Stephen Tobolowsky will appear in person at the Fargo Theatre on Thursday, June 11 at 7pm for an evening of engaging stories from his remarkable life. Visit fargotheatre.org for tickets.

 

Greg Carlson: Thanks for taking some time for conversation. And thanks to our mutual friend Brent Brandt for arranging another opportunity for you to visit us in person. We have in Brent such a huge fan and champion of the movies.

Stephen Tobolowsky: Like me, Brent is a big story guy. And Ann and I both love the Dakotas. During our first trip, Brent took us around to all the places. Annie’s from Georgia, I’m from Texas. I love this gorgeous place. And Brent is a great tour guide. He likes to take care of people and find interesting things for them to do.

 

GC: I find it daunting as an interviewer to ask good questions that are fresh or new to you. But as a storyteller and raconteur, you find a way to engage with your audience even if it’s the hundredth time.

ST: I  try. But if you feel like I’m going off the deep end, just wave a flag.

 

GC: Good storytellers are often well-traveled. Many of us who follow your career have heard the tale about the Icelandic misadventure that resulted in you breaking your neck, which led to your podcast “The Tobolowsky Files.” Iceland is a remarkable place for you.

ST: I love Iceland. Ann and I visited the black sand beach with our son William. And while we were walking on the shore, we looked out at the ocean. Right where the waves break, a walrus came up. How many have seen a walrus in nature and not just at the zoo? I could understand how an early man would think, “That’s either a great looking woman or a monster.”

We became familiar enough with Iceland to have our favorite hot dog stand. Annie and I will tell you that if you drive for about two hours outside of Reykjavik, you will have the greatest hot dog ever. I don’t know if it’s worth international travel just for a hot dog, though.

 

GC: I have not been to that hot dog stand, but I do think Reykjavik is a fantastic city.

ST: My favorite moment in Reykjavik was the time I went down the wrong way in the airport. Three officers with guns came out and yelled at me to stop. And then the guy in front goes, “Wait a minute, you’re Ned! It’s OK, Ned.” So being recognized from “Groundhog Day” saved me from arrest.

 

GC: You mentioned your son, William, was traveling with you. You and Ann have two boys. How did you and your wife, both of you writers and performers, raise grounded kids in Los Angeles? 

ST: I don’t know that we did. I think we had all the typical worries you have during the teen years. Are they doing drugs? Are they hanging out with the wrong people? Is this girlfriend good or bad for them? What’s going on here? But when I saw our kids stand up for themselves in a non-confrontational way, I knew that they were going to be OK.

Both of my boys are geniuses. Amazing and off the charts. They’re both married and my eldest has two babies. So Annie and I are grandparents now. If possible, stay alive long enough to become a grandparent. It is the best thing in the world. It is all love and no responsibility. It’s the thing you were always hoping for as a child.

Anyway, it’s a pleasure that our sons have taken over the reins of life. And I couldn’t be more proud of either of those guys. They’re both dear, dear, and they both respect right and hate wrong. They’re super men and they’re married to super women.

 

GC: Was there ever a time when they said, “Mom, Dad, we want to do what you do”? 

ST: Oh, you open the door to my nightmares! Yeah, yes. Both. Young Lord Robert, the eldest son, wanted to be an actor and he ended up playing Oberon in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at his school. And young Lord William had an agent and got eight-by-tens in a leather jacket. But after about two years they said, “Dad, just forget it. I don’t know how you put up with this.” And now, one is an organic chemistry professor and one is a doctor.

 

GC: Correct me if I’m wrong, but you have not yet visited the Criterion Closet.

ST: I have not.

 

GC: I hope someone from Criterion gets an invitation to you, because we would love to see your selections and hear your anecdotes. As one of the screenwriters of Spine #951: “True Stories,” you would make a perfect addition. What are some movies that have inspired you? 

ST: “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,” “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” and “It’s a Wonderful Life.” When I was a student at Southern Methodist University, I was lucky enough to meet Frank Capra. As for later movies, I would add “The Godfather.”

 

GC: Incredible film.

ST: It really is. “The Godfather” broke so many rules in terms of the way a movie is made. I feel like Coppola pulled stuff from classic silent films. And those grand, glorious themes and the music and the sound design and the fantastic violence and the idea of just taking time to look at the visuals of Italy. These choices pull you right into the film. It is stunningly made.

 

GC: You have collaborated with some giants: Norman Lear, Mel Brooks, Christopher Nolan, Ridley Scott, Paul Verhoeven, Bill Forsyth, David Byrne, Michael Mann, Alan Parker, Harold Ramis …

ST: Harold Ramis was a spectacular director. And it’s a whole different thing directing comedy, because when you repeat some kind of comic idea, it can become old very quickly. You need to find a way to keep it fresh. In “Groundhog Day,” a lot of the scenes that ended up in the film were first takes. We would talk about the scene and then Bill and I would work out with Harold Ramis where our positions would be. Then we would shoot and Harold Ramis would say, “We got it. Let’s move on.”

 

GC: Creating the “illusion of the first time” is as attractive to actors and directors as it is necessary for audiences. 

ST: So you have that energy of the first idea. I always have that when I’m directing for the stage. If you’re doing something like Shaw or Chekhov, you have to understand this is not just a repetition. This is a new idea now. And it requires that new burst of energy. And so in a movie, I look at it and try to apply it, too. Is this something I say all the time?

Like Ned saying “Bing!” He repeats the word frequently. That’s not a new idea. But it may become a new idea in terms of trying to earn the appreciation of Bill’s character. Ned always admired Phil Connors in school. Ned is possibly thinking, “I’m not a nerd anymore. I’m now more on your level. I’m a successful insurance salesman.” Approaching him in that real sort of way allows me to come up with new ideas.

 

GC: How much character research do you do before you show up memorized and prepared to work? How much do you like to know about the folks you play? 

ST: I think if I were to make a graph, I know I would try to leave 15 to 25% vacant for the actual location where we’re gonna be in case something happens. You know, you leave it open. But I go in with a couple moorings. What’s the most important thing for me in this scene? What is the most important thing that anchors me to have this conversation right now? Do I have this conversation with everyone?

I make sure that when I’m working on lines, I’m not sitting down. I walk around doing something physical. That seems to help me think of the lines in a different way. I don’t know why, but it works for me.

 

GC: Do you like to rehearse with castmates? 

ST: I do. But you shouldn’t rehearse too much. In television, it’s tough because so much of it is just positioning. Take “One Day at a Time,” for example. The scripts were really good. So in rehearsal, you just want to make sure you understand your position on stage and your relationship physically with the other character, and then go for it when you’re in front of the audience.

When you see the eyes of that other actor for the first time, you just go with the impulse and assume that the work you’ve done beforehand will come through. When they call action and the camera rolls, tell the truth as much as you possibly can.

When we were doing “The Goldbergs,” I operated as support, either as an antagonist or a surprise protagonist opposite the stars. Reading the script, I had to see what my role was here. Am I upholding the rule of the school or am I upholding the rule of humanity and siding with the student on this case? What am I doing? I had to consider those philosophical ideas.

 

GC: Why do you think you play so many authority figures? 

ST: Bald head and glasses.

 

GC: Really?

ST: I think the look helps. And I think when I had hair, I could play racists and murderers. But as a bald guy, they’ll make me a priest, they’ll make me a teacher, something like that. I have to be some sort of egghead kind of character.

 

GC: How do you feel about playing darkness? You mentioned that when you had more hair you could play murderers, but do you want to play murderers? 

ST: No, I don’t. And the thing young actors don’t understand is that if you are doing it right, whatever you play sticks with you. When I played the head of the Ku Klux Klan in “Mississippi Burning,” it affected me. There’s almost nothing as ridiculously evil as racial prejudice. When you claim an entire race is inferior, you are propagating a social evil that’s beyond anything. You are calling for the end of the current civilization and how far we’ve traveled.

 

GC: How did you meet producer David Chen and get “The Tobolowsky Files” podcast started?

ST: It was just fate. It was when I was injured after being thrown from the horse in Iceland and I had a broken neck and the doctor said I had a fatal injury, as you recall. And I said, “Fatal? Doctor, words have a meaning in my profession.” He said, “Do you want to know why you’re alive? Most people have a spine like so and yours curves the opposite of a normal person.

I became incredibly depressed. I didn’t know if my acting career was over. I couldn’t do anything on my own. Annie had to help me do everything, even eat. When you have a broken neck, you cannot lie down. You have to stay vertical the whole time.

 

GC: How did you sleep? 

ST: You wedge yourself into a corner with pillows and sleep sitting up. You remain vertical for the entire time your neck is healing. And during that particularly weird and challenging time, I get a phone call from David Chen, this person that I don’t know, from Seattle.

David had seen “Stephen Tobolowsky’s Birthday Party,” the movie I made with Robert Brinkmann. Brinkmann loved the stories I would tell. And he said, “Let’s capture you telling stories from dawn into the night on your birthday.” So we did that.

David Chen said, “What do you think about doing a podcast?” And I said, “What’s a podcast?” He said, “You’ll just tell stories from your life and we’ll experiment. We’ll see what works.”

 

GC: I remember you saying that you were really concerned about using your life stories as material. 

ST: Ann is so smart. She said, “You should keep busy. It can’t hurt just to try this. And if it doesn’t work, don’t do it.” And I said, “Well, since I almost died, I am going to do stories from my life absolutely truthfully. No curlicues, no additional stuff. If at all possible, I’m going to tell the exact things that happened.” Because I have had some weird things happen to me, besides the broken neck.

 

GC: No doubt. You’ve been in some pretty hairy situations, being held at gunpoint and knife point. Most of us hope to make it through life without experiencing some of the scarier things that you’ve gone through.

ST: I’ve had miracles too, being in love with Beth. That was a miracle. And the fact that it didn’t work out, that was a pain of life. But because it didn’t work out, I was able to meet Ann, who turned out to be the incredible love of my life. I mean, when I was hurt, when I was injured, she protected me. After the broken neck, I had open heart surgery a year later. You’re a very lucky man if you find someone like Ann.

The podcast went from Seattle, where it premiered, to more exposure nationwide. Other markets began to pick up the podcast. I was getting emails from all over the country. Simon and Schuster suggested I could do some books based on my stories.

And then Norman Lear ended up reading my book. He said, “You wrote this? Yeah, let’s talk about this. Maybe we could do an episode on ‘One Day at a Time’ that captures some of this.” And I said, “You’re the man.”

 

GC: It doesn’t get any better than Norman Lear.

ST: I’m doing a talk on Judaism later this year in Florida. And I was thinking about Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, and remembering a very difficult episode of “One Day at a Time.” I was asked by the producers to work on Yom Kippur: “Stephen, are you going to be here for this?” And I said, “Let me think about it.” And I look over at Norman and he’s looking at me and I look back at him. I said, “Yes, I’ll be here.”

So I went to rehearse on Yom Kippur, which was not what I was supposed to do. And Norman Lear comes over and sits next to me in the audience in between scenes while we’re working. He says, “Tell me about your Yom Kippur experiences growing up.” I did, and then he started telling me about his. And it ended up being one of the most meaningful Yom Kippur memories I ever had.

 

GC: I think about Lear’s bumper sticker – Just Another Version of You – as often as possible. 

ST: Sharing is a gift. It is an honor to be able to come to North Dakota and share stories with people and maybe even hear stories of their own. And Brent’s a lunatic, you know? It’s going to be a ton of fun.