crack shot hero of his picture.
âI just donât know what to do with this kid. Iâve never seen anything like this before.â
Don had. One of the things that drove him crazy about these Actors Studio types was how theyâd smoke a cigarette, making the whole scene about the stupid cigarette.
âI donât know how to deal with him, Don.â
So the good guy agreed to a man-to-man chat with the bad guy, perhaps not so bad, just a little confused.
âYouâre not looking at what a Western is ,â Don told Hopper. âThe classic Western is a morality tale. Things are pretty black and white. Having all these discussions about psychology?â
Out here in the desert, Hopper told him all about Jimmy on the set of Giant , of all Jimmy had to go through to get into the character of Jett Rink.
In Marfa, Jimmy would hang around the locals in his ten-gallon hat, learning rope tricks until he could throw a lasso as sure as a turn of the earth. All that effortâonly to face off against the Super Chief, who sucked the last drop out of him like an oil derrick. The makeup artist sprinkled gray in Jimmyâs hair for the banquet scene, but those bags under his eyes? They werenât acting.
Jimmy still couldnât get through to the Super Chief. He wanted to take a drink from his own flask for the scene, knowing his character was too proud to drink from the table of rich folks who looked down on him. The Super Chief wouldnât let him. Only later, when Jimmy was dead, did the director concede that Dean knew Jett Rink better than he did.
âJimmy wanted to direct too, man,â said Hopper. âHe wouldnât take anything from the studios, wouldnât let them rust his machinery. Thatâs why he was almost fired during Giant . He was his own man , man.â
Don tried to break throughââUse what Kazan said, âTake a disadvantage and make it an advantageâââemploying a bit of the olâ psychology by telling Hopper, âHenry, your director, is like your father, and youâre fighting with the father. Use your frustration in the movie. Make it work for you.â
Heading back to set, Don hoped heâd done something good for the classic Western, maybe even taught the bad guy a trick or two. He thought Hopper had taken the lesson to heart because afterward Hopper reined himself in, became better behaved, and they were able to get through the shoot on time and within budget. Moseying back to civilization, Hopper awaited his fate from Warner Bros., which was being scribbled on a scrap of paper in the studioâs bowels by a number cruncher tallying up revenue from loaning him out for the year: $8,200 from Twentieth Century Fox, $6,000 from C. V. Whitney, and so on. The bottom line? âDennis cost us $250.00 for the year,â wrote the number cruncher. Their lucky penny had come up short. Formal release papers followed, hurling Dennis Hopper into the outer darkness beyond the studio gates.
âYouâve spoken of Deanâs description of an imaginary line, and itâs one of the most profound thoughts Iâve everââ
Speaking four decades later in an alternate universe, the dean emeritus of the Actors Studio welcomed his guest to the show. Tonightâs special episode of Inside the Actors Studio featured distinguished Studio alumnus Dennis Hopper, pushing sixty, with all of his hair shaved off for his latest role as the villain with the evil eye patch and leather codpiece in Waterworld , the postapocalyptic summer blockbuster.
âYou appeared in a picture called From Hell to Texas ,â spoke the erudite James Lipton. âAnd hereâs Henry Hathaway, directing you in an entirely different way. You were young and juicy and rebellious. What happened on that set?â
âHe gave me line readings,â said Hopper. âTold me when to pick up the cup, put down the cup, when to get on the horse, off
âI just donât know what to do with this kid. Iâve never seen anything like this before.â
Don had. One of the things that drove him crazy about these Actors Studio types was how theyâd smoke a cigarette, making the whole scene about the stupid cigarette.
âI donât know how to deal with him, Don.â
So the good guy agreed to a man-to-man chat with the bad guy, perhaps not so bad, just a little confused.
âYouâre not looking at what a Western is ,â Don told Hopper. âThe classic Western is a morality tale. Things are pretty black and white. Having all these discussions about psychology?â
Out here in the desert, Hopper told him all about Jimmy on the set of Giant , of all Jimmy had to go through to get into the character of Jett Rink.
In Marfa, Jimmy would hang around the locals in his ten-gallon hat, learning rope tricks until he could throw a lasso as sure as a turn of the earth. All that effortâonly to face off against the Super Chief, who sucked the last drop out of him like an oil derrick. The makeup artist sprinkled gray in Jimmyâs hair for the banquet scene, but those bags under his eyes? They werenât acting.
Jimmy still couldnât get through to the Super Chief. He wanted to take a drink from his own flask for the scene, knowing his character was too proud to drink from the table of rich folks who looked down on him. The Super Chief wouldnât let him. Only later, when Jimmy was dead, did the director concede that Dean knew Jett Rink better than he did.
âJimmy wanted to direct too, man,â said Hopper. âHe wouldnât take anything from the studios, wouldnât let them rust his machinery. Thatâs why he was almost fired during Giant . He was his own man , man.â
Don tried to break throughââUse what Kazan said, âTake a disadvantage and make it an advantageâââemploying a bit of the olâ psychology by telling Hopper, âHenry, your director, is like your father, and youâre fighting with the father. Use your frustration in the movie. Make it work for you.â
Heading back to set, Don hoped heâd done something good for the classic Western, maybe even taught the bad guy a trick or two. He thought Hopper had taken the lesson to heart because afterward Hopper reined himself in, became better behaved, and they were able to get through the shoot on time and within budget. Moseying back to civilization, Hopper awaited his fate from Warner Bros., which was being scribbled on a scrap of paper in the studioâs bowels by a number cruncher tallying up revenue from loaning him out for the year: $8,200 from Twentieth Century Fox, $6,000 from C. V. Whitney, and so on. The bottom line? âDennis cost us $250.00 for the year,â wrote the number cruncher. Their lucky penny had come up short. Formal release papers followed, hurling Dennis Hopper into the outer darkness beyond the studio gates.
âYouâve spoken of Deanâs description of an imaginary line, and itâs one of the most profound thoughts Iâve everââ
Speaking four decades later in an alternate universe, the dean emeritus of the Actors Studio welcomed his guest to the show. Tonightâs special episode of Inside the Actors Studio featured distinguished Studio alumnus Dennis Hopper, pushing sixty, with all of his hair shaved off for his latest role as the villain with the evil eye patch and leather codpiece in Waterworld , the postapocalyptic summer blockbuster.
âYou appeared in a picture called From Hell to Texas ,â spoke the erudite James Lipton. âAnd hereâs Henry Hathaway, directing you in an entirely different way. You were young and juicy and rebellious. What happened on that set?â
âHe gave me line readings,â said Hopper. âTold me when to pick up the cup, put down the cup, when to get on the horse, off