Peter Bogdanovich: Interviews Conversations with Filmmakers Series Gerald Peary, General Editor This page intentionally left blank Peter Bogdanovich i n t e r v i e w s Edited by Peter Tonguette University Press of Mississippi / Jackson www.upress.state.ms.us The University Press of Mississippi is a member of the Association of American University Presses. Copyright © 2015 by University Press of Mississippi All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America First printing 2015 ∞ Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Bogdanovich, Peter, 1939– Peter Bogdanovich : interviews / edited by Peter Tonguette. pages cm. — (Conversations with filmmakers series) Includes index and filmography. ISBN 978-1-62846-184-8 (cloth : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-1-62846-187-9 1. Bogdanovich, Peter, 1939–—Interviews. 2. Motion picture producers and directors— United States—Interviews. 3. Actors—United States—Interviews. I. Tonguette, Peter Prescott, 1983– editor. II. Title. PN1998.3.B64A3 2015 791.4302’33092—dc23 2014031698 British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data available Contents Introduction vii Chronology xv Filmography xviii Peter Bogdanovich 3 Eric Sherman and Martin Rubin / 1968 Without a Dinosaur 17 Gordon Gow / 1972 An Interview with Peter Bogdanovich 27 Martin Rubin / 1974 Dialogue on Film: Peter Bogdanovich 41 American Film Institute / 1978 Peter Bogdanovich Interview 63 Stephen Myers and Larry Estes / 1979 Peter Bogdanovich: “What Is the Point of Making Pictures?” 84 Michael Ventura / 1982 Dialogue on Film: Peter Bogdanovich 92 American Film Institute / 1986 Peter Bogdanovich Interview 98 Thomas J. Harris / 1988 Between Action and Cut: Peter Bogdanovich 107 John Gallagher / 1997 v vi contents Interview with Peter Bogdanovich 132 Gerald Peary / 2002 Peter Bogdanovich’s Year of the Cat 142 Alex Simon / 2002 Peter Bogdanovich 160 Stephen Lemons / 2002 Peter Bogdanovich 164 Peter Tonguette / 2005 Additional Resources 173 Index 175 Introduction Near the beginning of his collection of interviews with directors, Who the Devil Made It, Peter Bogdanovich recalls a vivid exchange he had with John Ford in 1969. “Oh, for Chrissake, Bogdanovich! Can’t you do anything but ask ques- tions?!” Ford thundered. “I mean, Jesus Christ, haven’t you even heard of the declarative sentence?”1 Since the director of Stagecoach, The Quiet Man,andThe Searchers was frequently on the receiving end of Bogdanov- ich’s questioning—having been the subject of lengthy interviews both in print (in Bogdanovich’s book John Ford) and on film (in Bogdanov- ich’s documentary Directed by John Ford)—it is not hard to understand his good-humored mock outrage at his unremitting interlocutor. As if to prove Ford’s point, the quote appears in the context of an in- troduction to a book made up of nothing but questions asked by Bogda- novich—about casting and acting, camera angles and cutting rooms— and the answers proffered by Alfred Hitchcock, George Cukor, Edgar G. Ulmer, and Howard Hawks, along with about a dozen others. In fact, Ford once shared his bewilderment with Hawks (“Howard, does he ask you all those goddam questions, too?”),2 as though Bogdanovich’s inter- rogations represented a kind of secret handshake among directors of a certain age. As amusing as these two anecdotes are, however, in some ways they are misleading. Bogdanovich was not a fresh-faced fan, who happened to have a microphone at the ready, but—in time—a peer who was talking shop. Although a number of the interviews gathered in Who the Devil Made It were conducted before Bogdanovich (who arrived in California as a film journalist) broke into moviemaking, many others took place after he began directing in 1968, the year his debut film, Targets, was re- leased. In other words, when Bogdanovich spoke with Cukor in 1969 or Ulmer in 1970 or Hawks in 1972, he was doing so as a colleague. By then, other interviewers—proto-Bogdanoviches, perhaps—be- gan seeking Bogdanovich himself out to ask questions of their own, to which he gladly, often at great length, and always intelligently replied. vii viii introduction To put it another way, for nearly as long as he has been asking questions, he has been answering them. It is not for nothing that he writes, in his collection of memories of movie stars, Who the Hell’s In It, that one of his big regrets about a youthful stint in summer stock is that he was too talkative, even though one of his co-stars was legendary actress Sylvia Sidney: “I wish now that I had talked less and asked more questions.”3 Reviewing that book for the New York Times, critic Stephanie Zacharek picked up on this. “Reading these profiles,” she wrote, “you get the sense that Bogdanovich is a talker who learned to be a listener.”4 So, to reply to Ford’s joshing query: Bogdanovich has heard of the de- clarative sentence, thank you very much, and he was never shy about using it, either. <space> Assembled in Peter Bogdanovich: Interviews are thirteen interviews with Bogdanovich, conducted between 1968 and 2005, and even the earliest among them offers ample evidence of Bogdanovich’s precocious verbos- ity. In 1968, Eric Sherman and Martin Rubin paired Bogdanovich with Budd Boetticher, Samuel Fuller, Arthur Penn, and Abraham Polonsky for their interview book, The Director’s Event. Which of these is not like the other? Boetticher, Fuller, and Polonsky were widely admired veterans of Old Hollywood, while Penn was an already prolific participant in the American New Wave. On the other hand, Bogdanovich had not yet even started production on The Last Picture Show. The future classic comes up, but only as one of several potential projects he has idling on the back burner. The truth of the matter is that when Sherman and Rubin spoke to him—as Thomas J. Harris (author of the critical study Bogdanovich’s Picture Shows, and of a fine interview included here) put it—“by contrast to the other filmmakers included, he had produced only one feature to date.”5 Yes, Bogdanovich had just one lonely film of his own to talk about—but talk about it he did. In a new introduction written expressly for this book, Rubin refers to Bogdanovich as a peer—“like a hip upperclassman or older sibling”— which is understandable since they were in the same age group and were, at least some of the time, engaged in the same activity: interview- ing directors. Yet the way Sherman and Rubin framed their interview suggests that they already sensed that their friendly, accessible contem- porary was destined for great things. At the start of the interview, Bogda- novich went on for several pages about, among other things, his abortive career as a theater director (though his off-Broadway staging of The Big Knifewas, he said, “a successful production critically”); his fate-altering introduction ix encounter with Roger Corman (“Roger called me a couple of days later and said, ‘You’re a writer. Wouldn’t you like to write for pictures?’”); and what his favorite films were at age ten (Red River andShe Wore a Yel- low Ribbon). There is chutzpah in the way Bogdanovich assumed that someone, someday, will care about this highly detailed backstory, and prescience in his interviewers’ tolerance for it. Subsequent conversa- tions—especially those with critic Gerald Peary and filmmaker-writer John Gallagher—delved even more deeply into his early days, but here he was talking to Sherman and Rubin about them while he was still in them. Sherman and Rubin were also the first, but far from the last, to ask Bogdanovich about his purported “homages” to other directors, when they bring up several allusions to Hitchcock in Targets. This was, Bogda- novich told Peary more than three decades later, “the standard Bogda- novich review.” As he explained, “So, The Last Picture Show was my hom- age to Orson, Targets was my homage to Hitchcock, and Daisy Miller was my homage to Cukor, and so on. It was all a lot of crap.” To Sherman and Rubin, Bogdanovich admitted “stealing” a shot here or a sequence there (albeit unconsciously), but even with one film under his belt, he clari- fied his position articulately. Far from pilfering Hitchcock just for the hell of it, he saw his work—modest as it was in 1968—as part of a thread that reached back to the roots of the medium. “I don’t think it’s pos- sible for anyone who’s starting to make films today not to be influenced by what’s gone before,” he said. “Ford, Hawks, Dwan, and these other directors have already done everything, and they were all influenced by Griffith.” Maybe it was a little early in the day for Bogdanovich to answer ques- tions by referring back to the creator of The Birth of a Nation. But his com- ments in The Director’s Event disprove the notion that he was more at home asking questions than answering them. <space> Everything about Bogdanovich’s station had changed when Gordon Gow interviewed him for Films and Filming in 1972. Given the success of The Last Picture Show—a film beloved by audiences, critics (one famously likened it to Citizen Kane), and Oscar voters (two wins out of eight nomi- nations)—Gow could begin his article with a knockout of an opening line. “In the American cinema,” Gow wrote of Bogdanovich, “he is the man of the hour.” If anything, this turned out to be an understatement, since Gow was speaking with Bogdanovich as the director was absorbed in making his
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