A few moments before our wedding ceremony, which took place on a warm and beautiful day, Hilaria’s friend Yoel came to me bearing a wrapped package, inside of which was a small decorative box in antique silver. I opened it to find a piece of paper on which Hilaria had written the most beautiful and meaningful words ever meant for me. That box sits next to my bed, and from time to time, I take out the piece of paper to remind myself of who this woman is and how lucky I truly am. In return, I say, “Te quiero, mi vida. Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”
17
Nevertheless
There are so many stories and anecdotes that I have left to tell. There’s so much advice I’ve received that’s worth passing on. But this book is what I thought represented the best cross-section of what I’ve seen, what I’ve learned, and who I am.
While we were shooting Path to War with John Frankenheimer, the great Michael Gambon told me my favorite joke of all time. Be forewarned that is does contain an ugly misogynistic epithet that the Brits tend to throw around in a less gendered way. I’ll probably mangle this. But here’s my version:
Lord So-and-So, an English tragedian in the mold of Donald Wolfit, upon whom Ronald Harwood based the character of Sir in his play The Dresser, is touring the provinces, performing Antony and Cleopatra. One evening, he takes the stage to make an announcement.
ENTER SO-AND-SO (to applause).
SO-AND-SO (quieting the audience):
“I regret to inform you that tonight the role of Cleopatra shall not be portrayed by Lady Margaret Thornbush (a murmur in the crowd), but instead shall be assayed by my wife, Emily Treadwell.”
SPECTATOR (from the back of the house and shrill):
“Your wife’s a fucking cunt!”
SO-AND-SO (after a pause):
“Nevertheless.”
*
I used to discount any observations about surviving in show business. Or any business, for that matter. That was, of course, when I was young. (Am I getting ready to play Shelley Levene? Willy Loman? King Lear!!) It feels like it’s harder than ever to survive in the entertainment business. God knows, I have made many mistakes in my career. Nevertheless, I have more work than I can handle.
I made my share of mistakes raising my daughter Ireland. Nevertheless, I love Ireland with all my soul and I believe she knows that. And that she loves me, too.
It has taken me a lot longer than I thought it would to get my life in order so that someone might want to share it with me. Nevertheless, my wife and our kids are un sue?o hecho realidad.
I have talked and talked and talked about politics and public policy, and some of it has been effective and worthwhile. Some of it, not so much. Nevertheless, my passion for justice is still easily stirred and my desire to comfort the afflicted is undiminished, regardless of the cost. Even in these almost incomprehensibly cynical times, I still have hope that our country can find its way to liberty and justice . . . for all.
And, finally, I have neither the time nor the talent to write a book. Nevertheless, I wrote this book in my own words and, such as it is, I offer it to you to entertain, to motivate, to inspire, and to learn. Not so much for you to learn about me, but for me to learn about me. I have learned so much while piecing this together. My thanks to you for reading it.
The Actors Index
I never had many actors as friends. I suppose that’s because the days at work are usually long and work is often play, so it’s a different kind of friendship. But I have loved so many actors. Their wit, charm, and style. Their vanity, insanity, and courage. So, knowing I will forget more than a few, let me attempt to distill that affection into this simple index:
A is for Julie Andrews, the most elegant movie star of them all. And Woody Allen, the funniest screenwriter of them all. For Abbott and Costello. And for Jean Arthur in movies like Shane and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town.
B is for Burstyn and Blanchett, Beatty and Bening. For Banderas. For Javier Bardem, Peter Boyle, and Richard Burton. For Kevin Bacon, Gabriel Byrne, and the Bridges clan (how I enjoyed working with Lloyd!). B is for Kathy Bates and Anne Bancroft. And B is for Brando—and I’ll watch it all, the good, the bad, and the great. B is for Ingrid Bergman. For Bogart and Bacall. What I would have given to work with Bogart.
C is for Cagney and his athleticism, passion, and tenderness. It’s for Joan Crawford. For Sean Connery, Jimmy Caan, and Michael Caine. C is most definitely for Tom Cruise. For Don Cheadle. For Montgomery Clift and John Cazale. For Lee J. Cobb and Tony Curtis. For two Chaneys and a Chaplin. And Gary Cooper.
D is for Bette Davis. To hell with flawless skin and symmetrical features and a swimsuit body. It’s the force of her acting (like Nicholson’s) that develops the film while it’s still in the camera. It’s for Depardieu, Deneuve, and de Havilland. For Daniel Day-Lewis and Willem Dafoe. For two Matts, Dillon (because I love Drugstore Cowboy) and Damon (because we both died in Team America). For De Niro, D’Onofrio, Del Toro, and DiCaprio. Faye Dunaway, Marlene Dietrich, and James Dean. Douglas, père et fils. And for Duvall, one of the rare originals in Hollywood.
E is for Emilio Estevez (that’s two E’s). And for Clint Eastwood, the Bill Belichick of Hollywood. He’ll make movies after he’s gone. (“You’ll find the shot list in the brown folder in my office.”)
F is for Firth and Fiennes, for Glenn Ford and Albert Finney. And Errol Flynn. For Laurence Fishburne. It’s for all the Fondas. (What a family. And wasn’t Henry Fonda great in Fail Safe? Tied with Fredric March in Seven Days in May for Best Portrayal of the President.) For Mia Farrow.
G is for Jimmy Gandolfini, whose great talent got me to watch TV again. For Mel Gibson. And Andy Garcia, Scott Glenn, and Gielgud. And Andy Griffith. For John Goodman and Ryan Gosling. It’s for Cary Grant, Ava Gardner, and Clark Gable. (Don’t miss Gable in The Misfits.) G is for Alec Guinness. And Garbo. And John Garfield. And Judy Garland.
H is big. Two Hepburns (Katharine and Audrey), two Hunts (Helen and Linda) and a Hunter (Holly). Two Hoffmans (Dustin and Philip Seymour) and a Huffman (Felicity). Hackman and Hanks. H is for Anjelica Huston, Goldie Hawn, and Salma Hayek. Ed Harris and Woody Harrelson. Heston and Holden. Dennis Hopper, Anne Heche, and John Hurt. It’s for Timothy Hutton and Rock Hudson. And Julie Harris. (For Julie’s memorial, I wrote that her voice was like rain.) And my dear, dear Anthony Hopkins.
I is for Jeremy Irons and Amy Irving and the talented Michael Imperioli.
J is for Samuel L. Jackson. And the Jones gang, as in Dean, Cherry, and James Earl. And Derek Jacobi.