‘Strange? I don’t feel strange’
HE WON’T EAT IN RESTAURANTS. HIS MOTIVATION COMES FROM LAUNDRY. HIS FAVOURITE ROLE WAS PUSS IN BOOTS. THINK CHRISTOPHER WALKEN IS WEIRD? YOU TELL HIM.....


story by ADAM HIGGINBOTHAM
NEON Magazine November 1997

Late one Saturday night in 1993, Christopher Walken made a brief appearance on British television. He came looming out of the darkness, seated in a huge cane chair, wearing an iridescent pink, yellow and green pullover, a giant book of fairy tales in his lap. “Hello, children,” he said in the monotone of a Bronx assassin. “Are you sitting comfortably?” And he started to read aloud from The Story of The Three Little Pigs. “In the village there was a wolf. A big wolf. Big bad wolf. Get the picture?” The story quickly heated up: “Exit pig one. Pig two, same story. ‘I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.’ Arrividerci, porco numero due. Buon giorno, salami.” His performance was hilarious. Practically no-one has ever seen it.

There are many things people don’t know about Christopher Walken. His real name is Ronald. He went to stage school, appeared on TV as a child actor and worked as a song-and-dance man. He auditioned for the Ryan O’Neal part in Love Story. But one of the most unexpected things about Christopher Walken is that he has a sense of humour.

Since his 1977 appearance as Annie’s lunatic brother in Annie Hall, Walken has built his career on blank-eyed killers and twitching psychos. He won an Oscar for blowing his brains out in The Deer Hunter. He was the ultimate Bond maniac in A View To A Kill, an ice-blooded gangster in King of New York, and as The Man With The Plan in Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead, he was so evil he could only move his head. In The Prophecy he played the Archangel Gabriel. This month he’s in Excess Baggage as Alicia Silverstone’s ‘uncle’. And surely no actor could be that convincingly chilling without being very, very weird.

The man splayed awkwardly across a chair in the lounge of the Chateau Marmont Hotel is as ready with showbiz anecdotes as Peter Ustinov. He is quietly polite and in possession of exquisite comic timing. Yet the onscreen mannerisms - the empty stare, reptilian lip-licking and thin smile that precede Walken’s sudden execution of Dennis Hopper in True Romance - all are in place as, say, he talks about being a lion tamer. The flat monotone of The Man With The Plan is here too, making even avuncular comments sound like threats, so that when he says, ‘That’s very amusing,’ what he obviously means is, ‘I’ll have you killed.’

But Mr. Walken is a man with a sense of humour. That’s why he read The Three Little Pigs on Jonathan Ross’s Saturday Zoo. ‘I frequently do things like that,’ he says, and licks his lips. ‘I thought it was amusing.’

You’re playing a malevolent, quietly terrifying villain in Excess Baggage. Don’t you ever try to play against type?
Well, no. The truth is, I just take what they give me. I try not to take something if I think it’s going to be awful. But I like to work. If I have a working ethic of any kind, it’s that whatever the best thing in front of me is, I take it. Because it’s either that or sitting around the house, and I really don’t like to do that. I’m not interested in too many other things other than my work. I don’t have hobbies, I don’t have kids... I have cats. But I like to work.

So have you always played villains?

On the stage, when I was young, I used to play a lot of comedies. Musical comedies, gee-golly type of things. But there’s something about the movies, I think, that has a lot to do with my physical appearance. Somebody said to me the other day that they thought the ‘bad guy’ thing started with Annie Hall. I have that scene where I talk about driving headlong into traffic. Actors tend to do things and they stick.

Wasn’t your childhood quite strange?
Strange? In the sense of different, yes - very. I had a very unusual childhood. But it was a great one. A total education of another sort. It was coincidental with the birth of television in New York City. In the late ‘40s and early ‘50s, TV was all live - there were over 90 live shows each week - all from the Rockefeller Center in Manhattan. And I was on a lot of those shows. Because TV was so family-oriented and wholesome - all “See the USA in your Chevrolet” - they used a lot of kids more like furniture, y’know. They’d have a scene, particularly in the holidays, and they’d just stick a bunch of kids in there and it would make everything alright. So that’s what I did. But to be around that kind of world, y’know - very unusual. I think my personality is affected by the fact that I grew up differently than most people did. Just the strangeness. Strangeness equates into villainy very easily. Just as a phobic thing. If you don’t know what it is, you fear it.

Did you realise your life wasn’t like other kids’?

No. I mean, that was obvious. It just goes without saying. If you grow up in showbusiness, it’s different. I would say that I grew up in showbusiness - it made me different, and ‘different’ can translate into something you should avoid. But the truth is, I just had my 28th wedding anniversary, and I live in Connecticut. Sort of half in the woods. I have a very conservative life. I don’t feel strange.

But everyone thinks you are.
Yeah - what is that? I really don’t feel strange. I feel like I almost always know what’s going on -talking to someone or being in a situation... So there’s nothing strange about that. I play people who are the total opposite of me.

But the malevolence in your characters comes from the distracted look they get. And those pauses. Frank White in King Of New York constantly hesitates and looks away like he’s thinking about how he’s going to have the person he’s talking to killed.
I’m thinking about something else. I think what that could be is that I suddenly get fixated on something and it interrupts my conversation. I’m basically interested in what I’m doing, but something will happen and I get distracted. But that’s what actors are supposed to be like - they’re supposed to be a little like kids, you know? They say you’re not supposed to be distracted as an actor. But distraction is good. It means you’re paying attention to what’s going on - the way kids are. I love the way kids are. They’ll talk to you and then they go... (stares distractedly away into space). It’s like - next! It’s a very good way to be. Especially for an actor.

But with people like Frank White, it’s in the characterisation, isn’t it?

No. It’s not in the characters. I think you see that it’s me playing and suddenly thinking about something else. And then I come back to it.

Surely not.
No. It’s funny. (As though it isn’t at all, he leans back, exuding wry amusement of precisely the kind we’re talking about, licks his lips.) No, to me it would be just that, suddenly, something crosses my mind. When I go to dailies and I see that kind of thing, I think that’s perfectly natural, that’s the way people are. Aren’t you that way? When you talk to people, aren’t you also thinking that you mustn’t forget to pick up your laundry?

Maybe. But nobody wants to know Frank White is thinking about getting his underpants laundered.

(Laughs) I can’t verify it, but I think there’s a lot of that there. As a friend of mine says, I can’t speak for myself, but only for the rest of us.

How do you get along with children?
I get along with them great. In The Prophecy, I have this scene with kids. It’s great. I’m sitting on the steps if this school. I go over to this school like some terrible person - and I’m an angel. And I’m looking for this guy, and I ask these kids if they’ve seen him. It ends up with me sitting in the middle of this huge crowd of kids - there’s this little girl on my knee, and I’m feeding candy to another kid. And it’s a marvellous scene. They shot it very fast. Everything’s very spontaneous with kids. But what I did was, when we went to shoot it, I walked up, and I’m all in black and I’m coming up like Frankenstein, and I said to the director (lowers voice), “Don’t tell them I’m playing a villain - just tell them it’s Chris.” So he took me over to meet them and they’re, like, playing among themselves, and he said, “This is Chris,” and we all started to joke, and they didn’t know I was a bad guy. If they’d been told by their mother or something, “Oh, here comes the boogie man,” it would have been totally different. They didn’t know anything. They treated me like I was... their daddy. It’s very interesting.

Are you saying you don’t frighten children?
It’s cos they weren’t told. Every time someone sees me in a movie, they remember something about something I did before. So there’s an accumulated type of thing. That’s why it can be so effective for somebody to appear in a part they just don’t belong in. I’d love to get more of those surprise parts. Roger Moor said to me once (drops into purring approximation of Moorespeak), “You know, you get to play all these villains. I’d love to play a villain.” And I said, “Well, Roger, you’d be great for one. Why don’t you play a villain?” And he said, “They won’t give me one.” He’s a good guy, but he’d love to play a villain. All you’ve got to do is ask him. Wouldn’t he be great as somebody awful? He’s in The Quest? He’s the villain? Well, maybe he took my advice. I’d love to play a hero. I’d love to play James Bond. Nobody’s going to ask me to play James Bond.

Have you ever played a hero?

Never. A famous, big actor said to me once, “Do you die in every movie?” I said,” “Yes.” He said to me, “D’you know, I’ve never died.” I won’t tell you who it is - it’s too private. But a wonderful, nice, big star. He said to me, “I’ve never died.”

You should do more work with kids.

Yeah. A movie with kids where I don’t have to die. I don’t die in the one I’m shooting now, which is nice.

But you haven’t finished shooting it yet.....
You’re absolutely right. Never take anything for granted. One of my favourite movies I did, no-one has seen. I have a video of it: a movie version of Puss in Boots. It’s a wonderful children’s’ story: it’s about a cat who gets these boots and becomes a man. There’s this orange and white cat walking around, and then suddenly it was me. I had my hair dyed red, I had a moustache and I looked like a cat. It was very funny. It’s a musical. I sing and dance in it. It’s amazing what they do. No money. I didn’t get paid anything.

You’ve been pretty good in some rotten films.

Well, you know, I am good - I try and get it right. And you’re in movies that are better or less better. And sometimes I’ve done things for money. Sure. But most of the time, even if I do something for money, the main concern is going to work. Cos I do things for money and I do things for no money - there’s really no scheme to it. It’s really: have I been sitting around the house for two weeks? If I’m in the house for two weeks, I would, you know... I would play anything.

Do the roles you’ve played seem funny to you? Lines like Vincent Cocotti’s “I haven’t killed anyone since 1984” in True Romance are like deadpan jokes.
I think that has to do with the fact that I always know I’m in a movie. Having been in showbusiness all my life, I’d feel hypocritical telling you that it was real. And that’s just the thing I was brought up with. My acting technique comes directly out of musical comedy. And even when I later started to do great plays, my technique came from musical comedy: talk to whoever you’re talking to, but also talk to the audience. As a matter of fact, I refer to them. That’s exactly how I do it - when I do Shakespeare or Chekhov, or any play, really, any play. Half of what I do is addressed directly to the audience, and I’m sure it affects everything I do as an actor.

Do you consciously develop your characters?
Not really. Usually how I’m going to play a part has more to do with rhythm - maybe because I’m an old dancer. I start to read the script and I read it with different inflections and accents. I read it with an Italian accent, a Spanish accent, a German accent. I read it fast. I take a serious section and read it like I’m Pee-Wee Herman. And sooner or later you recognise a rhythm in your speech. And basically that’s what it is for me. If I start to find a rhythm, then I know I can play the part. Who cares what I think or what the character thinks? The script tells you - you can add little tit-bits, flavour it and that sort of thing - but basically, when I go to make the movie, I’ve already done it before I get there. I know exactly what I’m gonna do and just do it.

Is that how you did the scene with Dennis Hopper in True Romance?
The big thing that helped both of us was that we just enjoyed one another’s company. First of all, he made me laugh, and that was very important in the scene: the fact that I was really enjoying this guy. And then I shoot him anyway. But the fact that I really liked him, and you could see it, was very good for the scene. And the same is true of him - he really enjoyed telling me that story. And you could see it was delightful. Don’t you think? And it happens to end with me shooting him in the head.

Didn’t Robert de Niro give you advice about how to play the Russian Roulette scene in The Deer Hunter?

Yeah. He said, “Do everything you’re doing, take as much time, just play the whole scene in your head. Don’t talk.” So when you watch that scene, I’m just going through the lines in my head. The way I often do with my lines. I sit in the car and go.... (moves head fractionally and zones out) and it looks like I’m thinking. But in fact I’m going through my lines. That’s what I’m doing in The Deer Hunter in that scene. Did it influence me subsequently? Sure. That was a great direction. You don’t have to say everything - think it. I’d love to make a silent movie. I think I would be good in a silent movie. I don’t think anybody’s made one. Mel Brooks made one, but it’s sort of a spoof. I think a serious silent movie. I wonder why nobody’s done that.

I don’t know. Probably because people....
...wouldn’t go. (Earnest pause) I probably wouldn’t go either. (Earnest pause) It’s a terrible idea. (Laughs) That’s the worst idea I’ve had all day.

Is it true that you don’t know what your characters are like until you see them onscreen?
Yeah. And that’s another thing that might be why I’m pretty good at it. I don’t pass judgement on them at the time. I went to see Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead with an old friend of mine. And he’s a guy my age; I’ve known him for a long time. And we see the movie and he says to me, “Jesus Chris, that’s the most terrible person I ever saw. That’s the most terrible person I ever saw.” And I said, “Well, thank you.” And then we bumped into friends, and he said, “I just saw Chris in this movie and it’s really terrible.”

Do you ever see yourself onscreen and think, My god, what a monster?
NO. If I’m glad about it, it’s because I’ve looked at it and thought, Ooh, that’s good. That’ll get ‘em. That’s a good one. And if I think, Oh gee, that didn’t work, then I get depressed. But I don’t think I frighten anyone. I think one of the things that an actor has to do is just keep the audience from doubting you and the character. That’s why I think characters are seen as much by reflection as they are by anything the actor does. When somebody walks into a room that you don’t know, you immediately know a lot by how other people treat them. So I think that a lot of what an actor has to do is just to do it and not make a big deal out of it.

You’re making it sound very easy.

No, no. It’s not easy. It takes... a lot of... something. A lot of effort. I don’t quite know how to put it, but it’s not easy - not for me. I’m not a natural actor. It never came easy. You find out certain things. A French actor said to me, “Acting is easy. Just so long as you can do it.” I think that’s true.

Which of the characters you’ve played would you least like to meet?
The guy in Comfort Of Strangers. I don’t think I’ve ever played anybody quite as horrible. It’s the way it can be deeply unsettling to be in a room with somebody who is mentally disturbed. As much as you may have compassion for them, it scares me, that. And that guy was like that.

Do you think, That got ‘em, about him?
That one, maybe not. I mean, it’s a very strange movie. I didn’t know it at the time I was making it, but it occurred to me after I saw it, that it’s a retelling of Hansel and Gretel. And I’m the witch.But with a different ending.
No, not really. Or do Hansel and Gretel get away? Oh. Yes. It is a different ending. Why did I think... oh, does she try to put them in the oven and then they get away? Well, this movie stops it there and they don’t get away.

Do people seem afraid of you on the street?

It’s an interesting thing - in New York I can walk around some pretty rough neighbourhoods. And you’re pretty well taken care of. (Laughs knowingly) I’m a homeboy. I’ve never got in any trouble on the street. As a matter of fact, I went to a late show of Menace II Society in Times Square one night - - I love that movie. Everybody in the audience was like everybody in the movie. And it was, like, a summer night and it was late. And... absolutely. They took very good care of me. Cos they’d seen King Of New York. They were street people. They just kept an eye out and made sure I was OK - you know.

Would you like to make another musical?
Oh yeah, I’d love to, but they don’t make ‘em. I’ve done two - Puss In Boots and Pennies From Heaven. If I was asked tomorrow, I’d love to. And not only that - I could still do it. Although, as you get older... I’d do it onstage, but the thing is that you can’t get involved in a Broadway musical without giving a year of your life up.

You insist on doing your own shopping wherever you are. And you don’t like eating in restaurants. Is that true?
The thing is that when I work, I’ve always had a physical regimen. That’s just the way I am. I like to know exactly what I’m eating. I like to know what’s in it. I’m funny that way. I don’t like to eat in restaurants, it’s true. I don’t like people touching my food. I like plain food. I eat fish, it’s true. But that’s not strange. I think if everybody did that , they’d be better off. Don’t you? I can’t believe the things people eat. Particularly in this country. The way we eat is just unbelievable. And you know, the insidious thing is that this crappy food is getting cheaper to buy. I wish this country would eat better. I figure a lot of diseases would diminish, don’t you? Americans with fast food, it’s... too bad.

And you don’t like driving either. You have very un-American tastes.
I guess. But out here particularly I don’t like to drive because everybody’s an expert. They drive very fast. And they’re very good drivers and they’re very intolerant of anyone who’s not. They blow their horn at you and scream as they go by. So I’d rather not drive.

Do you drive slowly?
I drive very carefully. I drive on the right side and, you know, I’m very careful. Listen, I’d rather take chances in my work. I don’t need to take any other chances. You would never get me on a motorcycle. I seriously doubt if I will ever get on a horse in a movie again. They’re dangerous. There are things that are dangerous - you shouldn’t do them. Better to take chances with your career, don’t you think? I look at someone bungee jumping and I think, there goes another asshole. Or parachute jumping. Unless you’re dropping behind enemy lines, I don’t understand the need for it.

Did any comedians influence you?
When I went to comedy movies as a kid, I used to go see Jerry Lewis. I love Jerry Lewis.

Did he influence you in any specific way?
Oh, just a general attitude. Sometimes I say to the crew, “I’m dedicating this take to Jerry Lewis.” And for some reason people laugh. It changes the mood. Or I’ll say, right before a take (slightly reedy voice), “Is it hot in here, or am I crazy? For some reason it makes people laugh also. “Is it hot in here?” “No, Chris, you’re not crazy...” Because of the way people perceive me, I can definitely have fun with it. As a matter of fact, I have to put my foot down. I’m too nice.

You have very old-fashioned ideas.
Absolutely. I come out of musical comedy theatre. And not only that - touring. Which is practically like being in the circus. And in fact I have worked in a circus. A small touring circus. It was very weird. I was a kid. There was this guy named Tarryl Jacobs who owned the circus and he had a lion-taming act. And I used to come in the cage with him, dressed exactly like him in this outfit with jodhpurs and boots and a whip and a red jacket. And I was billed as Tarryl Jacobs Jr. At the end of his act, all the lions would go out, and this old one named Sheba would be left in the middle, sitting on a box. And “Dad” would hand me his whip and leave the cage. And I remember I used to stand in front of Sheba, she’s up on a box, and this lion was old. Teeth missing, everything. And she always had this look on her face like, Oh no. We gotta do this again? And I’d take the whip and say, “Up, Sheba! Up!” And she would go (mimes) Uuuuh! And then drop down and the audience would give me a huge hand and “Dad” would come back in, and that was it. I was 16. I just did it for two months. It was very interesting. They had a real sideshow and everything. My younger brother came to visit me one day. And they keep the lions in these railroad cars with bars. We were talking and a lion walked over to him, lifted its leg and took a giant squirt on him. I don’t think he spoke for three days. But that was interesting. That’s where I come from. True story. And lots more - that’s actually one of the most interesting episodes of my youth.

So this leads you not to take anything that seriously.
Absolutely. And also never to take a job like that again. The thing is, we’ve been talking about playing villains and all that. But that’s exactly what I’m playing in Excess Baggage. So, if possible... I’m certainly not complaining about playing villains. It’s how I make my living.

Have you ever met anyone like these people you play?
No. (Laughs in disbelief) No-one. I grew up with people in showbusiness. They’re all harmless, don’t you understand? We don’t shoot each other. Really. That’s the great thing about showbiz - everybody’s very nice.

Transcribed by Carolyn Hinton