Confessions of a beautiful mind: George Clooney

 

 

Our new film, Leatherheads, which you directed and star in, is about the early days of professional football. What attracted you to this project?

I like to direct. I consider myself more a director than an actor. And after Good Night, and Good Luck I realised that I was really good at juggling a hundred things at once. In fact, I needed to: when the hundred things stop, I get into trouble. After Good Night, every offer I got to direct was for an issue film. And I don’t want to be the ‘issues’ guy. I want to be a director with longevity, so I picked Leatherheads. It was a complete departure – a romantic comedy with football.

Did you watch a lot of romantic comedies to prepare?

I believe in stealing. I ripped off His Girl Friday and The Philadelphia Story. I was ripping off everything – I’ll send apology letters to everyone. There’s a scene I stole from Absence of Malice that was so close we had to change it.

Did you play football as a kid growing up in Kentucky?

No. My school, which was a public school, was too small. You need 11 guys, and I think there were just 11 guys in my entire senior class. I played baseball – specifically, centre field, which means that you are the captain of the outfield, which I liked.

The movie is, in many ways, a celebration of small-town America. How important was it to you that you grew up in a small town?

It’s informed almost everything I’ve done. It was a great place to grow up because you could do anything you wanted to do The town was our baby sitter. My dad was gone until late at night doing the news on local television, and my mom was working, too. I’d be at a friend’s house and I’d check in once in a while.

But you still wanted to leave Kentucky?

Badly. I was restless. My aunt Rosemary (the singer Rosemary Clooney) and her five kids lived in Beverly Hills, and I would hear of these exciting things they were doing. I remember that they went skiing in Switzerland. We didn’t live like that ever, and I was jealous.

Did your parents encourage you?

Absolutely not. My father told me: “This isn’t going to turn out well.’’ I’m glad I didn’t take his advice, but it was the right advice. Adversity is not a bad thing; I worked two times as hard to show them. And, even now, the feeling that this might not work out has not left me. Do you think that doing lots and lots of television was helpful or hurtful for your movie career?

Absolutely helpful. Especially doing sitcoms. At a comedy show, everybody is involved in making the project better. You’re not just concerned with yourself. And then an audience comes in, and you learn to make instant decisions. And I learned about love scenes. I’ve probably played every romantic scene in television but I was lucky that I never became famous until ER.

Did you try to get into movies?

Oh yeah, but no one wanted to see me. I was making $40,000 an episode on some hour show, and I couldn’t get an audition for a two-line part in a film called Guarding Tess. During my first break from ER, I knew I had to do a movie. When From Dusk Till Dawn came around, I knew it was a lucky shot. I knew if I didn’t do it, the juggernaut would disappear.

Did you always have it in the back of your mind to try and tackle more political films?

Yes, but nobody encourages you to do Syriana. They want you to be the glamorous guy. It was very hard to get Syriana made in 2004. The war in Iraq was popular when we were pitching the movie. People would only whisper that they agreed with me. Let’s be straightforward: there’s a huge part of the country that until the events of 9/11 did not know the difference between an Israeli and an Arab.

Were you raised religiously?

I was an altar boy. I don’t consider myself Catholic anymore, but that religion remains deep in your soul. The last time I went to confession, I was 17. I’m 46 now, so I do have some sins to confess (laughs).

Why don’t you run for elected office?

That would be a terrible idea. I would be the worst candidate. I’m supporting Barack Obama, and I don’t even think it’s a good idea for me to stump for him. They can pull out some old video of me saying something crazy, and then it suddenly becomes about defending something that I’ve said that has nothing to do with the campaign. I’ve met Hillary several times, and I like her very much.

Hasn’t politics become more like Hollywood? So far, this election seems particularly camera-ready.

Since the Kennedy and Nixon debate, presidential campaigns have been Hollywood. They consult on everything now: part your hair on the left because it’s more soothing; wear blue because it inspires confidence, they are trying to pick off demographics. That happens everywhere – in news, in movies and with candidates. It’s all the same.