by James Garner
Skin Game ½ (Warner Bros., 1971) C-102 min. D: Paul Bogart. Louis Gossett, Susan Clark, Edward Asner, Andrew Duggan.
A funny movie if you don’t mind jokes about slavery. Paul Bogart did a masterly job with a story about a con man who travels the South selling his “slave” again and again, but they’re really partners.
They Only Kill Their Masters (MGM, 1972) C-97 min. D: James Goldstone. Katharine Ross, Hal Holbrook, Peter Lawford, Harry Guardino, June Allyson, Tom Ewell.
I’d rather not talk about it.
One Little Indian ¼ (Disney, 1973) C-90 min. D: Bernard McEveety. Vera Miles, Pat Hingle, Jay Silverheels, Jodie Foster.
I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. This is one of them. The only bright spot was a ten-year-old Jodie Foster.
The Castaway Cowboy ½ (Disney, 1974) C-91 min. D: Bernard McEveety. Vera Miles, Robert Culp, Gregory Sierra.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E. The best thing in it is the Hawaiian scenery.
Health (Lionsgate, 1979) C-100 min. D: Robert Altman. Lauren Bacall, Carol Burnett, Dick Cavett, Glenda Jackson, Alfre Woodard.
We had a lot of fun making it, especially playing practical jokes on Dick Cavett, who took everything we could throw at him with grace and good humor. (Dick and I became instant pals.) It was a privilege and a pleasure to play opposite Carol and to work with Betty Bacall.
I loved Bob Altman. He gave actors tremendous freedom. Though we had completely different approaches—he hated scripts, I loved them—I enjoyed every minute of it. Bob was a true maverick and he had guts: he’d think nothing of starting a movie before he had all the financing, and he thumbed his nose at the studios. My kind of guy.
The Fan ½ (Filmways, 1981) C-95 min. D: Edward Bianchi. Lauren Bacall, Maureen Stapleton, Hector Elizondo, Dana Delany.
Can there be more than one “worst-picture-I-ever-made”? The only saving grace was working with Betty Bacall again—we also did a Rockford together that wasn’t all that bad. She’s a wonderful actress and a beautiful woman. And so feisty. I just love her.
Victor/Victoria ½ (MGM, 1982) C-132 min. D: Blake Edwards. Julie Andrews, Robert Preston, Leslie Ann Warren, Alex Karras.
My second chance to work with Julie, and it was a great experience because she’s a great lady and a wonderful actress and singer. I wanted to ask Blake for the Robert Preston role, but my friend John Crawford talked me out of it. He said nobody would accept me as gay, but I wanted to try it.
Blake wrote most of the scripts he directed and he made good movies: Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Days of Wine and Roses, The Pink Panther, The Great Race, 10. He was easy to work with, a total professional. He could get cranky if the set was too noisy and he had to shut everybody up, but he was open to suggestions and created a good atmosphere to work in. Blake was the first director I’d worked with who used video. He’d shoot a scene and then play it back for the actors. I never liked to see myself acting, but I would look at the video occasionally to see if a stunt looked right.
There’s a scene in which I kiss Julie, who plays a woman posing as a man posing as a woman. In an early draft of the script, my character kisses her before he’s sure she’s a woman. Blake said he chickened out and wrote it so I know she’s a woman. I’d love to have done it the first way.
Tank (United International Pictures, 1984) C-113 min. D: Marvin J. Chomsky. Shirley Jones, C. Thomas Howell, G. D. Spradlin, James Cromwell.
Just a workaday movie with nothing outstanding about it. I had fun making it, though, because I got to drive a Sherman tank and crash into things.
Murphy’s Romance (Columbia, 1985) C-107 min. D: Martin Ritt. Sally Field, Brian Kerwin, Corey Haim.
A sweet, American story about a normal guy and a normal girl, except for the age difference. Wonderful script by the husband-and-wife team of Harriet Frank and Irving Ravetch from the novella by Max Schott.
Sally’s character is always asking me my age, but I won’t tell. In the last scene, we’re outside her house and she asks me to stay for dinner. I say, “I won’t have dinner unless I stay for breakfast.” “How do like your eggs?” she says. On the way through the door, I tell her: “I’m sixty.” I cheated: I was only fifty-eight at the time. (See pages 203–6.)
Sunset (TriStar, 1988) C-107 min. D: Blake Edwards. Bruce Willis, Mariel Hemingway, Malcolm McDowell, Kathleen Quinlan.
Wyatt Earp and Tom Mix team up to solve a Hollywood murder. Blake had wanted Robert Duvall but got Bruce Willis instead, who ad-libbed all through the picture. At one point, I took him aside and gave him some friendly advice: “No matter what you think, you’re not a better writer than Blake Edwards.” He didn’t listen. He just wasn’t serious about the work. I’ve heard he’s changed since then, and if so, more power to him.
The Distinguished Gentleman ? (Hollywood Pictures, 1992) C-112 min. D: Jonathan Lynn. Eddie Murphy, Joe Don Baker, Charles S. Dutton, Kevin McCarthy.
I can’t remember a thing about this picture. I can live with that.
Fire in the Sky (Paramount, 1993) C-106 min. D: Robert Lieberman. Robert Patrick, D. B. Sweeney, Henry Thomas.
Based on a supposedly true story of alien abduction in Arizona. Whether the incident actually happened, I don’t presume we’re the smartest thing in the universe. It’s big out there. (Maybe we’re somebody’s golf ball.)
Maverick (Warner Bros., 1994) C-129 min. D: Richard Donner. Mel Gibson, Jodie Foster, James Coburn, Alfred Molina, Graham Greene.
Mel bought the rights to Maverick from Warner Bros. because, he told me, it was one of his favorite shows when he was a kid and he’d always wanted to play the character. Dick Donner, whom Mel had worked with in the Lethal Weapon pictures, had wanted Paul Newman as Zane Cooper, but Paul wasn’t interested, so they decided to hire the original Bret Maverick.
Mel and I got along fine. I didn’t know that he hates Jews and everybody else. I didn’t know he was drinking, either, because he held it pretty good. But when I came on the set, I thought, What are these people doing? Mel didn’t know his dialogue and we had to improvise a lot. He wouldn’t rehearse, either. He was just running off at the mouth on camera. I thought it was nuts, but Dick Donner assured me Mel knew what he was doing. Jodie and I looked at each other and figured we might as well join in. When we got through with it, I’m sure William Goldman didn’t recognize his movie.
Of course, I loved working with Jodie—I had fallen in love with her when we did One Little Indian when she was a little girl.
My Fellow Americans (Warner Bros., 1996) C-101 min. D: Peter Segal. Jack Lemmon, Lauren Bacall, Dan Aykroyd, John Heard, Wilford Brimley.
Jack and I are ex-presidents trying to expose a kickback scandal. It was the first and only time I worked with him. Such a sweet man. He was a joy to work with: thoughtful, generous, always prepared.
Jack had a black standard French poodle named Chloe who went everywhere with him. She always rode shotgun in his Aston Martin, even when there were other people in the car, she flew with him in the first-class cabin—they were inseparable. Chloe was a bit of a princess who drank nothing but Evian water, but she was obedient to Jack. When they were on a soundstage, Chloe knew exactly how to behave.
One day we were about to do a scene in which Jack was seated at a desk. While we were rehearsing, Chloe roamed the set. When it was time to roll the camera, she plopped down under the desk. When the director yelled “Action!” she froze and didn’t move a muscle or make a peep until she heard the word “Cut!” That dog took direction better than some actors I’ve worked with.
I wish the director were so professional. He was a self-appointed genius who didn’t know his ass from second base, and Jack and I both knew it. He had no idea where to put the camera, he didn’t know what he wanted, and he was a whiner. The movie could have been a lot better.
Twilight (Cinehaus, 1998) C-94 min. D: Robert Benton. Paul Newman, Susan Sarandon, Gene Hackman, Reese Witherspoon, Stockard Channing.
I play a minor character in this mystery set in Los Angeles. I w
as attracted by Richard Russo’s intelligent script. I don’t mind doing a small part. I’ve always felt that any time you have a film where you’ve got one or two really good scenes, it’s worth doing.
Space Cowboys ½ (Warner Bros., 2000) C-129 min. D: Clint Eastwood. Tommy Lee Jones, Donald Sutherland, Clint Eastwood, Marcia Gay Harden, James Cromwell, William Devane.
Space Geezers. When we shot it Clint was seventy-two, Donald was sixty-six, Tommy Lee was fifty-three, and I was seventy-two.
I’ve known Clint for about a thousand years. He was in a Maverick episode in 1959. We were playing golf one day and I said, “We should work together more often than every forty years,” and about a year later he hired me for Space Cowboys.
Clint makes it look easy and gives you a great environment to work in. But he lied to me: That scene where we all show our butts— Clint told me the other guys were going to do it, so I said I would, too. But he’d told Tommy and Donald that I agreed to do it. He conned us all into dropping our trousers.
Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood ½ (Warner Bros., 2002) C-117 min. D: Callie Khouri. Sandra Bullock, Ellen Burstyn, Maggie Smith, Shirley Knight, Ashley Judd, Fionnula Flanagan. Angus Macfadyen.
All those wonderful women! I got to play Sandra Bullock’s father and Ellen Burstyn’s husband. It’s a strange marriage . . . but aren’t they all?
The Notebook (New Line, 2004) C-123 min. D: Nick Cassavetes. Gena Rowlands, Ryan Gosling, Rachel McAdams, Sam Shepard, Joan Allen.
A magnificent love story based on the Nicholas Sparks bestseller. (See pages 207–9.)
The Ultimate Gift (Fox Faith, 2007) C-117 min. D: Michael O. Sajbel. Drew Fuller, Ali Hillis, Bill Cobbs, Brian Dennehy, Lee Merriwether.
I play a dead man. Not typecasting, I hope.
Television
SERIES
Maverick (1957–61)
The training ground where I learned my craft. (See chapter 3.)
Nichols (1971–72)
Nichols is a drifter who returns to his Arizona hometown in 1914 and reluctantly becomes its sheriff. (See pages 189–92.)
The Rockford Files (1974–80)
Still in syndication and streaming on the Internet, whatever that is. (See chapter 7.)
Bret Maverick (1981–82)
Twenty years after the original Maverick series, Bret wants to settle down, so he rides into Sweetwater, where he wins $50,000 and the deed to a saloon in a poker game. But somebody swipes the fifty grand and the saloon turns out to be a losing proposition. Unfortunately, so did Bret Maverick.
Man of the People (1991)
The series, in which I play a scam artist appointed to my late wife’s city council seat, was short-lived and rightly so.
Chicago Hope (1994)
A David E. Kelley production with good scripts and good actors. I enjoyed the few episodes I did as a ruthless head of an HMO who comes in and cuts the budget.
God, the Devil and Bob (2000)
A controversial animated show in which I provide the voice of God. It’s a shame we went out of business so soon, because I loved playing God.
First Monday (2002)
I played a conservative US Supreme Court justice ( act-ing!). Loved working with Charles Durning.
8 Simple Rules (2003–05)
I joined the cast for a guest shot after John Ritter’s untimely death and stayed until the series ended. Everyone made it very nice for me. The writing was good, and I enjoyed working with Katey Sagal, David Spade, and Suzanne Pleshette.
I never used to like working with children. For a long time I thought they were unpredictable and, well, unprofessional. But Amy Davidson, Kaley Cuoco, and Martin Spanjers were terrific. Who cares if they steal a scene? If any actor can steal a scene from me, they’re welcome to it.
MINISERIES
Space (1985)
A big-bucks production based on James Michener’s best-selling book. I’m not nuts about the miniseries format: you work one day, then you’re off for three weeks. I like to work every day and immerse myself in a role. But James Michener was on the set a lot and that was a treat.
Larry McMurtry’s Streets of Laredo (1995)
The sequel to Lonesome Dove. I play aging bounty hunter Woodrow Call chasing a bandit who’s been robbing the railroad. I’d been slated to do the Robert Duvall part in the original, but I got sick. Bobby was so good, I didn’t really mind losing the part.
Great cast: Sissy Spacek, Sam Shepard, Sonia Braga, Randy Quaid, Ned Beatty, George Carlin, Wes Studi, Charles Martin Smith.
Mark Twain’s Roughing It (2001)
Mark Twain was one of our greatest writers, of course, and I admire him a lot, but it was a little scary to play him. I don’t think I did a very good job, but I enjoyed the experience, especially working with Charles Martin Smith, who did a fine job of directing.
TELEVISION MOVIES
The Rockford Files (1974)
The first of a series of made-for-television Rockford movies, as they were called back then.
The New Maverick (1978)
Charles Frank in a Maverick revival attempt that didn’t quite make it.
Bret Maverick (1981)
We had to stop production for two months after I got thrown off a mechanical horse and broke a bunch of ribs.
The Long Summer of George Adams (1982)
Stuart Margolin directed and composed the music for this delightful film about a railroad worker in the 1950s whose job has been made obsolete by technology. I treasured the experience of working with Stuart again, and I always loved Joan Hackett.
Heartsounds (1984)
Based on the autobiographical book by Martha Weinman Lear about her husband’s struggle with heart disease. Norman Lear produced—Hal Lear was his cousin—and Glenn Jordan directed. Mary Tyler Moore and I had never met before, but it was a joy to work with her. She had instigated the project, and she really threw herself into the part of Martha Weinman Lear.
The cast members were all staying at the same hotel in Toronto and there was a fire in the middle of the night, so I banged on Mary’s door and shouted to wake her up. We walked down eighteen flights together with her insisting all the way that I probably saved her life. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. Turned out the fire wasn’t serious—probably somebody cooking cucumbers with Sterno.
I think they may have begun to think about me differently after Heartsounds. At least that’s what I hoped. I wanted them to see that I could do something other than a cocky detective.
The Glitter Dome (1984)
I play a senator who goes from age thirty-five to sixty-five. Shooting it, on any given day, I didn’t know how old I was. I was forty-five in the morning, sixty in the afternoon.
Promise (1985)
Our first Cherokee production for Hallmark and my first collaboration with Jimmy Woods. (See pages 192–95.)
My Name Is Bill W. (1989)
The founding of Alcoholics Anonymous, through the eyes of Bill Wilson and Bob Smith. (See pages 195–201.)
Decoration Day (1990)
An African American World War II vet (Bill Cobbs) turns down the Medal of Honor to protest discrimination in the military. I play a retired judge who tries to get the medal for him decades later. My wife had died, I’d withdrawn from life, and I was content to sit in a boat with my dog. (“She knows the English language but can’t speak a word of it.”) Most of the characters I play are people who try to do the right thing. In this case, he was trying to get other people (the government) to do the right thing.
I supplied my own wardrobe. I got an Indiana Jones hat out of my closet—Stu Margolin had given it to me—and cut the brim down a little bit. The pants and the fishing vest are mine, too. I think it’s always better if you can wear your own things.
Barbarians at the Gate (1993)
All about the takeover mania of the 1980s and ’90s. The sheer gall of those guys, ripping companies apart, saddling them with all that debt, putting all those people out of jobs. I ha
dn’t read the book, because high finance and rotten people don’t interest me. But I loved Larry Gelbart’s script. Larry was a great satiric writer. He was funny and, boy, he had a knife! But he was a pussycat of a man.
People said I made Ross Johnson into a nice guy, but I didn’t deviate from the script. He was no hero, but he wasn’t exactly a villain, either. I think he was just a salesman who got in over his head. I haven’t done any out-and-out villains; they don’t hire me for that because of the persona I’ve had for forty-five years. I think they hire me to make a bad guy a little more presentable, but I never play an outand-out killer.
It was going to be a feature, but Columbia dropped it from the schedule as part of an austerity program. The producer, Ray Stark, went to cable and it was great fun. Later they put it on Fox and ruined it. They wanted me to loop dialogue for the broadcast version, but I refused. I hate the way that looks—your lips are doing one thing and your voice is doing another. I said, “Go get somebody else,” and they did, some guy in town who sounded like me.
Breathing Lessons (1994)
Joanne Woodward and I play an old married couple who have nothing in common except their love for each other. (See pages 206–7.)
Rockford Files: I Still Love L.A. (1994)
The theme song was slower and so was I. Practically everybody from the original series came back to do the TV movies, though we’d lost “Pidge”—Noah Beery Jr.—in the interim. We did eight Rockford movies in all:
Rockford Files: A Blessing in Disguise (1995)
Rockford Files: If the Frame Fits (1996)
Rockford Files: Godfather Knows Best (1996)
Rockford Files: Friends and Foul Play (1996)
Rockford Files: Punishment and Crime (1996)
Rockford Files: Murder and Misdemeanors (1997)
Rockford Files: If It Bleeds . . . It Leads (1999)
Dead Silence (1997)
I’m an FBI negotiator trying to secure the release of a busload of deaf kids. Marlee Matlin and Lolita Davidovich starred.
Legalese (1998)
A bit convoluted, but I’m a slick defense lawyer defending Gina Gershon’s character after she shoots her brother-in-law. I think. I loved working with Glenn Jordan again.
