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Interviews from the world of film and television!

Film & TV, Q and A, Sports

Eric Braeden – Despicable V

Written By: Michael D. McClellan |Victor Newman wasn’t supposed to hang around the fictional town of Genoa City, Wisconsin, this long. The conniving businessman first appeared on CBS’s The Young and the Restless way back in 1980, when he was written into the plot for an eight-to-twelve week run. That was more than long enough for Eric Braeden, who wasn’t convinced he wanted to make his living on a daytime soap opera, not when he’d been plenty busy in Hollywood since landing there in 1960 with $500 in his pocket and zero acting experience on his resumé. Tall, athletic, and unnervingly handsome, the German-born actor had racked up  120 TV and film credits during his first two decades in show business, appearing in everything from The Rat Patrol to Hawaii Five-O to Gunsmoke, so, for Braeden – born Hans Gudegast in Kiel, Germany, at the height of World War II – a short-term commitment was plenty long enough to test the waters. Talk about a plot twist: Turns out the despicable, contemptible, unfaithful wife abuser wasn’t killed off as originally scripted, not with a nationwide audience swooning over the show’s dangerous new character and CBS execs taking notice of the ratings spike. Producer William Joseph Bell promptly offered Braeden a role as a series regular, and Braeden has spent the past 40 years turning Victor Newman into soap opera’s leading male figure.

“What a ride it has been,” he says in his recognizable low-toned voice. “I am enormously grateful to the writers and my fellow actors, and most importantly, to Bill Bell.”

Since arriving in Genoa City, on business, Newman has formed his own worldwide conglomerate, forged a supercouple pairing with stripper Nikki Reed (Melody Scott Thomas), cheated on Nikki with Ashley Abbott (Eileen Marie Davidson), had a son who grew up without knowledge of Victor being his father (Adam Newman, played by Justin Hartley), and engaged in a long-running business rivalry with Jack Abbott (Peter Bergman). Forty years of twists and turns jump-started by a conversation that Braeden had with his tennis partner, comedic actor Dabney Coleman, who had logged a stint playing a doctor on the NBC soap Bright Promise from 1971-72.

Eric Braeden (far right) – “The Young and the Restless”

“He said, ‘Do it. You’ll love it,’” Braeden recalls. “Upon that advice, I agreed to come in for an interview.”

Braeden not only developed an instant rapport with Bell, he thrived on the grueling pace of soap opera production. After four-plus decades of working on a show that typically shoots 100 to 120 pages a day, Braeden can’t imagine toiling at the pace of what he calls “nighttime TV.”

“That would bore the shit out of me,” he says flatly. “I have no interest in it.”

Braeden’s character has since found himself entangled in hundreds of storylines, from amnesia, to near death experiences, to more than a dozen on-screen marriages. But it’s Victor’s layered backstory, as a child abandoned by his parents who rose to fortune and fame, that Braeden says makes the character so fulfilling to play.

“He’s on one hand tough, ruthless, does whatever he has to, but he’s also vulnerable. He wants to be loved and he wants to love, but he can’t really. He’s a loner. It’s a fantastic part.”

Eric Braeden as German Capt. Hans Dietrich in “The Rat Patrol”
Courtesy ABC-publicity

The odds of Braeden landing such a role in the first place – much less making it his own and turning it into one of the most iconic characters in the history of daytime television – were practically unfathomable as a young child growing up in war-torn Germany. His father’s death plunged the family into poverty, and the prospects of a prosperous future appeared dim. Braeden’s work ethic and athletic frame led to a track scholarship at the University of Montana, as well as an opportunity to conquer Idaho’s notorious Salmon River – otherwise known as ‘The River of No Return.’ The resulting documentary film delivered $500 and a bus ride to Los Angeles. Determined to stick, Braeden moved into a cheap hotel room and started parking cars.

“I knew nothing about how Hollywood worked, and I had no acting experience. The unknown was worth the risk to me – I had first dissected cadavers at the John Sealy Hospital in Galveston, Texas, where a German cousin of mine was a doctor. Then I ventured from that to Montana. I was a cowboy on a ranch outside of Missoula. I worked at a lumber mill. Trying my hand at acting was my ticket out.”

That Greyhound bus ride came during the fall of 1960. A year later he landed his first uncredited role in something called Operation Eichmann, a fictional hunt for the architect of Hitler’s atrocities. From there, Braeden kept working and never looked back, scoring roles in Mission: Impossible, Marcus Welby, M.D., Barnaby Jones, CHiPs, Kojak, Cannon, Mannix, and The Six Million Dollar Man. At one point, Braeden was even a serious candidate to replace Sean Connery as James Bond. He’s acted in James Cameron’s Titanic, and produced and starred in his own feature film, The Man Who Came Back. He’s been honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. A decorated career by any measure, and one capped by that 40-year run as Victor Newman – a role for which Braeden is eternally grateful.

Eric Braeden (left) as John Jacob Astor in “Titanic”
Courtesy Twentieth-Century-Fox

“The fans have been tremendous,” he says. “Their support over the years has been the one constant that makes playing the role of Victor Newman so rewarding, and the big reason it has been so easy to stick around for so long.”

With that, the legendary actor with the charming-but-despicable alter-ego settles in for the interview, and the stories pour out – tales of playing tennis with princes, of making movies with Brando and Brynner, and of sharing the silver screen with a young Leonardo DiCaprio. All of them connected to those forty years of scripted ruthlessness and bound together by a lifetime of hard work.

Eric Braeden might be an acting legend, but he’s earned it every step of the way.

There’s nothing despicable about that.

I hope you’re staying safe during this coronavirus pandemic. How do you occupy your time?

All of the studios are either closed or locked down. I don’t mind it, to be honest with you, I really don’t. I get to read a lot, and I love that. I read five publications a day – newspapers from Germany, The Guardian, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Wall Street Journal – not from front to back, obviously, but I do read the opinion sections and the most important articles. I work out a lot. I talk to my family. It makes time go by very fast. It really is not that difficult right now, as long as one stays away from that virus.


Did you ever envision a world like the COVID-19 world we’re living in today?

I live in a beautiful area, so I’m very fortunate that way. My heart goes out to those that don’t know where their next meal is coming from, or how to pay their rent. That bothers me a great deal, because I have been there. I have felt that pain, you know? There’s nothing worse than being in financial need. It’s the worst. It’s a killer. I lived through those times after the war in Germany, and I’ve seen what it did to the people that fell victim to it. We didn’t have hot running water. We had an outhouse. My first years over here were not easy either, so I know what it means to wonder whether you can pay your rent or not. It’s not a good feeling. Anyway, I feel for those people who are suffering because they’ve lost their jobs…waitresses, people in the service industry…it’s tough man. It’s awful.

Eric Braeden as Dr. Otto Hasslein in “Escape from the Planet of the Apes” (1971)
Courtesy Twentieth Century Fox

Take me back to the beginning. You were born in Germany, at the height of World War II.

I was born in Kiel, Germany, during World War II. The city was bombed heavily during that time. In fact, the Allies dropped about 500,000 bombs on Kiel between 1941 and the end of the war in 1945, during which time 90% of the city was destroyed. There were 200 women giving birth in the basement of the hospital because of the bombing, and we barely made it out alive.


You are no stranger to hard times. Please tell me about your childhood.

I grew up in the German village of Bredenbek, which was the kind of farm country where all you saw was people working from sun up to sun down. My father had a trucking business, and he used his trucks to build roads and oil bunkers and all kinds of stuff. He had four or five drivers. I remember them starting very early in the morning and working all day. We wound up with nothing when my father died, and we plunged into poverty. At that point I started working on the farms around the village, so I’ve made my own money since I was 12 years old. I never got a penny from anyone. I don’t know any differently. It was hard work. During harvest time, I cleaned out horse stalls. By the way, horse manure smells good compared to cow manure, compared to pig manure, compared to chicken manure. I am very grateful to my childhood in many ways, although, to be frank with you, I can do without the poverty. Sometimes people romanticize poverty. My ass. Poverty is terrible. It’s the worst.

Eric Braeden (left) as Von Klemme in “100 Rifles” (1969)
Courtesy Twentieth Century Fox

There’s an old African proverb that it takes a village to raise a child.

The great thing about growing up in a small village is that everybody knows you, so that adage is very true in my case. People looked out for you. They made sure you stayed out of trouble, and they were always there when you needed them. So yes, the village did help raise me to a certain extent. For that I’m thankful. Those were tough times after my father died. That stayed with me for decades. I was close to my dad. We were four boys at home and he was a man’s man, and a goodhearted man. I miss him to this day.


What was school like for a young Eric Braeden?

We had fights at school almost every day. It wasn’t this politically correct bullshit that prevails in schools today where they have fights, and it’s like, “Oh my God, call the parents, and call the school psychologist.” No, we fought it out. Boom. End of story.

Funny thing about those schoolyard fights. The teacher would come out, and everyone would make a circle around us and watch. If the fight got too bad, the teacher would say, “Okay, that’s enough.” That was it. Then when you went off into the school and went to class. If the score was unsettled then you waited for that guy outside of school, in some lonely country park, and you beat the shit out of him.


You’re world renowned for portraying Victor Newman in The Young and the Restless, but you were also an outstanding athlete.

I grew up in track and field in Germany, and I won the junior youth championship with my team. My disciplines were discus, javelin, and shot put. We won the German championship, and a year later I came to America. I had a scholarship in track and field, at the University of Montana in Missoula.

Eric Braeden in “Colossus The Forbin Project”
Courtesy Universal-Pictures

Please tell me about your track and field career at the University of Montana.

It was a very demanding period in my life. My scholarship only covered tuition and didn’t cover living expenses, so I got a job and worked from six in the evening until two in the morning in a lumber mill outside of Missoula. I worked on the green chain, pulling lumber for those eight hours. My first lecture was at eight in the morning, and I didn’t arrive home until 3 a.m., so you can imagine how many hours one slept. Then I had classes all morning, followed by track and field practice in the afternoon. I would try to sleep for an hour before I went back to work, so it was not a very good time, to be quite frank with you.


How hard was it for you to leave your homeland and move to the United States?

It was hard in that Germany is where I was born and raised, but I’ve been in awe of this country from the very beginning. I must say, one of the pleasant surprises about coming to America was how welcoming the people were. I didn’t go anywhere that I wasn’t welcomed. I can honestly say that America has been wonderful and very hospitable in that way. I think Americans, in their DNA, remember that their forefathers were immigrants as well, you know? It’s basically a welcoming and openhearted country. There are no two ways about that.

I also have to say that Americans appreciate it if you are good at something. It doesn’t make any difference where you came from or what you had done before. If you are good, bingo. It’s different than Europe in that sense. This is truly a country of unlimited possibilities. All of those clichés are true. It’s tough, no question. I am deeply grateful to this country.

Eric Braeden as Jack Sinclair in “Gunsmoke” (1971)
Courtesy CBS Television Network

How did you end up in Hollywood?

I had a girlfriend, and her girlfriend’s boyfriend wanted to make a documentary film about a river trip on the Salmon River in Idaho. The Salmon River is known as ‘The River of No Return.’ Well, he was something of a tough, adventurous guy, and he couldn’t find anyone to go with him. I asked, “What’s the upshot?” He said that no one had ever gone up and down the Salmon River because everyone knew how dangerous it was, and that we could be the first – and we would have a documentary film that we could then take with us to California. I said, flatly, “I’m in.” Anything to get the hell out of Montana. Montana might have been beautiful, but to me it was working at a lumber mill from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m.

It was an experience of a lifetime. The Salmon River is full of rapids, hence the name, ‘The River of No Return.’ Going down the river is one thing, but going down and up is a completely different story. Try to imagine going up those rapids, and fighting through them in a 50-foot aluminum Crestline boat with a 40-horsepower Johnson motor outside. When you’d hit the rapids you’d just you inch along, and then, if you hit the wrong spot, you’d lose power. You were always in danger of flipping over. It was damned dangerous.

Well, we made that river trip and we were successful. We took the film with us on a Greyhound bus and went to Los Angeles, where we did a press conference arranged by Johnson Motors and Alcoa. We each got 500 bucks. He went back to his fiancée, who was pregnant at the time, and I stayed. I didn’t know a soul here. It didn’t matter. I had 500 bucks in my pocket, so I rented a room in a cheap hotel and started parking cars. Then I worked for a furniture moving company. That’s how I came to LA.


Take me back to those early years in Hollywood. Was it hard breaking into acting?

You hear all of the stories about how hard it is to work as a professional actor in Hollywood. This is largely true. It’s a cutthroat business, and the odds are not in your favor. For me, coming from war-torn Germany, those obstacles weren’t something that I really dwelled on. I pushed on and I persevered.

Starting out, my first role was playing a Nazi in a television series called Combat!. Then I played a Nazi in The Rat Patrol. I used to play all kinds of heavies – a Russian heavy, a French heavy, an English heavy, whatever…as long as they paid, I didn’t give a damn. I was one of the few people working. I must say the business has been very good to me. I was rarely turned down. That rarely happened, except for James Bond.

Eric Braeden as Victor Newman in “The Young and the Restless”
Courtesy CBS Television Network

Eric Braeden as James Bond?

They found out that I was German, so that was the end of that. But they were interested. When Sean Connery said no for the first time, they were looking for another one. The producer, Cubby Broccoli, had seen me in a film called Colossus, and he was interested. We had lunch and he asked if I still had a British passport. I learned British English and German in high school, and every so often I fall back into that, so when they found out that I was German that was the end of that story.


The Rat Patrol was a hit. Please tell me about this experience.

We did the pilot in Yuma, Arizona, and filmed the first 16 segments in Almería, which is located in the South of Spain. This was 1966. We filmed in Almería because they have desert-like areas there. It’s a fascinating area with a mixture of cultures. In the midst of all that, you had the Gypsies – they were called Gitanos – who lived in mountain caves. They sang beautiful, heartfelt songs. Because I played soccer with most of them in-between scenes, and because they liked that I spoke some Spanish, they invited me and my wife to the cuevas – the caves – at night to list to the music.

Francisco Franco was still the dictator in Spain at the time we were filming The Rat Patrol, so everything was hush-hush. You didn’t talk politics. The South of Spain held out the longest against Franco during the Spanish Civil War – in Almería, particularly. They called Almería “el culo del mundo” – the asshole of the world – because it had held out so long against Franco. I remember seeing all of these destroyed buildings and houses with bullet holes, all of it from the revolution in 1936. It was a fascinating time to be there. You had this present-day dictatorship, and then you had this medieval Catholicism that had taken root when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella came to power in the 1400s. They were the ones who sponsored Columbus’s trip to the Americas. Until then, much of Spain was under Muslim rule. When they came to power, they threw out the Muslims.

Eric Braeden as German Capt. Hans Dietrich in “The Rat Patrol”
Courtesy ABC-publicity

The Rat Patrol wasn’t the only time you filmed in the South of Spain.

I went back there two years later and did a film called 100 Rifles with Jim Brown, Burt Reynolds, and Raquel Welch. We actually filmed in the same area. When we did The Rat Patrol, Clint Eastwood was doing one of those Spaghetti Westerns in the same area.


You have acted with a Who’s Who of Hollywood royalty, including the late, great Marlon Brando. What was that like?

To be frank with you, I’m just very fortunate. I’ve worked with a lot of fantastic people. One of my first films was a film called Morituri, starring Marlon Brando and Yul Brynner. We filmed onboard a ship off Catalina Island. I think the captain was from New Zealand and the crew was Chinese.

Marlon and I did a scene together, and afterwards we starting talking and became friendly. We talked about politics and history, mostly. He was interested in German history, especially recent German history, and Nazi history in particular. He was also very concerned with civil rights and Native Americans at the time, so we had some interesting conversations. He was an interesting character. And let me tell you, Marlon Brando was a damned good athlete. He was a stocky guy, and strong. We used to throw the football outside on the stages of 20th Century Fox between scenes and talk history. He had a good arm.

Yul Brynner was one of the greatest storytellers of all time. Truly, that guy could tell stories in five languages. Most people say, “I can speak a second language,” or, “I can speak in several languages.” Bullshit. They speak a little bit of something. Yul Brynner was fluent in five languages. He was a genuinely bright guy and one of the best raconteurs that I think I’ve ever met.

Interestingly, Yul and Marlon didn’t like each other. They were both tough guys.


As an actor, did you learn anything from your side jobs that you were able to take with you to the studio?

I learned how to curse in English, and I will tell you how. I was working for a furniture moving company in Los Angeles. I was working a job in West Los Angeles with an old geezer – and old American guy – and we were carrying a refrigerator up a flight of stairs for an old lady. He was on the top of the fridge and I was on the bottom. The old lady was telling us not to hit this and that, not to damage the wall, not to bump the handrail. Well, we’re barely holding onto this fridge and doing our best to make it up these creaky stairs. Finally, my partner says, “Lady, will you shut the fuck up?” I will never forget that moment. I love the expression. It’s imprinted in my mind. I remember being in that moment and trying to translate that expression into German. Shut the fuck up. And I thought to myself, “Wait a minute – he’s turning a verb into a noun!” I will never forget the moment. I remember the time of day, I remember where on the steps I was when he said it. I loved it. It sounded wonderful. Shut the fuck up.


Let’s talk about The Young and the Restless. Congratulations on 40 years as part of the cast!

First of all, the fact that one has been steadily employed for 40 years is a luxury one can really only appreciate when you work in this business. Because, I’ve been working more or less steadily since 1962, long before I joined Y&R. I’ve acted in The Rat Patrol, Mission: Impossible, Mannix…the list goes on and on. So I’ve just been very fortunate in that I’ve never really been unemployed for a long time. That is not the typical life of an actor.

Y&R of course, has been a blessing. There are so many fond memories, such as Victor Newman meeting his mother for the first time, played by Dorothy McGuire, and, of course, Victor meeting his father, played by George Kennedy. What a wonderful man, George Kennedy. He subsequently did a film of mine called The Man Who Came Back. I have the deepest respect for George Kennedy. He was a big man, about 6-foot-4 and 300 pounds, and just the nicest human being. Tough guy. Very smart. A wonderful actor. A gentleman of the old school. Sean Young used to set almost by his feet in between scenes, and he would tell her stories of Hollywood. I was greatly saddened by his passing.

I’ve done some very memorable scenes with Jack Abbott and Peter Bergman. They were also wonderful actors to work with. And also Melody Thomas Scott, who plays Nikki. Our characters have had our ups and downs on the show, and I love working with her. I adore her as a human being.

Eric Braeden as Victor Newman in “The Young and the Restless”
Courtesy WATCH

You played a friendly tennis match with fellow actor Dabney Coleman in the late 1970s. That match helped you land the iconic role as conniving business mogul Victor Newman.

Dabney and I met through acting and shared a love of tennis. Do you know Alex Olmedo, who won Wimbledon in 1959? Alex and Dabney used to play tennis regularly, and I would play with them on occasion. Well, we were playing tennis one afternoon, and I had recently learned that this role on a daytime soap had opened up. Dabney had done a soap at one time or another, so I asked him what it was all about. He said, “Do it. You’ll love it.” I didn’t watch daytime television, so I didn’t even know that they had that kind of stuff on daytime television. I didn’t know what the hell it was. I had no clue. But Dabney is a serious actor and I trusted him. Had I not gotten that recommendation, I wouldn’t have gone to the casting call. The rest is a 40 year history.


The Young and the Restless is a big part of people’s lives.

What has really impressed me as an actor – and this has only happened because of Y&R – is the enormous influence one has on people’s lives. I never realized that until I became Victor Newman. I’ve done more than 120 guest shots over the years, appearing on everything from Hawaii Five-O to Gunsmoke to The F.B.I. and on and on, but I never realized what an effect we have on people just by doing what we do. Y&R taught me that.

Before Y&R, I had never gone out and done a public appearance on behalf of a show. Never. Then Doug Davidson and I, who plays Detective Paul Williams, went to a huge market just outside of Toronto, the biggest market in North America. I will never forget it. There were 15,000 people crammed into a little area in that big market, and all of them were there just to see us. I looked at Doug and said, “Are you serious?” But that’s example of the impact that we have on people’s lives. We reach between four and five million people every week. It’s just extraordinary.

Eric Braeden as Victor Newman in “The Young and the Restless”
Courtesy CBS Television Network

You’ve been playing Victor Newman since 1980. There have been fans who’ve been there with you every step of the way.

I really, really appreciate the fans, to be honest with you. Other than the income we make, which is nice, the most satisfying thing is to know that you impact people’s lives. Wherever I’ve gone, I’ve had such wonderful experiences with the fans. I’ve made two appearances in Charleston, West Virginia over the years, in the middle of one of your malls. I will never forget that, for example.


Victor Newman is an iconic character. Are you ever surprised by the fame that has come along with it?

It has been enormously humbling. There are several examples that come to mind. I remember playing in a tennis tournament in Monte Carlo. I’m sitting with my wife and son at a table, and Harry Belafonte, who was part of the whole thing, walked over and said, “Would you mind saying hello to the people at the table over there? They would love to meet you.” I said that it would be my pleasure, so I got up and walked over and shook hands. They were very nice. They spoke French, and a little English, so we made small talk, bah-bah-bah, and then Harry took me back to my table. I politely asked him who they were, and he a very surprised look on his face. He said, “You don’t know who they are?” I said that I had no idea. He said, “That was President Habib Bourguiba of Tunisia. He and his family watch the show.”

Another time I was in Istanbul with some of the cast, and we were invited to appear on TV by a station there. Tansu Çiller, the Prime Minister of Turkey, was throwing a big party later that evening. Melody Thomas Scoot, who plays Nikki, went to the party with me. We were treated like rock stars. And I thought, “You must be kidding. This can’t be true.”

 In Israel I was invited to the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, and had conversations with Shimon Peres about politics. So it has been wonderful in that sense.


In your critically acclaimed autobiography, I’ll Be Damned: How My Young and Restless Life Led Me to America’s #1 Daytime Drama, you write about Mikhail Gorbachev and President Ronald Reagan. Tell me about that.

I was able to give a speech for Mikhail Gorbachev when he was here in Los Angeles and, afterwards, Nancy Reagan invited me to give a similar speech for Ronald Reagan. It was a tremendous honor, because both men were such historically significant personalities. Growing up in a small German village, I never dreamed that one day I might be giving speeches to two of the most powerful people on earth.

In terms of their historical significance, I call Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev the two most important men in the second half of the 20th century. People always look at me and say, “Why is that?” and I say that it’s because they prevented a third world war. People forget how close we were to a war with Russia. Whatever I think of Mikhail Gorbachev and Ronald Reagan politically or otherwise is beside the point. That is an extraordinary accomplishment. Think about it. Two people met from two different philosophies, one being a harsh capitalist the other being a hardline communist, but they found something in common as human beings. I will never forget it. People have no clue as to how close we were to war, and how important it was that Ronald Reagan was willing to reach out to Gorbachev as a human being. I think Nancy had a lot to do with it, and her contributions were absolutely critical.


We could use some of that to help heal the divisions in the United States today.

This whole rift between liberals and conservatives in America, and all of this ideological bullshit going back and forth…you know, if you just got to know each other a little bit more, and you sat down somewhere and had a beer and a tequila and began to shoot the shit, you would begin to like each other as human beings.


I’ve heard that a soap opera averages 80 pages of script per day. How does that compare to an evening drama, or even a feature film?

Eighty pages is the low end. There are some days that go up to 100-to-120 pages. It’s insane. The great thing about daytime is that I come in, I concentrate like crazy, focus like crazy, learn that stuff, and then I make it as real as I can. The most I’ve ever done personally is 62 pages in one day. Many of us routinely do 20, 30, 40 pages a day.

A feature film is nothing compared to that. Unless I starred in it, I would not be interested in films anymore because they are too boring. You spend most of your time sitting around on the set waiting for other people to do their job. If I had continued doing nighttime television or film, I would have been directing by now. Daytime television is what keeps you on your toes. You’ve got to cram that shit and make it your own.


You played the character John Jacob Astor IV in James Cameron’s Titanic. There were a lot of people who thought that movie was going to flop, but it became both a critical success and one of the highest-grossing movies of all time.

James Cameron is a genius – an extremely bright guy with balls of steel. While we were doing that movie, both 20th Century Fox and Paramount Pictures were scared shitless that they would lose their shirts. They thought they would go broke, because the budget ballooned over $100 million, and it had never been done before. My God, did he prove them wrong.

Eric Braeden as Victor Newman in “The Young and the Restless”
Courtesy CBS Television Network

James Cameron must have been under enormous pressure.

We were filming near in Rosarito, Mexico, which is near Tijuana, and also in Baja, California. The studio brass would sometimes come down at lunch and sit there in their suits, because they wanted to exert pressure on him. I’ll never forget, I was standing behind him in the lunch line and his assistant came up to him and says, “Well, the suits are here,” meaning the executives from the studios. And he says, “Fuck ‘em. Just bring my food to the dressing room. I don’t want anything to do with them right now.” It was a tense time, because the cost overrun reminded them of Cleopatra, and Cleopatra had nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox. They were afraid the same thing would happen with this film, which was not only expensive, it didn’t have the star power of actors like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. James Cameron was making this film with relatively unknown actors – [Leonardo] DiCaprio was not really known at the time. So I’m sure the executives thought, “What are we doing? We’re making Titanic, and we may go down with the Titanic.”


Did you think that Titanic would become a massive hit?

I have to say, I’m probably one of the few people who predicted that James Cameron would be very successful with that film. I was interviewed by a beat writer from The Hollywood Reporter, and he says, “You’re the only one who keeps saying that is going to be successful.” I replied, “Well, I’m in the top-rated soap opera on television,” and he says, “What does that have to do with Titanic?” And I just smiled and said, “This movie is a soap opera – albeit, a very expensive one. It’s going to make a fortune.”

Eric Braeden as John Jacob Astor in “Titanic”
Courtesy Twentieth-Century-Fox

What was it like watching Titanic for the first time?

James Cameron was a big fan of the film Colossus, which I did at Universal Studios in the late ‘60s, so he couldn’t have been nicer. We had finished filming my scenes around Christmas, and afterwards I called him up and asked if I could come down for a visit with my son, who was then a film student at UCLA, my wife, and my future daughter-in-law. He was absolutely fine with that, so we drove down to the set. He stopped shooting when we got there, and he took us into his trailer and showed us the first cut of the first five minutes of Titanic. He had already played Céline Dion’s beautiful song, My Heart Will Go On, for us. I got goosebumps watching it. I said, “You are going to make a fucking fortune on this.” And he did.


What was it like to be part of something like Titanic?

The acting was superb. Leo [Leonardo DiCaprio] is a wonderful actor. He continues to turn in amazing performances and make great films. What some don’t see is that he works incredibly hard at his craft. Billy Zane is another fine actor. Billy acted in my film, The Man Who Came Back. I knew Kathy Bates, and I knew what kind of an actor she was. Being a part of Titanic was just a remarkable experience, I must say, and then to see the success of that film…whoa…incredible.


In 2008, you executive-produced and starred in The Man Who Came Back. A wonderful film with an all-star cast.

To be honest with you, it was the best experience of my career. I’ve never enjoyed anything as much as doing that film, in large part because I had decision-making powers as to who we were hiring for the roles. All of the actors who were on will tell you that they had a hell of a time. Billy Zane was part of it, from Titanic. Great actor. Peter Jason is a wonderful actor. Armand Asante, fabulous character actor. We also had George Kennedy, Sean Young, and Carol Alt. We also had former heavyweight champion Kenny Norton – my God, what an honor it was to have him in this film. I have such respect for the man, God rest his soul. It just so happened that we worked out and boxed at the same gym in Watts. Bill Slayton was his trainer, one of the best. Kenny, when we worked on the film together, every so often I would slap him on the shoulder, and Jesus Christ, it was like hitting rock. Even at that age. Wonderful man.

Eric Braeden in “The Man Who Came Back” (2008)
Courtesy Eric Braeden

How did this project come together?

Chuck Walker, who boxed on the 1976 Olympic boxing team in Montréal with Sugar Ray Leonard, is an old friend of mine, and he came to me with the story. I liked it enough to see if we could get the money together and all of that. As it became clear that we were going to make it, I said that we need something that is more than just a revenge story. So it takes place in the latter part of the Reconstruction era in the South. Slavery was officially over with, but in reality it was not. The director, Glen Pitre, was doing some research on this when he came upon a labor strike in 1887, in Thibodaux, Louisiana. He learned that the plantation workers and the railroad workers got together and decided to strike. They wanted to be paid at least a dollar a day. This was especially important to the freed slaves, because many of them had continued working on the big plantations, but they were paid in company scrip – currency that they could only exchange on the company plantation. Because the scrip wasn’t good anywhere outside of the plantation they continued to be in bondage, so they had a strike in Thibodaux. Well, the strikers were mowed down by militia from New Orleans and Lafayette who came with the first Gatling machine guns. They murdered 300 strikers one night. I said, “That’s it. Now we have a story. Let’s go.”


What was it like wearing some many different hats in making The Man Who Came Back?

It was totally satisfying. My only regret is that we admittedly had a little bit too much violence in it. That was my insistence, and I take responsibility for it, because I wanted things to be real. When my character’s wife gets raped and murdered and all of that, I said “Make that as real as possible.” That was a decision I should not have made because it turned off a lot of people. It’s pretty brutal. But beyond that, I absolutely loved doing that film. I’m still friends with all of them. When I had my Y&R 40th anniversary party, all of the actors from that film came, except the ones who had passed away.


How hard was it getting this independent film made?

The bane of the existence of independent producers is that you’ve got to find a distributor. As an independent filmmaker, when you go through a distributor, you get fucked. Meaning, you really have no choice in the matter. They give you a certain amount of money, and that’s the last thing you will ever see. The only way around that is if you’re part of a big studio, or a big company that makes a lot of films. In those cases they can’t screw with you. But if you are an independent film producer, they will take you. They’ll say, “We’ll do this, this, and this,” and then they pay you some money. That’s the last penny you will ever see. And then, try to sue them. You take them to court, and it costs you at least $100,000. And then, if the judgment is in your favor, try to collect it. It’s an old story in Hollywood. They have three books – one for the IRS, one for the studio, and one for the people who own a percentage in the film. They cook the books. They can always say, “We had so many expenses – look at the books, we had this, this, and this.” Sadly, that was our experience. Otherwise, I would have made two or three other films already. I never enjoyed anything as much. Never.

Eric Braeden (left) in “The Man Who Came Back” (2008)
Courtesy Eric Braeden

Let’s talk sports. Tell me about your friendship with Muhammad Ali.

Muhammad Ali was a big fan of Y&R! He invited me to his 50th birthday party at Chasen’s Restaurant in Beverly Hills. My son and I went, and I will never forget it. Another time, I sat beside Ali on a plane ride from Philadelphia to Los Angeles. When we landed he said, “Go my way.” It wasn’t the official way to make it through LAX, the staff took us through all kinds of freight elevators and back hallways off limits to the public, but it was how he could avoid being mobbed by all of his fans. He knew that I was a boxer, so we started shadowboxing in one of the freight elevators. It was a bucket list moment for me.


You love tennis. You’ve played in a lot of celebrity tournaments all over the world.

The last one I played in was with the Ilie Năstase, in Bucharest, Romania. I had been invited to appear on a television show there, and he approached me and I was more than happy to play. Nadia Comaneci got us together, she is a big fan of Y&R. Ilie and I played against too young pros in Bucharest, and we beat them. I’ve played tennis with Chrissy Everett. I played in a tournament with Johan Kriek, against John McEnroe and Chevy Chase. I played an exhibition match in Central Park with Goran Ivanišević, we played against Andrei Chesnokov and Marc Rosset, another tall Swiss guy. Chesnokov was a fantastic athlete. I’ve played with Monica Seles and Tracy Austin quite a bit.

Funny story – I played in a celebrity tournament in Monte Carlo, with Prince Albert as my partner. The first two sets were tight, which we split, and then we were down 4 to 1 in the third set. His father, Prince Rainier, had come in with his entourage and sat down in one of the booths, and you see that he was visibly nervous. The errors started to pile up, and suddenly we were down 4 to 1. I said to myself, “Shit, he’s intimidated by his father.” So I turned to him and said, “Fuck it, Prince. Let’s go.” His eyes light up and he smiles and says, “Yes, fuck it.” We won the third set, and we went on to win the whole thing. I will never forget that moment. Actually, it was very telling about the relationship between father and son.

I’ve also played tennis with a few NBA players as well, but most of them were not that good. The exception to that was Rick Barry. Rick and I played a lot, and Rick was very good. He is 6-foot-7 and had an overpowering serve. What a fantastic athlete.

Steffi Graf and Eric Braeden enjoy a moment on the tennis court

You were also one hell of a soccer player. Tell me about winning a national championship as part of the Los Angeles Maccabees.

When I arrived in Los Angeles, I looked into playing soccer at UCLA, but the school had awarded all of its scholarships that year. Instead, I played for a team that was owned by a restaurant in Beverly Hills called La Scala. The owner, Jean Leon, brought together retired soccer players or players in their early 30s who had finished playing competitively all over the world – in the English First Division, which is known as the English Premiere League today, in the German Division, all over South America.

We played in something called the Greater Los Angeles Soccer League, which was founded in 1903 and is the oldest organized sports league in Los Angeles. Long story short, the Maccabees offered $20 a game. Being a starving student at the time, I jumped at the opportunity. I was a token German on a Jewish team – we had seven Israelis from the Israeli national team, two Ethiopians from the Ethiopian national team, two guys from South America…Brazil and Mexico…also from the first division. So, we had a good team. We made it all the way to the National Cup in 1973 against the Cleveland International Italians, or whatever they were called, and won the national championship.

Eric Braeden (second from left) and his LA Maccabees teammates

Do you have a soccer tip you’d like to share?

I never missed a penalty kick in five years. I would tell the goalies I was going for the corners, and then I would hammer the shit out of the ball. You can do that and still put slice on it. The top pros today try to finesse the ball into the net and all of that kind of stuff, but that’s all bullshit. Just hammer the ball. You can look directly at the goalie, but you just hammer it and put spin on it, and it spins away from him. And from that distance, if you hit it hard, I don’t care how fast he is, he may get a finger on it but he’s not going to stop the ball.


Your son, Christian Gudegast, wrote and directed the STX feature film Den of Thieves. You must be proud that he’s followed in your footsteps.

Immensely proud. One of the greatest joys in my life was to raise him. In a sense it’s a father-son relationship that a lot of people dream about. I was tough with him, but he was tough himself. He has my competitive spirit. I took him to the kettle gyms when he was seven and eight years old, and he learned of boxing from early on. He is a black belt in Brazilian jujitsu. He worked with Rob Kaman, the world champion in Muay Thai boxing. He worked with Rickson Gracie, the tough guy in Brazilian jujitsu. He graduated at the top of his class at UCLA. He writes and directs, which is something I would have loved to have done if I’d only had the guts.

Father and Son: Eric Braeden (right) shares a moment with his son, filmmaker Christian Gudegast

It must have been a thrill for you to act in Den of Thieves. What was that experience like for you?

That acting was superb. Gerard Butler and Pablo Schreiber both did wonderful jobs. Christian casts people very carefully. He divided the cast and had them train in the use of weapons weeks before filming began, with the bad guys and the sheriffs training separately. He insisted that they were proficient in the weapons they had to use, because he can’t stand phoniness. He’s like me in that regard. Make it as real as you can. Christian has finished writing the sequel, which he hopes to get made as soon as this coronavirus thing is over with. It’s a waiting game in that regard, because they can’t shoot anywhere in the world now.


Unlike your soap opera character, you have been married to the same woman since 1966. What is the secret to a successful relationship?

It’s tough to be married to an actor. My wife grew up in this town, and she went to school with Frank Sinatra’s daughters. She knew Mia Farrow and all of that. So she is used to that side of the business. It doesn’t impress her. So, she knows what the real story is all about.

I think the important thing is that you have to basically like the other person. You should respect the woman that you are with, or in her case, the man. That “being in love” thing, at some point a metamorphosis takes place and it transforms into the two of you liking each other. There is a lot of forgiveness along the way. People get divorced because sometimes the relationship becomes untenable. They aren’t willing to work through the adversity. It gets tough, but you stick it out.

Eric Braeden – Daytime Emmy Award Winner

In 2007, you received what is arguably Hollywood’s highest honor – a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Coming from such a humble upbringing in a small German village, what does this honor mean to you?

It was arguably one of the most important moments in my life. It moved me deeply. Having come to this country as a 18-year-old, with 50 bucks in my pocket and all of that shit, and overcoming all of the hardships along the way…that was one of the most moving experiences in my life.

https://www.fifteenminuteswith.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/the_eric_braeden_interview.png 400 600 Michael McClellan https://www.fifteenminuteswith.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/FifteenMinutesWith_NewLogoPrototype.png Michael McClellan2020-07-13 17:24:422020-07-27 12:30:08Eric Braeden – Despicable V
Film & TV, Q and A

Ed Asner – Staying Power

Written By: Michael D. McClellan | Born 17 days after the stock market crash that plunged the United States into the Great Depression, it’s fair to say that acting legend Ed Asner has seen it all. A winner of 7 Primetime Emmy Awards, making him the most honored male performer in television history, Asner has lived through World War II, the assassinations of President John F. Kennedy and music legend John Lennon, September 11, all manner of natural disasters, and a global transition from the Industrial Revolution to the Digital Age. Babe Ruth was still swatting homers when Asner was born. He’s witnessed the collapse of communism in Eastern Europe, spoken out about atrocities in El Salvador, and celebrated the end of apartheid in South Africa. Today, Asner can add the coronavirus pandemic to his list. Not that the man with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame is particularly thrilled about the prospect of living through a global pandemic that has changed, well, everything.

“Like many people, I haven’t been able to do much or go anywhere, so I’ve been stuck reading all of the depressing news,” Asner says dryly. Ever the actor, he pauses for dramatic effect. “In fact, I should be at the top of the heap with all of the depressing news that I’ve been reading. I’m housebound. I don’t go anywhere, and the people that I live with don’t get out that much either, so I’m spared contact.”

Actor Ed Asner pictured in a studio portrait, USA, circa 1965. (Photo by Archive Photos/Getty Images)

Social distancing is now part of the national lexicon and masks have become a political hot button, but if you think the 91-year-old acting legend is living in fear of COVID-19, you’d better think again.

“It’s an inconvenience because it means I can’t work,” he says, “and that bugs the hell out of me.”

Asner, who won five of those Primetime Emmy Awards for portraying his iconic character Lou Grant, first on The Mary Tyler Moore Show and then later its spin-off, Lou Grant, has no plans on slowing down anytime soon. Like his good friend, the ageless Betty White, Asner continues to do what he loves doing most. Whether popping up on the megahit Modern Family or passing away on the Netflix smash Dead to Me, Asner continues adding credited roles to a resumé already filled to the brim.

“I’ve got to pay the bills,” he says with a laugh. “Besides, there’s no place I’d rather be than in front of a camera, or on a stage in front of a live audience.”

Born in Kansas City, Missouri, on November 15, 1929, Asner went to college at the University of Chicago with dreams of being a journalist. His first real job was working on the General Motors assembly line, before serving with the U.S. Army Signal Corps, where he appeared in plays that toured European Army camps. That stint whetted his appetite for acting. He returned to Chicago and immediately joined the Playwrights Theatre Company, but left for New York City before members of that company regrouped as the Compass Players in the mid-1950s, a company that eventually developed into The Second City. There he appeared in an Off-Broadway revival production of Threepenny Opera, before costarring with Jack Lemmon in Broadway’s Face of a Hero in 1960.

American actor Ed Asner as newspaper editor Lou Grant in the US TV show ‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show’, circa 1975.
(Photo by Silver Screen Collection/Getty Images)

Asner made the jump to TV in 1957, appearing in an episode of Studio One in Hollywood before spending the ‘60s working steadily in everything from Elvis Presley’s Kid Galahad, to four episodes of The Untouchables, to Raymond Burr’s Ironside. With over 100 acting credits to his name by the end of the decade, Asner had carved out a niche as an actor who eschewed comedy in favor of serious roles. He was also a pro’s pro, someone who could be counted on to show up and deliver exactly what was written in the script.

And then, lightning in a bottle.

“The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” Asner says. “Being a part of that ensemble changed everything. I went from taking small parts in a lot of different things to being a part of an all-time great sitcom.”

The casting of Asner as Lou Grant was a risky move for the show’s creators, James Brooks and Allan Burns, but the chemistry between Asner and Moore was apparent from the jump. In the first episode, when Grant says to Moore’s character, Mary Richards, “You’ve got spunk,” she reacts with pride before he bursts her bubble with the perfectly timed declaration, “I hate spunk.”

American actors Edward Asner (as Lou Grant) and Mary Tyler Moore (as Mary Richards) in a scene from ‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show’, Los Angeles, California, 1970.
(Photo by CBS Photo Archive/Getty Images)

The Mary Tyler Moore Show was perfectly cast, with Ted Knight’s booming voice and comedic chops breathing hilarity into the dim-witted, vain, and miserly anchorman Ted Baxter. Gavin MacLeod, Valerie Harper, Cloris Leachman, Georgia Engel, and Betty White each brought their own charisma to the screen, helping the show win a whopping 29 Primetime Emmy Awards during its seven year run.

“We loved each other,” he says. “We forgave each other’s faults and stayed a family for many years.”

The ‘70s also saw Asner appear in two critically-acclaimed miniseries – Roots, and Rich Man, Poor Man – both of which garnered him Emmy Awards and validated his place among television’s acting greats.

“Roles of a lifetime,” he says. “I followed my gut and it worked out.”

When Mary Tyler Moore came to an end, people thought they’d seen the last of Asner’s kind-hearted curmudgeon. All of that changed with Lou Grant, an hour-long drama that ran for five award-winning seasons and delivered a coup de grâce to skeptics waiting for the show to fail. Only when Asner decided to speak out on political issues did Lou Grant hit the rocks, with CBS unceremoniously cancelling what had become both a commercial and critical success. (Even though the network had nothing remotely as serious or substantial on its 1982 fall schedule.)

LOS ANGELES – JULY 1: Ed Asner as Lou Grant in the series, “Lou Grant.” Image dated 1977. (Photo by CBS via Getty Images)

Asner pulls no punches when it comes to the show’s cancellation, saying the move evoked the 1950s with its “muzzling of the First Amendment and blacklisting,” and he has a point. CBS did little to dispel the notion that the show was cancelled because Asner’s political views had spooked key sponsors. For Asner, the move was a gut punch. Lou Grant had taken the innovative and unprecedented step of plucking a character from a half-hour TV sitcom, and placing him into a one-hour drama. It not only worked, it was exceedingly good, winning 13 Primetime Emmy Awards (two for Asner) during its run. Then came Asner’s comments on communism and El Salvador.

And then, poof. Lou Grant was gone.

“Lou Grant was a hit,” he says. “It was popular, and the critics loved it. There can be no other explanation.”

Editorial use only. No book cover usage. Mandatory Credit: Photo by Snap Stills/Shutterstock (2047108m) Elf – Will Ferrell and Ed Asner Elf – 2003

Unbowed, Asner continued working and continues to do so to this day. During the 1980s he served as the President of the Screen Actors Guild and clashed famously with Charlton Heston. A decade later he acted in Oliver Stone’s JFK. He’s turned in memorable performances in classic movies such as Will Ferrell’s Elf and Pixar’s Up. He’s returned to Broadway in Grace, and toured the country with his one-man show, FDR, portraying President Franklin D. Roosevelt. All this to go along with twenty Emmy nominations and more than 400 acting credits in a career spanning seven decades. Not bad for a man whose most memorable character hated spunk.

Turns out that Ed Asner has plenty of it himself.

You are one of the most honored men in television history, but you got your start in theatre.

Well, I had appeared quite successfully with a group in Chicago called the Playwrights Theatre Company. I received a lot of very good reviews from the Chicago Sun-Times and the Chicago Daily News. Unfortunately, we lost our ability to perform as a city theater, so the two producers – Paul Sills and David Shepherd – decided to go further into improv. That’s when they founded Compass Players, which was the first improvisational theater in the United States. Sills was part of a group that later opened The Second City Theatre, which is a name that might sound familiar to you.


You continued to act onstage, just not in Chicago.

I was so taken by my reviews that I couldn’t relinquish the stage after Playwrights closed, so I decided to take my reviews and go to New York. I spent six years there. Within the first six months I was hired by director Carmen Capalbo to do Threepenny Opera, which became one of the biggest hits in Off-Broadway history. I did that for almost three years. Performing in that play gave me security and helped me to survive New York, which seems to get harder and harder to do if you read the papers. However, toward the end of those three years I realized that I was forsaking the lessons I’d learned – I’d forgotten what it was to be an actor. That’s when I left Threepenny Opera and went to another Off-Broadway production called Ivanov, which is a nineteenth century Chekhov play. I did that, which restored my dignity, and then I acted in one place or another, wherever I could. I did one of the first performances of Shakespeare in the Park for Joe Papp, for example. So I survived, I guess you could say.

LOS ANGELES – JUNE 30: The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Ed Asner (as Lou Grant) in “Love Is All Around”. Season 1, episode 1. Negative date is June 30, 1970. Air date: September 15, 1970.
(Photo by CBS via Getty Images)

You soon landed on Broadway, starring alongside Jack Lemmon in Face the Hero. With things going so well, what prompted the jump into TV and film?

Well, I was not satisfied with what I was being offered, and I wasn’t satisfied with what the landscape provided me in New York, so I took a job offered by Marion Dougherty, the Casting Director for a TV series called Naked City, which they were shooting in Los Angeles. She was casting for a role in one episode, and I jumped on that. That was in 1961. She knew me, because I had acted in a few things on television leading up to that…a show called Studio One, for example. So I decided the time was right to make the move.


What was it like moving from New York to Los Angeles?

I was impressed by what I saw in Los Angeles, and by the agencies and the offers that seemed to be available, so I called my wife and explained that I wanted to investigate these talent agents more. She said plainly, “Oh God.” So I stayed out there and did that, and after a week I decided to go with one of them. I called my wife and said, “I think I would like to move out here.” Again she could only say, “Oh God.” Eventually the shock wore off and we were both on the same page.

I traveled back home and we started packing. I’d like to say that my wife did a fantastic job. She organized everything, tied up loose ends, and contacted professional movers. We rented a 14-foot U-Haul trailer and they packed it for us, and not one thing was broken on that cross country trip from New York to Los Angeles. We had 1,000 pounds left over that couldn’t fit into the U-Haul, so we hired Mayflower to take that additional thousand pounds. It was like they had drunks who loaded that thousand pounds, because when we got there everything was chipped, broken, or scraped. It was awful. We ultimately survived that, found a place that delighted us, and moved into the Hollywood Hills. I immediately began making rounds with my agent, who is now deceased. He did a great job introducing me. I began working steadily.


You weren’t known for comedy when you read for The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

My previous work must have impressed Ethel Winant, Vice President of CBS, because when Grant Tinker asked Ethel if Ed Asner could do comedy, Ethel replied, “Ed Asner can do anything.” So I guess you could say that I came highly recommended.

Ed Asner and Mary Tyler Moore – ‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show’

How did you land the iconic role of Lou Grant?

I went in to see the two genius producers, James Brooks and Allan Burns, and they gave me the central scene from the first script. I had avoided comedy to that point – I always felt I could do comedy, but I was afraid of it – so I read it in a very controlled manner, which wasn’t funny. They politely thanked me, and commended me on a very intelligent reading. I knew that was the kiss of death. Under my breath I kept muttering the same thing: “You just blew this audition.”

They ended by saying, “When we have you back with Mary, we want you to read it ‘crazy, crazy, crazy.’” I didn’t know what they meant, but I agreed and walked out. Well, I stopped almost immediately, and then went back inside. I said, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but let me try it that way here and now. If I don’t do it the way you want, then don’t have me back.”

I don’t know where that courage came from, because I’ve never had guts like that before or since. I read it like a crazy lunatic, wild and crazy, unclever, and they laughed their asses off. They said that they wanted me to read it just like that when I came back to read with Mary. The next two weeks I tried like hell to recall what I had done to bump up that reading, so that I could recreate how wild, wacky, and far out I had been.

‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show’ – Front Row: Gavin MacLeod, Mary Tyler Moore, Ted Knight;
Back Row: Valerie Harper, Ed Asner, Cloris Leachman

It must have worked.

As promised, I read it with Mary as crazily as I had read it the first time. Once again, Brooks and Burns laughed their asses off. Only years later did I learn that Mary had turned to the producers after I’d left the audition and said, incredulously, “Are you sure?”

And they said, “That’s your Lou Grant.”


Mary Tyler Moore became one of the greatest comedies of all time. When did you realize that this show was something special?

We knew after the first show. The comfort level that we had with each other, and the reliance that we had on each other, was second to none. There was a true sense of cooperation that existed between us, and all of it was tied together by the back-bending work of our director, Jay Sandrich. It was all for one, and one for all.

Ted Knight, Ed Asner, Mary Tyler Moore – ‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show’

Were you concerned that The Mary Tyler Moore Show would be canceled before it found an audience?

The show was never in any danger of getting canceled, at least to my knowledge. They first wrote the pilot script with Mary having suffered a divorce. CBS said, “No, we can’t have her be divorced. That won’t work.” So they had her breaking off her engagement and coming to Minneapolis to pursue a single life. That was the only stumbling block that we had.

I also knew that we were guaranteed to be on the air for 13 episodes. In my nine years in Hollywood up to that point, I had not had scripts for a character like that. I didn’t care whether the show went into the toilet after the thirteenth episode, because I knew that I would never have the chance to do that kind of writing again. That’s how special the show was.

LOS ANGELES, CA – MAY 17: (L-R) Edward Asner, Betty White, Mary Tyler Moore and Ted Knight holding their Emmy Awards in the press room at the 28th Annual Primetime Emmy Awards on May 17, 1976 at The Shubert Theatre in Los Angeles, California (ABC via Getty Images)

Is it true that you traveled to various markets to do test scenes in front of live audiences?

We were given a list of cities that we were going to visit to do the test scenes. Mary and I covered a certain part of the nation, and then Cloris Leachman and I traveled to the second half of the cities on the list. I wanted to learn the lines so that I was prepared, but there was so much material that I instantly wore out. Mary, being the trooper that she is, carried the brunt of our appearances in those cities. She was a lifesaver. When Cloris and I hit the road, she said, “No, we don’t want to do that crap, we’ll just fake it.” So we faked it, and I breezed along, and I did very well with that. I’ll be forever grateful to her. Cloris was a lifesaver in her own way.


What was working on the pilot like?

We came back to Los Angeles and did some pilot scenes with Jay Sandrich, who had been designated as our director by the producers. We didn’t get along first – Jay wanted me to pick up the pace, he felt I was being too serious, and on and on, so there was a trust that had to develop between us. I was coming from a place of being a very serious actor, and suddenly I’m doing comedy, and adjustments had to be made. Anyway, we taped those earlier scenes from the first show in a rain-slogged Hollywood studio, and they were sent off to the same cities Mary, Cloris, and I had done earlier. Well, those scenes made my two producers writhe in agony. They hated them. They hated the approach. Let’s call it an overreaction. You look at the script now – granted, it didn’t have the audience’s reaction – but those scenes looked pretty good considering they were the first effort.


The chemistry between you and Mary Tyler Moore is undeniable. You’ve credited her with helping to bring out your best. What was it like working with her?

Mary was the most generous star that I have ever come across. You couldn’t say, “We’ve got to baby her,” because she wasn’t that type of star. She was very down-to-earth. She’d make it easy for you to get a laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a star who made everything so easy, and who enabled one to do his best. Through my time with her, I discovered that just as she was the giving, generous lead of her show, that’s what I would have to become to make my own show [Lou Grant] successful – the giving, generous pivot around which everything revolved. In the end, it’s your generalship, your giving to the cast members around you. Your job is to be the backboard for them to bounce off, because if you somehow help make them better, then that makes the show succeed. Mary taught me that.

Edward Asner and Mary Tyler Moore during 2004 TV Land Awards Airing March 17, 2004 – Press Room at The Hollywood Palladium in Hollywood, Calofornia, United States. (Photo by J. Merritt/FilmMagic)

After twenty-nine Primetime Emmy Awards and seven seasons, the cast of The Mary Tyler Moore Show exits the air in a group hug. At that point, no one was sure they would ever see Lou Grant again.

You point them out to me.


Lou Grant was a huge risk. No one had ever taken a sitcom character and put them in a drama before.

When we realized that it was going to be the last year for Mary Tyler Moore, my agent asked CBS if they wanted Lou Grant to return on another show. They quickly agreed, and then asked me to decide who I wanted to produce it. I loved MTM Enterprises, so we pitched the idea to MTM and they also agreed. At that point I said that I would like Brooks and Burns to be my producers, and they were immediately offered the job. We waited a month or two while they mulled it over. They finally came back and said, “We think we would like to make it into an hour-long show, and have Lou go back to his original love, which is print journalism.” In my naïveté I said, “That’s all fine by me,” but the enormity of doing that kind of a show is unbelievable. It will never be done again.

Editorial use only. No book cover usage. Mandatory Credit: Photo by Moviestore/Shutterstock (1575154a) ‘Lou Grant’ cast

What kind of an adjustment did it take to pivot to a filmed drama?

Nobody associated with it had ever done an hour-long series, with a recurring character, writer, producer, and director. Nobody fully understood the unbelievable sea change required to shift between doing a three-camera live comedy and doing a one-camera filmed drama. Jay Sandrich directed a couple of the early shows. Jay, as I mentioned earlier, had spent a good amount of time working with me to pick up the pace for Mary Tyler Moore. Suddenly, that was out the window. He said, “Okay, now we’re not going to be down on the set with you, you’re going to have to remember who Lou Grant is, you’ve got to keep that spirit of Lou.” Well, I kept trying to keep that spirit of Lou, but with no laughs, because it’s a filmed drama.


Is that when you realized that the humor from Mary Tyler Moore didn’t translate to Lou Grant?

First of all, with a half-hour live comedy you’re performing with 300 people in the audience, and you’re working with a three-camera system that was devised by Lucy and Desi [Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz]. The format is designed to make you laugh. Suddenly, you change it into an hour show that deals with serious themes, and has no audience. It was a totally different approach. With a half-hour show, you had to have the laughs going on all of the time. With an hour show, and a drama at that, nobody could laugh. Granted, there were laugh lines in there, so I wanted to keep those laughs coming whenever they occurred, rare that they might be.

American actor Edward Asner walks along a sidewalk as the titular character in the television series ‘Lou Grant,’ Los Angles, California, 1977. The show was a dramatic spin-off from the comedy series ‘Mary Tyler Moore.’ (Photo by CBS Photo Archive/Getty Images)

Were the laughs trickier to pull off in a drama like Lou Grant?

I was in therapy at the time. As luck would have it, the therapist was both a Freudian therapist and an avid television watcher. The first several episodes of Lou Grant had already aired, and I went and laid down on his couch and said, “What did you think?” He replied, “Why do you grimace so much?” Just like that, it hit me between the eyes. Every time we had a laugh line, or a potential laugh line, I wanted the people at home to feel free to laugh. I knew that everybody was constrained in the studio, but unconsciously I was creating that grimace, which was my signal to the people at home to laugh. Even though the first shows were good, I told myself that I can’t keep doing that to Lou. I had to read the scripts and do the man that was written there, and let the people at home figure it out for themselves. I finally settled down. From then on it worked out beautifully.


The critics loved Lou Grant, even if it was slow to find an audience. Do you think there was confusion over what kind of show it was?

I don’t know if it was CBS’s fault or TV Guide’s, but for the first two weeks TV Guide listed Lou Grant as a comedy. I’m sure that people thought they would tune in and see some of the old Mary gang, and get a lot of the same old laughs.

Editorial use only. No book cover usage. Mandatory Credit: Photo by Moviestore/Shutterstock (1579861a) Lou Grant , Ed Asner, Robert Walden Film and Television

Was the show in danger of being cancelled?

Not a chance. CBS had been such a ratings dog up to that point, and they really didn’t have a replacement for the show, so they couldn’t yank it that quickly because they just didn’t have anyone else to put into that time slot. In those days, they didn’t yank quickly anyway. Today it’s a nightmare. The first show that I did after Lou Grant, they yanked it after six shows. Now, some shows don’t even get that.

Because CBS didn’t have anything to replace it, and because it had gotten such critical acclaim, we were able to continue on in the hopes that the audience would come around. And then, when we got all of the honors that year, it would have looked foolish for CBS to cancel us.


Lou Grant was ahead of its time, in that show that tackled tough issues head on.

Well, Lou Grant was nowhere near the fun that Mary was. Working on the Mary Tyler Moore Show was like dying and going to heaven. It was a wonderful pleasure to have a live audience and get those laughs. Lou Grant was about grinding it out. It was hard work. The process wasn’t nearly as fun or rewarding for me as an actor, because I was doing the same character with the same limited opportunities of acting. The show was about the mission we were on, and airing the issues that we dealt with. When Lou Grant was being filmed, we were the only show taking on serious issues. I looked at [writer] Bob Ellison at one point and said, “We probably won’t be allowed to deal with busing, gun control, and abortion.” Everything else, we got into pretty good.

Ed Asner as August March in ‘Hawaii Five-O’ 2012

There was an authenticity to that newsroom. What was the secret to pulling that off?

I have no idea, other than the producer’s own experience. Jim Brooks had worked in news broadcasting before, so he came from that world and he was also an excellent writer. The writers also researched the hell out of it, if you want to be honest. We also had two guys from the LA Times always sitting around telling us what was right and what was wrong. Other than that, I have no idea. We were just lucky.


At the height of the show’s success you were speaking out about real-world issues in Central America and El Salvador. This immediately put you at odds with CBS.

CBS was William Paley’s fiefdom at the time, and he had disciplined the Smothers Brothers for going too far, abruptly cancelling their show even though it was very popular and won an Emmy Award for best writing the same season it was cancelled. Paley even reined in Edward R. Murrow, who was one of the leading lights in the CBS news division at the time. Paley was uncomfortable with the hard-hitting tone of Murrow’s show, See It Now, because he knew the sponsors were uneasy about some of the controversial topics, and because he was worried about things like lost revenue and the unwelcome scrutiny Murrow’s topics would bring during the era of McCarthyism. So I certainly knew about Paley’s history on things like this.


You were in Washington, DC, speaking out about atrocities in El Salvador. Please share that story, and the impact that it had on your career.

I got involved in El Salvador when a nun showed me pictures a Belgian photographer had taken of the atrocities being carried out by the death squads down there. I said to myself, “We’re giving them all kinds of military aid, and this is what’s going on with our government’s approval?” So I began to speak out, and I joined a medical aid effort created by a guy named Bill Zimmerman, a political activist who had also spearheaded getting medical aid into Indochina.

I went to Washington with a group of actors that included Ralph Waite, Lee Grant, and Howard Hesseman. Because Lou Grant was the leading show at the time, I somehow became the group’s spokesman. I stood there and read the preamble for the group, after which I became the live target of the assembled press. There was a cable TV guy there who asked, “Mr. Asner, you say you’re in favor of free elections and a democratic government in El Salvador. What if that election results in a communist government?” I responded with some kind of mealy-mouthed answer, and immediately said to myself, “Oh God, this is what it means to speak out.” I moved on to the next question, but the whole time I’m thinking, “Did I come all of this way to be a chicken?” So I finished answering the question and I turned back to that cable guy, and said that I wasn’t happy with my answer. I then said, “My answer to you is, ‘If it’s the government the people of El Salvador choose, then let them have it.’” It was about as simple a statement as you could make. Well, stuff didn’t really hit the fan on that particular remark, but I felt that it was the basis for what happened to me as an actor forever afterwards.

American actors (second left to right) Betty White, as Sue Ann Nivens, Gavin McLeod, as Murray Slaughter, Ed Asner, as Lou Grant, Georgia Engel, as Georgette Franklin Baxter, Mary Tyler Moore, as Mary Richards, and Ted Knight (1923 – 1986), as Ted Baxter, embrace one another beyond an unidentified crewmember with a slate on the set of the CBS situation comedy ‘Mary Tyler Moore’ during the filming of the final episode, ‘Last Show,’ Studio City, Los Angeles, California, March 19, 1977. (Photo by CBS Photo Archive/Getty Images)

Including the cancellation of Lou Grant?

Yes, definitely. My outspokenness as a private citizen, or what I thought was as a private citizen, was not acceptable. It got some of the sponsors antsy, and it led to the cancellation of the show. A CBS vice president flew out from New York to assure me that a lack of sponsors wasn’t why the show was being canceled. Well, there was no other reason. Kimberly-Clark had two factories in El Salvador, and they canceled their sponsorship. Two British firms – Cadbury and Vidal Sassoon – pulled out. Everybody else stayed in. According to the VP – I can’t recall his name – other sponsors were lining up and ready to step into the shoes of whoever canceled, but CBS wasn’t going to test that water. I have no doubt that the show would have continued to thrive in much the same way that The Mary Tyler Moore Show had thrived. It never got the chance. It was one of the highest-rated shows on television when CBS pulled the plug.


Professionally, it seemed like a trying time for you.

It was a dark time. There were two different congressional proposals for blacklisting the show. I was SAG president at the time, and [former SAG president] Charlton Heston was also conducting his own campaign against me. The union was about to bring in the extras, about 1,500 of them, and he was the spearhead of the stuntmen and the day players who protested it. Those two things combined to create a swell of angst about me, and eventually resulted in the cancellation of the show.


Lou Grant was a critical and commercial success at the time of its cancellation.

We were canceled with a 27 share. You couldn’t buy that kind of rating today. We were never afraid to take chance – I mean, the lowest rating we had for that series was a show that we did about the atomic bomb, and it featured a parallel story about a little girl who gets horribly burned on a bus. The character is treated at the Sherman Oaks Burn Center, which is a great medical center in Los Angeles, so you’re going on that journey with her at the same time the city is experiencing an atomic bomb alert. These two very divergent storylines converge at the end, when it’s discussed how many hundreds of thousands of dollars went into saving that one little girl, when, in the case of an atomic bomb attack, there would be 100,000 such little girls. It was a brilliant show. Even though it got the lowest ratings of all the shows in that series, it still beat out everything else in its time slot.


In 1971, you won your first Emmy for your work on The Mary Tyler Moore Show. What was that like?

It was unreal. It was really unreal. I was sitting next to the girlfriend of one of the assistant producers, David Davis, and when my name was announced I kissed her instead of my wife. That’s how shocking it was.

LOS ANGELES, CA – MARCH 19: Actors Betty White (L) and Ed Asner appear onstage at the 25th Anniversary Genesis Awards at the Century Plaza Hotel on March 19, 2011 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Kevin Winter/Getty Images)

You also won an Emmy for the TV miniseries Rich Man, Poor Man. Tell me about that project.

Harve Bennett was the Executive Producer for Rich Man, Poor Man. He called me and he said that he wanted me to read the book, and then he said that he wanted me to play the father. I thought there were other actors who could do a better job as the father, but I really wanted that opportunity. I squabbled with the director, David Greene, but I was determined to take the day, even if it killed me.


You also won an Emmy for your role as Captain Thomas Davies in the brilliant television miniseries, Roots.

I was actually offered a different role but I didn’t want to do it because I felt that it was too easy. I said I that I wanted to do the captain because it’s a person who goes along with evil. In my mind, I thought that Roots needed me. It was a worthwhile project that needed to be done, but I thought that most white actors would shy away from such a role, or from a show that dealt so strongly with racism and slavery. In fact, I was so sure that white actors would reject roles in Roots, I felt that it was my duty to volunteer. It turns out that I was so full of crap that it’s unbelievable! Actors were willing to break their bones, and each other’s bones, for an opportunity to be in that show.


Did you think that Roots would be such a big hit?

I questioned why [CBS television executive and producer] Fred Silverman would want to schedule it night after night. In my mind, he either expected it to be a colossal failure or it would dominate the sweeps – which it did, to great effect. It turned out to be a wonderful piece of work.

UNITED STATES – JANUARY 24: ROOTS – Sunday, Jan. 23-Sunday. Jan. 30, 1977, The 12-hour ABC Novel for Television “Roots”, which aired for eight consecutive nights, remains one of TV’s landmark programs. Based on Alex Haley’s best-selling novel, “Roots” followed 100 tumultuous years and several generations of the author’s African ancestors, from the arrival of Kunta Kinte (LeVar Burton, right), the West African youth kidnapped into slavery and shipped to America, through emancipation after the Civil War., Pictured: Kunta Kinte was taken prisoner and shipped to America on a vessel commanded by Capt. Thomas Davies (Edward Asner)., (Photo by ABC Photo Archives/ABC via Getty Images)

You served as the National President of the Screen Actors Guild for two terms.

I had belonged to a rebel group of actors who were always dissatisfied with the running of the guild. Being a member of that group and a hot property at the time, they wanted to put me forward as a candidate when the elections came around. They wanted to launch a new era for the Screen Actors Guild, and they felt that I could make a difference. Vainly, I agreed and was elected president, and I took my turn in the spotlight. I couldn’t begin to tell you if I accomplished anything, but some of the key issues were merging SAG and AFTRA, creating portability with the pension and welfare plans, and addressing compensation around reruns. The two unions did merge, but we never achieved that portability, so I would consider it an incomplete job.


The Pixar film Up Is a masterpiece, and you are wonderful as Carl Fredricksen.

It was a delight – and eventful – from start to finish. I tripped in the taping room one day and split my head wide open. I went across the street to St. Joseph’s Hospital, and they put some staples in my head. Up was a labor of love from the very beginning. I really knew very little about the history of Pixar, but it didn’t matter. I’m willing to follow anybody’s dream as long as I can have a crack at working on it.

HOLLYWOOD – MAY 16: Actor Ed Asner arrives at the premiere of Disney Pixar’s ”Up” at the El Capitan Theatre on May 16, 2009 in Hollywood, California. (Photo by Frazer Harrison/Getty Images)

Did you enjoy working on an animated film?

Yes, because I’ve never stopped loving cartoons. I was asked to do Ted Turner’s “Captain Planet” series in the early ‘90s – I played Hoggish Greedly [makes pig sounds]. I loved inventing shtick for him, and it served a very noble purpose at the same time.

To tell you the truth, I hadn’t seen any of the Pixar films until I went to see Wall-E. I watched it and I was shocked to see how adult it was, with the setting in our lives, both present and future, and how they dealt with it. I was both surprised and relieved to find that Up was also written with adults in mind, that it was written as much for them as for kids. That four-minute passage in there detailing the Carl Fredricksen’s life together with his wife…my God, we all wish that our lives could be displayed as beautifully as that one is.


You played Santa Claus in the now-classic Christmas film Elf. What was it like working with Will Ferrell?

Will Ferrell was brilliant – he is a brilliant comedian and actor. I still enjoy watching that film. If it’s on television I’ll stop everything to watch it every time.

Ed Asner as Santa in ‘Elf’

How would you grade your performance as Santa Claus in Elf?

I’m the definitive Santa Claus [laughs].


You aren’t slowing down – you’re in everything from the Netflix hit Dead to Me to your one-man play, A Man and His Prostate. What motivates you?

Fame is the spur, as the old saying goes. The more I got grabbed by fame, the more I wanted more of it, and that’s the case for me today. The audiences keep me going, that’s where I draw my energy. Life is boring without them. I need them more than they need me.


As you look back on your career, what satisfies you the most?

I took the assignment to be an interpreter as an actor. I hope I fulfilled my purpose.

https://www.fifteenminuteswith.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/the_ed_asner_interview.png 400 600 Michael McClellan https://www.fifteenminuteswith.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/FifteenMinutesWith_NewLogoPrototype.png Michael McClellan2020-07-03 00:38:042020-07-13 22:27:57Ed Asner – Staying Power
Film & TV, Music, Q and A

Keb’ Mo’ – Storyteller

By:  Michael D. McClellan | The blues was born at the turn of the twentieth century, in the Mississippi Delta and other regions of the Deep South, a reminder of hard times brought on by the burdens of slavery, the Great Depression, and just being black. Those who played the blues did so from a place of pain and suffering, of 30-cent days spent working from sun up to sun down, of sharecropping for a plantation owner who deducted nearly every dime from pittance wages and paid the rest in barrels of flour, lard and molasses. People forget that now. They don’t know or seem to care that the music they listen to today – be it R&B, soul, jazz, rock and roll, or hip hop – can be traced back to those Saturday afternoons when the blacks would gather at the local commissary, dancing on the parched earth out front while Charley Patton thumped the paint off his old guitar, or while Sonny Boy Williamson sat on the porch, going to town on his trusty harmonica. The blues back then was an elixir, a tonic for the troubled and afflicted, its message springing up from the hellish, hardscrabble existences of the economically and socially oppressed. Where Bach and Beethoven composed concertos for kings, bluesmen like Willie Foster and Blind Blake Booker played for those who turned the plow in the unbearable Mississippi heat – slaves, ex-slaves, and the descendants of slaves who sang as they toiled their lives away in the sharecropper’s cotton and vegetable fields.

The blues has been compared to the sound of a sinner on revival day, its message visceral, cathartic, and starkly emotional. Those who do it best are those who plumb their own hurt and hard times, despite being generations removed from the plantation juke joints where so many of the early blues musicians entertained. The lineage has seen artists like Muddy Waters and B.B. King take blues music to new heights, their contributions raising the bar for the rest who have followed. Diversity has also played its part; Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton, Carlos Santana, and others have broadened the audience in their own ways, drawing in new fans while nudging the blues closer to the mainstream, which is ironic given that blues music underpins nearly everything being played on the radio today. The grit behind Tupac’s thug life? The angst in Morrissey’s lyrics? The braggadocio that drives an Usher track? You can trace it all back to the early pioneers like Bo Carter and Isaac Watts, many of them poor, uneducated, and obscure artists who played their music to soothe the soul, not sell tickets.

Keb’ Mo’ and blues legend B.B. King, two giants of the genre

Today, blues music has splintered and fractured into a broad spectrum of sub-genres, with everything from country blues to punk blues available for download. And while there are flavors for every taste, the ability to tap into raw emotions, both lyrically and musically, set the great storytellers apart from the rest of the crowd. As Otis Rush once said, “Them pains, when blues pains grab you, you’ll sing the blues right.”

Kevin Moore – better known to the music world as Keb’ Mo’ – has been singing the blues right since the early 70s, earning five Grammy Awards and universal acclaim, all while proving that the blues can be moved forward without being fueled by the one-two punch of unrelenting oppression and abject poverty. His is an impressive résumé certainly, but success didn’t just drop in Keb’ Mo’s lap – in fact, it came about as stubbornly as freedom comes to a man doing hard time in prison, with a decade spent scratching out a living as a backup musician, followed by a lost decade with little in the way of acclaim, twenty-plus years of wandering, virtually unnoticed, across a fickle musical landscape. How many artists break through after twenty years on the fringes? How many give up? Keb’ Mo’ has paid his dues – perhaps not in the same way as Robert Johnson, who burst on the scene only to die mysteriously at age 27, spurring the Faustian myth that he sold his soul at a crossroads to achieve success – and he’s carved out his own path while chopping down the large stalks of resistance standing in his way. After twenty years of struggle it’s okay to call him a bluesman. Just don’t try pigeonholing him in the genre where he’s had the most success.

“Getting tagged as a blues artist — that’s just a consequence of people not actually hearing me,” Keb’ Mo’ says, smiling. “They’ve just heard about me.”

Keb’ Mo’

He has a point. Growing up in Compton to parents with Southern roots, an impressionable Kevin Moore was exposed to gospel music at an earlier age. He also got a taste of R&B, which had a strong influence in shaping his future. This was pre-NWA Compton, decades before the Big Bang explosion of gangsta rap and the stars it would produce – Easy-E, Ice Cube, and Dr. Dre among them. He listened to everything back then, his musical interests stretching from the Beatles to Willie Nelson to Motown and back again. More than anything he was intrigued by the stories within the songs, the arrangement of the words, and the emotions and imagery they evoked.

Moore’s first exposure to playing music came when he was ten years old. He was recruited into his school’s band, playing trumpet and instantly feeling a connection to the notes.  From there he went on to try steel drums and whatever else he could get his hands on. It was only when he picked up the guitar that Moore found himself hooked, setting in motion a chain of events that would eventually lead not only to stardom, but to Gibson releasing a Keb’ Mo’ Bluesmaster acoustic guitar, starting price $2,000. Not that he could have envisioned an honor like that as a preteen. Back then he simply wanted to play.

“It didn’t really matter at that point, I would have played the triangle or an oboe if they let me.”

Keb’ Mo’

Moore practiced tirelessly and paid his dues. He played in a number of cover bands after high school, performing Top 40 hits and oldies, adding layers to the artistic strata that would ultimately shape him as a musician. In 1973, he joined a blues-rock group headed by Papa John Creach, the former vocalist for Jefferson Starship and Hot Tuna. Three years and three albums later, Moore had the role of backup musician down pat. He’d toured. He’d spent time in studio. It helped lay the foundation. By the end of the ’70s he’d opened for jazz and rock artists such as the Mahavishnu Orchestra, Jefferson Starship, and Loggins & Messina.

Propelled by these apprenticeships, Moore ventured out to explore his place in the musical universe. In 1980 he signed a deal with Casablanca and cut an R&B-based solo album, Rainmaker, which garnered little notice. Casablanca promptly folded, and Moore slipped into the abyss. Survival became the order of the day. Moore played wherever he could find a job, and in 1983 he joined the house band at a Los Angeles nightclub, Marla’s Memory Lane. There he met blues saxophonist Monk Higgins, the bandleader who he later credited as “probably the most important element in developing my understanding of the blues.” He also met guitarist Charles Charlie “Tuna” Dennis, who played rhythm six-string behind B.B. King. The legacies left behind by legendary blues artists Robert Johnson and “Big” Bill Broonzy also provided an influence, and over the next decade Moore incorporated elements of each to lay the foundation of his own unique style.

Keb’ Mo’

As Moore’s struggles continued, there was little hint that a transformative decade loomed on the horizon. By 1990 he’d resigned himself to grinding out a career as a lower tier musician, toiling away in obscurity, taking gigs wherever he could find work.  He was 39, and he had nothing of substance to show for nearly twenty years in the business. It wore on him. Moore’s luck changed when the casting director for Rabbit Foot, a theater production in Los Angeles, needed an actor who could play a Delta blues musician. Moore took the plunge. He found a freedom he hadn’t expected, a chance to let go, an opportunity to cleanse his pallet and reinvent himself as an artist. So successful was his performance that Moore was cast a bluesman in the stage production of Spunk. Then he played Robert Johnson in a docudrama entitled Can’t You Hear the Wind Howl?  Ironically, the recognition that came from playing blues musicians on stage brought him a popularity that had been lacking in his twenty-plus years as an actual blues performer.

“The response was incredible,” he says. “I didn’t envision it broadening my audience the way that it did, but it turned out to be much more than a detour from my main gig.  In a lot of respects, it was definitely a turning point.”

The roles also presented Moore with a long-awaited shot at redemption; fifteen years after watching his first album flop, Epic Records reached out with a record deal. To signify this transformative new chapter in his life, Moore embraced a new name – Keb’ Mo’ – an African-American version of his given name, which he felt would better reflect his emerging blues persona. The new name was first coined by a friend, drummer Quentin Dennard, who had started using the name during sessions at Los Angeles nightclubs when Moore would sit in with house musicians. It proved to be the capstone of his musical transformation.

The self-titled record brought with it a deluge of positive reviews, as The New York Times hailed Keb’ Mo’ as “an important new voice with both authentic blues roots and a contemporary sound.” After more than two decades on the fringes, the 39 year-old Keb’ Mo’ was suddenly an overnight success. He soon found himself opening for stars such as Jeff Beck, Carlos Santana, Buddy Guy, Joe Cocker, and George Clinton. Then, Mo’ released his third album, Just Like You (1996), stretching himself by working with a full band and tackling several rock-based songs. Just Like You won the Grammy Award for Best Contemporary Blues Album, a feat he duplicated in 1998 with his next release, Slow Down.

Mo’ caught fire in 1998, his music played on TV’s Touched By an Angel and The Promised Land, and featured on film soundtracks such as One Fine Day, Tin Cup, and Down in the Delta. Onstage, Mo’ shared star billing with such performers as Bonnie Raitt and Celine Dion. In the studio, he collaborated with talents such as Amy Grant to Solomon Burke. In-between, he performed the theme song for the smash sit-com Mike & Molly, while everyone from Joe Cocker (Has Anybody Seen My Girl) to the immortal B. B. King (Dangerous Mood) covered his songs.

LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE, Keb’ Mo’, Bonnie Raitt, 2004, (c) Sony Pictures Classics

Mo’ released two new albums on 2000, both garnering Grammy nominations: The Door and Big Wide Grin, the latter a children’s album featuring many songs from his childhood. In support of Big Wide Grin, Mo’ appeared on Sesame Street alongside Kermit the Frog and a host of other muppets, performing the song Everybody Be Yo’self. Keep It Simple (2004) delivered a third Grammy, again for Best Contemporary Blues Album, and featured an eclectic array of guests that included bluegrass mandolinist Sam Bush and the husband/wife duo of Vince Gill and Amy Grant. This period also offered Mo’ the chance to flex his political muscle, as he plunged headlong into the Vote for Change campaign aimed at defeating President George W. Bush. In addition to fulfilling the need for political activism ,the project allowed Mo’ to share the with some of the top names in the music business, including Bonnie Raitt and Bruce Springsteen.

When not producing albums, Mo’ continued to take unconventional risks. He recorded a cover of the Hank Williams hit I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, for a tribute album honoring the great country-western star. He followed this by straying even farther from his blues roots, offering his rendition in song of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 35 for a Royal Academy of Dramatic Art benefit recording,When Love Speaks: Sonnets of Shakespeare. Released in 2002, the recording includes performances by such disparate artists as Joseph Fiennes, Sir John Gielgud, Alan Rickman, Kenneth Branagh, Fiona Shaw, Des’ree, Annie Lennox, and Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

Keb’ Mo’ and Taj Mahal
2017 Grammy for Best Contemporary Blues Album

Three more Grammy nominations would follow: Suitcase (2006), The Reflection (2011), and BLUESAmericana (2014). Then, in 2017, Mo’ struck Grammy gold with TajMo (2017), a collaboration album with the legendary Taj Mahal. A fifth Grammy, this time for the spellbinding Oklahoma (2019), served notice that Keb’ Mo’ is as hungry as ever, and reminding us all that his slow rise to stardom was well worth the wait.

You got your start in music at ten years old. How easily did it come to you?

When I picked up a guitar the first time, that was it. Within a couple of weeks I knew four, five chords. I could strum. I had to learn, but I enjoyed it so it wasn’t something that I considered work. Trust me, I was ready to rock.


I understand that your mother instilled a love of music in you at an early age.

My father wasn’t all that into music when I was growing up, but my mother was a singer. She sang in church and loved jazz records. We didn’t have much money growing up, so we didn’t own a lot of records. Albums were kind of a luxury. When we got a record it was kind of a big deal, because they were expensive, about four or five dollars. I would listen to her albums and I remember especially Jimmy Smith’s Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Wolf and The Incredible Jimmy Smith. My mother also had the greatest hits of Johnny Mathis. She adored a singer called Gloria Lynne, and was always playing her 1963 album Gloria Lynne At The Las Vegas Thunderbird (With The Herman Foster Trio).


You seem like a storyteller at heart.

My roots are in songwriting. That’s where I got my start, and I still spend a lot of time crafting songs. I came up in Los Angeles, and I listened to a lot of country songs during the 1970s. It’s just crazy how well-written those songs were. I learned a lot from the songwriters of that era. Those were important years for me as a songwriter. By the mid-70s I was writing in Papa John Creach’s band and I was hooked on the songwriting.  I understood the importance of storytelling, and I knew I that I would be writing songs for as long as I was going to play music.

Keb’ Mo’

Who were some of your early influences?

There were many influences early on. Television, Top 40 radio, and the music being played in the 1960s…those were all an important part of my adolescence. James Taylor left an imprint. These were all positive influences, but they weren’t necessarily the means to an end. I was still figuring myself out, still trying to find the authenticity that I lacked at that point in my career. It wasn’t a linear journey to discovery. There were many detours and offshoots along the way. Charlie Dennis taught me that there are all kinds of blues: Delta blues, Texas blues, Chicago blues, soul-blues. So many flavors. It had a profound effect on my thinking. It shaped me. I started opening my mind and learning how deep the blues was.


Let’s talk about the blues. How has the blue music changed since its beginnings?

Blues music is a part of the legacy of the plantations in the South, along with the Underground Railroad, gospel music, and jazz. That’s really the beginning of African-American culture in America, because we came to this continent with no culture – our culture was stolen from us. Today, it’s a crazy new world.  Now the blues is much more diversified. Color doesn’t matter. I know a lot of white guys that can sing the shit out of some blues. It still connects. The old, hard, black audience – which we don’t have anymore – wouldn’t get hung up on what color you were. To them, the blues was the blues. That was the only color that mattered.


What does it take to write a good blues song?

Blues storytelling comes out of the soil, from the hearts of hardworking men and women, you know. It’s real, organic. There isn’t a shiny veneer involved, even if the finished product is more slickly produced today than the blues albums from years past. I’m proud of the songs that I’ve written, I’m proud of the realness in them, and that they don’t feel as if they belong in a Hollywood production or a Broadway play. Blues comes from the people, so I stay true to that. I want it to be for the people.

Keb’ Mo’

Most people associate you with blues music, but that hasn’t always been the case.

I never set out to be a “blues guy.” Why would I put limits on myself? I didn’t gravitate to the blues until I was in my 30s. I was playing popular music, stuff that I thought was cool. Later on, I realized I was empty inside. I didn’t have anything to say. And then I started listening to the blues and I discovered it a message. It’s deep and powerful. I saw a realism I hadn’t found in anything else. It fit. It gave my music the identity that I’d been searching for from the very beginning. Blues is very powerful and fuels what I do. It’s a big part of who I am.


As a musician, what effect did the blues have on your career?

The blues added the realness that had been missing. It added a truth, and extra dimension. Until then, I was just trying to mix music and make something that sounded good. The results felt like hollow knockoffs of real music, but when I really paid attention to blues, I was like, “Wait a minute. This is what’s been missing out of my experience. It’s been right under my nose my whole life.” It was right there, you know, a true epiphany waiting to happen. I just didn’t really think about it until then. It changed everything.


You have your own unique style of playing the blues.

I trust my instincts and go with them. I understand the importance of respecting the great blues players who have come before me, and I try to do my best to uphold the tradition and culture, but I think it’s just as important for me to do my own thing.

Keb’ Mo’

For the longest time you struggled to make your mark. Did you ever doubt yourself?

There were a lot of times when I was convinced my career was over. It got so bad that I felt that I’d be luck to play blues gigs for $40 or $50 a night…if I was lucky. I was living out my own personal version of the blues, even if I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think that was an important part of my growth.


Rabbit Foot turned out to be seriously good luck. How did you land your role?

I lied. I said I could play the part [laughs]. Then a funny thing happened…I really got drawn into the role. It was hard work. I’ve done other acting since then, and while I enjoy it, I understand how incredibly difficult it is to play a character and do so with authenticity. In some respects it mirrors music in that same way; those who do it best are those who are true to themselves. Vince Gill, Bonnie Raitt, Bob Dylan…they trust who they are, and they follow their own internal compass.


Ironically, success seemed to find you the moment you stopped looking for it.

I didn’t really care anymore. I just wanted to play music. I honestly didn’t care if I was successful or not. I didn’t care if I was living out of a box downtown. I didn’t concern myself with how others perceived my career. I just wanted to perform. When all had failed, when I felt that I had had every chance to make it and hadn’t made it, I decided to just do what I wanted to do. It was liberating. And when I finally did achieve a certain level of fame and success, I think it really helped me take the newfound attention and put it in the proper perspective. I just reminded myself that I’d always been a good storyteller. I didn’t become one just because I was suddenly getting all of this attention.


Keb’ Mo’

You’ve written and performed on 5 Grammy-winning albums. What’s your secret?

For me, writing it’s always been about the journey – making music and telling truths. A record is like a stop along the way in that journey, you know? How I’m looking at that particular moment. What’s going on with the relationships in my world. My thoughts on politics and anything else I’m experiencing on the journey of life. The fact that I’ve been nominated on seven other occasions is pretty special, too. I’m as proud of the nominations as I am when I win a Grammy. I think nominations tend to get swept under the rug and forgotten about, even more so in today’s culture. Just having your work recognized in that way puts it up there with the best. To me, that’s a reason to celebrate.


You’re an artist that isn’t afraid to take risks. Big Wide Grin is a great example.

I like having definition but not being defined. That was the case with the material that ended up on Big Wide Grin. The creative energy just kind of took over and I just went with the flow. I stopped everything to work on that record, which wasn’t my original plan going in. I thought I’d show up in the studio, and then get back to my real work, and then I got hooked, you know? It was a way to celebrate the many different forms that families take, from the intact nuclear unit to extended and blended families. It was also a vehicle to expand awareness about adults’ responsibility to younger generations. It was an important work from that standpoint; we’re wielding this great power of thought and mind and deed, and sometimes we use it carelessly.

Street Cred: Keb Mo and his good friend Vince Gill perform during the premier of Music Voyager episode about Middle Tennessee at the Franklin Theatre in Franklin, Tenn. February 15, 2012.

Let’s talk political activism. In 2004, you were part of the Vote for Change tour.

There was more to what we were doing than simply trying to replace a president. The concert series was about rethinking our place in the global landscape; you know, the United States as the ultimate policeman…as judge, jury and executioner…those things just didn’t fit anymore. So, it was more about trying to defeat outdated policies and philosophies. Closed-minded, heavy-handed politics just don’t work today. We no longer need to play the role of the world’s big, bad wolf. I think we’ve come a long way since then, so the effort wasn’t in vain.


You’ve been a frequent performer Eric Clapton’s Crossroads Guitar Festival.

Crossroads is a hell of a lot of fun. There are so many talented guitar players that you almost have to pinch yourself. I enjoy it. It’s not really a competition. Of course, people in the audience have their favorite performers, and that’s fine. For me, it’s about showing up and contributing whatever I can to help make it a success.


In 2017, TajMo won the Grammy for Best Contemporary Blues Album. How did you end up collaborating with one of your idols, Taj Mahal?

It was in about 2014 in Atlanta, Georgia when Taj suggested that we do something together. He probably meant get together to write a song, but I took it all the way [laughs]. I went crazy and we made a whole album. You can’t blame him for that … I’m probably to blame for that. He was probably just wanting to get together and jam or something like that. I said, ‘OK.’ And then we made a record.


You first saw Taj Mahal at a high school concert.

I really didn’t know just how important Taj would be to me when I first heard him. I was 17 when I first heard Taj Mahal at my high school. Then, like a year-and-a-half later, a friend of mine gave me a copy of his 1968 album, The Natch’l Blues, which was a quintessential record, with great musicians such as Jesse Ed Davis on guitar and piano, and Chris Blackwell on drums. I wore that one out. I listened to that steady for about two years, riding around in my car. And then, I went along my way making music and Giant Steps came out (in 1969) and we all started listening to that thing, me and all my friends did. Any chance to see his shows I would go and check him out. He was mentoring me without knowing it. I got to know Taj Mahal in the early 90s. It took a while to really become friends, because he was doing his thing, but we’d chat at festivals in the States and Europe when I ran into him.

Keb’ Mo’ and Taj Mahal jam at Eric Clapton’s Crossroads Festival

Oklahoma is a masterpiece, and earned you your fifth Grammy. What was it like recording with Rosanne Cash, who was a guest vocalist on Put a Woman In Charge?

Rosanne was incredible. Her presence on my album is so perfect, but it came about by chance. I had written the song and wanted a female voice on it. I phoned a friend of mine, an attorney in New York who is a kind of music aficionado, and asked his advice. He called me back and said, “I can ask Rosanne Cash.” I thought, ‘Oh, that would be some statement.’ She agreed, and is just so amazing.


Bonnie Raitt is another strong female who has had a tremendous impact on you.

Bonnie Raitt has been a really huge person to me. She supported me so much in the beginning. She let me open for her shows. She was really, really helpful. She did more for me than anyone. She sang on my records and did a cameo appearance on “Just Like You.” She is just the most gracious woman – ever. She is always about the cause, justice and social activism. She treats everyone with total respect. When I grow up I want to be like her.


Final Question: Do you think that there’s a place for the blues in today’s musical landscape?

The blues is something that always comes back. For the big music to survive, they have to sell a lot of records to teenagers. You need pop stars like Taylor Swift and Katy Perry to sell a lot of records and to keep the music industry financially sound. Blues was never mainstream in that sense. I don’t think it was ever meant to be mainstream. It was somewhat popular in the ’50s and ’60s, but it’s true significance lies in it being a part of all other popular music. It’s foundational. Turn on the radio and listen to anything Top 40. The blues is in there, just below the surface. The blues is that powerful. It nurtures us in a way that new stuff can’t. It’s always going to have a seat at the table.

FifteenMinutesWith.Com 09.06.2015

https://www.fifteenminuteswith.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/the_kebt_mo_interview.png 400 600 Michael McClellan https://www.fifteenminuteswith.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/FifteenMinutesWith_NewLogoPrototype.png Michael McClellan2020-05-25 06:11:022020-06-10 03:12:32Keb’ Mo’ – Storyteller
Film & TV, Music, Q and A

Gerald Webb – From Scratch

Written By: Michael D. McClellan | Gerald Webb arrived in Hollywood the way you might expect, landing in Playa del Rey with the same dreams that others have packed into well-worn suitcases countless times before him, the odds stacked overwhelmingly against his outsized ambition, an unforgiving film industry primed to grind him up and spit the tiny bits and pieces cross country, spitting him back from whence he came. Happens every day. Tinseltown has teeth, sharp and jagged, and they’ve pierced the armor of even the most resilient souls. Surely, Gerald Webb would be next. He might as well have tried his hand at pulling Excalibur from that goddamned stone, because claiming sword from rock is easier than launching a Hollywood career and making it stick. Certainly he’d be forgotten in a blink, crash landing in his old neighborhood, left to explain his demise to empathetic ears while plenty of mouths threw shade the moment he walked away.  I told you he’d be back. I knew he couldn’t cut it. He doesn’t have what it takes…

But Gerald Webb is from Philly, and certainly that counts for something. He’s also a blue collar, lunch pail type-of-dude with great instincts and a supreme work ethic. Webb’s parents always shot straight and set good examples, and his hyperactive imagination was there from the jump. Oddly, acting wasn’t his raison d’être as a youth. Music came first. Growing up in the ‘80s meant being there when an entire industry shifted from vinyl to digital, records replaced by compact discs on their ultimate journey to the cloud. Webb was fascinated with this new platform. An early adopter who recognized its paradigm-shifting potential, he couldn’t help but tinker with the technology. Could a CD player be used to scratch the same way that DJs scratched on vinyl?

WATCH GERALD’S DIRECTORIAL DEBUT FILM

Webb figured out how to pull off that little trick. By then he was a DJ with a regional reputation, and his innovation not only caught the attention of Pioneer executives, it led to a chance encounter – and close personal friendship – with Jason William Mizell, better known by his stage name Jam Master Jay. Soon the world’s first digital turntablist was opening shows for the flashy, founding member of Run-D.M.C. Webb’s acting bug? He’d grown up with that thought in the back of his mind, but it remained parked there while he scratched his way through clubs all over the East Coast. Only in those quiet moments did he allow for an honest assessment of his career arc. The DJ money was good. The events were a blast. Problem was, the DJing scene fed the ego but not the soul. Webb wasn’t fulfilled.

Serendipitously, the urge to act intersected with a class offered by Philadelphia casting director Mike Lemon, best known for his work on The Sixth Sense. Webb soaked it up like a sponge. He dipped his toes in the local acting pool, auditioning for parts in commercials and industrial films. The experience pushed Hollywood closer to the forefront of his mind, where an army of doubt and indecision waited to slap it down. You’ll try and fail. Hollywood is a Tom Cruise town, a Sylvester Stallone town, not a town for someone who looks like you.

Gerald Webb and Kel Mitchell – ‘Battle of Los Angeles’
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Webb took a class from famed life coach Tony Robbins, and followed that up by diving headlong into The Landmark Forum, a 3-day personal development course grounded in a model of transformative learning – a way of learning that gives people an awareness of the basic structures in which they know, think, and act. Webb emerged with a fresh perspective on his life. The fear that was holding him back? Still there – but no longer capable of wielding the same power. He laid out his plan, trusted his gut, and moved to Los Angeles twelve months later.

~  ~  ~

Even armed to the teeth with a new way of thinking and plenty of street cred in the DJ universe, Gerald Webb was starting from scratch in a city designed to pay him no mind. He was just another would-be actor in a town teeming with them. He arrived in enthusiastic beginner mode, smitten with the beautiful weather and the equally beautiful people hooping and biking and running on Venice Beach. This was a far cry from the bleak February he’d left behind in Philly. He set out to score auditions but had no real clue how to pull it off. Like Rocky Balboa going up against Clubber Lang, Webb was throwing roundhouse punches and hoping to connect, a brutish approach with no refinement or sophistication. Barely six weeks in, Gerald Webb was disillusioned. And then his support system split town. He was alone, on his own, and he could feel those Tinseltown teeth bearing down.

Gerald Webb – ‘Framed by My Fiance’
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Again, Webb got still and quiet. He listened to his inner voice, and he took the necessary steps to be taken seriously. Check the DJing at the door. Identify what you don’t know and come up with a fresh plan to do something about it. Get out there, find and create some genuine allies.

Gerald Webb soon landed his first audition. And then another. Baby steps, but Hollywood began to take notice. Soon he was booking jobs and building his reel. Then another door opened and Webb was casting movies for The Asylum, the independent movie studio that gave the world Sharknado. Webb’s keen eye for talent led him to an executive position within the company, and then, ultimately, partnering with Christopher Ray to form DeInstitutionalized Films, where he’s produced more than 25 films for respected partners such as Netflix, Reel One Entertainment, MarVista Entertainment, Lifetime Network, ION Television and Cinedigm.

Against long odds, Webb was quickly creating a name for himself in this city.

~  ~  ~

Gerald Webb still acts. He’s shared the screen with Danny DeVito, Chevy Chase, Ving Rhames, and Malcolm McDowell. How he pulls this off with everything else on his plate is anyone’s guess, but the man with the indefatigable work ethic also has a bushelful of talent. Witness the accolades which continue to roll in, a 2019 Daytime Emmy award nomination for “Outstanding Daytime Digital Series” as a producer on Amazon’s The Bay, and seven Telly Awards for his production of Circus Kane among them.

~  ~  ~

The coronavirus pandemic has shut down global economies, shuttering the entertainment industry along the way. What it hasn’t done is extinguish the creative light burning bright inside Gerald Webb. His response? $TACK$, a seven-minute short film that he produced and directed, followed closely by the COVID-relative music video Dropping Deuces. Clearly, Webb has his finger on the pulse of a public in desperate need of a diversion from the 21st Century’s first omnipotent pandemic. He can also add director to his ever-expanding resumé.

Not bad for a Philly guy that Hollywood was primed to spit out in bits and pieces.

WATCH GERALD’S COVID-19 PARODY MUSIC VIDEO

Please take me back to your childhood in Philly. Did you always have a creative side?

I was born in Philadelphia. We lived there until I was about two years old, and then moved across the bridge, to a little town in South Jersey called Sicklerville. Even as a kid I was always involved in creative things. My dad was a TV repairman, so we always had technology around the house. When VCRs came out we were one of the first families to get one. Dad had a reel-to-reel, and he would hook up a microphone and record me telling stories, so that was probably the beginning of it. When I got a little older I’d watch the news and pretend to be Peter Jennings. I did a school report on Walter Cronkite when I was a young, and I’d watch Alex Trebek on Jeopardy!, and that kind of intrigued me. When I got a little older I got into breakdancing and popping, so the performer in me has always been pretty close to the surface.

Old School: Gerald Webb and his sisters back in the day
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

You’re known in the business for a tireless work ethic. Did you get that from your parents?

My father worked for someone for many years in Philadelphia, and then he started two shops of his own when I got a little older. I would see him go to work in the morning, and he would come back after what felt like a long day later, and then he would dutifully get up and do it all over again. Every once in a while he would go to work on a Saturday. He stressed doing things the right way, taking time to get it right, and focusing on the task at hand. The lessons he imparted and the values he instilled, I used those every day in my life.

My mother ran a daycare center out of our house, which she still does to this day. She wakes up at 5:30 every morning, is downstairs and ready when kids are being dropped off an hour later, and works until the last kids are picked up at 6:30 at night. She puts in those 12-hour days and never complains, doesn’t take off many holidays, and will only occasionally go on vacation. She’s raised three-quarters of Sicklerville over the years [laughs]. Everybody calls her Mommy Webb. If you know my mother, and if you saw her with those kids, you could tell that she’s clearly doing what she loves. I think that’s what keeps her young.


You worked as a DJ before you started in film and television. This was during a period of rapid change in the industry.

Yeah, everyone has seen DJs scratch on vinyl records, but the technology started to change with the arrival of the compact disc. I recognized early on that CDs were the wave of the future. Pioneer made a CD player that could loop a section of the song, which at the time was revolutionary. They had a spin-off in 1998, and I took their CD player and an effects processor with me. I was able recreate the sound of a record scratching, and the engineers from Pioneer went crazy. They wanted me to show them how I did it, and I was able to leverage that into a job with them. I consulted on product design, marketing, and a bunch of things for Pioneer for the better part of four years. Then I moved on to work for a company named American Audio, and then for Technics, which is a division of Panasonic and Matsushita. Even Hewlett Packard came calling about consulting, though we never closed a deal.

School’s in Session: Gerald Webb and Jam Master Jay
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

As a DJ, you were very much in demand.

I started touring and going to all of these trade shows. There were also all of these articles written about me, and before long I had a national reputation as the world’s first digital turntablist. Then Jim Tremayne, who was the editor of DJ Times magazine, came to me and said, “We’re having a DJ convention in San Francisco, and we want you to compete in the first ever CD-versus-vinyl scratch-off. Would you be interested?” I was like, “Yeah, I’m in!” Jim explained that he had DJ Qbert – the best scratch turntablist all time – lined up for the scratch battle. CD technology wasn’t quite there yet, so I knew that I was bringing a knife to a gunfight [laughs], but Qbert was cool as heck. There were people in the audience yelling, “Kill the CD DJ!” Qbert kept it loose. He was like, “We’re going to go back and forth, and we’re going to have fun.” Qbert understood that though not quite ready at that point, innovation wasn’t necessarily the enemy. It was really an honor to be on that platform with such a legend.


I’ve read where you met the legendary Jam Master Jay at the same convention.

Jay was there promoting his new Scratch DJ Academy, and he was in the back of the room during our battle. The next day, Pioneer had a booth at the show and I’m giving a tutorial on how to do these scratch techniques on a CD player. Jam Master Jay is walking by the booth and stops, but there’s about twenty people in front of me watching the tutorial. He looks over for a minute, and then he walks away. Afterwards, I’m hanging out in the booth and he walks back around the corner. He’s like, “Hey, can you show me what you are doing?” I still have the picture someone took of me and Jay in that moment, and in it I’m teaching the person who most inspired me to become a DJ. Jay is one of the greatest DJs of all time, so I totally geeked out. It was definitely a bucket list moment.


Jam Master Jay became not only a friend, but a mentor. Please take me through the genesis of your relationship with Jay.

When we got done talking he introduced me to his assistant, Lydia, instructed me to give her my number, and said that he’d be in touch. Well, months passed and I didn’t hear anything from Jay, and then out of the blue I get a call from him. He’s like, “Hey man, you still in Philly? I have an event going on in New York on Saturday, and I want you to open up for me.” The next thing you know I’m opening up for Jay at this party at S.O.B.’s [Sounds of Brazil] where he was DJing. He gave me his number afterwards, and we started keeping in touch. He’d call and say he was going to do a show somewhere and he wanted me to open for him. We started to pal around, and he took a genuine interest in my life and career. He saw what I was doing and recognized the obstacles in my way. He helped because he genuinely cared. That is so typical of how amazing of a person he was.

Run-DMC
Photo Courtesy David Redfern/Redferns

Jay got his started playing at parks, and faced his own challenges on the way up.

He told me the story about when Run-DMC did their first European tour. They were already a hit in the U.S. when they arrive at the first venue where they’re going to play. Jay has his turntables, and just as they are ready to do a soundcheck, the people at the venue go, “Where is your band at? You can’t do a concert without a band.” Jay said Run and D were like “Jay IS the band.” That lack of understanding followed him throughout that entire European tour.


You actually worked with Jam Master Jay at Scratch DJ Academy.

He was doing a documentary called Slipmat Studies, and he asked me to be in it. He also asked me to be one of the founding professors for Scratch DJ Academy. It’s still hard to believe.


You have a great story about DJing Jay’s anniversary party.

Jay and his wife rented a boat to tour around New York Harbor for their ten-year wedding anniversary. This is Jam Master Jay, and he could have had any DJ on the planet DJ this party, but he asked me to do it. When everybody got ready to start the dancing, Jay walks up and leans in front of the booth beside my little turntable and goes, “Gerald, crank it up. Get these guys going. Show off.” You have to realize, it’s a Who’s Who of hip-hop in New York on the boat. Russell Simmons, the co-founder of Def-Jam, is there. So I start doing my little trick to make this noise and get everybody’s attention and get the party started. The next thing you know, big-time DJs like DJ Hurricane come running over to the table with their jaws on the floor. A few minutes earlier they were all looking at me like, “I can’t believe that Jay got a CD DJ. This is gonna be whack.” Jay was just standing there in his all-white tuxedo with Adidas Superstars and the biggest smile on his face, looking like the cat that had swallowed the canary. He was like, “Yo, y’all check out my DJ.” That’s who this guy was. He took a chance on a kid from Sicklerville, and not only introduced him to a new audience, but also put him on a different platform. He’s a part of me and will be for the rest of my life. I am just so fortunate to learn from him. His example of humility and serving others is something that I carry with me every day.

Gerald Webb – NetflixFYSEE
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Jay died tragically, and I’m sure it hit you hard.

It was devastating. I couldn’t even talk about it for a long time. Jay was the humblest guy in the room every time I was with him, even though he was arguably the biggest star in the room. I still have a video of Jay talking about his opinion of me as a DJ, and there could be no higher praise. Not long after he passed, I won the American Disc Jockey Association ‘Nightclub DJ of the Year Award.’ I dedicated that to him, and I got to show the footage at the award presentation.

Jay’s murder reminded me that life is precious. Ironically, I was also a victim of an assault with a deadly weapon. I was driving down the highway in LA and somebody shot my car up. Two bullets hit me. If you saw my car, a bullet was inches away from killing me. The mental and physical recovery took months and was one of the most difficult times of my life. But somehow, I felt like Jay was there guiding me through it the whole time. People are going to think that this is insane to say, but I don’t wish it didn’t happen. Who I am now is totally different because of that shooting and the fight to recover and reclaim my life in its aftermath. I don’t know who I would be had that not happened. It was one of the biggest tests I’ve ever faced and it prepared me for many of the professional and personal tests I have faced since.


You’re at the top of your profession as a DJ when you make the jump to film and TV.

I was still living in Philly at the time. I’d always wanted to pursue acting when I was younger, but I veered off into the DJ world. In hindsight, it was a Band-Aid for me, an easy way for me to get into performing without really taking that next step into the film and acting world. I later took an acting class from Mike Lemon, who was the casting director for The Sixth Sense and some other big movies in Philadelphia. During an open call with Mike I did a Hawkeye Pierce monologue from M*A*S*H, and afterwards I told him I was torn about pursing acting. He asked why, and I explained that when I looked at TV and movies, I didn’t see a lot of people who looked like me playing roles like Maverick in Top Gun. Mike assured me that the industry was changing and that there would be plenty of roles for me. Thanks in part to his encouragement, I got an agent in Philly and started going to auditions.


You paid your dues, working your way up by doing industrial films and commercials.

Early on in Philly, I did a commercial for a company called Stratford Academy, and I did some stuff for Waste Management, which really started me working in industrials. You get the auditions that you get, and trust me, it’s a thrill when you book a role. They can tell you that you’ve booked Bystander Number 1, and that you have 1 line, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve booked it. There’s an excitement that comes with it. You can’t help but think, “They like me, they want me, I’m a professional.”

Gerald Webb – UPS Commercial
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

What are the auditions like?

To me, every audition is a form of training. You have to do your best to represent yourself as a professional, and all of it helps you get better. You prepare properly and do the best you can, and then you let the chips fall where they may. But it is all on you. You have to go in prepared having fully embodied a character with a unique perspective and life experience. You won’t land every role, and it won’t always be your fault, but you know when you haven’t performed at your best. In those cases you take a lesson from it and move forward. In fact, the audition I bombed the worst is probably the one I grew the most from. Failing feels terrible but we grow so much more from having experienced failure if we get up and continue taking shots.


Now that you’re in LA, do you still audition for commercials?

Yes, but now I have more of a choice. I took a break from commercials for about four or five years because I was focused on TV and film acting, and the rest of my free time was dedicated to producing. Now I’ve come full circle and have chosen to audition for commercials again, so I’m back in that mix.


Tell me about that jump to LA in 2006. Was it an easy decision to make?

It took years and was not easy at all until… I learned that you need to be both quiet and still in order to make the right decision, because there is a lot of noise that can get in the way – and not just negative noise. Even people who love and care about you will give you advice that is not designed around what you want to create out of your life. It’s designed for you to be safe. And while that is meant with love, it’s not necessarily conducive with you having a fulfilled and happy life. Truthfully, I think it took me at least ten years to get quiet and still enough to move to LA. There was a lot of noise – going to LA isn’t sensible, you probably won’t make it out there anyway, you’ll fail and bounce back to Philly, and on and on – but, once I got quiet and still enough, I didn’t allow myself to become discouraged, and I was able to make a choice that had been essentially speaking to me since I was a small child.

It was hard to let go, but I had been doing some soul-searching for years. I was enjoying DJing. I looked happy and fulfilled, because touring with rock bands and hip-hop artists was cool and a lot of fun…but it wasn’t fulfilling me on a base level. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to do for the next twenty years. Still, I was holding onto it with both hands as tight as I could. Once I figured out what I really wanted, I realized the only way I could ever attain it was by letting go. That’s when it dawned on me: I was holding onto this my DJing success like it was the most important thing in the world to me. While DJing is and always will be a huge part of me, it wasn’t even really what I wanted for my life and career. If I had to do it all over again, I would’ve jumped to LA straight out of high school.

Gerald Webb – ‘Battle of Los Angeles’
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Many dream of pursuing a career in Hollywood, but few actually make that leap.

Fear never goes away, it just transitions to another set of challenges – auditioning for a role, casting a film, or whatever the case may be. Some people like to claim that they’re fearless, but that’s garbage. Everybody has fears. You sometimes act in the face of those fears and create courage along the way. I took a course called The Landmark Forum, which is a personal development course that really helped me understand and acknowledge my fear and create my future despite my fears. It opened up my thinking. Almost immediately I made the decision to move to Los Angeles and one year later I touched down at LAX with two suitcases and a backpack.


What were those early days like in LA?

The beginning of 2006 was a dream. I was living in Playa del Rey, a block from Venice Beach. I’m riding my bike to the beach every day and playing basketball in February like it’s summertime. For a Philly boy, this is amazing…at least for a few weeks. Then one of my friends moved to Vegas, and the other left for Thailand to help with the tsunami recovery effort there. A month-and-a-half went by, and I wasn’t having any luck as an actor. I thought I knew what I was doing. I had headshots, but when I look back they were terrible. I was getting this newspaper called Backstage, which came out a couple times a week, and I’d read it and send my headshots to all these casting offices. I even went in person to a couple of them and I quickly learned that they don’t want you dropping in. They were like, “There’s a box on the corner, there’s a box outside, leave your headshot in the box and get out.” It was almost that rude [laughs].

So I’m waking up every day and nothing is happening with my career. I’m sleeping in more, I’m feeling a little lonely, and I started to realize that I’m even a little bit depressed. I start to question myself. Maybe coming out here had been the wrong choice after all. Then I thought: You took a decade to decide to come out here. You got rid of your company. You changed up your whole life. And now, after a month-and-a-half, you want to pack up and move back? That’s when I said to myself, “Your DJing career isn’t going to get you into an audition rooms here in Los Angeles. Nobody cares. Get over your ego, humble yourself, and start this new job like you know nothing.” I said it direct and forceful enough – with a few curse words thrown in – that I went, “Okay, I’ll try another approach but you don’t have to be a jerk about it, Gerald.” [Laughs].

Gerald Webb and Mark Dacascos
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

The ultimate come-to-Gerald moment [laughs].

I did two things. First, I took a piece of paper and split it in half. On the left-hand side of the paper I wrote down everything that I thought I needed to do to help my acting career. On the right-hand side I wrote down everything that I knew I needed to do, but had no clue how or exactly what to do. For example, on the left-hand side it was like, ‘Get new headshot.’ On the right-hand side it was like, ‘Which photographer?’ ‘What do I wear?’ ‘Where do I have them printed?’  The next one was like, ‘Get an agent.’ On the right-hand side, it was ‘Make phone calls.’ ‘Send emails.’ The list on the left was about half a page, and the list on the right was about four pages long. It was overwhelming, so I made myself a promise, and that was to get up every day and take action on one thing on left-hand side of the list, no matter how big or how small.

The second thing that I did was make a list of the few people that I knew who were either in LA, or who were in LA at some point in their lives. I called each one of them and I said, “Listen, I need a favor. I’m really lost, and this is what I want to do with my life. Do you have any advice, or do you know anybody that is in this industry that would take a five-minute phone call from me?”

One of the people I called was my buddy, Mike Hines, who is a singer/songwriter from Delaware. He’d moved to L.A. briefly to pursue his career, and he said, “I took a class from a guy named Mike Pointer. He talks about mindset, and I think you’ll like him. You can audit his class for free.” I immediately Googled this guy and sent him an email, and he replied almost as quickly. The next night I audited his class and was blown away. It probably knocked off a page of the stuff on the right-hand side that I didn’t know. I was like, “So this is what a headshot should look like; this is where you should have them printed; these are some of the photographers that you should look at; this is how you get an agent; this is how you get into an audition.” It was a great class for anyone new to L.A. and the business.

I called another friend, Eugene, who said, “My buddy Mark has been a series regular on four shows. Give him a call, tell him you are my friend, and he will talk to you.” It turns out Mark is Mark Christopher Lawrence, a character actor who has been in movies like Terminator 2: Judgment Day, The Pursuit of Happyness, and the series Chuck. His advice was simple. Get a job so that I have some money coming in, and then get in a class. He showed an amazing amount of grace by taking that cold call and giving me advice. He’s since acted in a bunch of movies that I’ve produced and is in my directorial debut film, $TACK$.

Gerald Webb – On the set of ‘Assault on VA-33’
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Did things start to click?

I went from 0-to-60. I started auditioning in March, and in April I booked my first feature film. The timing wasn’t good though – I’d already agreed to go on tour with Sammy Hagar starting in May, so I didn’t want to leave because things were starting to ramp up. I went anyway. It was really important to honor the commitment. You have to be your word. So I toured with Sammy Hagar for three months, which was one of the best experiences of my life.


Did the Sammy Hagar tour break your momentum?

Ironically, no. About two weeks before the end of the tour I started going on this electronic casting website and submitting myself. I got back to LA on a Friday night in early September, and I had and audition the next morning. Over the next three months I went on 120 auditions, and I had booked seven or eight different projects. And from taking Mike Pointer’s class, I knew I could audit other classes for free. I audited almost every acting class in town [laughs]. I went to 90 classes in 85 days. This was a great lesson to learn to not create problems that don’t actually exist. The idea of my momentum being broken was a fear I created not reality.

Gerald Webb – On the set of ‘Zombie Apocalypse’
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Let’s bounce back to Jam Master Jay for a second. I’ve read where he lined you up for an acting gig.

A pilot called “Espia,” was being shot to present to Showtime with Mike Clattenburg, who was involved in the Trailer Park Boys series, directing. Jay was going to do this big cameo, and they were looking for a real DJ to play one of the lead roles. Jay was like, “Yo, have my boy G come up.” I auditioned, and even though they didn’t give me that role, they encouraged me to pursuing acting. To hear that from people who were in that industry as professionals, that really meant something at the time.


What happened to the pilot?

I don’t believe it ever went anywhere. They ended up giving me a different role in the film, I played a kind of pre-DJ Khaled hype guy at the club. The funny thing is Espia had ESPN’s Max Kellerman in the pilot. It’s kind of hilarious now. Years later I actually had him do a cameo on one of the Sharknado films. I feel bad because, at the last minute, his cameo was cut from the final edit. So Max missed out twice, unfortunately.

Gerald Webb – On the set of ‘Mercenaries’
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Speaking of Sharknado, you have quite the resume as a casting director. How did this come about?

I was a little scared of casting because I didn’t come here to cast. I came here to be an actor. Christopher Ray, who is now my business partner at DeInstitutionalized Films, was directing a movie for The Asylum, which is the company that produced Sharknado. Chris and the casting director didn’t really see eye-to-eye on the talent, so Chris said, “Hey, can you do me a favor? I can’t be in all of these auditions, can you sit in and just make sure that I am getting good choices?” I agreed, as long as I didn’t have an audition myself.

The movie came out and they were really happy with the cast. One of the partners at The Asylum, David Latt, came to me and said that they had another movie starting in two weeks, and he wanted me to cast it for them. I asked for a couple of days to think it over, because, to be really frank about it, I was scared that this was going to get in the way of my own acting career. I could see myself becoming so consumed with auditioning actors for their movies that I’d have to miss my own auditions if my agent called. Well, I went home and thought about it, and I finally just told myself to stop being an idiot…to stop creating problems that aren’t there. Once again, I had to realize that the problem exists when it exists, and when it did I’d figure out how to deal with it. Worst case scenario, if I had to call a bunch of people and reschedule, then I’d call them and reschedule. I worked at that company for the better part of five years, and actually ended up being an executive there. During that time I think I missed two auditions because of conflicts.


I imagine you were working your ass off during this time.

The Asylum was doing a movie every month. I’d cast one, and maybe work in it as an actor, and then jump into another one. The great thing was that I had a job and I was making money, but I was working 70-to-90 hours a week, plus whatever I did onscreen. I loved it, because I was involved in various aspects of the filmmaking process. I learned that some of these casting decisions don’t necessarily go to the best actor. I had a producer one time say, “Great actress, but I can’t cast her because she reminds me of my ex-wife.” I understand that, but I feel sorry for that actress. The truth of it is that there are a million reasons actors don’t get roles, and I got to see the other side of that as casting director. You’re too tall, you’re too short, somebody’s friend got in the door. By having a seat at the table I was able to get to know directors and the producers, and as a result I got placed in plenty of films. I never came at them and said, “I want this role. You need to put me in in this film.” I would audition, or I would have them take a look at my reel, or I might tell them that I’d love to be in their movie if they had a role that fit me.


When it comes to casting a film, what’s the pressure like to land a big name to help carry it?

It’s huge, and I’ll give you an example. My business partner Chris Ray was directing a movie for the Syfy Channel called Almighty Thor. We’re about a week away from filming, and they don’t have any recognizable names to help sell this film. David Latt, COO of The Asylum, approaches me and Chris a bit  panicked. He says, “I’ve struck out. I haven’t been able to find any stars for this movie. If you have any ideas please let me know, we’ve only got a few days or Syfy may back out of this deal.” So I made some calls to some agents that I’d been dealing with, and I was able to find a couple of recommendations. One of them was Richard Grieco, who we cast as Loki. Then we got Kevin Nash, a WWE wrestler, who was perfect as Thor’s father, Odin. I got those deals done and the project moved forward without a hitch. Distributors want big names to sell.  Without them your road to distribution and profit are rough.

Gerald Webb – At the Emmys
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

You have an eye for talent.

Yeah. The next deal comes up, it’s a movie called Zombie Apocalypse. David Latt says, “Read this script and tell me who you think we should hire for the star.” So I read it and gave him my list. He liked it but said that I’d never get any of them to do our movie. I asked him to let me try, and then I went out and got Ving Rhames, Taryn Manning, and Eddie Steeples. At the time, Ving was a really big get for The Asylum, probably one of the biggest names that they’ve ever had.


What’s your secret when it comes to landing stars?

A lot of it was relationships. I’ll talk to their agents and say, “This is what have, who do you have that  needs work? Who wants to work? Who’s hungry?” I also look at projects a little differently than most. For example, Ving Rhames is someone who’s known for playing the bad guy, so I’ll go against typecast and offer him the hero role. We’ve had some roles that were written for men, but put star name women in those roles. Kel Mitchell, from The Kenan and Kel Show, is known for comedy. I made him the hero soldier in the Syfy Channel film Battle of Los Angeles. He had never gotten to play that type of role.

I cast a movie called Android Cop for The Asylum. Michael Jai White played the lead detective who later on finds out that he is an android. Kadeem Hardison played one of the other detectives, and Charles Dutton played the mayor. I sent Michael the script, and Michael says, “You’re really going to let me play this role?” He was shocked because these weren’t the types of roles that Hollywood was letting him play. Charles Dutton comes to the set, and he’s like, “I can’t believe you’re letting this many minority guys play these level characters altogether.” But by giving them an opportunity to be a part of something that they weren’t used to seeing, and playing roles that they weren’t used to playing, it made our film better.

Gerald Webb – ‘Sharknado 3’ Premiere
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Hollywood needs more champions out there breaking down those typecasting barriers.

Actors want to be challenged. Actors want to break out of the stereotypes that Hollywood wants to impose upon them. It’s a Catch-22. In order to break through in Hollywood, you have to somewhat accept and master the stereotypes that they want you to play, and they want you to master them. Then, as an actor you don’t want to be stuck there, so you have look for roles in independent projects to show Hollywood that you can do other things. I am so happy to see the progress mainstream Hollywood is making in diversity.  But there is still a long way to go both in front of and behind the camera. The champions you reference will shine as they have more opportunities as writers, directors, studio executives aka decision makers.


You’ve also been ahead of the curve when it comes to diversity.

I’ve been doing this kind of counter-casting for the past dozen years, well before the whole #OscarsSoWhite controversy and the current Hollywood focus on diversity. But I couldn’t do it in a vacuum. We were working on a movie that was going to star Bai Ling and Christopher Judge from the Stargate series. Paul Bales, one of the partners at The Asylum, backed me from Day One. He said, “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sell this movie, but we’re going to give it a try.” I give David Rimawi, David Latt and Paul Bales, the partners at The Asylum, a lot of credit because they embraced my unrelenting push for diversity and allowed a lot of it to happen. They deserve a lot of credit for that, I’ve seen many others use any excuse in veiled attempts to side step diversity. And to your point, our diversity went up dramatically during that period. We started getting notes from networks like Syfy, commenting on how we were getting stars that other companies couldn’t get them. Collectively, we were way ahead of the curve on this and dispelled the old and false narrative that diversity doesn’t sell.


One moment you’re a casting director, the next you’re an executive. You’re busy.

I think my boss must have thought, “Hey, I can offload some work because this guy is good at it.” [Laughs.] So he gave me more responsibility and a promotion to Director of Talent, an executive-level position. Keep in mind, I’m still pursuing acting, and I’m casting the series regulars for the first season of  Syfy’s Z Nation series. Then Sharknado comes out of nowhere and I cast that project – Ian Ziering, Tara Reid, John Heard, everyone in that first cast were all my ideas and hires. One of the reasons I got good at what I was doing was because I had no choice but to put the time in. I had to find great casts. I had to find great stars but had limited time and resources at my disposal. One year we did 20+ movies and a TV series, and I oversaw all of that casting. Over a five year period I cast 130+ movies, and a television series. I know casting directors who haven’t done that many projects in their entire careers. So, it turned into a lot, but it was all growth, all challenge, all push. There were few moments to just relax, but there’s a reason The Asylum has been around for 20+ years. They don’t fix things with money. They have a budget, they stick to their budget, and you have to figure out a way to make things work. I learned and grew a lot while working there.

Gerald Webb – ‘Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus‘
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

What do you like most about being an executive?

I think of myself as an executive-in-training. There are some things that I am terrible at, and others that I’m probably pretty good at. I really want to learn how to put bigger projects together. As an executive at The Asylum, and now at DeInstitutionalized Films, I truly enjoy steering projects and having the ability to influence a project at a high level.

People think being an executive is a cushy place, but I think it’s the exact opposite. There is more stress and more work, and you’ve got to wear so many hats. I’m a blue-collar guy. I will get in there and move tables and chairs if that’s what we need on set that day. I have cleaned a toilet. I will help the art department. There are times when I do all of those things, but, there are also times when I shouldn’t be doing any of them because I need to be focused on things that are going to steer the ship better. So, I’m still learning how to delegate, how to handle teams, how to deal with the Millennials that are working for me. There are so many things that still have to be learned, that have to be practiced, that I have to get better at. So what I like the most is the challenge of being an executive-in-training.


Do you have an example of how wearing so many hats forces you to look at things from different perspectives?

We’re working on a series at DeInstitutionalized called FraXtur, which Christopher Ray and I co-produced. I just got the edit of the eight episodes, and while I’m excited to watch them, I’ve got to make time to watch them in a critical manner. I need to be thinking how we can make this better. I might need to send notes to the editor. I might need to pick up the phone and call Chris, who is also the director. If I’m only an actor and project is released with something that doesn’t work, that’s not really my problem. There have been times I’ve worked as an actor on somebody’s else’s set, and it’s just not my place to say something. I may offer my opinion. If they don’t take it they don’t take it. Sometimes Chris and I may butt heads and disagree about something, but, we are both fighting to make the project better from different perspectives. I like having a seat at that table. $TACK$ was an entirely different perspective coming in as writer, director and producer. I saw the whole process from a new angle and it was very enlightening.

Birthday Cake for the OG
Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

You’ve acted with Danny DeVito. Tell me about that.

I booked an episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and when the time comes I’m like, “Wait a minute, I’m doing a scene with Danny DeVito!” That’s the cool thing about acting. Tomorrow I could be doing a scene with any actor in the industry. I could get an audition tomorrow, and the next thing you know I am opposite Patrick Stewart. Or Viola Davis. Even now, the idea of ever acting with Danny DeVito never seemed possible…at least until he was standing right there in front of me. It’s a wonderful reminder that truly –  anything is possible. Also that most limits and barriers are ones we create or at least accept ourselves.


You not only hired Ving Rhames, you’ve acted with him.

I had a death scene with Ving – I was the token black guy who dies at the beginning of the movie [laughs]. To make it worse, I cast myself in that token role, so I’ll take full blame for that. Seriously, acting with Ving was great. I was in the scene with Ving, Eddie Steeples, Taryn Manning, and Lesley-Ann Brandt among others. The zombies swarm me and started biting, and I’m trying to get away. It’s actually two death scenes in one because I turn into a zombie and they have to kill me all over again. Well, we’re walking back to base camp after filming and Ving says, “Yo, Webb, that was nice man. That was a really nice death scene, brother.” I laughed so hard! That was a really cool moment. . It was also a critical moment in my development as an actor. It confirmed for me that I was ready to stand opposite anyone in the business as long as I prepared and did my work.


I’ve read where you did a scene with Malcolm McDowell. What was that like?

That was incredible. I play an INS agent, and Malcolm McDowell’s character has married this young woman to get her citizenship. My partner and I are trying to find holes in their stories, so I’m interviewing Malcolm and my partner is interviewing the young wife. The scene is supposed to be played like something from Dragnet – no joking, dead serious – because we’ve got to catch this guy. The whole time the camera is on me, Malcolm McDowell is trying to make me laugh. The whole time. And I have to stay serious! Score one for me, and take one away from Malcolm, because he didn’t break me. As soon as we were done I said, “I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t break me in there.” He just started chuckling. Malcolm McDowell was a lot of fun. . I think somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear Ving Rhames’ voice saying “Yo Webb, Malcolm McDowell can’t break you, brother!”


Those are memories to last a lifetime.

Yeah. I just did a scene with Jessica Alba and Gabrielle Union for the show called LA’s Finest, which is on Spectrum. They play two LAPD detectives. Traditionally that would’ve been two men. So that was a really cool moment, being in a scene with strong, talented women in non-traditional roles. Being nominated for an Emmy as a producer is something else I’ll never forget. Winning our first Telly Award was another. Being on the set of $TACK$ as a first time director was amazing. You never want to take these things for granted.


We talked about fear in terms to taking risks. Have you ever acted in something that, for whatever reason, has scared the shit out of you?

I just did an episode of a show called 9-1-1 for Fox. I’m playing a sergeant with Ryan Guzman, one of the series regulars, and I’m in one of his flashbacks when he was a medic in Afghanistan. I get to location, and they have a real Black Hawk helicopter there. The guy goes, “Are you okay going up in this?” I spent two days flying around in a Black Hawk helicopter! With the door open! Who gets to do that? When those rotors are spinning and you walk underneath the blades and out to the helicopter for the first time, you have some fear. When you go up you’re really scared, but you’re an actor so you’ve got to be a professional [laughs].

Photo Courtesy Gerald Webb

Final Question: If you had one piece of advice for others who aspire to get into the acting game, what would that be?

Two things: First, be really clear about what you want. If you can get to a place and stay quiet and still enough to really listen, something is already speaking to you. Second, you have to be willing to humble yourself and do the work. I feel like we’re living in a time when so many people don’t want to really do the work. They want to work as much as the person next to them, maybe a little bit more, but at the end of the day that only makes you average. You’re not getting ahead in this industry just being average. Be honest with yourself about where you are in your journey, the quality and amount of work you’re willing to put in etc.

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