Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, July 9, 1993 TAG: 9307090063
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By MAL VINCENT LANDMARK NEWS SERVICE
DATELINE: LOS ANGELES LENGTH: Long
The reason was Clint Eastwood.
Two thousand extras were needed to cheer at a political rally in "In the Line of Fire," his new movie opening today. When word got out that Eastwood would be appearing in the scene, running alongside the presidential limo, 5,000 people showed up, many of them yelling, "Yo, Clint, make my day!"
"It was amazing," said director Wolfgang Petersen. "The minute it was learned that Clint was in the scene, people showed up from everywhere . . . and they wouldn't leave. Signs broke out that read `Clint for President.' I was amazed at the hero image he has and at how low-keyed he is in handling it."
"In the Line of Fire," Eastwood's first movie since his Oscar triumph in "Unforgiven," may go down in history as the latest, and most comfortable, change of image for the star.
Since 1964's "A Fistful of Dollars," he has been an international symbol of America - first the tight-lipped, beleaguered hero and then the rebel lawman who took things into his own hands. Sociologists may disagree on the suitability of the image, but the fans were constant.
Now, we have a new, vulnerable Eastwood - and one not above poking fun at himself. "In the Line of Fire" has the 63-year-old actor as a Secret Service agent on the verge of retirement; the script includes numerous jokes referring to the character's over-the-hill status. One is reminded of "True Grit," the 1969 Oscar-winning Western that enabled John Wayne to prolong his career by spoofing his own image.
"I don't mind being the brunt of the jokes," Eastwood said the other day via satellite from Austin, Texas, where he is working on a new film with Kevin Costner. "I'm a realist. I'm not a 30-year-old kid anymore."
Eastwood plays Frank Horigan, a tough, uncompromising agent whose dedication has cost him his family and friends. He's a loner who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself for the president, but Horigan is haunted by the day he didn't move fast enough. He was on duty Nov. 22, 1963.
Thirty years later, no one will believe him that a potential assassin (a chillingly cool John Malkovich) is tracking the president.
Eastwood's persona has always been that of the expert at delivering bullets, not receiving them. Frank Horigan is a different, more vulnerable and more human hero.
"In the Line of Fire" also puts to rest rumors that Eastwood would return to business as usual after "Unforgiven," his arty, revisionist Western whose Oscars included best picture and director. The title is misleading; there is action, but there also is emotion.
"I like the fact that this hero has to overcome not only the antagonist but himself," Eastwood said. "I hadn't planned to work again for a while after `Unforgiven,' but when I read this script, I wanted to do it right away. Once I agreed to do it, everything fell into place quickly."
As for how the Oscar has changed his life, he smiled and said: "It's nice to be in the history books, but I'm glad it's over. That whole December-to-spring thing is like a non-ending race. From the first time, when the critics said we had a chance, things just multiplied. Then there's all this talk for the next four months.
"When Oscar night finally gets there, you're a little weary of it all. It's quite a process to go through. I never knew it was like that. Of course, I'd never been nominated before."
Most of Eastwood's box-office hits have been lambasted as overly violent and commercially crass. Critic Pauline Kael called 1971's "Dirty Harry" a "right-wing fantasy," pointing out that the villain wore a peace symbol and that the film and its three sequels ("Magnum Force," "The Enforcer" and "Sudden Impact") were "propaganda for paralegal police power and vigilante justice."
If anything, though, his films were a reflection of the times. People were fed up with violence on the streets and the inability of the courts to punish the criminals. And, Eastwood said, they probably still are.
"People are much more discouraged about politics and the country in general today than they were back then, but maybe they don't fantasize about violence as a way of curing it as much. Now, I think we worry about economics more, but I haven't seen any scripts that could make a good movie about the economic situation."
Which means his new movie doesn't dwell on the deficit. "In the Line of Fire" is the first film that had the cooperation of the Secret Service.
"I used to talk to them on the golf course or at White House events," Eastwood said, "and they'd ask me, `When are you going to make a Secret Service movie?' They were always required to be pretty emotionless men, like robots. They're always watching. They never rest.
"The intriguing thing to me was that this man, Frank, was willing to give his own life for a man he didn't even know, and might not even like. In one scene, we make it clear that he doesn't want to get to know the president too well because he might not like him. Now, that's an interesting character."
Looking for challenges
Clint Eastwood comes by his down-to-earth demeanor naturally. A child of the Depression, he spent his boyhood trailing a father who pumped gas up and down the West Coast. He never spent an entire year in one school and, after high school, worked as a logger, steel-furnace stoker and gas pumper before settling in Hollywood in 1955.
Look closely and you can spot him in "Frances in the Navy," "Tarantula" and "Ambush at Cimarron Pass." It was an eight-year run as cowboy Rowdy Yates on TV's "Rawhide" that got him some recognition - and a job in Italian Westerns that made him a star.
It is clear, though, that Eastwood intended to be more than just a box-office star. He broke type to play a Union officer at a girls school during the Civil War ("The Beguiled"), a shoe salesman who goes into show business ("Bronco Billy"), an eccentric movie director ("White Hunter, Black Heart") and a tragic country singer "(Honkytonk Man").
Invariably, his breakaway films were his only box-office disappointments. The public wanted him to remain the laconic, lanky loner.
Still, he insisted on varied challenges. He sang in "Paint Your Wagon." "Pale Rider" was atypical of Westerns - Eastwood seemed to be playing a combination of Death, Jesus and the Terminator. "Play Misty for Me" was the first of 16 films he has directed.
With "Bird," based on the life of jazz revolutionary Charlie Parker, Eastwood served notice that he could direct an "art" film. Often, he has offered to star in order to raise money for films he wanted to direct.
"I was always interested in the total ensemble of a picture," he said, adding: "I'm trying to get away from pictures I both direct and act in. It's not my favorite thing."
He's wearing both hats, however, for "Perfect World," which is being shot in Texas and co-stars Kevin Costner and Laura Dern. The film is behind schedule but Eastwood isn't concerned.
Asked about working with Costner, he said: "He's a very hard worker. This film is very different for him, a new stretch. A lot of it is on the road. He's a very receptive performer, and I think he's doing a wonderful job."
As for his personal life, Eastwood's nasty separation fight with longtime love and frequent co-star Sandra Locke is behind him. His present love is the very-much pregnant Frances Fisher, who played the madam in "Unforgiven." He blushes when asked about preparations for impending fatherhood.
"Oh, I'm a very experienced man in that category," he deadpanned, blushing and staring straight ahead.
So what is the toughest thing about being Clint Eastwood? His answer is down-to-earth:
"Getting up in the morning. With `Line of Fire,' though, I had the incentive of playing an interesting guy. At the end, he's still a loner. He still marches to his own drummer. I like that."
by CNB