I’d love to report that, upon meeting for our interview, Bill Murray made an entrance worthy of the comedy royalty he is—his publicist announcing his arrival with the aid of a drumroll and a megaphone. But, quite the contrary, Murray enters looking like he might be your grizzled, long lost neighbor, his flannel shirt and baggy, belted jeans complimenting an unruly shock of gray hair. The rare actor who’s constantly remained both mysterious and accessible, Murray soon proves, yet again, that he’s able to genuinely open up without fully opening up, putting his cards on the table while retaining a certain irresistible mystique. Who is this unkempt character you might not gaze upon twice in the street, except maybe to give him money? He’s only one of the most versatile stars in the business, an Oscar nominee and Saturday Night Live legend who’s paired himself with auteurs like Jim Jarmusch, Sofia Coppola, and, of course, Wes Anderson.
Murray is speaking to me inside the chic Hotel Adlon, which overlooks the historic Brandenberg Gate in Berlin. We’re both in town for the 2014 Berlinale, or Berlin International Film Festival, where Murray’s latest film, the sublime Wes Anderson opus The Grand Budapest Hotel, served as the opening night movie and walked away with the Silver Bear for Best Feature. The film, which takes place in a fictional realm akin to Germany, and follows the travails of a hotelier (Ralph Fiennes) and his lobby boy (Tony Revolori) in a frigid landscape, is one of many fruitful Anderson-Murray collaborations, and their teamings alone made for ample discussion. Still, that doesn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of room to chat about SNL, that time Poland “was closed,” his near-catastrophic rapport with Rushmore star Jason Schwartzman, and how an actor’s chest is kinda like a guitar box.
Q: What is this special Wes Anderson touch, in which he’s able to get so many big stars to often appear in relatively small parts?
A: We are promised very long hours and low wages. And stale bread. That’s pretty much it. It’s this crazy thing where you’re asked to come and work very long hours, and you lose money on the job, because you wind up spending more in tips than you ever earn. But you get to see the world, and see Wes live this wonderful, magical life, where his dreamscape comes true. So, if we show up, he gets to have all his fun, and I guess it’s because we like him that we go along with this.
Q: At the film’s premiere, you announced to the crowd that The Grand Budapest Hotel is Wes’ best film.
A: Oh yeah, there’s no doubt about it. It’s pretty impressive. It’s quite a vision to be able to see all of that and achieve it. Just the [climactic] bobsled run alone—I didn’t see that one coming. I saw them building [the miniature set], and I was like, “What’s the bobsled run about?” And the [crew members] said, “Oh yeah, the bobsled’s gonna fly down that hill and [Ralph Fiennes and Tony Revolori’s characters are] going to be on it.” And I’m like, “Oh, okay.” But no one expected it to look like it does and be that jazzy. It’s pretty cool.
Q: Were there other things, perhaps during production, that factored into your feeling that this is his best work?
A: Well, when you think of the films he’s done, and then you’re watching this one, and a gunfight breaks out in a bakery, and guys are shooting Berettas at each other. And he did a pretty decent job with the gunfight—the way it’s staged and visualized. Even the explosions on the walls look good. So he did a nice job with that, and just the design elements of the film, from the army uniforms on down. The attention to detail and knowing what the picture is going to be like going from one side [of the scene] to the other is just amazing. And then there’s the music. The orchestra had 40 guys blasting music and it sounds so wild. He didn’t just hire two guys and aurally double it to sound like 40—he had 40 guys doing that.
Q: The word is you spend a lot of time on set, and on location, while making Wes’ movies, even if you don’t end up in that many scenes. Is there a lot of stuff you shoot that we never get to see?
A: Well, I guess there’s some of that. You know, when you put [a script] in the third dimension, there’s just sometimes things that you see that you weren’t expecting on paper. But he’s got a pretty good vision of what he’s doing. There wasn’t a whole hell of a lot that we shot that was [cut]. If you read the script out you’d see it’s pretty spare, pretty clean. Obviously he’s very specific about how he wants things to look and sound. He’s got a lot of tricky camera moves, so you shoot a lot of goofy takes where the camera isn’t absolutely perfect. And that’s the overage.
Q: What’s it like off set? What’s it like when you’re with this big group of people but not necessarily “making the movie?”
A: Well, Willem Dafoe said it was like the “actor’s retirement home.” [Laughs] We had this small hotel in Görlitz, a town on the border of Poland and Germany, and it was all us—there were no other people in it. We walked over to Poland one night, but it was closed, so we were all just in this hotel. It was in the old part of Görlitz, and they shoot a lot of movies there, because it’s intact, and a part of Germany that wasn’t affected by the war. It’s really spectacular, with clock towers that are 400 or 500 years old. The hotel was also our restaurant, and where we’d do prep and makeup. So you’d come down for breakfast and then on the other side of the lobby was makeup and hair. So you’d say, “Excuse me, hold on a sec, I’m gonna go get another croissant.” And then you’d march back over there, all the time in your slippers and a robe, like a bunch of old men dying in a hotel.
Q: What about in the evenings?
A: Well we had a bar. We were in a little town square with a church at the end of it, and there was a bar across the way. It was about 40 steps, but it was snow, all snow, the whole time we were there. And if you were awake, odds are you were still jet-lagged, and you’d walk over there and there would be someone there from the movie, drinking, at any hour of the day. So you could just roll in there, and talk, and listen to music. There was always something to do. There were only a handful of places that we went to the whole time, but they were all really interesting.
Q: You spoke about Wes having a very clear vision of what he wants, but was there something specific you added here once the cameras were rolling?
A: I don’t know. Maybe. The speeches are tongue-twisters. You should try speaking some of these lines some time. They’re tough—especially in the cold. We were shooting outdoors, and even in certain escape scenes where we’re talking in cars, at night, it was freezing cold. And you think, “How cold could it be?” Well, let’s just say it’s zero. And you’re doing the scene for hours because the camera’s not right, the light’s not right, ya know? So, for the first hour it’s okay, and you’re speaking normally, and then you start to get a little [talks in slurred, numbed voice] heavy. And then at the third hour [barely articulating syllables], you’re just trying to get words out. And all the time you’re trying not to breathe too much because you don’t want to blow [visible exhalation] everywhere. So you’re trying to control your voice and you sound a little [adopts numbed voice again] like this. [Continues slurring and mumbling]
Q: Is there a part of your process as an actor that’s changed considerably through the years? Have you streamlined the way you get ready for a scene or a performance?
A: I wake up later. No, I...well, I think the thing that’s most different is the scripts are better. When I started, the scripts just weren’t as good, and you’d have to go to work and have a huge burst of energy to go, “I can’t do this; this stuff’s no good.” So then you’d have to create something, or improvise something, or try to work with the [material], and try to figure out how to make things visually and aurally acceptable and entertaining. So you’d have to go to work and [grunts] cinch-up your belt and make something. Nowadays, the scripts are so much better that I don’t have to feel that way. I can feel like the script’s coming to me. I can just relax; I don’t have to drive the boat. And, really, it’s always been about relaxing. Even with the earlier stuff, I had to be able to sit back, and breathe, and find something I could use. Now, with Wes, specifically, all his props and sets are so perfect, you just have to relax and be part of the chemical process, sort of. It’s almost like the developing of a photograph. If you’re in the midst of it, you’re a part of it—this picture that he’s made. You’re like the flower in the still life, and you just have to sort of be the resident voice, speak the lines, tell the truth.
Q: What about your relationship with Wes? Has your handling of his dialogue reached a mutual understanding? Do you know what he wants?
A: Well, he really wants it a certain way, and he’s heard it in his head a certain way, so he’ll tell people to say it that way. And most actors don’t like that—to be told, “Say it like this.” And for myself, I have a problem with obedience, probably, but I sorta know the pitch of [his work] now. You don’t have to say the lines exactly like he does, but you’ve got to have the sort of clarity in your head so you’re not dragging it down. It’s got to be able to bounce up there. People usually want to gravel it up but it’s not that way—it’s gotta really bounce. It gotta pop along because the script’s really moving. People are talking fast.
Q: How do you bounce?
A: Well, it’s like if someone plays an instrument, say, a guitar. A young player can play it, and if he wants to play a high note, or a fast rhythm, it has a certain [makes twangy noise] desperate quality to it. But when you get a really sophisticated player playing those notes, he can ply those same notes in a tempo where there’s space in between. You can see that there’s actually a process where his interior state is so quick, that he can find time other people can’t find. A young player can go, “[makes clumsy blip sounds],” whereas a real player can go, “[makes smooth blip sounds].” You can notice the difference, and it’s like with that fast pace of Wes’ movies. If you’re real quiet, your whole body will be quiet, and there’ll be echo, and resonance. It’s like your head, or your chest, is like a guitar box. It vibrates a certain way. So if you’re really loose, and warm, the sound comes at you differently. You’re able to shade words and give them different meaning.
Q: What about when you worked with Wes on Rushmore, your first film with him? Obviously, you know how he works now, but did you trust him then?
A: Well, on that job, there was a lot of pressure to meet this guy, and they kept sending me copies of his first movie, Bottle Rocket. I still have many copies. And they’d say, “Do you want to meet this guy?” And I said, “No. Because the guy who wrote this script knows exactly what he wants.” I mean, there was nothing to talk about. It was all right there. He was so precise. I didn’t have any doubt that he would achieve what he wanted to do.
Q: And what about when you got on set?
A: Well, it was really just Jason [Schwartzmann] and I. And this is kind of a funny story: The night before we did our first day of shooting, Wes and Jason and I just sort of ran through our scenes. And for some reason, Jason was just terrible. Just terrible. I was just like, “Ohhhh god. This kid’s no good.” And we were in this hotel in Houston, and they were having a bourbon tasting, and I just went in and drank myself to sleep. But then, the next day, we went to work, and it was all over. It was just one strange, aberrant night where Jason was just terrible. I thought it was going to be the worst movie of my life, and that this kid couldn’t do anything.
Q: Do you guys still talk about that now?
A: Oh yeah, it’s still a thing. I’ll say to Jason, “Do you have any idea how much I drank that night?” But then he was great. Jason’s amazing in that movie, and he’s continued to be amazing. Besides being a wonderful guy, he’s an extraordinarily charmed actor.
Q: Looking back to earlier stages of your career, you’re one of the enduring legends of Saturday Night Live. Do you still keep up with the show, and keep in touch with creator Lorne Michaels?
A: Well, when I need tickets for friends I call Lorne. [Laughs] But I have been watching it more now because these days, it’s real easy to record it. When people used to ask me if I watched the show, I’d say, “I did that show. I like my Saturday nights. I don’t want to [reflect on] work.” Now it’s really easy to record them all, and watch them all, and fast-forward through the commercials. The group right now is very fast—the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone get it. Because usually, when one group leaves, there’s a learning curve for the newcomers. But the new people are really good and Lorne’s new writers are obviously really good. But that previous group with Kristen Wiig—that crowd was really, really good. I mean, they’ve had talented people all the time, through the whole thing, but those guys were actor-actors, and it’s different. There’s a difference. They have people who come that are stand-up comedians, but those people were all trained, improvisational actors, and they made the material work better. Because the material’s not quite finished at 11:30 p.m., and the actor types can sort of keep writing even through the performing of it on air, and solve things in the moment. You can feel it, and just be like, “Here it is—bam!”
Q: In relation to that, a lot of these people now are going into dramatic acting, which is something that you’ve done. What is it about comedians that makes some of them our best dramatic actors?
A: Well, that’s one of those things that actors know—to play funny, you have to be able to play straight. So if you can play straight in comedy, you can play straight in drama. It’s the same process. It’s not any different. There are some people who are funny but can’t necessarily play straight—they do a certain kind of range of comedy. But if you’re really good at it, you can play straight.
Q: At this point in your career, it’s obvious that you’re being offered some great scripts. What are you thinking about at the moment in terms of what you’re being offered?
A: I’m not thinking about anything. I’m going to do something in June—work on this film my friend Mitch Glazer wrote called Rock the Casbah. I’ll go to make that movie this summer. But that’s all I’ve got in my head. You can’t think about what you’re gonna do. It just gets in the way. You have to just be available, for life, otherwise you’re not bringing anything to the party.
