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Rebel with a Cause
Matt Dillon Is Trying To Shed His Angry Young
Actor Image
by James Suckling
It's Halloween night in New York City. Matt
Dillon is cruising down Fifth Avenue toward Soho in a white stretch
limousine. The 31-year-old actor peers through the tinted windows at
the spectacle outside. The streets are wall-to-wall people, not to
mention the hundreds of goons, goblins and freaks in full Halloween
regalia.
About half an hour earlier, Dillon had attended designer Todd Oldham's
fashion show at Manhattan's Bryant Park, where even more elaborate
costumes and audacious characters were on show. It was the designer's
Spring 1996 collection, and the chic, the trendy, the fashion critics
and electrified paparazzi were out in full force. The scene was
surreal as Dillon calmly watched the half-hour spectacle. The bright
lights, blinding flashes, ear-piercing music and suffocating crowds
numbed the senses. One minute Cindy Crawford, the next, Kate Moss--the
display of women and clothes was head-spinning. The battery of giant
lenses at the end of the catwalk wasn't sure whether to blast away at
the supermodels prancing and spinning in front of the audience, or at
Dillon with his fellow actors Julia Roberts, Tim Robbins and Susan
Sarandon sitting in the front row.
Back in the limo, Dillon is quiet and continues to gaze outside at the
hysteria building on the pavement. The limo is crawling down the
street due to the crowds. "I've had enough of this," Dillon says,
feeling cooped up in the back of the car. He makes a quick move for
the door. "I'm getting out. I wanna be out there in the city."
The heavy door of the limo swings open and Dillon emerges into the
middle of the street. He grins ear to ear while he steps between the
stationary cars, surveys the scene and flows into the crowd. He
breathes deeply and walks briskly down the sidewalk, smiling and
saying hello to just about anyone who recognizes him. He fires up a
panatela-sized Hoyo de Monterrey Margarita. "Man, I love this city,"
he says, taking a drag on the Cuban cigar and walking through the
masses of people. "This is what it's all about."
Unlike many young actors, Dillon is more at home in New York than Los
Angeles. He loves its energy, and confesses that he can't get enough
of its diversity. It is on the familiar streets of the city where he
feels his roots and finds his inspiration. Standing 5 foot 11 inches,
170 pounds, the drop-dead handsome actor with his classically sculpted
face and brooding good looks appears like a classic New Yorker--but
more the aristocratic Italian than his immigrant Irish heritage. Those
are the same features that early in his career led to the inevitable
comparisons with a young Marlon Brando or the legendary James
Dean. Dillon isn't one to rest on comparisons, or to let his New York
base slow down his appetite for movie making. He already has 28 films
to his credit. Some of his more successful ones include: My
Bodyguard, The Outsiders, Rumble Fish, The
Flamingo Kid, Drugstore Cowboy, Singles, The
Saint of Fort Washington and To Die For. His four most
recently (or soon-to-be) released films are: Frankie
Starlight, Grace of My Heart, Beautiful Girls and
Albino Alligator.
"New York is a vibrant city," Dillon says during an interview in his
Upper West Side apartment a few days after Halloween. "There is so
much to do here. It's so diverse. But in L.A., the whole town seems to
revolve around the industry. That's a good thing when you need to go
for work and stuff like that, and I have a lot of friends out there--a
lot of longtime friends--but I don't want to live there. I just don't
like it. In L.A. you can spend days without seeing another person. You
see other people in your car, but without really making contact with
them. I mean you really exist that way!"
At least in New York, Dillon is open and friendly to people,
especially when he's out on the streets, which might just be called
Dillon territory. Dillon seems to enjoy meeting people, and often
looks around the room in a restaurant or bar as if he were looking out
for a good friend to join him. A small grin or the opening of the eyes
from an unknown face usually receives some sort of acknowledgment or
smile. He sometimes goes out of his way to recognize strangers.
"I don't have problems interacting with people for the most part--you
know, just being polite," Dillon says. "Sometimes, of course, it is a
nightmare. It can be a real pain in the neck. I don't think anything
prepares you for it. It is a different thing, not being anonymous, and
at a certain point, you realize if you really let this bother you, it
will drive you mad. Better to accept it. Just enjoy yourself. If I was
somebody who really wanted to be alone all the time and not have
contact with people, I wouldn't live in the middle of the city."
There are limits. A scruffy passerby almost pushed the boundaries one
afternoon when Dillon was sitting outside Manhattan's Les Halles
restaurant on Park Avenue South. With slightly crazed eyes and a beard
that hadn't seen a razor for the better part of a week, the young man
demanded that Dillon sign his T-shirt with a large blue marker. "Hey,
man," Dillon says in his rich voice. "I can't do that. No way,
man. That's too much. But I will tell you something. I will sign this
piece of paper here and you'll be fine." Puffing away on a Cuban
Bolivar Belicoso at the time, he ripped a piece of the butcher paper
table cover and signed his name. A warm smile came over the street
stroller as he continued his way down the endless sidewalks of a New
York afternoon, clutching his autograph.
Dillon hasn't always lived in Manhattan, but for most of his life,
he's been in and out of New York City. He grew up in a Westchester
County suburb, less than an hour's drive north of the city. His
parents, both Irish Americans, still live in the same large 1910s
house where Matt grew up with his sister and four brothers. His family
has always been very important to him, and he telephones his parents
several times a week and tries to visit them as often as
possible. Holidays such as Thanksgiving and Christmas are always spent
at home. "I am very close to my family," he says. "That's another
reason why I choose to be in New York. Also, I still have a few
friends that I have had since grammar school. They are very close to
me, since before I was famous, and that's good....I had a very middle
class upbringing," he adds. "There were always lots of kids in the
neighborhood. So, you could always get enough together for a pickup
game of baseball. We had a field at the end of the street."
Dillon never thought of being an actor in those days. His father was a
sales manager for Union Camp, a manufacturer of packaging
materials. His mother stayed at home and took care of the children. "I
grew up in a very close family but by no means sheltered," he
says. "None of my friends were sheltered. Most of the guys came from
dysfunctional homes. I can't imagine coming from a too perfect
family. That would be too sheltered. I wouldn't be the way I am
today. I had a healthy balance.
"I ran with some pretty colorful characters [in high school], but I
never doubted what would happen," he says. "I had direction in my life
at a young age. Some guys around me were a little lost and some paid
the price for it. I was fortunate to have direction and clarity. My
career helped with this, but also it was my family. It was a very
loving house. I know it may sound corny. But it was like that."
He started at 14 in the critically praised but seldom seen film
Over the Edge, a story of disaffected youths living in a suburban
housing project. The story most often told about how Dillon landed a
part in the movie is that he was cutting class and some talent scouts
who happened to be at his school asked him to take a part in the
movie.
"That's kind of true," he says, slightly irritated to have to tell the
story yet again. "But it wasn't so much that I got discovered off the
bat. What happened was that they were looking for kids for the movie,
so they went to my high school. I had seen them walking about and
talking to kids. They asked 10 kids from my junior high school to
audition. I remember I didn't want to audition, but they saw me in the
hall because I wasn't in class. So, they asked me if I wanted to go
for an audition. I said yes. For some reason, I knew I was going to
get the job. I don't remember why. Maybe I was just naive or stupid."
He never really thought about a career in acting after Over the
Edge; it just worked out that way. The casting director for the
movie, Vic Ramos, became his manager and still is today. Dillon never
graduated from high school. He was just too busy. Is he sorry he quit
school? "No, not necessarily," he says. "I learned a lot anyway. I
don't recommend it [dropping out] but it's the best thing I ever
did. It's not like I really dropped out.
"A lot of people say I've missed out on a lot because I started acting
at such a young age," he says. "What's so obvious to me is that I
actually was really lucky. I gained a lot and I got a head start in
what I wanted to do in life. A lot of people in their late 20s, early
30s are just beginning to figure out where they want to go."
You get the feeling that the older Dillon gets, the more he is
enjoying himself. The days of being the pinup in just about every
American teenage girl's bedroom are behind him. He is much more
comfortable as Matt Dillon, actor, than Matt Dillon, teen idol. As a
result, you don't get a lot of the "star" behavior out of Dillon. Most
of his free time is spent with longtime friends, most of whom work
outside of the film industry: businessmen, writers, painters, even
chefs. "To be honest with you, there's nothing that bores me more than
sitting around with a bunch of actors talking shop," he says. "I love
actors and I've got friends that are actors. They're interesting
people. But for some reason, usually when it comes round to talking
shop, there's a part of me that doesn't like it."
This may be why he's seldom dated actresses and other
celebrities. Periodically, his photograph appears in a tabloid
newspaper or glossy magazine with a well-known pretty face. The most
recent was actress Ellen Barkin in a December issue of Women's Wear
Daily. "This happens all the time," he says. "I am just friends
with Ellen. I haven't seen her since July. I wonder where they got the
photograph.
"I am not involved with anyone seriously at the present time," he
adds. "Generally speaking, I have not been involved in relationships
with actresses or celebrities. If I meet an actress that I worked
with, I might be interested. But it might be too complicated."
He says that he has never felt in a hurry to settle down anyway. "I do
think about settling down one day, but I guess in some guys, it seems
more imminent than others. Sometimes I'll be in a department store or
something and I'll hear some kid scream and I'll think that's really
scary. The thought of dealing with that. But of course what I really
think, is that if you are with the right woman and you decide to have
kids and the time is right, it's great. But in the abstract the
thought is kind of frightening.
"The last time I was in a serious relationship was about a year
ago. When I was younger, I would go from one relationship right into
another. But it takes time and energy. It's not so much that I don't
want to get into another relationship right away. It's just that I'm
more particular about somebody I'm going to spend at least three or
four days a week with--a serious relationship with that type of
commitment--or spend every day, which is really what it comes down
to. Certainly with me, I don't plan to do it more than once--you know,
getting married. It's not some whimsical thing for me. I see that a
lot, man. I can't believe so many people seem so whimsical about it."
Marriage would certainly be difficult on Dillon's schedule. Last year,
he traveled a great deal due to the three films he made. He barely had
time to enjoy life in New York. It has been tough for him to get back
into a daily rhythm--working out in the gym in the morning, light
lunches, reading scripts or doing other business in the afternoon, and
going out to restaurants for dinner with friends. "I'm supposed to
spend a lot of time reading [scripts] and I should do more of it than
I do," he says. "My agent sends me a stack of scripts and says, Did
you read this or did you read that. Sometimes you get behind. You can
be the fastest reader, but sometimes you just look at it and go, 'I
dread having to read another script.' It's not the best way to read,
because script form is not a pure writing form. It's writing for
something else. So usually you don't get a lot of pleasure from
reading a script, even if it's good. It's something you don't want to
do."
But surely he comes across a few good scripts that he can get into?
"Yeah, oh sure," he says. "Yeah, that's a sign of a really good
script, almost written to enjoy, like a novel or something. It's
usually less technical and then you get caught up in it...more like a
story which is really well written."
Dillon's script selection has certainly been interesting, to say the
least. He has seldom opted for mainstream movies. He's never worried
about whether the movie would be a huge success. Instead, it's been a
question of a great role or simply a good plot, something that sparks
his interest. "If there's something to work with that's good and if
there's a conflict of the characters, that makes it more juicy,
something colorful. A good script and director, of course, are the
most important things. Sometimes I feel like I've done really good
work, but it doesn't matter if the film doesn't work. The kind of
films where I think the film worked, like The Flamingo Kid or
Drugstore Cowboy or even Rumble Fish or The Saint of
Fort Washington--they didn't do that well at the box office."
For example, two of his best films (in his opinion), Drugstore
Cowboy and The Saint of Fort Washington, never pulled much
at the box office. Stories about four junkies who rob drugstores or a
pair of homeless men in New York are hardly going to fill theaters
throughout America. However, both received some excellent
reviews. Rumble Fish and to a lesser degree The
Outsiders were the first films that began working for Dillon. Both
released in 1983 and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, the black and
white films were based on novels by S.E. Hinton and explored the
sociology of disaffected adolescents in small towns in the Midwest. In
Rumble Fish, he played rough and tough Rusty-James, the younger
brother of the super cool Motorcycle Boy (Mickey Rourke). "A lot of
it had to do with working with Francis," Dillon recalls. "He's
great. You get the feeling that anything can be possible with him. He
has such a huge scope....He is a bigger-than-life kind of guy. We were
down in Tulsa [to shoot Rumble Fish and The Outsiders]
and we felt like an army came to town or maybe better yet, more like a
circus. He came in and created this whole whirlwind, making these two
films."
The next year, Dillon had another winner with The Flamingo Kid,
a comedy that showed his range for something other than tough, sullen
teenager roles. Dillon brought warmth and sincerity to his role as a
young man from Brooklyn called Jeffrey, who lands a summer job at a
Long Island beach club. He also drew a lot of laughs. Some critics
said the movie was too sentimental, missing the opportunity to be
something comparable to The Graduate or American
Graffiti, but you
couldn't help but enjoy the film.
"In a funny way, when I was doing Flamingo Kid, it felt like
college days [even though he never went to college or finished high
school]," Dillon says. "I became friends with the guys in the film and
they're still friends. It kind of felt like a big college
experience. That's why I don't think I missed anything when I started
acting at such a young age."
Nevertheless, he might have had his doubts by the time Drugstore
Cowboy was released in 1989. Dillon had done seven movies since
The Flamingo Kid in 1984, but none was very
successful. Although a highlight was working with Gene Hackman in
Target, released in 1985, most of the films during this period
such as Rebel, Native Son, Big Town and
Kansas went unnoticed. Some critics were beginning to label him
as a B movie actor. He even admitted to a Boston Globe reporter
in 1989 that his career had "fallen off a cliff."
Dillon's performance in Drugstore --as he calls it--was superb,
and it lifted his career to a new level. He had the starring role as
Bob Hughes, the leader of a band of four junkies who live by robbing
drugstores. You wouldn't think a thieving junkie could be someone with
whom you could empathize, but Dillon was more than convincing. Some
people say it remains his best film to date. "Some jobs, while you are
making them, you find yourself living the part," says Dillon, who
spent time in some of the roughest parts of Manhattan watching and
talking to drug addicts to prepare for the role. "You dream about
them. You wake up thinking about it. That is a good sign. That was
Drugstore. It was cool. It was fun to make. It was a small
crew. The actors were great. It worked. It was one of those things
where if it worked, it would be one of those things that was different
and unique. And it turned out that way. Gus Van Sant [the director who
also did the more recent To Die For with Dillon] was great. He
thought more like an artist than just a straight-headed filmmaker. It
is great to work with someone like that."
Although there were films such as A Kiss Before Dying,
Mr. Wonderful and Singles, Dillon's acting career didn't
really shine again until 1993 when The Saint of Fort Washington
hit the streets. It's tough warming up to a young, homeless
schizophrenic named Matthew, but that's exactly what happens in the
film. It's mostly due to the chemistry between Dillon and costar Danny
Glover, who plays his mentor and friend. There's a sad innocence and
kindness to the two homeless men who find comfort in their friendship
and companionship. Some critics found the movie a sugarcoated view of
the plight of the homeless in New York City, but no one could deny
that Dillon and Glover played their parts extremely well. In fact,
some critics argued that the two men carried the film. Dillon says, "I
felt like the character was a kind of blueprint for doing more. The
story was beautifully written but the character needed a little
more...a lot of detail. That's great, man, if you have something like
that when you can bring a lot to making it your own."
Dillon released one film in 1994, Golden Gate, but the 1950s
detective story was virtually overlooked by the public. Last year, he
was in two films, Frankie Starlight and To Die
For. People will better remember him for the latter. Although just
a supporting role, Dillon's portrayal of Larry, the slightly vulgar
Italian husband of the film's beautiful villainess (Nicole Kidman),
attracted wide praise. He is on screen for a little less than
two-thirds of the film--he's bumped off as the title suggests--but he
gives the film an added dimension. "I felt like it was one of the
funniest, most clever scripts I had ever read," Dillon says. "I really
wanted to work with Gus. But I wasn't so sure about the film. [The
character] is a little simple and he doesn't see through his wife. He
just can't believe that his little sweetheart could kill him. It is a
blind spot for him and he pays for it. It was fun doing it but it
wasn't exactly a great challenge. I really wasn't satisfied with it
personally for that reason."
Dillon has some more challenging parts in his forthcoming
movies. He has three films due for release this year: Beautiful
Girls, Albino Alligator and Grace of My
Heart. Dillon is most enthusiastic about Albino
Alligator. Part of this is due to the opportunity to work with
Faye Dunaway, who Dillon says is "fabulous," but he also loves the
plot. At the time of the interview, he didn't want to give away too
much about the film, which was directed by Kevin Spacey. He said it
focuses on three small-time crooks who pull a job and get cornered by
police in a small bar with no back exit. "It becomes a lot more than
just a hostage situation movie," he says. "I remember Kevin Spacey
used to say to me, when people would say that this film is really a
hostage drama, he
would tell them that they just don't get it. I love it...a hostage
drama. So when I'm asked about the film, I'll just tell people that
it's a hostage drama! It makes my life easier because it is about more
than that. It takes place in more or less real time. We shot it in
continuity and 90 percent of the action takes place all in one room,
one location. It was a great experience because Kevin was the director
and he's an actor, plus he's a pal and it was a great cast."
Beautiful Girls might be slightly less original by comparison,
but Dillon remains very positive about the film. He calls it "a slice
of life" movie about a small group of guys in their thirties, living
in New England and driving snowplows, and how they relate to one
another and sort out their lives--particularly their love lives. "It's
funny that the title is called Beautiful Girls because it's
really about guys talking about women, their relationships with women
and, of course, their friendship. There were a lot of things in this
film that hit home because the characters were so real. They're just
regular guys doing their jobs and they make fun of what they
do...there's a certain dignity that they have. I think a lot of people
will relate to the characters."
Dillon has a supporting role in Grace of My Heart, a film about
a young female musician, played by Ileana Douglas, and her various
relationships. Dillon plays a musician, loosely based on Brian Wilson
of the Beach Boys, who becomes involved with Douglas' character. "My
character writes pop songs but he is kind of a genius," Dillon
says. "It is a movie that follows the girl, who is a songwriter in the
'50s, Carol King and that sort of thing. At first I am very sweet and
then she finds that I am not all there. It was a good script and was
interesting to do."
However, as interesting as all his films may have been to do,
Dillon still lacks "the big picture" in his portfolio. He has never
had the blockbuster film that will keep his name in the minds of
Middle America and not just the movie cognoscenti. It's already
happened to some of his peers who shared movies at the beginning of
their careers. The most obvious examples are Tom Cruise, Emilio
Estevez and Patrick Swayze, all of whom Dillon worked with in The
Outsiders. "I do a movie and I hope everybody gets to see it,"
Dillon says. "I'm not somebody who only makes cult movies. Sometimes
they become cult movies and that's fine, but that's not why I make
movies. I would love to do a really good audience picture, but
sometimes it just doesn't get offered to you and that's just the way
the ball bounces. I want to do big movies. I like big escapist films,
certain action films, like The Fugitive."
Dillon apparently has been offered a few big action films in the
past, but he has declined the offers. Of course, he didn't know when
he turned down the parts that they would be huge successes at the box
office. Besides, he doesn't like to talk about the ones that got
away. But does he ever regret turning down a role? "It's hard to say,
because I have a tendency to always think, to thine own self be true,"
he says. "I really believe that. You shouldn't do a film for the wrong
reasons. I've got no regrets. I always feel like if I did a film,
especially a big audience picture [for the wrong reason], maybe Tom
Cruise or someone else would do it and it would be a hit, but if I do
it for the wrong reason--maybe I'm not into it or whatever--then it's
not going to be a hit. It's a tough one to say, because it's that
'what if?' scenario. Sometimes you can get into that
[mind-set], and it doesn't make sense to do that."
To date, Dillon is happy with the choices he has made. "I've worked
with some really great actors," he says. "I remember one time saying
to my manager, 'Why do I always have to prove myself?' And he says,
'Guess what? You always will have to.' And that shut me right up. I
don't like to throw clichés out, but there is a kind of truth
to the one that you are only as good as your last picture. Your whole
body of work is really important, but it's your last picture that
people remember."
Part of the problem with not getting the big part in a major movie is
that Dillon remains typecast in some people's minds. Some continue to
remember him as the angry young man. "There's a lot more that I am
capable of doing than I have done," he says. "There's a lot more that
I have to offer people. Some people would be surprised. If you really
look at my body of work, it's not nearly as typecast as one might
think. I have done a lot of roles and not just played brooding, angry
young men."
What makes sense to Dillon at this point in his career is to try his
hand at writing and directing. "Lately, I've been leaning toward
developing my own material, because you end up spending a lot of time
waiting for something good to come along," he says, adding that he has
already directed several music videos for friends such as members of
the alternative band Dinosaur Jr. "Of course, there are intangibles,
like does the director want you or not, or maybe you like the project
but they don't like you for the project. So I'm thinking, I have
ideas, I should be putting them into something, try to bring them to
fruition. That takes a certain kind of focus and discipline."
Living in New York, Dillon must contend with a lot of diversions. He's
basically a bon vivant of cigars, restaurants, wines, museums, films,
parties, exhibits, music, books and, of course, family and friends. It
was a buddy, a chef named Pep Meyer, who got him into cigars. "I
always enjoyed cigars before," the actor says, nursing his Trinidad
down to the last inch. "I would go out to a good restaurant and I
always would have a cigar. But I wasn't really into them. I couldn't
tell a good cigar from a bad cigar. But Pep got me into it. It's
another world, man. It's such an enjoyable thing. It's all about
taste."
Before he got into cigars, Dillon smoked cigarettes, often up to two
packs a day, especially when he was working on a film. "I wasn't
smoking more then because I had to have a cigarette or because I was
nervous for some reason. I just became more compulsive when I was
working." Was it because he had to keep up some sort of image? "No,
no," he says. "You know, that's the crazy thing. You smoke when you're
a kid because you think it looks cool or whatever, and when you get
older, you find that it's just this ugly habit. It's constant. It's
like feeding. But one of the biggest surprises of my life was being
able to quit cigarettes without that much trouble. I think a lot of it
had to do with knowing that I could have that one cigar a day. I mean,
I could smoke more than that, but generally speaking I smoke at night,
maybe after dinner, or in the late afternoon."
Dillon loves thick, rich cigars, especially torpedos and robustos. His
favorites are Cuban, particularly Sancho Panza Belicosos, Bolivar
Belicoso Finos and Royal Coronas, and Montecristo No. 2s. His main
humidor, which holds a couple of hundred cigars, is packed to the brim
with them. He also likes a few Dominican cigars, mostly Arturo
Fuente's new Opus X. He must have a good connection at Fuente, because
the cigars are almost impossible to find. He also loves a Cuban Hoyo
de Monterrey and Punch Double Corona, although he admits that it's
difficult to find the time to smoke them since they last so long.
He still remembers the first time he bought a Cuban cigar. It was in
Paris during the filming of Target. He was leaving Charles de
Gaulle airport and bought a box of Cohiba Corona Especials in
the duty-free shop. "The first thing I remember liking about Cohibas
was that great bang of flavor," he says, taking another puff of the
Trinidad and savoring it as if he was smoking that first Cohiba. "Now,
of course, I think they are kind of overpriced. They are not my
favorite cigar, to be honest."
As a young boy growing up in New York's suburbs, Dillon knew a family
friend named "Uncle Tom," who seemed to always have a cigar
attached to his hand. "He always smoked a big cigar. At least, it
seemed big, but I was a wee lad at the time," he says with a comical
Irish accent. "Then there was also the taxi dispatch office I used to
go to with my mother. Offices like those always smell of cigars. It
was there that I remember the first cigar I ever tasted. It was a stub
sitting in one of those sand-filled ashtrays outside of elevators. I
pulled it out of the ashtray and stuck it in my mouth. This gnarly
old, nasty cigar. I sort of imagined I was one of those characters
from the comic books, like Sergeant Rock.
"Of course, I also remember using a cigar to light fireworks on the
Fourth of July. People would use matches all the time, but we would
walk around with cigars. You know, I never had problems keeping those
cigars lit. I wasn't even really smoking them. It's these expensive
Cuban cigars that are difficult," he says, laughing, while holding the
smoldering Trinidad.
Other fond memories of cigars include a trip to Havana. He was there a
few years back for a film festival. "It's a fascinating
country. Havana is a beautiful city," he says, adding that he was
amazed he could smoke five or six cigars a day and not feel the worse
for it due to the climate. "Aesthetically, I think it's beautiful,
Havana, but there's a little sadness there. There are very few places
in the world where time has stopped, and I want to see these places
because they're going to change. I mean communism--it's pretty much
obsolete. There are very few places in the world to stop like
that. Most of them are in Southeast Asia like Vietnam, Cambodia and
Burma. I've been to Cambodia and Vietnam. I thought they were really
interesting. They were a little bit like an old haunted mansion, like
that in a funny way, you know. And the people are beautiful down
there; the people are great. They are beautiful places."
Does he have some kind of nostalgic feeling when he visits such
places? "Yeah. Not for anything I experienced but what I imagine," he
says. "Havana is definitely one of the most beautiful cities in this
hemisphere. It's falling apart now, which is unfortunate. One thing
you hope when they finally do lift the embargo and things start really
turning around there, you hope that they restore it all without doing
it in a really cheesy way. I don't mean just rebuilding, but restoring
carefully the old parts. If they just knock down the old buildings and
put up high-rises, then it will just be like any other place in the
Caribbean.
"There is something about Cuba," he adds. "There's no doubt. There's
something romantic about the place, even now with everything going
on. Just look at the music, among other things. Some of the greatest
music ever came out of Cuba in the '50s, '40s and '30s. Some great
music people were there, like the Orquestra Casino de la Playa and
Chico O'Farill. I met O'Farill recently. He was just great. I remember
going to see him play at the Blue Note [in New York City] and brought
him a Cuban cigar. He said that he didn't smoke; but he is one of the
greats. The arrangements on his music are outstanding. He played with
all the great jazz musicians from the U.S. as well as playing
Afro-Cuban music. He really was 'the' guy."
Thousands of vinyl records crowd Dillon's small living room in his
two-bedroom Manhattan apartment. The majority are jazz, although he
likes all music. Listening to some mellow Cuban jazz, sitting in one
of his comfortable leather chairs and smoking a cigar, you feel as
though you might be in downtown Havana. The room is a cool cream color
with light green borders. A French mid-eighteenth century fruitwood
armoire, filled with CDs and his stereo, dominates the room on one
wall. A Victorian-style burgundy velvet couch abuts another wall, with
a centuries-old carved wood table from India acting as a coffee
table. There are two leather armchairs, as well as loads of plants,
mostly ferns, and a half-dozen well-worn suitcases from the '40s in
one corner that he uses for storage. The walls harbor a mixture of
contemporary paintings and drawings, as well as oils by some of the
old masters.
Although Dillon also owns a huge collection of CDs, most of his
thousands of titles are still on vinyl. He says you can't get the same
sound with CD or cassette, and he likes the way vinyl feels, the whole
ritual of records. He frequently goes to flea markets to buy old
records. "I have pretty eclectic taste, but it's funny--usually when
I'm listening to something like jazz, Latin music or that kind of
thing, I'm usually not listening to a lot of alternative music," he
says. "I don't like that word, 'alternative,' but that's what
everybody seems to call new music. I'll fluctuate. Sometimes I'll not
listen to jazz at all and I'll listen to only new music. But right
now, I've been listening to jazz. I like Fats Navarro. There's not
much Fats around, as he died when he was 26, but a lot of trumpet
players have really been kind of digging out on him. Guys like Fats
Navarro, Clifford Brown, Dizzy Gillespie, those guys could really
wail--less introspective than Miles Davis or Chet Baker. I have also
been listening to a lot of Latin music--mostly early Mambo and
Afro-Cuban jazz like Chico O'Farill and Machito."
With his music around him, Dillon enjoys entertaining at home,
although it's usually pretty informal since his place is small and
doesn't have a dining room. Dillon claims to make a great mushroom
risotto, and he loves opening and, of course, drinking good wine. "I'm
a Bordeaux guy more than anything," he says. "I really like Bordeaux
and California Cabs and Spanish wine. I'm not a real white wine guy. I
have a tendency to like the right bank of Bordeaux--Pomerol and
St.-Emilion. I really like Cheval Blanc, Figeac and Le Pin. That is,
if you can find Le Pin anywhere."
He also appreciates great white Burgundy, but finds the whole
region slightly overwhelming. He feels it's all too complicated with
its numerous appellations and producers. "My appreciation for wine is
a purely honest thing," he says. "The flavors of wine are great. A
nice dinner and a bottle of wine, you can't beat it.
"But wine doesn't really go with a cigar. You have to wait until
after dinner. You can't taste a wine with a cigar going. I went to a
couple of cigar dinners and I can't say that I'm the hugest fan. I
know this probably won't go over too well, but with a room full of
smoke, it's not the best way to enjoy wine, unless the room has great
ventilation. I have been to a few cigar dinners where there has been
only one open window, and you see some of those guys smoking three or
four cigars at a time. I just don't understand it."
Such restraint isn't one of Dillon's fortes, but he's mellowing
with age. Since he's been in the business for so long, some people
still think of him as the abrasive teenage actor.
He admits his early image as a rough and tough teenage idol has been
one of the most difficult things to shake in his career. "I think
sometimes when you're younger, your perceptions of what people think
of you are different," he says. "They have a harder time accepting
your transitions than you do. It's very easy to get pigeonholed and I
remember that was difficult to overcome. I'll always be a little
frustrated with being perceived as somebody who is just a heartthrob
instead of being an actor. People make references like that, and it's
just frustrating."
Nonetheless, people who know his work remain impressed. The image of
the bad-tempered teen idol is fading. Take, for example, the views of
influential syndicated movie critic Roger Ebert of the Chicago
Sun-Times. He wrote in last year's review of To Die For:
"Dillon, the former teen idol whose acting has always been underrated,
here turns in a sly comic performance as a man dazzled by beauty but
seduced by comfort." A few years before, Ebert called Dillon's lead
role in Drugstore Cowboy "one of the great recent American
movie performances."
Yes, Dillon would certainly prefer it if more people would remember
him for his acting ability and not as a star or celebrity. "I think
more in terms of the work," he says. "I don't think about being a
celebrity. I don't preoccupy myself too much with being famous. I
don't try to hold on to some kind of image. I remember sometimes
thinking people thought of me this way or that. But I did not want to
be considered a star. I always just wanted to be considered an
actor. That is what I do and that is what I pride myself on--my
work. That is what counts."
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