Bill Murray: Hollywood Comedy Royalty



(image via wral)

Let's face it: If you are of a certain age, Bill Murray is goddam comedy royalty. In his comedy days he projected -- equally -- his gritty lower middle class Chicago childohood, Second City, and a deceptively incisive intellect. In fine, everyone -- especially Jim Carrey -- wishes they could be Bill Murray. Few comedians, however, with the exception, arguably, of Tom Hanks (Who was never really a comedian-comedian), have evolved into fully articulated and Oscar-worthy leading men. The buffoonish Robin Williams is still evolving, and, quite frankly, we wish him the very best in his arduous journey towards comedy righteousness.

On Sunday Morning shootout, Jonathan Drayton -- the director of Fox Searchlight's breakout hit "Little Miss Sunshine" -- told of a tale in which he tried, and failed, to get Bill Murray to play "Frank," the Steve Carrell role:

Drayton: "(He and partner Valerie Faris) were at a wedding once, and (Bill Murray) was right there and ... (anguished silence) we just couldn't get it to him."

We understand. That's fucking Bill Murray. Tripper Harrison from Meatballs; Larry Durrell from Razor's Goddm Edge. Holy Fuck.



"... It just doesn't matter"

This, of course, reminds us of Lynn Hirschberg's NYTimes Mag piece about Sophia Coppolla, and her very own Murray panty-wetting moment:

"'Lost In Translation,' which slowly unspools the story of a middle-aged American actor on the downslope and a woman just out of college who meet when both are staying at the Park Hyatt in Tokyo, was written by Coppola specifically for Bill Murray. 'I always wanted to work with him,' Coppola said one afternoon in New York. She was sipping iced tea at Il Buco, in the East Village, which is not far from her Manhattan apartment.

"... ''Lost in Translation'' was easy to cast. Coppola right off wanted Johansson, who is only 18 but has been acting since she was 8, and Johansson said yes immediately. But Bill Murray, who was crucial to the success of ''Lost in Translation,'' was, as he always is, elusive. Coppola was friendly with Mitch Glazer, a screenwriter who is one of Murray's best friends. She showed him her 10-page treatment and asked for help. ''Sofia is amazing because she's such an artist, but she grew up in a family that gets things done,'' Glazer said. ''She knows how to be relentless. She's completely genuine, but she is as driven and tough as anyone I've met in Hollywood. And she wanted Bill. She had written it for him. When she was pursuing Bill, I talked to her more than I talked to my wife. She talked to me a thousand times. In that sweet way, but persistent. In more than 20 years of friendship, I never said anything was perfect for Bill, and this time, I did. But Bill is difficult. He wouldn't give anyone an answer.''

"Without Murray, Coppola knew that the movie wouldn't capture the mix of humor and sadness she was after. 'People said, 'You need to have a backup plan,' and I said, 'I'm not going to make the movie if Bill doesn't do it,' '' she recounted to me. ''Bill has an 800-number, and I left messages. This went on for five months. Stalking Bill became my life's work.''

"Wes Anderson was enlisted. 'I was lobbying for Sofia,' he recalled. Then, one day in mid-July last year, Murray, Glazer and his wife, the actress Kelly Lynch, were having lunch at Il Cantinori in New York. Glazer invited Coppola, who was in town, to join them. ''She was so adorable,'' Glazer recalled. 'And, like any man, Bill appreciates a worshipful audience. When I saw them together, I realized it was done -- he'd do the movie.'' The next night, Anderson joined Sofia and Bill at another restaurant. 'It was one of those patented Bill evenings. He was driving. He went through a red light, reversed the car and then ducked into this Japanese place that only he could see. By the time the sake came, I knew he would do the movie.'"