As a creative force behind such
iconic contributions to our pop culture as SCTV,
Animal House, Meatballs, Caddyshack, National Lampoon’s
Vacation, Stripes, Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day, and
Analyze This, Harold Ramis is a
writer/director/actor who has significantly influenced the
entertainment landscape for the past thirty years.
Given the timelessness of his creations -- who can
believe that Animal House is almost thirty
years old?! –- and the breadth and depth of artistic ground
that he has covered already, it is exciting to know that his
creative journey continues unabated. In fact, so high are
the expectations for his newest film, Ice Harvest,
that the studio has slated it for a prestigious Thanksgiving
release.
You are probably aware of his Hollywood reputation as
an intelligent, kind man. It may not surprise you that he
has a penchant for pithy mottos and quirky independent
films.
Yet when I telephoned him an his Chicago office, I
learned that, for someone who claims that, 'part of my
posture is to never be surprised,' Harold Ramis sure can
dish out some bolts from the blue...like, for example, he
began his illustrious career, thanks to some ukulele
lessons.
ITL: Is this a good time
to talk?
HR: It’s fine. I’m just
playing through my songbook.
ITL: Playing through
your songbook?
HR: I support a local
community organization. And, as an auction item, I am doing
two in-home concerts, playing my guitar and singing.
ITL: How wonderful. Do
you write your own songs?
HR: No!! There are
forty-four songs that I play and sing but it's like a time
capsule from when I started playing 'til now.
ITL: When did you start
playing?
HR: In like 1957.
ITL: Ah.
HR: Yeah.
ITL: When you're not
being a musician, do you see more yourself as a writer or
director or actor?
HR: Human being. I love
movies. As a kid, you don't see what goes into a film. You
just see performance. So I'm sure my first fantasies were
about being an actor, being the characters -- it was being
on screen. And then as I started performing -- I first
started performing music, actually. That's how I found that
I liked it and that I had the confidence to do it.
I was thirteen when I started singing in public and
playing music with friends. And I started choral singing in
high school and kept that up in college.
ITL: So when you were
thirteen, was that like a band situation?
HR: No. It was the folk
music era. A friend of mine performed in our -- they didn't
call it junior high school then -- middle school. He was [in
the] eighth grade and he performed in the talent show. He
was a year older than me. And he just killed. He sang
Birth of the Blues, which was a great song. And he
just knocked everybody out. He performed it with full energy
and it was really good. And I saw the attention he got for
it and how appealing it was to hear that applause rolling
over him. So he taught me to play. And I actually started
playing first on the ukulele. Then on four string guitar and
then six string guitar and then five-string banjo. But the
folk era was really getting rolling then and so he and I
performed folk songs. Then a third friend joined us. We
performed all through high school. So that was good.
Then I started doing skits and shows. Musical skits
and shows for social organizations in school. I took one
acting course in high school. I liked it. I realized I was
the guy who was instrumental in writing those shows and
telling other people what to do. So I still didn't have a
focused notion of what it was to be a writer or a director
but by the time I got to college, the age of the directors
began. '63 was a big year. Laurence of Arabia
came out…and David Lean helped people see how
important directors were. And the European filmmakers
started getting shown in the States. You know, Fellini
[and] all the great Italians…We stopped going to movies and
we started going to films. Bergman and Kurosawa
and Visconti and Bertolucci and all that. You
know, great films were being made. It was very exciting. And
suddenly, the idea of being a filmmaker now seemed possible.
Also, I had a good friend, Michael Shamberg,
who's a major film producer today and we went through
college together. We met in the first week of college. He,
partly 'cause of his upbringing, saw the world as much more
accessible than I did. He showed me, by example, that I
could get access.
ITL: Thankfully. Let’s
talk about your writing. In terms of writing solo or with
others, how do you see your creative process?
HR: I think it's
evolved. Although, I've changed in lots of ways, but not
really. I'm probably the same person I was at five or
thirteen or eighteen or twenty-one in my heart. I still have
the same kind of orientation to the world in terms of
philosophy and politics...I think people adopt philosophies
and spiritual values that reflect who they are already. So
I've just shored up my weak personality structure with
...information and ...philosophy. So I’ve become maybe more
who I am. Or at least, I've done some of the homework. I can
actually footnote my behaviour now.
ITL: External validation
through philosophy? Is that what you're saying?
HR: Well, it works for
me. It's helped me develop a more systematic understanding
of who I am, where I am in the world, why I do what I do and
what my goals and values are. And, like I say, maybe my
goals and values haven't changed -- or my way of working
hasn't changed -- but I understand it now.
I was kind of embarrassed by my own need to be on
stage. So I made that balance with the desire to make it
important in some way. And I don't mean by success but by
actually having something to say. Expressing my real values,
my core values, through my work. No matter how broad the
comedy was, I never wanted to violate my own belief system.
Which means you can't sell out. You can't do work you know
is corrupt or that isn't useful in terms of healing the
world somehow. Sounds pretentious but that is my actual
goal.
Someone asked the Hungarian director István Szabó why
he made films. He said, 'I make films to save the world.' I
was at an event where that was quoted and they were praising
independent films and real artists who don't, you know,
pander. Then I had to get up and speak. And I said, 'Well, I
pander to save the world.'
ITL: That would be a
great T-shirt.
HR: That's my creative
process. If it doesn't start with what's important when I'm
presented with an idea, my next question is 'why is it
important?' or 'how could it be made important?'
ITL: My last few
interviews have turned unexpectedly spiritual in nature and
that was certainly not my intention. But I'm actually
wondering if it's just becoming more prevalent now -- the
role or the influence of spirituality in entertainment
today. What do you think?
HR: Well, I think
there's a kind of fundamentalism that disguises itself as
spirituality. So I think people are imposing certain kinds
of orthodox values on all communications, which scares me.
But I don't think of it as truly spiritual because it seems
to be so repressive and it actually leads to conflict rather
than conflict resolution.
ITL: That sounds more
like the religious right -- red state-blue state kind of
approach, right? That kind of agenda?
HR: Yeah, right. I mean,
history is full of atrocities committed in the name of
religion. And I think now [religion] is being used to unify
politics. 'God wants democracy, therefore whatever we do in
the name of democracy is okay.' That’s a dangerous idea.
ITL: But in terms of
true spirituality and the values that you're talking about
-- stepping away from that kind of overt religious agenda
and looking at true spirituality and people operating out of
their value system -- there seems to be more and more of
that, no?
HR: I think there are
individuals who've always worked that way and that will
continue to do so and some who couldn't care less. We're a
widely diverse industry. And there's room for everybody. The
studios will always be ruled by the commercial necessity of
profit motive. And I don't blame them for that. One of my
slogans is, 'Nobody blames the Hershey company for making
chocolate.' It’s what they do. It's not the only food. It
may not be the best food. But people like it and it's fine.
ITL: It's a choice
that's available.
HR: Yeah. So the studios
kinda cover all the bases. They've also funded this
tremendous surge in independent film production and they all
have fine arts divisions now. They're smart people and many
of them have really good values. It's just they’re in the
circus. They have to put on a show and get a lot of people
to go see it to support the expense of it all.
ITL: Well speaking of
the circus, what's your favourite part of the filmmaking
process?
HR: I love the community
of it. Writing is very solitary. I like it when a project
becomes real and you start staffing up -- those first
meetings with the cinematographer or the production designer
with actors, [and] other writers. I've always loved the
collaborative process of writing as a group.
ITL: Are you writing
something with Owen Wilson?
HR: I'm writing
something for Owen Wilson. We have the same agent. He
introduced us. I really liked him. I had this notion -- it's
actually about spirituality, indirectly -- and I told it to
Owen and he thought it was very funny so he said, 'Yeah, go
ahead. I'd love to participate in that.' So we're supposed
to produce it together. [I need to] get the writing done.
Which means either I write it or I find some other sucker to
write it.
ITL: Some
spiritual-minded sucker.
HR: Yeah, right.
ITL: What do you like
least about the filmmaking process?
HR: Probably the
uncertainty -- the difficulty -- of getting work done
properly.
I must say, let me qualify all this. I've had the
easiest, most fun career I can imagine. People have
basically left me alone. Even when it looks like they’re
being intrusive -- studio executives or producers. I don't
mind the input. I really don't mind the input. I think it's
part of deal. And I think it's part of my obligation to
listen to everybody. Not do what they say, but hear them. I
kind of work with the 'one man one vote' principle.
Everyone's got an opinion and all opinions are equal,
whether it's the head of the studio or the person standing
by the lights. The electrician has an opinion and he's in
the audience just as a studio executive is. And it's not a
question of who knows more. It's all taste, anyway. So I
figure if I listen to everybody and I start seeing trends in
people's responses, it just points to things that I should
be looking at. If no-one likes the ending of my film, it's
pointless for me to argue that it works, you know?
I'm very collaborative in that sense. But sometimes,
when people don't agree and half the people tell you one
thing and half tell you something else -- or everyone has
completely different opinions, it can be confusing and then
you really have to take the responsibility for what happens
next -- knowing that you may be wrong or that it isn't
possible to please everybody.
ITL: Different subject:
How on earth did you end up on Canadian television?
HR: I was in Second City
in Chicago and I went away...to do the National
Lampoon in New York. And in the meantime, Andrew
Alexander had become a partner in the Second City.
He'd opened a Toronto company quite successfully. He was
then partnered with Bernie Sahlins who is one of the
founding owners of the Chicago Second City, so they
had some Canadian money. Investors wanted to do a TV show.
They invited us up there. The company was mixed. Some
Canadians, some Americans, some expatriates who were living
in Canada as landed immigrants -- but all Second City
people. And we started doing SCTV up there.
ITL: How long were you
in Canada?
HR: I would go up and
stay for several months and write a bunch of shows and then
we'd shoot them and then I'd go to L.A. or New York or
Chicago or wherever. I traveled around a lot [at that time].
ITL: Given your presence
on SCTV, many Canadians think you are Canadian.
HR: You know I've been
mistake for Canadian. And Lebanese.
ITL: And how do you feel
about that?
HR: I'd be proud to be
Canadian.
ITL: Speaking as a
Canadian, that's an excellent answer.
HR:Joe Flaherty
was a landed immigrant at the time. He's actually from
Pittsburgh. He loved it. He's still up there. He's up in
Toronto, still.
ITL: Yes. He, like you,
is a demi-god up there.
HR: He really loves it.
He took to it right away. Gilda Radner was a landed
immigrant. She was from Detroit. Andrea Martin, also,
a landed immigrant. She's from Portland, Maine.
ITL: You're just
shattering all these Canadian myths and icons.
HR: They didn't think
Gilda was Canadian did they?
ITL: No. But you and Joe
and Andrea we had claimed as our own. But let’s move on. In
terms of your career as a whole, looking back over the
various incarnations in which you've operated creatively,
what do you see as the real highlights?
HR: When I was doing
Al Franken’s movie, Stuart Saves His Family,
Stuart -- as part of his many twelve step mottos -- used to
say 'An attitude of gratitude and it ain't just a
platitude.' And I think I'm basking in gratitude, for the
most part. I just love that I get to do this. And maybe
because the outcome has been good on almost all the projects
I've done. I haven't created a lot of enemies. People
generally like what I do. Sometimes they love what I do. So
it ranges from 'like' to 'love' which is a kinda good space
to be in.
So I get so much positive feedback for the past, that
if I never did another thing, I'd feel like the culture has
already embraced a lot of things I've worked on -- and
almost enshrined them in the pop culture Hall of Fame.
ITL: That's got to be
extremely gratifying for someone who was drawn to this
business for external validation.
HR: It is. And the
danger is it makes me lazy. Like gee, maybe I don't have to
do anything else. But then of course I'd want to do more.
Like I have a movie waiting to come out. It's a seasonal
picture -- it's set on Christmas eve.
ITL: Is that Ice
Harvest?
HR: Yes. Ice
Harvest. The studio decided to wait 'til the Wed
before thanksgiving, November 23, to release the picture --
which is a nice date because it gives it a prominent
release. But I finished the movie last November. But it
tested so well, they didn't want to waste it in the Spring.
And I've always felt that as long as I have a picture
waiting to come out, then I'm actually, in a way, still
working. Like I don’t have to do anything. But this has been
for so long that it's killing me. I can't pretend anymore
that I'm employed.
Maybe because I worked really hard as a kid. I was
always employed. From the time I was twelve, I worked every
day after school and on weekends, just to earn money.
ITL: Doing what kinds of
things?
HR: First, I started as
a delivery boy with my father and as a stock boy in a
grocery store. Then when I was old enough to get a work
permit, I went to work for the Chicago Tribune as a
messenger, which was a lot of fun -- going downtown everyday
after school and working in that big building and being a
newspaper brat, you know? Running around the press room and
the city room and all that stuff. And then I worked for
Marshall Fields’ in a warehouse, during college. Worked
a few warehouse jobs ....
ITL: So a very strong
work ethic, very early on.
HR: Yeah, but it made me
wish that could not work. So I sort of equated success with
not having to work. So I've alternated between working
really hard and then doing nothing. I took four years off of
directing once. Between Club Paradise [which]
came out in '86 and then I didn't direct one again until Groundhog Day. In the meantime, I'd done other
things -- I'd produced and co-wrote a film with Rodney
[Dangerfield] and we did Ghostbusters 2 --
but I didn't direct a film for years in there. There were
things I played around but I couldn't get motivated 'til Groundhog Day.
ITL: Well,
Groundhog Day is such a special film.
HR: Yeah.
But I didn't mean to short shrift the spiritual question
because I can talk for days on that subject.
ITL: I didn't feel that
you had given it short shrift. May I ask you a quick
question about Chicago? Before when you were talking about a
perceived greater autonomy -- that you felt that people, for
the most part, left you alone. There were some notes
but...do you think that was, in part, because you are
physically located in Chicago?
HR: Oh no. That doesn't
stop them. They make me come to New York or L.A. for
meetings. They find you with their opinions. You get notes
faxed to you -- elaborate studio notes. It's a decentralized
business, anyway. I mean, the meetings may happen in L.A. or
New York but people make movies everywhere.
I don't think that’s the source of my autonomy. What
I realized during Caddyshack the big fear,
being a first time director, was being replaced. Just really
screwing up and they hate your dailies and they start giving
you lots of notes on the dailies and then they send
[someone] to stand over your shoulder all the time.
But it never happened, from my first film. They liked
the dailies. They said, 'Well, he seems to know what he's
doing. He knows what he wants and it's funny. Let's see it
when it's cut together.' And they left me alone. Or I had
such good producers that they took the brunt of it -- but
no, I don't think that was the case. I think they just liked
what was going on.
And even my films that haven't worked out -- that
haven't been wildly successful -- studios [haven't
interfered]. Everything happens for a reason. Everything
that gets shot is in there for a reason. You don't love
everything that's in the script but basically people sign
off on the script and the casting and then if they like your
dailies, they know you're doing the best possible job you
can. Especially if you're on time and on budget.
ITL: Well this all
sounds marvellous. Have there been any downsides or issues
or challenges over your career?
HR: Just myself. Most of
us are our own worst enemies and I've hurt myself in many
ways -- intemperance or walking over the edge, taking
chances I shouldn't have taken in my personal life.
But the career thing? I never complain. 'Cause one
thing -- don't think of it as work. I never thought of
it as work. I always say that for me to say 'I work hard' is
an insult to people who work hard. People who really work.
ITL: Let's talk about
the industry as a whole, right now. In terms of the film
industry, what are the trends or issues that you see?
HR: I think it's the
same for the creative person -- the person doing good work.
Finding your voice. For directors, getting that opportunity.
And it's increasingly competitive as film schools turn out
more and more graduates and more qualified graduates. Films
look better and better. My new motto is that, 'There are
more well-made films than good films.' There are so many
good cameramen and lighting people and editors and
designers. There's an abundance of talent but because
there's a finite number of projects that get made, just
cracking that system is the hard part for most people. How
do you get your script to the right people?
ITL: But what you're
talking about is production values -- as opposed to elements
of a good film, like story and character?
HR: A well-intentioned
film may be very literate -- or event based on a successful
literary work with real good actors -- just may not work. It
may fall flat. It may not be interesting. In criticism, you
can identify what when wrong. But everyone was well
intentioned, everyone was talented, they just didn't make a
good film for some reason.
There's a strange alchemy to it. Obviously, there's
the terrific luck of getting all the right elements together
and experiencing this great synergy and it makes a really
successful film. It's rare. As Peter Brooks once said
about the theatre, he said the reason the
theatre was dying was because there were so many bad plays.
He said maybe 10%
of the output in any art form is really, really good --
whether it's novels or paintings or movies or whatever. But
to find the 10%, they have to make 300 films a year and
release 300 films. If thirty of them are great, that's a
lot.
But [the challenge is] getting through that selection
process. More than 25,000 screenplays are written and
registered every year. So getting yours seen, connecting
with the right people who will do it respectfully,
faithfully, artistically -- it's just a big crap shoot.
ITL: Which filmmakers do
you admire these days?
HR: There are great
filmmakers who don't always make great films. There are
obscure filmmakers who may make one great film. So I like
the people who take chances, who have serious intent, even
if they're working in comedy. It'd be easier to name films
that I liked.
ITL: Fair enough. What
are some films that have impressed you?
HR: I was a fan of Sideways. House of Sand and Fog
just knocked me out. I liked The Pianist. I
mean, these were big, emotional experiences for me. I liked
American Splendor. A film called Lovely
and Amazing.
ITL: With Catherine
Keener?
HR: Yes. [Nicole
Holofcener] directed it. [It was] just really touching.
So my taste is all over the place.
I think commercial films are often just too predictable
to me to be that enjoyable. I can appreciate them on one
level but they're formulaic and generic. Or I'm kind of
overwhelmed by the packaging aspect of it. Someone bought a
title based on an old TV show that was popular and clearly
they're market-driven. They're not being made because
someone feels the need to re-make The Beverly
Hillbillies or The Dukes of Hazzard or
whatever. They get made because there's something to sell.
It's hard to take that seriously.
ITL: What feedback are
you getting on the DVD release of Stripes?
HR: People love that
movie. It's quoted it all the time.
ITL: And it still stands
up.
HR: I had to watch [Stripes
recently]. A local reporter asked if we could watch the new
DVD together with the added material and just tape what I
said about it.
It was kinda amazing to see -- [the film] doesn't
feel that dated. And certainly Bill was at the top of his
comedy ability. I like what he's doing now in his work. But
that was pure Bill.
ITL: It was a terrific
vehicle for him -- there was much synergy.
HR: There's a lot of
improv in it. Ivan trusts us to work loose. So even where
the script wasn't strong, he knew that we'd come up with
something. The same thing happened on Ghostbusters.
I always felt confident that Ivan knew how to exploit what
we did successfully.
ITL: In a good way.
Good, healthy, helpful exploitation.
HR: Yes.
ITL: Well as someone who
started in television, do you have any thoughts on the
trends or issues that you see in TV today?
HR: It sounds crazy to
me to say I'm a little appalled by reality television, but
I'm a little appalled. It occurred to me that people are
willingly humiliating themselves on television these days.
Setting themselves up for it. Almost auditioning for it --
to be humiliated in public.
ITL: They're competing
for the opportunity to humiliate themselves on national TV.
HR: I thought of this
euphemistically, that Andy Warhol said we'd all get
fifteen minutes of fame. Now it's fifteen minutes of shame.
I think it's because the culture has elevated celebrity
itself to almost an aristocracy. And it doesn't matter what
you're known for, just as long as you're known. Whether it's
for being indicted or for being successful at something or
being a slut or being a tremendous athlete. It's kind of
amazing that celebrity is enough, you know?
And partly, there's something paradoxical or
contradictory going on in society. We're more connected
than we've ever been. We have access to more people than
ever before, through the internet. People are text
messaging, e-mailing, and everyone's connected.... But
there's actually, in a way, less community than there used
to be. Less direct participation in things. And sometimes
that connection masquerades [as intimacy]. It's not intimacy
at all. It's just the illusion of intimacy.
So I think people think that because the media enshrines
celebrity, people think it's the answer to something.
And maybe it's also a response to feeling more and more
anonymous. More overwhelmed by anonymity, in some way. The
need to be known by someone. Self presentation becomes very
important. On the internet, you post your picture and a
description of who you are and you try to frame that
description so you sound attractive and appealing to people.
This is obviously a big, complicated paradigm that I'm not
articulating really well but this desire to be known, as if
it will make you feel good, seems to be driving a lot of it.
ITL: I'm wondering how
this is different from what we were talking about earlier --
that basic need for external validation and wanting people
to care about us and to like what we do.
HR: It embarrasses me
that I have that need. But my shrink says, 'Don't be so
embarrassed. Everyone has it. Just because you actually get
it, isn't wrong.' He says, 'Who wouldn't want to be
validated?'
ITL: So maybe in some
cases, people are more aware of that and maybe more candid
about it?
HR: Yeah but it's kinda
nice when it's actually based on a hierarchy of values or
meritocracy.
ITL: Or talent?
HR: Yeah, where people
have actually done something noteworthy to get known.
ITL: I'm just thinking,
in terms of the mechanism, it seems to based on that innate
need for approval.
HR: It's not even
approval. Some people will settle for your disapproval.
ITL: Oh, just to be
noticed. Just for attention.
HR: Or to be shocking or
outrageous. Even if the whole world is calling Paris
Hilton a talentless slut, does she care?
ITL: Not when she's
making six figures for walking into a party.
HR: That's her identity.
ITL: A parting question:
Any surprises or regrets over the years?
HR: I don't live too
much in regret. Although there's a line in Ice Harvest
where John Cusack says, 'I have no regrets. I don't
believe in them.' And Oliver Platt’s character says,
'Bullshit! Everyone's got regrets. Guys our age -- that's
all we've got.' But I'm not in the space. I don't dwell in
regret.
ITL: Any surprises?
HR: Part of my posture
is to never be surprised. Is to incorporate everything that
happens as if it's part of -- not the plan -- but the
unbroken string of cause and effect. You know, back to
spirituality. But I believe that we're part of an ongoing,
miraculous creation and that part of my posture in it al