question:

“What do you want out of your

Hollywood experience?”

john grisham:

“What Hollywood experience?

I’m not making these movies.

I wrote the novels; I took the money;

and, I kissed them good-bye.

I’ve never been to Hollywood.

And I have no plans to go.”

_Here lately, rumors concerning John Grisham and Hollywood have been breeding prolifically as summer mosquitoes. Something about Grisham buying out Universal Pictures, or starting a restaurant in New York—right next door to De Niro’s Tribeca Grill—teaching De Niro a good lesson about barbecue. Then there’s the one about Grisham challenging Kevin Kline to a pistol duel because he and Pheobe Cates were planning to return to Oxford to film their own version of As I Lay Dying. Cates was to write an original screenplay in which Addie Bundren actually rises from the pine box before poor Cash (in Faulkner’s novel “a good carpenter”) can finish it, symbolizing, according to Cates, the growing power of the women’s movement. When Grisham heard that, he’d had enough, or so the story goes.

Of course, these are mere rumors. What follows is the real deal, a genuine Grisham interview conducted on the slopes of Gstaad, Switzerland, with William F. Buckley, Jr. and John Kenneth Galbraith looking on enviously. Also, please note that this is Part One. Part Two of the interview will follow the release of the three movies.

The Oxford American: We all know that your book The Firm was sold to Hollywood for something like $600,000 before it had even found a publisher. Did you find it challenging to write The Pelican Brief and The Client without thinking about how your books would play as movies?

John Grisham: No. I wrote all four books the same way. The style has not varied. The Firm and A Time to Kill were written with remote dreams of publication—not movies. And they are lean, fast and episodic; just like The Pelican Brief and The Client.

Of course, I know when I write a book now it will be passed around the studios, but the style has not changed.

OA: Your books are noted for containing very small amounts of sex and violence. Are you worried at all that the movie versions of your books are going to, in the inevitable Hollywood fashion, glamourize sex and violence?

JG: I do worry about the sex and violence, and this is a very good reason I keep my distance from the filmmaking.

OA: A Time to Kill begins with a very shocking and graphic rape. Some white men rape and murder a very young black girl. We think you handled this powerful material responsibly. But Hollywood would not necessarily handle such a scene with tact and reason. In fact, Hollywood is infamous for the opposite approach. Does this have anything to do with why you are holding on to A Time to Kill, why Hollywood doesn’t have the rights to it yet? What is Hollywood going to have to promise to get you to allow them to turn A Time to Kill into a movie?

JG: There are three conditions to all discussions about A Time to Kill: One, I will retain complete and total approval of the script; two, I dictate where it will be filmed (probably Oxford); and, three, I retain the right to veto any miscasting.

With these controls in hand, the first chapter can be filmed with taste and compassion.

But, for right now, the property is not on the market.

OA: What would it take for you to write the script of the movie version of one of your next books?

JG: I have no interest in writing scripts or making movies. Maybe five or ten years from now.

Scriptwriting is frustrating because once the screenplay is finished, the writer is often shoved out and a dozen people can alter his work.

Not so with a novel. Not a single word can be changed unless it’s done so by me.

OA: Are you excited about any one of the three movies more than the others?

JG: Perhaps The Firm. There’s always something special about the first.

OA: When the movies are ready for viewing are you going to take your children to see them?

JG: It depends on the ratings. Reneé and I will probably see them first, then decide about the kids.

OA: There’s just got to be an actor or actress that you’d love to see in a Grisham movie.

JG: Yeah, as a matter of fact I’d love to see Jason Robards play Lucien Wilbanks in A Time to Kill. He’d be great with a beard, long hair, a glass of bourbon in hand, rocking on the front porch and cussing at the world.

OA: From our experience of watching two movies filmed here in Oxford we noticed that a disproportionate amount of people involved in the productions were very arrogant. Then the two Oxford movies turned out to be horrible! Have you noticed anything similar in your dealings with Hollywood?

JG: So far, just the opposite. I met most of the cast and crew of The Firm, and they were laid-back and very friendly. They fell in love with Memphis and the South, and hated to leave.

OA: How do Hollywood folk try to entice you to let them have a piece of your books? It is purely a financial teasing or are other things involved?

JG: I have this agent in New York who’s known to be rather aggressive and protective. The people in Hollywood are afraid of him. They don’t contact me unless they first contact him, and he always tells them to stay away from Oxford.

There are no enticements. The movie deals are handled at a high level and under terms negotiated by my agent. I don’t get involved until the last moment.

OA: Rumor had it that when The Client went up for auction in Hollywood you were a bit concerned that your agent was asking too much for it. Well of course that price was quickly met and topped. What did you learn from that?

JG: I learned what I already knew—I have a very good agent.

OA: It was relayed to us that Michelle Pfeiffer, Barbra Streisand, and Robert De Niro all expressed interest in The Client. What exactly does “expressed interest” mean?

JG: I have no idea. Some of the above wanted to visit Oxford, but I was behind on my bush hogging and couldn’t meet with them.

Again, it’s all handled through my agent in New York.

OA: The rumor continues that your agent had to tell Ms. Pfeiffer, who was interested in playing the role of Reggie, the fiftyish lawyer in The Client, that she was too young for the role. Were you not at all tempted to erase all references to Reggie’s age in the book and pencil in Pfeiffer’s real age?

JG: Just a rumor. And, no, I would not perform any more revisions on the book, not even for Michelle Pfeiffer.

OA: What other glamourous and talented movie stars have you been in communication with?

JG: Wilford Brimley, the oatmeal man. Though not exactly glamourous, he’s a wonderful guy who gave us a quarterhorse from his ranch in Utah. He plays DeVasher in The Firm.

OA: Do you get requests from people asking you to move a muscle and get them a role in one of the movies?

JG: Yes. In fact, both of my children fully expect to be in the movie of The Client. The director has agreed to use them as extras.

OA: What has been your biggest disappointment with Hollywood?

JG: None yet. I haven’t seen the movies. Ask me a year from now.

OA: Have you ever walked out of a movie? Which one?

JG: I walk out of most movies. In fact, I’ve walked out of so many that I can’t remember them all.

Let’s face it—most movies are awful. I rent them at the video store for two dollars so I can eject them when I want, and flip to CNN.

OA: Is there anything to be learned from William Faulkner’s experiences in Hollywood?

JG: Yeah. Stay away from the place. Faulkner did not go there by choice.

OA: You must certainly know some dirt about Hollywood now. Obviously The Oxford American is not at all interested in this kind of stuff. But maybe a few of our more simple readers are. Would you care to shovel some dirt our way?

JG: What is this? The National Enquirer? I’m amazed to learn that you have “simple readers.”

No dirt yet. Ask me a year from now.

OA: You have now clearly entered the realm of superstardom (how’s the weather up there?). Your incredible popularity with readers, and now Hollywood, is just the kind of thing that gets you a photo spread and ten thousand words of coverage in Newsweek and onto the set of “The Today Show.” Do you regret that people must now approach you, in many of your public moments, as anything but just a regular guy?

JG: It’s not a hassle, yet. And it must be kept in perspective. I’m a writer in a country that doesn’t read.

For now, it’s easy being a regular guy and living a normal life. Reneé and I have not been compelled to become something we’re not.

OA: Rumors suggest that the movie-makers have changed the ending of The Firm so that it differs from how the book ended. Are you happy with that?

JG: I have not read the script, but I’ve been told the ending is much different. I hope it works.

OA: Joel Schumacher is signed to direct The Client. His latest film, Falling Down with Michael Douglas, is maybe a prime example of how Hollywood is obsessed with graphic and unnecessary violence. Now, John, we realize it would be unfair to judge the direction of The Client before it is filmed but doesn’t this Schumacher fellow worry you just a bit?

JG: All Hollywood directors worry me. But, Joel Schumacher has assured me he intends to faithfully adapt the novel. Let’s see what he does.

OA: Your readers are very much taken by your willingness to autograph copies of your books. Obviously you don’t have to do this anymore. Your books will still sell, signed or not. You signed four thousand books one recent weekend. When are you going to curtail all this?

JG: When A Time to Kill was published in 1989, I would go to bookstores for signings and hope a dozen people would show up. Often, they did not.

I still remember those days, and I am at once gratified and flattered by the crowds now.

There are a handful of bookstores that were good to me in the early days, and I’ll never get too big to forget my friends.

OA: What was the most exhilarating moment in your writing career?

JG: It happened in April 1988, when my agent called to tell me the unexpected news that A Time To Kill would be published. It was a magic moment. I still recall it almost everyday.

OA: Do you foresee a future for yourself when you aren’t writing books? After all you have already gone through a lot of careers: lawyer, athlete, politician, pilot, musician, etc.

JG: Wait a minute. I hate to fly, and I refuse to sing. My baseball career was over at the age of fourteen, though I pressed on for five more years.

Yeah, I get bored easy, but I’m not thinking about the next career. I’ll do a book a year for the next four, then take a break, catch up on the bush hogging, feed the livestock. You know, tend the farm.

OA: Graham Greene, although a Christian, apparently fell prey to bizarre superstitions. Evelyn Waugh noticed that he would go out to the street each morning and examine passing automobiles until he observed the combination 777 on a license plate, at which point he would return to his flat and begin to write. Is there a similar Grisham ritual?

JG: Graham was known to hit the bottle pretty hard. Wasn’t he struck by a car once or twice? No, I don’t get into trances or meditate in the dark to get into the mood to write. I do go for long walks in the woods, with a good cigar, and my dog, Bo. Nothing weird, though. Sorry.

OA: You’ve started writing another book already. In fact, you started on it shortly after you sent The Client to your publisher. One would think you’d want a little break. Is this a personal compulsion or is your contract strict?

JG: The contract is as flexible as I want it to be. (Again, my agent.) The words and ideas are coming fast, and for now a book a year is easy.

I have to do something with my time. Little League baseball runs for only three months.

OA: This Little League business is getting out of hand, John. The truth is you are not a popular coach. One of your players, Scooter MacDugan, age nine, told us that you are a “tyrant before whom Stein- brenner pales.” Is there any substance to the rumor that you are considering signing some Taiwanese players?

JG: Cubans, not Taiwanese. And that little MacDugan twerp is still sore because I slugged his agent the day after negotiations broke down. The kid has no future, no class.

OA: The reviews we’ve seen for The Client have been justly favorable. Do you learn from reviews? Can a negative review be helpful?

JG: I’m learning to ignore reviews, both good and bad. At this point they have no impact on sales.

OA: You have in a certain sense behaved as an actor in your old roles of lawyer and politician. Does the notion of a cameo tempt you? Have you been offered one? (We think you’d make a good thug.)

JG: Absolutely not! I’d hate to screw up a good movie. Besides, shooting a movie is the most boring thing in the world.

OA: When you’re rolling, you’re rolling. You are related to Bill Clinton we now learn. Is it true that, as kids, you used to call him “Stinky” and that he, in return, used to beat you up? Did you vote for him?

JG: Never met him until the campaign. He was born in Arkansas. I was born in Arkansas. His grandfather was Lem Grisham, so we’re probably 18th cousins. Don’t tell anyone, though, until the economy turns around.

Yes, I voted for him. The Clinton/Gore stickers are still on my truck.

OA: What bad movie do you not want people to know you loved? Ok, to put it another way, please address the Benji rumors.

JG: Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. My kids turned me on to it, and I’ve watched it a dozen times. It’s really not a bad movie.

Not that bad.

OA: What are the best examples of novels turned into movies that you’ve seen?

JG: To Kill a Mockingbird, Three Days of the Condor, Sophie’s Choice, The Silence of the Lambs, The Prince of Tides. *

OA: Do you feel any desire or pressure to try to write in a different genre?

JG: No. I’m very comfortable where I am.

OA: Do you like lawyers or producers more?

JG: Lawyers. I am one, and I understand them. No one understands producers.

OA: What is your favorite color?

JG: Gray. I’m a lawyer, remember.

*editor’s note: apparently Pee Wee’s Big Adventure was not based on a novel.