Burt Reynolds On Toupees, Trump, and Why He’d Never Work with Paul Thomas Anderson Again

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Photo: Richard Young/Rex

Nearly a generation has passed since Burt Reynolds's last movie of note: Boogie Nights, the 1997 Paul Thomas Anderson masterpiece in which Reynolds played, with disquieting authenticity, the porn titan Jack Horner. It's easy to believe the real Reynolds is somewhere in that character (which won him a Golden Globe), especially when you go back one more generation and remember the schticky, toupee'd boob he perfected in the late-70s and early-80s: Smokey and the Bandit, Cannonball Run, Stroker Ace, Sharky's Machine. (Reynolds cemented his image as a kind of high-redneck Lothario when he married Loni Anderson in 1988, then lost a shit-ton of money in their divorce five years later.) What's too easily forgotten is that there was a time (1978 to 1982), when Reynolds was the number-one box-office star in America—and anchoring landmark films that are not just classics of the male-experience (The Longest Yard, Semi-Tough), but also on the National Film Registry (Deliverance).

These days, the seventy-nine-year-old Reynolds spends his days down in his native Florida, in the town of Jupiter. He has a tight circle of friends and meets them regularly at a small cafe. Sometimes he goes fishing with his local pastor, asks him about what lies ahead. And recently, Reynolds has been talking about his new memoir, But Enough About Me, which is, of course, mostly about him.


In your book, you talk about being an asshole. And you have said that, in a way, this book is something of an attempt to make up for having been an asshole at certain points in your life, and with certain people. So my question is: Why are we men so good at being assholes?
It's God's fault. [laughs] We just do what we are programmed to do. But if I knew why, life would be easier. I'm not sure why I was an asshole. I just hope I can fix some of it.

How do you define an asshole?
Someone who can't think about anything or anyone but themselves. You see it most, of course, in Hollywood. People who can't talk about anything but their next picture. Or their women. Or their conquests of women. Hollywood, of course, has a preponderance of assholes. More famous people than not are assholes.

You also write in the book about being a survivor—and about how, right now, your most challenging re-invention of yourself is as a survivor. Tell me about that.
This past year has really been a humbling for me. I think about the generation of people we've lost this year. It's been humbling. And I'm not stupid enough to not know that I'm on the list. I can't make up for all the asshole behavior. I'm just trying desperately to hang on to my true friends. Like Jon Voight. We laugh all the time at how stupid we are.

When you lay in bed at night and think about the people in your life you've lost, who do you miss most?
Dinah (Shore). No question. I miss her a lot.

Tell me what you miss.
Her honesty. Her ability to tell you not to be affected by the bullshit of life and of the business. She was the epitome of class.

What did you learn from her?
How she treated people. She was kind to everyone. And she never let something nag at her or bother her or drag her down.

In your book, you talk a lot about what a mistake it was to marry Loni Anderson. Most men, it seems, at one point in their life, date someone who is "crazy." And some guys don't just date the crazy, they marry the crazy. So, why is it men often times can't see the crazy until it is too late?
Well, crazies are the sexiest. They also have an ability to be really smart. They come after you and give you a "shit or get off the pot" ultimatum. And of course you don't want to lose them because they are so full of life. Or so it seems. At some point, you hear the voice telling you to run.

So why do we as men too often ignore the voice telling us to run — until it is too late?

Because it is the most logical voice. And you are, at that point, not in love with logic. You are in love with beauty. You are blinded. We forget the ocean is beautiful and deep and vast. But it can change on you in a flash and drown you. I mean, I knew that I was making a mistake [with Anderson] the day I walked down the aisle at the church. I'll never forget: I looked at my mother in the pew, and she was just shaking her head.

She was shaking her head as in "No"?
Of course she was. She knew.

You've made no secret of wearing toupees. When you made Deliverance** , did you have a stunt toupee?**
That was all me! That was my real hair. It wasn't much. But it was me. You know, if I had it to do over again, I would do it natural. Not wear a toupee. But I ended up seeing this guy William Shatner sent me to. Edward Katz. He's a genius at what he does. Best guy in the business.

Why?
Because his pieces are so hard to spot. And he listens. He gets it. And he tells you what's best. Most guys with toupees overcompensate. They want too much hair. They end up piling it high, looking like a weird flower. But if someone offered me a movie now—and I'm still waiting for one—I'd go back to my natural look. With whatever I have left up there.

Let's talk about roles. In the book you talk about a lot of the roles you passed up when you were at the top: Han Solo, Michael Corleone, Rocky Balboa. The Bruce Willis part in Die Hard** ; the Jack Nicholson part in **** One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest ; Richard Gere's part in Pretty Woman. Is there a role you've seen in the past few years that you wish you've had, that you wish you'd been offered?**
I don't want to say because then it's like I'm saying they weren't good.

I'm not asking that. I'm talking about the role itself. Like playing Hamlet. Is there a character that has appealed to you in the past few years? Or is there a director you'd like to work with?
Peter Bogdanovich. But the trouble with Peter is he's brilliant with someone else's writing. Not his own writing. I'm not sure what he's up to now. And I'd like to work with Clint again. And Angelina Jolie. I think she's a great director. She has what her father has. Talent. And charisma. She always has. I remember even when she was ten she was already provocative. I said to Jon one day, "You have big problems." He asked what I was talking about. I said, "She's going to be unbelievably beautiful when she grows up and men are going to fall hard for her." He just laughed. She was stunning even as a girl.

Would you want to work again with Paul Thomas Anderson?
I don't think so. Personality-wise, we didn't fit.

How so?
I think mostly because he was young and full of himself. Every shot we did, it was like the first time [that shot had ever been done]. I remember the first shot we did in Boogie Nights, where I drive the car to Grauman's Theater. After he said, "Isn't that amazing?" And I named five pictures that had the same kind of shot. It wasn't original. But if you have to steal, steal from the best.

Tell me about Donald Trump. You write about him in the book in relation to the USFL, when he was owner of the New Jersey Generals and you were part owner of the Tampa Bay Bandits.
I like him. He's a good guy. I just don't know how he'd deal with Russia and other countries. To be successful in business you have to be ruthless. But when you are running a country and dealing with other countries, ruthlessness doesn't work all the time.