“Now, who is next? Mr. Anderson, you are sitting there in agony. Come on Todd, step up, let’s put you out of your misery.”
Todd Anderson, the sensitive prep-schooler, played by Ethan Hawke, goes on to let the teacher know that he didn’t write a poem.
“Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn’t that right, Todd? Isn’t that your worst fear? Well, I think you’re wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal.”
Mr. John Keating, played by Robin Williams, scrolls on the chalkboard: “I sound my barbaric YAWP over the rooftops of the world.” He calls on Todd Anderson to stand in front of the class and demonstrate a barbaric Yawp. What follows is a vulnerable, moving and powerful scene as Todd Anderson, with his eyes closed, struggles at first, with hesitation and stammers, but goes on to fervently recite an impromptu poem inspired by a picture of Walt Whitman that is on the classroom wall.
When Todd opens his eyes again, the class is dead silent. Stunned by what they have just witnessed. An authentic moment that is reflective of overcoming one’s challenges and adversities. The class then begins to clap and bursts into cheer.
Mr. Keating turns to Todd and whispers to him: “Don’t you forget this.”
This scene, from Dead Poets Society, the 1989 coming-of-age film that has often been cited as one of the most inspirational films of all times, introduced 18-year-old Ethan Hawke to the world. From teaching us the words ‘Carpe Diem’ and “O Captain, My Captain” to its messages on staying true to yourself and standing up for others, Dead Poets Society came to define a generation. Although Hawke had two other movies under his belt by then - he got his start in the film Explorers alongside the late River Phoenix - he is quoted as saying that Dead Poets Society was the first time he felt he had ever acted. And it seems that Hawke, just like Todd Anderson, never forgot that feeling. Since that barbaric Yawp scene, Hawke went on to become a bonafide movie star, fronting iconic films such as the 1994 romance drama Reality Bites, alongside Winona Ryder, the Oscar-winning crime thriller Training Day, Boyhood, a film that took 12-years to make, and the Before romance trilogies: Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight.
Today, Hawke has amassed a body of work that spans decades; four-time Oscar-nominated, over 50 films under his belt, a writer, director and actor who has not only entertained us, but has evocatively pulled us into each role and each story. More than many other actors of his generation, Hawke has remained keenly aware of the pitfalls of fame as well as its pleasures, and it’s this gracious and conscious quality, matched by his mastery of his craft and on-screen charisma that continues to resonate with audiences. Undeniably a star, Hawke somehow gives off an air of simply being one of us; normal, down-to-earth, hard-working folk who are dedicated to family and friends. Listening to Hawke speak there is an edginess in his voice, at times an aggressiveness in his tone that may be born from a natural curiosity of life and an intelligence that allows him to construct his own theories and understanding.
At 47, the Austin native and dedicated father of four, continues to bring us great stories by way of the documentary film, The King (2018), the biopic Blaze (2018) and First Reformed (2018), often staying true to indie art over money makers, and pursuing the callings of his heart.
Hawke sat down with ROUTE recently and talked about his love of camping, road trips with his father and friends, America today and more.
As a young boy, your dad took you camping in New Mexico and Arizona. What are some of your memories from those road trips?
Those were some of the happiest times of my life. You know, my dad lived in Fort Worth, Texas, and he had this old Chevy Barracuda, a 1970s Chevy Barracuda. We would load it up with a tent and, you know, my Star Wars figures and stuff, and go drive around. We followed Geronimo’s trail for a while and we went to Kit Carson’s grave… we even got up to the Rockies and camped out in Rocky Mountain National Park. They were some of the happiest, simplest times of my life.
How old were you when you starting making those trips?
Six to ten. That’s a fun age to travel with young people. It’s so much fun, because you’re a kid, and you don’t need much. You can take care of yourself.
What did you enjoy most about those trips?
The exciting thing about those road trips for me was the wildness of… When you’re young, you see adults, they’re always going to work, there is this ritual to life. But then there’d be these moments in the summer where you’d break out of the ritual, and my father wasn’t going to work… It just felt so wild, we didn’t know where we were going to go the next day, there was such a freedom to it, that was so exciting to me… and seeing lands that you hadn’t seen before.
[When traveling] you really get a sense of why America is such a hard and difficult place to govern, because you know, we talk about all this divide, political divide in the country, but it’s a big country. It’s huge, with a lot of different attitudes and a lot of different needs that make a lot of sense depending on where you’re at. I think that it was a wonderful thing for me as a young person just to get to feel that expanse.
I remember driving through Four Corners, [New Mexico], and just the great emptiness of it; driving through Monument Valley in Arizona. We would watch some John Ford Western while driving through Monument Valley, then next you’re driving up through Ohio… our family were tenant farmers from Ohio and moved to Texas, my father’s generation, but most of the Hawkes are all from Ohio.
Your dad also took you to visit Indian reservations. Mainly Apache, right?
Those are the ones that I remember. The story of Geronimo made a big impact on me. It’s an amazing story. There’s something fascinating about such a hard life, and that he lived to be an old man. You know, he saw the whole world; I think he was almost 30 before he met his first white person, and then he lived long enough to ride in Teddy Roosevelt’s inaugural parade. And you know, of course he was basically a prisoner of war at the time, but he saw the whole world change, the whole world as he knew it. There’s something very Shakespearean about his story. He had this vision as a young person that he could never be killed by a man. Of course, he thought that this was a great blessing. He had apparently no fear of death. But there is something so tragic that he outlived everything that he loved.
Have you continued that tradition with your own kids? Have you taken them on any road trips?
Yeah you know, I did. I wrote a graphic novel called Indeh [Indeh: A Story of the Apache Wars]. When I was doing research, that’s when my obsession with Geronimo took full shape, and when my kids were about the right age we flew into Phoenix and drove to Santa Fe, and we went to one of the most beautiful places in the country that doesn’t get talked about - I found it just as staggering as the Grand Canyon - Cochise Stronghold, there at the bottom of the New Mexican/Arizona border; an unbelievable, unbelievable location, which is really... It’s no wonder that you couldn’t catch the Apache when they would disappear into there.
My oldest daughter just started a job on Stranger Things, so I just drove her down to Atlanta. We have a lot of fun throughout my life driving around… I don’t know why it is that we all like it so much, but it is enjoyable.
Do you have any other places in particular that really stand out to you?
You know, I love El Paso. El Paso is wild, you know! There is a rawness and a wildness to that part of the country that still exists. It’s exciting to be near… You know, I’ve shot a bunch of Westerns now, so I’ve gotten to go down to Del Rio and all those border towns. They are so interesting. But Santa Fe to me stands out, one of the most, I don’t know why, but there is an energy and a feeling to that place. Many people have written about it, but it’s a wonderful place to be.
Have you ever stayed at the La Fonda in Santa Fe?
Yep, I sure have! I love it there. It is so beautiful. [Santa Fe] just feels good, it’s mysterious, but I have always just felt right there.
Would you ever consider moving to and living in a place like Santa Fe?
My wife and I talk about it when the kids grow up, you know? We’ve got a ton of kids in school. I have four kids now, and it kind of keeps us rooted here in New York. But the thing I love most about my job as an actor is that it takes me all… like, I have been to Africa and I’ve shot in Paris, and I’ve been to China and Japan and all over the United States. So, I get to move around and see places, and not just see them like a tourist, often I get to work there, which is a different way of experiencing a place. But you know, if I did ever leave, the place I’d dream of going [to] is New Mexico… starting a little theater company there or joining one.
With all of your road travel, have you ever driven all of Route 66?
I am pretty sure I’ve touched almost every aspect of it at least once. When I was 21, probably the foundation of my artistic thought was that I would turn 21 and my two closest friends… we were dreaming of starting a theater company, which we went on to do.
We loaded up a car and we drove from New York to San Francisco and then down to L.A. and then back across again. We took about six weeks. We meandered the country, rode a lot of Route 66. It’s all kind of a blur now: I was 21 and all we did is talk about girls and plays and movies. These were two smart young men and we all knew different things and everybody… it was back in the days of mix tapes and stuff, and we would rotate who was in charge of what we were listening to and we’d listen to audiobooks and we’d teach each other the history of rock n roll. One person would be a Neil Young fan and another person would be a, you know, Bob Dylan fan… another person would be a Willie Nelson, fan or you know… We read Beckett… We had a ball.
The thing about driving around is that it’s a strange freedom where you don’t need to be anywhere, and you can let your thoughts just move.
Do you miss that freedom to just be able to pick up and go?
I really do, yeah. But you know, it’s wildly outweighed by the joy I get from parenting these four children. One of the tricks as I get older is trying to do fun things with them, you know? I mean, we’re going to camp up from New York to Nova Scotia this summer; that will be fun. But you know, my wife now has a schedule to it all the time, places I need to be all the time, at a certain time. It’s a luxury tax, I call it.
There seems to be a resurgence in film and television that is focused on the Wild West, and specifically, the expansion West. What do you think is pulling people back to that era?
Well, first of all, we are learning more and more about cultural identity, and I think we’re having more and more respect for our history and probably less guilt that allows us to look at it and hear native stories. You know, it’s a great tragedy. In the 50s, all those stories were so whitewashed, they weren’t really telling the truth about them, and then, as they started to tell the truth about them, nobody wanted to hear it, because it was so painful. But now, there is so much progress being made, in small steps, with people being able to listen to each other and understand our own national history. It’s unavoidable. It’s a hard thing for people to think about, but it’s just unavoidable that [in] history, there were great crimes… The art in movies, in stories, is to make sense out of our lives, and look to our future. I think it’s the great value.
In a 2004 interview, you spoke about trying to read at least three hours a day. I don’t know if you remember when that was a goal, but where are you at now? Do you find the space to devote that much time?
It’s so heartbreaking, it’s so heartbreaking to be reminded of that, you know? I mean, I read a lot in my 20s, and now my 40s have been less kind to my reading. The good news is that I’ve been able to do so many projects that I love, you know, projects like Blaze and projects like First Reformed, and over the last few years, you know, Maudie and The Magnificent Seven, and so many jobs doing the kind of work that I really, really enjoy.
When I was younger, I was struggling to enjoy my work and I really, honestly, you know, I didn’t graduate college, so I felt a lot of pressure internally that I wasn’t as intelligent as everybody else was, or I wasn’t as well-educated as everybody else, you know? Reading is a great way of, you can give yourself an education if you read these books. It might not be as valuable as having some fancy teacher talk to you about them, but you can read them, and you can read about them. It’s a really great way to learn. So, I was doing that a lot. Right now, I don’t give my children the time that I want to, so my reading has taken a real blow, but it’s something that I really hope to change.
Being a father of four makes life a lot more interesting, but challenging.
Sure! It’s like a nuclear bomb goes off in your day. There are always two places you are supposed to be.
In today’s climate, as an actor, do you feel pressure to publicly take a political position on issues?
Well, it’s an interesting topic, because you know, actors are citizens, and we are just citizens like everybody else. The only difference is that the press is kind of interested in what actors have to say, and most citizens have no voice at all. So, I think it’s kind of wonderful when actors speak out, because I think that people should speak out, and speak freely. I think that our culture is only as good as our willingness to share and communicate, and our country is extremely big.
I’ve always been in a unique position I feel, because my mother is a yellow dog Democrat and my father is a Republican. You know, my whole life I’ve been raised and taught that there are good Americans on both sides of the aisle, and that each has a very important role to play for the development of our country. It’s been really upsetting for me, I would say, some time in the last 20 years, the divide… and maybe it really has been fanned, the flames have been fanned by the Internet, I don’t know, but I have just watched the divide get deeper and deeper and get more and more tribal, and less and less ideologically based. My brother and I have probably voted differently on every election, but if we talk about the issues, we can have a real substantive conversation and agree on a ton. You know, so often we get… I think, we as a community, people get… you either have to be on one team or the other, and I think that’s horrible. When I was a kid I’d get to listen to Tip O’Neill speak at the House and talk about what a great man Ronald Reagan was. You’d hear George H. Bush [sic] talk about what a fine Christian Jimmy Carter was. What a great father and husband he was, and you didn’t hear all of this hatred of the other that you hear now. I remember the Berlin wall, [coming down] and how proud everybody was. That wasn’t a win for the Republican Party, that was a win for America, you know, and for the values on which we stand. I get confused by all the tribalism I see now. I think it’s very often mistaken as politics, but really it’s just people rooting for a sports team.
One of your new projects is the story of legendary singer songwriter Blaze Foley. How did you discover Foley’s music, and how did you learn about his story given that he wasn’t really well-known?
Well, he was barely known at all. Part of what interested me is that for years, you know, studying movies… musical biopics are always about somebody who is famous, and the great majority of musicians that I’ve met are extremely hard-working, but never encounter fame at all. In fact, they’re met with complete indifference most of the time. I wanted to make a story about that: about living a life from the arts without any of the superficial accolades that can come along with success.
I think, because Dead Poets Society came out when I was younger and created so much opportunity for me, that I’ve always had a residue guilt and admiration for people that have worked as hard as I have, and without the ease and the grease that has accompanied my life.
Were you a fan of Blaze’s music? His style of music is defined as outlaw country? What is the difference between outlaw and regular country music?
It’s probably my favorite kind of music.
Townes Van Zandt is the great hero, the great poet laureate of country music, you know… Outlaw country as a way to differentiate itself from pop country. You could make a case that Bob Dylan is outlaw country. You know, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, those guys are serious lyricists and serious musicians who work in country music, as opposed to the bubble gum country that you hear, and so outlaw, I think, is just a... and you know, it was defined by people who weren’t trying to sell records, they were trying to tell truth in the same way that all the best music aspires for, you know, they are trying to tell the truth of a rural experience… and Blaze was running in those circles. Blaze and Townes were as famous as… well Blaze is hardly known at all. Townes is known a little bit because he wrote songs that all those famous guys played; Willie, and Blaze and Townes are good friends. Willie covered Blaze and Merle covered him, John Prine covered him, but he himself was too self-destructive to ever find his own career.
Foley’s music was very much a part of the 1980s scene in Austin Texas. You spent your first ten years in Austin. Do you feel as though the film was able to capture the spirit of the city in the movie?
I don’t know… I think that for all of us, our childhood makes a big impact on our psyche… the cars we first see as kids are the cars we love the most, the music we first hear, you know… My first concert was Willie Nelson’s Fourth of July picnic 1976. So, that makes a huge impression on us, and I think that you can’t ever shake those early… they’re profound how they shape our psychology. I tried to capture that. I hope we did. I know we tried to capture the ethos and spirit of it. We made the movie in the kind of renegade style of the 70s, just meaning it was made very cheaply and on the fly. It felt incredibly fun and dangerous to be making a movie that doesn’t star anybody you’ve ever heard of. It was important to me, since Blaze was unknown, that you needed to discover the actor, that it needed to be a symbiotic experience where it’s like you’re discovering Blaze.
So, it couldn’t be an actor you have already heard of, that was the fun. I cast musicians. I cast Ben Dicky, this musician from Arkansas that I loved for the last 10 years, and he is very much in the same spirit of Blaze, in that he’s kind of been met with indifference from the record business… the business side of selling music has not embraced him, and he’s just such a huge talent. And then I got Charlie Sexton who was one of the great guitarists of my generation to play Townes, and it’s kind of a thrill to have these real musicians, that way we can kind of guarantee the authenticity of the music.
