David Duchovny tells Emma Brockes about life beyond The X-Files
Tuesday June 6, 2000
There is a scene near the beginning of David Duchovny's new movie in which the
actor is seen applying a hairdryer to his trousers in the moments before an
important ceremony. He is goofing about on one foot while his wife, played by
Joely Richardson, looks on in an "isn't my husband adorable?" reverie and the
dog huffs and puffs on the floor between them. For those whose knowledge of
Duchovny derives solely from his role as agent Fox Mulder in the X-Files, a man
to whom the concepts of romance and comedy are the most alien he'll ever
encounter, it is an uncomfortable moment. The very act of smiling seems
undignified on the lips of an actor whose emotional range has come to be
characterised by various shades of the unamused.
Once over the initial shock, however, Return to Me is a surprisingly likeable
film. Written and directed by Bonnie Hunt, it is the story of a woman who
receives a heart transplant from the dead wife of the man she comes to fall in
love with. Duchovny is the widower, Minnie Driver the post-op sweetheart and,
if you can stomach the dodgy symbolism and the sentimental portrait of
Chicago's ethnic communities, it is a witty and old-fashioned fairy tale that
leaves you feeling well disposed towards them both. For Duchovny, it is a
chance to prove that he has more expressions in his repertoire than scepticism,
although he insists that's not why he did it. "I know I'm funny, I don't have
to go out and prove it. I don't understand why I would have to prove that I'm
funny. I do what I do and I'll do what's interesting to me. But the idea of
proving anything to anyone is just weird to me. I don't give a shit."
This is delivered deadpan, like a well-buried joke, although he doesn't appear
to be joking. While unfailingly courteous, his professional manner has the
unfortunate effect of hanging somewhere between arrogance and conceit. When we
return to the subject of him not having to prove himself, he mutters that it's
"bullshit", as if it were a line he has grown weary of. He retains the faintly
superior air of one whose inner life is beyond the reach of the people that
surround him.
Duchovny, who is 40 this year, was born in New York to a Scottish,
working-class mother and a father whose family originally came from Russia. He
was as American as the next kid, he says, but unlike many of his friends, was
able to perceive his culture with a certain amount of detached interest. "My
mother was definitely an outsider and not shy about speaking about that. I felt
like a New Yorker, but I knew there was another way of life."
It is a perspective he values. When Duchovny won a scholarship to a prestigious
prep school, he didn't establish himself as the loud kid or the show-off. He
had skill on the sports field and, up until the end of high school his ambition
was to become a professional athlete. But he was happier in the role of
observer and it' i something he worries that success is denying him. "As an
actor and as a writer, I like to watch. But people become watchful when they
come into contact with somebody famous. They don't act like themselves any
more. It's sad. I can't complain about it, but I kind of miss... it is what it
is."
His watchfulness did not translate into infatuation or groupie-dom or any of
the props of teenage identity crisis. The portrait Duchovny paints of his
teenage self is of a boy as measured in his emotions as he is now,
self-possessed, straightforward, so that you wonder where his private self is
or what it would take to shake him out of composure. "I kind of dreamed about
being a famous athlete; not wanting to be famous but wanting to be good enough
so that everybody knew who I was. But it wasn't fame for fame's sake. I didn't
know what fame was really. I didn't know anyone famous; I didn't know any
actors when I was growing up; I didn't understand what acting was. When I
watched television I didn't think, I wonder what they do when they go home. I
didn't want to read about them. I just watched TV. I never dreamed of shaking
anyone's hand. Even with sports heroes, I liked watching them, I loved them
from afar, but I didn't want to get to know them."
When the X-Files became popular, its creator, Chris Carter, wanted to be
photographed alongside the stars. Duchovny advised against it. "I just said,
you're so lucky, you're making money and you're creatively challenged, and
you're doing what you want to do. Don't let go of your anonymity. People think
that it's fun, but then there are repercussions."
When he left school, Duchovny won a place at Princeton, and later a place to
study for a masters degree in English literature at Yale, where he was taught
by Harold Bloom. ("I knew the work of Derrida and Paul de Man. It's like
reading surgical text books. I know how to read them.") He was a short way into
a PhD thesis on magic and technology in contemporary poetry and prose, when he
began acting to help fund his studies. At a friend's suggestion, he auditioned
for and won the lead role in an advert for Lowenbrau beer. An agent spotted him
and his career began.
Writing is still a major interest. After years of making the X-Files, Duchovny
was virtually on autopilot and revived his interest in the show by asking if he
could have a go at writing an episode and if it was any good, directing it. To
date, he has done two. His other passion, athletics, is something he still
draws on as a metaphor for the challenges in his career. Of acting, he has
said: "It is not thinking, it is feeling. It is athletic, in the sense that it
is instinctual. You can lose your self-consciousness, you become like an animal
without notions of the past or the future. And that feels good."
Minnie Driver is like a "good tennis partner", he says, always returning the
ball. "She is real quick and funny and game and she's real respectful. We got
on really well." Appearing on confrontational US talk shows is like revving up
for a football game: "At first, when I did Letterman, it was like sports, it
was terrifying and you'd come out of it and it was OK, it was a great
achievement."
Like a professional sportsman, articulating his personality is not a great
priority. Near the end of the interview, however, a flash of something more
interesting appears, calculated as a reward. "My fear was that this could be a
slushy movie," Duchovny says about Return to Me. "There was a lot of anxiety.
Even though I believed in it, it doesn't mean anything. It could still have
been a piece of shit. It wasn't like I knew all along that this was the right
tone. There were days when I thought, oh my god, I don't know whether what I'm
doing is right or wrong for this movie, and I just agonised." Then, just as
quickly, he is gone.
>David Duchovny tells Emma Brockes about life beyond The X-Files
>
>Tuesday June 6, 2000
>For Duchovny, it is a
>chance to prove that he has more expressions in his repertoire than
>scepticism,
>although he insists that's not why he did it. "I know I'm funny, I don't have
>to go out and prove it. I don't understand why I would have to prove that I'm
>funny. I do what I do and I'll do what's interesting to me. But the idea of
>proving anything to anyone is just weird to me. I don't give a shit."
This is my new favorite DD quote. THANK YOU AND AMEN!
I love this guy...