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This is Fresh Air.
I'm TV critic David Bianculli.
Actor Robert Redford, founder of the Sundance Film Institute and the Sundance Film Festival, died Tuesday at age 89.
He never won an Oscar for his acting, but he did win one as a director for the 1980 film Ordinary People and was awarded an honorary Oscar for his influential work with Sundance.
He also was a recipient of the Kennedy Center Honors in 2005, and Barack Obama awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2016.
It was as an actor, though, that Robert Redford made his most indelible mark of all.
So many of his roles ended up being classic, even iconic.
Butch Cassidy in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Roy Hobbs in The Natural Bob Woodward in All the President's Men.
And the list doesn't stop there.
We devote today's Fresh Air to the memory of Robert Redford by listening back to two of Terry's interviews with him.
And we begin with this appreciation.
Robert Redford was born in Santa Monica in 1936.
As a young man he excelled at athletics, was interested in drawing and art and, after a trip around Europe, returned to America and ended up shifting to the dramatic arts, where his good looks and blossoming talent led to many small roles on stage and on TV.
In 1960 he made his first television appearance on an episode of Maverick and also clocked guest shots on such series as Perry Mason, Naked City, Route 66 and Alfred Hitchcock's anthology shows.
In 1962 he starred in an episode of Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone, and Redford gave one of the best performances of his early career.
The episode was called Nothing in the Dark and was about an elderly woman who had barricaded herself in her isolated home, afraid that death was coming to take her.
A policeman, played by Redford, is shot outside her door.
She lets him in and tends to him and eventually she realizes that her fears were justified and that death has indeed come to call.
Gladys Cooper plays the old woman.
Am I really so bad?
Am I really so frightening?
You've talked to me.
You've confided in me.
Have I tried to hurt you?
It isn't me you're afraid of.
You understand me.
What you're afraid of is the unknown.
Don't.
Don't be afraid.
But I am afraid.
The running's over.
It's time to rest.
Give me your hand.
I don't want to die.
Trust me.
No.
No.
Mother.
Give me your hand.
Robert Redford tasted major success on Broadway in 1960 starring in Neil Simon's Barefoot in the Park, a comedy he returned to on film opposite Jane Fonda in 1967.
But the movie that made him a star was 1969's Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the fact-based story of two bank robbers.
Paul Newman was Butch, Redford was Sundance, and their on-screen chemistry was unsurpassed.
Catherine Ross from The Graduate played Sundance's girlfriend, Etta Place.
And in this scene, the three of them have just arrived in Bolivia, which was Butch's plan to evade capture from a relentless posse.
The train has dropped them off in a desolate barnyard and Butch is trying to look on the bright side.
But Sundance, wading deep into the animals, is furious.
Well, you know, it could be worse.
Get a lot more for your money in Bolivia.
I checked on it.
What could they have here that you could possibly want to buy?
Geez, all Bolivia can't look like this.
How do you know?
This might be the garden spot of the whole country.
People may travel hundreds of miles just to get to this spot where we're standing now.
This might be the Atlantic City, New Jersey of old Bolivia for all you know.
Look, I know a lot more about Bolivia than you know about Atlantic City, New Jersey.
I can tell you that.
Aha!
You do, huh?
I was born there.
I was born in New Jersey.
Brought up there.
So... You're from the East?
I didn't know that.
The total tonnage of what you don't know is enough to shatter.
I'm not sure we're accomplishing as much as we might here.
Listen, your job is to back me up because you'd starve without me.
And you, your job is to shut up!
He'll feel a lot better after he's robbed a couple of banks.
Robert Redford and Paul Newman re-teamed in 1973 for another great movie, The Sting.
And that same year Redford also starred opposite Barbara Streisand in the romantic drama The Way We Were.
He also sought more serious material when he branched out into directing and producing.
In his first film Behind the Camera, he directed Mary Tyler Moore, Donald Sutherland and Timothy Hutton in a searing family drama called Ordinary People and won an Oscar as Best Director.
He also directed A River Runs Through It and Quiz Show and made his biggest mark when buying the film rights to an as-yet unpublished book, All the President's Men, by Washington Post Watergate reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein.
The 1976 film starred Redford as Bob Woodward and Dustin Hoffman as Carl Bernstein, and the movie drew its drama by watching newspaper reporters go about their everyday work chasing down leads, making phone calls, writing stories.
In one scene which runs nearly seven minutes.
That drama is enhanced by the fact that it's photographed by one camera in a single unedited take.
The newsroom is buzzing in the background, while in the foreground all it is is Redford as Woodward placing a series of phone calls.
Yet, as an unbroken, gripping piece of acting, it's pretty magnificent.
Here's just a piece of it.
Committee to re-elect the president.
Could I please speak to Mr. Clark McGregor?
One moment, I'll connect you.
Thank you.
Yes.
Mr. McGregor.
Yes.
This is Bob Woodward of the Washington Post.
Hello.
Yes.
This is Bob Woodward of the Washington Post.
I just spoke to a Mr. Kenneth Dahlberg who says that he has Midwest Finance.
Yeah, I know Ken Dahlberg.
Well, I can't seem to get an explanation on why a check for 25000 made out to Mr Dahlberg, that he apparently sent to the committee to re-elect the president, would end up in the bank account of a Watergate burglar.
I don't know.
But you're head of the committee, sir.
Look, I just came aboard.
John Mitchell was the head of the committee.
He might know.
Well, what would the explanation possibly be for... I don't know.
You're implying that I should know.
If you print that, our relationship will be terminated.
Sir, we don't have a relationship.
Two years after starring in All the President's Men, Robert Redford founded the Sundance Film Institute, which led to the Sundance Film Festival.
Sundance still thrives.
And though Robert Redford's own resume as actor, director and producer would be impressive enough, the filmmakers he has supported at Sundance are equally noteworthy.
Who first got noticed at Sundance?
Steven Soderbergh, Wes Anderson, Sterling Harjo, Quentin Tarantino, Ava DuVernay, to name a few.
Finally, there's his longstanding environmental activism and support, which included his advocacy for Native Americans, his political lobbying on behalf of the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act, and his establishment of the Redford Center, a nonprofit dedicated to environmental impact filmmaking.
Terry Gross first spoke to Robert Redford in 1998.
He had mentioned that as a young man in the 1950s, he was drawn to beat poetry and jazz.
I'm interested in hearing more about B-poetry and jazz.
Oh, really?
When you were a young man, yeah.
So did you ever play yourself?
Did you ever play an instrument?
No, no, I didn't.
I was from a musical family, oddly enough, but we were so poor when I was a kid that there was a guy that came through the neighborhood I'll never forget, and he was offering free guitar lessons.
He'd give you one free guitar lesson, and And if you liked it, then you could go on.
You'd pay for it.
And I was desperate.
I just wanted it so badly.
And when my dad heard that this guy had come through, he said, no way.
Don't trust anybody that's offering you a free lunch.
And that was the end of that.
I never went down that road, sadly, because I love music.
And jazz just happened to come to me... Oh...
Well naturally, because West Coast jazz was just happening at that moment and those guys, you know, Jerry Mulligan and some of the other musicians, were musicians that there was this sort of exodus from the East because they felt the big bands had run dry and that there wasn't any place for them to go with their new ideas and new concepts.
So they kind of gathered out in the West Coast.
And there were places that existed then that were really wonderful.
There was a place in Long Beach, right on the sand, called Howard Rumsey's Lighthouse, and then there was a place that I used to go to and the only way I could get in there.
I was taken there by an older woman who was 20 and I was just 15.
I was 15.
Of course I was riding high, because I was not only going in illegally, but I was going in with an older woman, which made me feel like really big stuff, and we went to a place called The Hague.
It was a tiny little kind of a dive, looked like a sunken foundation and this big lawn across from the Ambassador Hotel, and I remember her taking me in there in 1952 I guess it was 53.
And it was just tiny, as big as a living room.
And there was Mulligan and Baker and these other guys.
And they were just coming out with a sound that was so different.
And it just went through me.
It just went right through me.
And I was just transfixed.
And so I hooked into something that was just starting.
And I think that association gave me, you know, added to my passion about it, because I felt that I was part of something new.
And the same with the beat poetry.
I had no idea what was going on.
I didn't know who any of these people were Kenneth Rexroth and Locke McCour and Gary Snyder and Allen Ginsberg.
I just remember the guy made a lot of noise, you know, and I thought I was going into a jazz place and instead it was.
It was City Lights in San Francisco.
The bookstore.
Yeah, and Ferlinghetti's place.
And so I didn't know what was going on.
I just stumbled in there looking for jazz and was about to leave because I thought, oh, wrong.
And then there was this stuff going on that was just different.
And you could feel it.
You know, you can feel it when you're in the presence of something new, a new voice, a new idea, and it becomes a real hook.
So I stayed and was very, very taken with it because for me it was...
Somehow, I mean, I was not a, I guess I was more quite a maverick kid.
I didn't.
I was not drawn to convention and I was bothered by the conventions.
I was forced to live in in a kind of Republican environment in Southern California where everything was perfect, the sun always shone.
And there was something missing for me that I found in these two movements.
You know, when you're talking about jazz and beat poetry in the 1950s, I think there's at least two things that they embodied for people.
One was just the art itself, the music and the poetry themselves.
But the other was the lifestyle of these really interesting people who were making that art.
I mean, they were hipsters.
They were bohemians.
And what spoke to you about that?
Did they give you ideas about a different kind of life that you could live?
Well, yes.
The essential ingredient for me was freedom.
I mean you.
You were living in an atmosphere of post-war atmosphere, that there was a big boom going on.
You know, there was an economic boom.
I don't know that the economic history of this country has ever known the strength of that time, the 50s.
And as a result, there was huge, you know, how money protects itself with rules.
And mores even come out of money to make sure you hold on to it and protect it and keep it.
And so that was going on.
And I've I was repulsed by that.
I just wanted desperately to get out.
I didn't want to be in Los Angeles.
I didn't want to be in my house.
It wasn't for lack of love or anything like that.
It's just I just didn't want to be there.
I wanted to be somewhere else where something else was happening.
And so the lifestyle of being on the road or being free freewheeling, was enormously appealing to me because it meant that I would have some license if I hooked into that.
That would be some license there to break the rules, which was very appealing to me.
So how did that translate into acting?
The translation probably was that, as an actor, I was drawn to the freedom that acting can provide, the freedom of expression, which is physical.
It's essentially physical as opposed to drawing or writing.
That to be activating all parts of your body and senses was appealing to me, and to keep it free, because there is a freedom in acting, along with the discipline.
So it was kind of a natural evolution, but I didn't start as an actor.
I started as an artist.
As a painter.
My life began, yeah.
Sundance is, of course, named after your character in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, your 1969 film.
What was the impact of that film on your life and on your career?
Before that, I had a certain freedom that I lost.
There's a danger, I think, if you're conscious, if you're paying attention, that with a kind of success, that you begin to be treated like an object.
And maybe some people want that.
Maybe that's the end game for some people.
But it wasn't for me because it was going to deprive me of the ability to observe.
If I was being observed as an object, then it was less likely I was going to be able to look back and see somebody in a real way.
And that would be a danger.
And then you move to the next stage of that, which is you begin to behave like one because you have no recourse.
For example, if you surround yourself with too much protection to guard against the assault from the outside that is full of such distortions, Then the danger that comes from that is you become insulated to the point of losing a sense of reality and you begin to behave like the very thing that people are viewing you as.
And then the third, I think, and final death knell is you become one.
So that was always something that I was on guard against and kind of moved through my life wary of it, tried to avoid ever getting sucked into that place.
But I think that particular film put me into a new place.
That was extremely difficult in the beginning because I had a lot of balancing to do and I had a lot of soul-searching to do and it was a struggle for a while.
What was the soul-searching about?
That might be too personal.
In which case, How honest you were going to be with it, how really honest you were going to be with it.
You know, a lot of people like to be falsely humble and say oh, I don't like all this attention, I don't like this and that, and the truth is they want it desperately.
And so it's a lie.
Right.
And I wanted to look real hard at that.
I thought, well, I've ended up in this place.
This is something I basically maybe really wanted, or did it just come on me?
And I need to get in touch with that and understand what that's really about.
Otherwise, I'll go way off the track.
So that's where the struggle came.
I had to identify what part of it I really did like and be able to be honest about it and say this feels good and then separate out from the part that didn't that was going to be destructive or dangerous.
That took a while.
Did Paul Newman, who was your co-star in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?
Did he give you any advice on handling this new celebrity?
Yeah, he did.
He says the best thing you could do would be to have a mind like mine, which is essentially empty.
What does that mean?
That way you'll survive forever.
You know, you forget things, you forget where you are, what time it is.
That's the way you survive in this business, and I've really tried to follow him.
He's done a beautiful job setting an example.
Paul had a real strong value system built in and I saw his struggle that he was, I think, quite successful with.
So in a way, Paul did set something of an example.
I think it's.
One of the reasons we got along well is that we've both had little use for a lot of the things that other people place a high value on.
Since it seems like you were somewhat ambivalent about all the success that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid brought to you, why did you want to name Sundance after your character, Sundance?
Well, this is weird, but I didn't.
It's hard to say that because I don't think anybody believes it is true.
I did not want to name it Sundance.
I was overruled.
When I started Sundance, I had four partners which dissolved within a year when I realized that they were really only interested in Sundance as a real estate venture and I was interested in it as more of a preservation project.
But when it was starting and I had the four other partners and we were getting into the venture and buying this land from a sheep herder in Utah, there was the discussion of a name and I was making the film.
I was in the process of making Bush Cassidy at the time and that name, which is a great name, came up.
And I said, no, I love the name because, in truth, what Sundance really is is a ritual.
It's a Native American ritual that owes to the Plains Indians.
It's ceremonial.
And there is a place called Sundance, Wyoming.
And so I said I like the name and also you can translate it to what this place looks like when you go up to the top of the mountain, particularly in the wintertime.
The sun does seem to bounce off the top of the peaks all around you in the Wasatch Range.
And sun is...
It's got a lot of symbolism.
It makes a lot of sense in a lot of different ways, but I'm playing a character called Sundance Kid and I don't want to go that way, because it'll look like I'm ripping off the film just to get a name for Sundance.
So I argued with the other investors and they overruled me because the other names weren't very good, and they said that I wasn't objective and that it was stupid and that it was a great name.
So I gave in to that, but that was not what I wanted.
Do you remember any of the names you wanted?
Yeah, I wanted Mr. Redford's Place.
Right.
I can't remember now what it was, but it wasn't as good as Sundance.
I have to agree that it's a very good name.
And through the years, now and maybe in time, that film will be forgotten, to the point at least as it relates to the name.
Robert Redford speaking to Terry Gross in 1998.
After a break, we'll listen to another of their conversations, this one from 2013.
It's part of today's tribute to the actor, director, and philanthropist who died Tuesday at age 89.
I'm David Bianculli, and this is Fresh Air.
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Today, we're remembering Robert Redford, who died Tuesday at age 89.
In the latter years of his life, Redford accepted fewer and fewer acting roles.
He played a deep state villain in a series of movies in the Marvel Avengers universe, purely because he enjoyed those types of films, and his last appearance was an uncredited role in a TV series.
He also produced Dark Winds.
But in 2013, when Terry Gross spoke to him again, Robert Redford had just completed one of the most demanding roles of his career.
He was the star and only actor in the movie All Is Lost, playing a man alone on a small yacht in the ocean.
You know, a couple of years ago there was a biography of you written by Michael Feeney Callan.
And I was reading that and I was really surprised to learn that as a child you had polio.
I mean, you're such a physical person.
You're so athletic and so physically fit.
And now even at the age of 77, you're so physically fit.
You needed to be in order to do All Is Lost.
And the thought of you being paralyzed for a while as a child was shocking to me.
Yeah, it was to me too.
Sure.
It wasn't a severe case.
I think we should want to make sure we get this straight.
It wasn't an iron lung case.
It was a case of mild polio, but it was severe enough to put me in bed for two weeks.
And because in those days polio before the Salk vaccine was discovered what hung over Your childhood was always the fear of polio, because all you saw were people in iron lungs.
So yeah, when I got it it was because of an extreme exertion in the ocean, in the bright sunlight in the ocean.
And it was alarming, but it wasn't serious enough to go much further.
Were you paralyzed at all?
No, no.
I couldn't move very well, but I was not paralyzed.
Your mother died when you were 18.
She was sick.
I'm not sure what she died of.
How did that change the course of your life?
Did you have to rewrite your plans and—
I don't know that it changed anything at the time.
She was a wonderful person.
She died very young.
She was full of life, full of laughter, full of love.
She was out there.
I mean, she would take chances and she was very risky.
And she taught me how to drive a car when I was 10 and nobody knew about it.
I mean, that kind of stuff.
So we had a close relationship.
But also, I was of a young mind just like all the other kids my age were.
You didn't want your parents doting on you.
You didn't want attention or anything like that.
And you had a mother that wanted to give you that attention.
And you kind of pushed it away.
I feel bad about that.
You went to college and, from what I've read, academics was not your thing so much and that you did a lot of drinking and rode motorcycles or drag races or whatever.
The whole thing.
Right.
Well, I don't know about that because that came a little bit later.
It was really – I went to college to get out of Los Angeles.
I went to college because it was Colorado and it was the mountains and I – by that time I realized that nature was going to be a huge part of my life.
Los Angeles for me was a city that when I was a little kid at the end of the Second World War, I loved that place.
I loved it.
It was full of green spaces.
And suddenly when the war ended and the economy revived, suddenly Los Angeles had no land use plan.
I felt like the city was being pushed into the sea.
That I loved, because suddenly there were skyscrapers and freeways and smog.
And I said, wait a minute, I want it out.
So I went into the mountains, into the Sierras, worked at Yosemite National Park and fell in love with nature that way.
And I realized that nature was going to be a big part of my life.
So I sought land elsewhere that I thought would be kept free of development.
You're talking about Sundance?
Yeah.
But let's get back to the drinking part in college.
Oh, okay.
You know, just reading briefly about that.
No, it sounded like an almost like rebel without a cause era.
You know what it was?
Yeah, I guess it was.
You know like you're breaking loose and everything, but it sounds like there was no like social political spiritual, whatever drug, even like context, to put it in.
Well, there was alcohol.
There was social.
The sociability was tied mostly to alcohol in those days.
And so, yeah, I certainly had my fill of that.
But what was at the heart of all this, I think, was the fact that I never, really I was not a good student through my entire life.
My mind was out the window.
I drew underneath the desk.
I drew pictures.
I just didn't, I wasn't learning the way I was supposed to learn.
And I think I realized that My education was going to happen when I got out in the world and engaged with other cultures and other places and other languages and had the adventure of exploration.
I felt that's my education.
So I left.
Actually, I was asked to leave.
Why were you asked to leave?
Because I was such a terrible student.
My grades were terrible.
And the interests I had were not anything that was going to amount to much of a career for me.
Anthropology I loved. psychology I loved, and geology I just really loved.
So you put all those things together, what are you going to be in life?
Anyway, I took off and earned some money in an oil field to earn enough money to last for a year in Europe and I went there when I was 18 to be an artist, and that's when I began.
I think that's when my education really began.
Robert Redford speaking to Terry Gross in 2013.
More after a break.
This is Fresh Air.
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You did a lot of episodic TV early in your career in the early 1960s.
Maverick, Rescue 8, The Deputy, Playhouse 90, Perry Mason, Naked City, The Twilight Zone.
Hey, no, Perry Mason.
No, look.
You know what the title of that?
That was, what, 1959?
You know what the title of that was?
What?
The Case of the Treacherous Toupee.
That was the name of it.
I was so excited to have a job, you know.
Who had the toupee?
It wasn't you, right?
I can't remember now.
It wasn't Raymond Burr, but somebody did, some blonde.
But those were your apprenticeship years.
And it's always one of the things that's sort of been weird is to see yourself characterized so often as somebody that looks well, that has glamorous looks or is appealing physically.
That's nice.
I mean, I'm not unhappy about that, but What I saw happening over time was that was getting the attention and sometimes – because I always felt that I was an actor and that's how I started.
I wanted – I was a person who loved the idea of craft and that learning your craft was something fundamentally and good, and I wanted to be good at my craft and therefore I would be an actor that would play many different kinds of roles, which I did.
I played killers.
I played rapists, really deranged characters.
But most people don't know about that because that was in television.
So suddenly you're seeing yourself kind of in a glamour category and you're saying well, wait a minute, you know.
The notion is that, well, you're not so much of an actor, you're just somebody that looks well.
And that was always hard for me because I always took pride in whatever role I was playing.
I would be that character.
Like, you know, if you look at, say, Jeremiah Johnson, you know, the character in The Wilderness.
And within the same year I was doing The Candidate.
And you put those two together and You would hope that some of you would say well, somebody's acting here.
I wanted to play a clip from your early episodic TV years and was thinking well, I'm a big fan of Route 66.
Have the box set.
Yeah, I love that show.
I loved it as a kid and I love looking back at it.
As a kid.
Thanks a lot.
What were you, 10 when I did my segment?
Hey, I was alive then.
A lot of people weren't.
What I liked about Route 66 was not so much the show as it was the route, because I remember hitchhiking as a kid back and forth on Route 66 because there were no freeways then.
There were no turnpikes or anything like that.
And so Route 66 was the way you got from Chicago to L.A. or vice versa.
So anyway, so I figured, whoa, let's do a clip from Route 66.
And then I'm reading your biography.
And I read this line on page 87 that you're saying to your agent I'd rather rot than be remembered for Route 66.
I said that?
You're quoted as saying that.
What can I say?
Am I?
Yeah.
I can't remember the show.
Do you have a clip you say?
Yeah.
Yeah.
So this is you don't even remember doing it.
This is from a 1961 episode with Nehemiah Persoff as your father.
And it's set in a mill town in a Polish American community.
And like you've gone off to out of town college.
So you've gotten out of the mill town, but you're back on a college break.
And the episode opens with you chasing after your girlfriend who's running away in the woods.
And we don't know what this fight is about, but you're trying to catch up to her.
You're not trying to attack her or anything, you're just trying to catch up to her and to reach her and to communicate with her.
She accidentally kind of falls off this hill and hits her head and dies and you don't know what to do.
So you don't call the cops, you don't tell anybody.
You try to tell your father, but your father, your father, just doesn't want to hear anything.
You're having trouble communicating with him.
He doesn't want to hear it.
Later, the police discover her dead.
You're implicated in her death.
And you're trying to explain to your father what really happened, because he's on the verge of killing you.
Your father doesn't know that you secretly had this girlfriend who was the daughter of your father's good friend.
So anyways.
So here's you trying to explain to your father, played by Nehemiah Persoff, what was really going on with your girlfriend and what was really going on with your relationship with your father.
Do you know why she ran?
Because she said to me, do you love me?
Will you marry me?
And I couldn't answer her with the truth.
I couldn't say yes.
Oh boy, I want to marry you.
Before God and the whole world, I do.
How could I say that to her and hurt her even more?
I wanted to marry her.
Would you have stood for it, Papa?
If you have to marry her, you marry her.
No, I didn't have to.
It was never anything like that.
Then why should I run around with you?
Why you not come to me?
Why you not come to me?
Have I ever, ever, ever been able to come to you, Papa, with anything that was my own idea?
Haven't you always decided everything for me?
Haven't you decided everything for me always?
Who I must be?
What I must be?
How I must be?
I don't remember that at all.
I'm not ashamed of it, obviously, but I don't.
God, that's so interesting.
I don't remember.
I just don't remember that at all.
That's amazing.
So your voice sounds so much different.
It's higher.
Well, yeah.
I was recently – J.C. and I – J.C.
Chandor and I were – The director of All's Lost.
Yeah.
Director of All's Lost.
J.C. and I were at a festival and they ran clips of my career.
I had never seen it.
They had clips going all the way back, all the way up to now.
And it was very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.
Clips from different films and it went back into TV.
And you're right.
The voice was very different just like you're describing.
Yeah.
And I did the last Playhouse 90 that was ever done.
I just thought that was the best show.
When I was a kid, I thought that was the best show on television.
And I was fortunate enough to be in the very last Playhouse 90 that was written by Rod Serling.
And I was able to be – I played a young German lieutenant, very sympathetic Nazi lieutenant.
He gets corrupted by – or somebody else tries to corrupt him, but he resists the corruption.
And Charles Lawton played the rabbi.
Oh, acting with Charles Lawton must have been so interesting.
But there's a great story that's told in your biography about the slap.
Oh, yeah.
He was intimidating.
It was one of my first parts.
And there was a scene with George McCready, who played my commanding officer.
And it's during a pogrom, and they're calling out names in the street to be packed into trucks.
And after, as we come up to the rabbi's apartment And there's a tension between the rabbi played by Charles Lawton and McCready.
And there's an intellectual challenge involving Nietzsche and God and so forth.
So I'm just there clueless.
I'm this young, innocent, naive guy.
And at one point, Lawton drops something.
He drops his Bible.
And I reach down to pick it up, which is a no-no.
And McCready sees this and realizes, uh-oh, this kid needs some training.
And the rabbi sees that my instinct is to be compassionate.
I reach down to pick up the Bible.
And so he looks me in the eye.
And the look is like, I see who you really are.
I see who you really are.
McCready says, apparently you feel like you have to be sympathetic to the rabbi.
He says, therefore I instruct you to slap him.
So then I supposedly slap him.
I'm reluctantly, but I slap him.
And as we're getting ready to do it, it was going to be live.
It was going to be live telecast.
As we're getting ready in rehearsal, Lawton comes up and he says Dear boy, you're causing me to slap.
What are you going to do?
And I said, What do you mean, what am I going to do?
He said, What are you going to do?
Because I can't be hit.
I said, You can't be hit?
No, I can't be hit.
What are you going to do?
I thought, Jesus, now what am I going to do, you know?
So I go to the director, and I said, what am I supposed to do here?
And he said, oh, gee, don't bother me.
I've got enough troubles.
So we get on the show and I'm standing there and, as we're getting to the moment, I'm thinking who is this guy to tell me what I'm supposed to do, what I can't do, what I can't do?
And I got so riled up and I was so nervous on top of it that when it came time I thought who is he to tell me what I can do or can't do?
So I hauled up and really whacked him.
And it wasn't a slap.
It was a whack.
And his spit came out of his jowl.
He looked at me and tears came out of his eyes.
He looked at me and when it was over, I thought, oh, boy.
I can get a mouthful.
So I go to his dressing room to apologize.
I'm really sorry.
He says, no, you did the right thing.
You did the right thing.
Robert Redford speaking to Terry Gross in 2013.
More after a break.
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So skipping ahead to 1969, you make Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with Paul Newman.
And this is the movie that makes you kind of iconic.
Did you already know how to ride horses?
Did you like westerns when you were making this?
Yeah, I knew how to ride horses.
I loved horses.
I liked doing my own stunts when I could.
Um, and he was really well known.
I was not well known.
I had just done, I think, the film barefoot in the park.
But he had a career.
Obviously that was very high.
And so the studio did not want me that the director, George Roy Hill, and I met in a bar in third Avenue.
And, uh, They were putting me up to play Butch Cassidy because I had done this comedy on Broadway.
So nobody thinks very deep about stuff like that.
They said, well, if he did a comedy, maybe he should go up for Butch Cassidy.
And so we're sitting in this bar and I told him at the time, I said, yeah, I can do that.
But that's not the part that interests me.
I'm more interested in the Sundance Kid.
I feel more comfortable in that role.
I feel more – I could connect more to that character.
And that surprised George and then he got kind of sold on that idea.
But the studio didn't want me.
And they tried everything to keep me out of the film at that time.
It was 20th Century Fox.
And I think it was Paul Newman and William Goldman, the writer and George, that stood up for me against the studio.
But the one that really pushed it aside, of course, was Paul.
And when I met Paul, he was very generous and kind.
He said, I'll do it with Redford.
I never forgot that.
That was a gesture that I never forgot.
I felt that I really owed him after that.
And then he and I, in the course of that film, became really, really good friends.
And that friendship carried on to the next film and then it carried on into our personal lives.
He was originally supposed to be the Sundance Kid and you were supposed to be Butch Cassidy?
Yeah, that's right.
The original title of the script was The Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidy.
That was the original title that Goldman had written.
And Newman was to play Sundance, but he had played that kind of part before.
And George was the guy that saw Paul.
He saw a side of Paul that many hadn't seen, because he had worked with him in television and he knew him personally.
He says, no, this guy, he's very nervous.
He talks a lot.
He tells bad jokes.
I think I see him as Butch Cassidy, and he saw me as Sundance.
So he had to fight for that.
So when it was finally done, then they changed the title to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Would you mind if I played a scene?
Mm-mm.
Okay.
So this is a kind of famous scene where, you know, you're both bank and train robbers.
And at this point, you're not exactly surrounded, but you're cornered.
You're on a... A ledge.
A ledge, yeah.
And on top of you on this, you know, rocky ledge is the posse that's hunting you down.
You've got no place to turn.
You've got no place to go except for the water that's underneath.
And that's... You're up really, really high.
And it's a very rocky river or stream.
Yeah.
But anyways, as Butch Cassidy is trying to figure out what their options are, what you want to do is like shoot your way out.
And so you speak first.
Ready?
No, we'll jump.
Like hell we will.
No, it'll be okay.
If the water's deep enough, we don't get squished to death.
He'll never follow us.
How do you know?
Would you make a jump like that and you didn't have to?
I have to and I'm not going to.
Well, we got to.
Otherwise, we're dead.
They're just going to have to go back down the same way they come.
Come on.
Just one clear shot.
That's all I want.
Come on.
We got you.
Get away from me.
Why?
I want to fight them.
They'll kill us.
Maybe.
You want to die?
Do you?
All right.
I'll jump first.
No.
Then you jump first.
No, I said.
What's the matter with you?
I can't swim.
Why are you crazy?
The fall will probably kill you.
How reassuring.
So that's my guest, Robert Redford, with Paul Newman from the 1969 film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Were you surprised at how famous that scene became?
Yes, I was.
I mean, I was surprised at the whole thing.
I remember when I saw the rough cut.
I mean, I loved making the film.
I had a lot of fun.
I've never had so much fun on a film as I have that one.
But when I saw the rough cut of it, I said, wait a minute, what's that song doing in it?
Oh, raindrops are falling on my head.
Yeah, I said, wait a minute, what's that all about?
I said, what in the hell?
I said, first of all, it's not raining.
Secondly, what's that got to do with anything?
I thought, well, that just killed the film.
Yeah.
It made no sense to me.
How wrong can you be?
I had to listen to that song on the radio for six months.
But the film also, Terry.
Another thing that's interesting about how – I guess the value of word of mouth.
I remember when the film came out, George Roy Hill and William Goldman were very upset and depressed because the reviews were mixed to negative.
And word of mouth is what made the film build.
But when it first opened, it had these mixed reviews.
I didn't read them.
I remember they were very upset and depressed.
And one of the reasons the reviews some of the reviews were negative was that the anachronism of the dialogue, like modern day talk.
Then I found that pretty inspiring and fun.
It was just fun.
But apparently that's what some of the negative response was.
But it was, I guess, overridden by the by the acceptance of the whole film.
By the way, I had the same reaction about raindrops falling on my head in the middle of a film.
I thought, yeah, it made absolutely no sense to me.
It's you and me then.
There's two of us.
Well, unfortunately, our time is up.
But I hope we get to continue this conversation.
I look forward to a part two.
Yeah, absolutely.
There's so much we haven't gotten to.
It's really been a pleasure to talk with you.
Thank you so much for coming back.
Thank you, Terry.
And your voice is a lot more pleasant than mine.
Oh, I wish.
No, it is.
You have a beautiful voice.
Oh, thank you so much.
I'll play that back in my mind.
Okay.
Robert Redford speaking to Terry Gross in 2013.
He died Tuesday at age 89.
The Sundance Film Festival, which he founded in 1978, is scheduled to be held next January in its traditional locations Park City and Salt Lake City in Utah.
Beginning in 2027, the festival is scheduled to relocate to Boulder, Colorado.
On Monday's show, Elizabeth Gilbert, the best-selling author of Eat Pray Love, talks about her first nonfiction book in a decade.
All the Way to the River.
It's about her intense relationship with her best friend Rhea, a love that she describes as deep and life-changing, but also destructive, marked by addiction and heartbreak.
I hope you can join us to keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews.
Follow us on instagram at npr fresh air.
Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller.
Sam Brigger is our managing producer.
Our senior producer today is Roberta Schorach.
Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Hertzfeld and Charlie Kyer.
Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Anne-Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Teresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Yakundi and Anna Bauman.
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