Franco Nero Strikes Again | Little White Lies

Interviews

Fran­co Nero Strikes Again

21 Jan 2021

Man in fur coat against industrial cityscape background.
Man in fur coat against industrial cityscape background.
The screen icon talks Taran­ti­no, the delayed Djan­go Lives!, and the time he got naked for John Huston.

When you sit down to dis­cuss an act­ing career that’s spanned 50 years and more than 200 films, it’s hard to know where to begin. Fran­co Nero, though, wears his sta­tus as a screen leg­end casu­al­ly – he loves to tell a good yarn, whether it’s about bump­ing into Andy Warhol or vis­it­ing Muham­mad Ali’s house.

The Ital­ian is prob­a­bly best known for his role in Ser­gio Corbucci’s influ­en­tial 1966 spaghet­ti west­ern Djan­go, in which Nero wields a cof­fin loaded with a machine gun. But he’s made films in near­ly every con­ceiv­able genre for the likes of Euro­crime mas­ters Cor­buc­ci and Enzo Castel­lari, to inter­na­tion­al art­house direc­tors Luis Buñuel and Rain­er Wern­er Fass­binder. At 79, he’s still work­ing as hard as ever, with a new film – the World War Two thriller Recon – cur­rent­ly stream­ing in the UK.

LWLies: How are you doing dur­ing lockdown?

Nero: Well, I’m a lit­tle upset, because I’ve had so many projects post­poned. I was sup­posed to do a movie in New York, a won­der­ful west­ern called Djan­go Lives!. And one in Cuba with the direc­tor of Recon, Robert Port. And my own movie, The Man Who Drew God, where I would write, act and direct.

There’s a lot of nos­tal­gia for the film­mak­ing of the 60s and 70s, espe­cial­ly with spaghet­ti west­erns and crime thrillers like the ones you made. Do you ever get nos­tal­gic about the past?

Yes, that was real cin­e­ma. TV ruined every­thing. At that time, there was no TV and big movie stars were there to make peo­ple dream. Now every­one knows what you’re doing; they know every­thing. There is no secret any­more, no mag­ic. And the way we were shoot­ing movies at that time, it was shoot­ing for cin­e­ma. Now every­thing is shot for TV, even if it’s a movie. They shoot like it’s a video game – boom, boom, boom. They get bored if it’s too slow. If I choose to see movies, I see old movies. Yes­ter­day, I watched Sev­en Brides for Sev­en Broth­ers and West Side Sto­ry. On Ital­ian TV recent­ly, they were show­ing 60 of my movies.

Did you watch any of them?

I watched some. Some I thought, I’m not bad – I’m actu­al­ly quite good in that movie.’ But some of them I said, Oof, this is a lit­tle shit­ty movie.’

You were dis­cov­ered by John Hus­ton. Can you tell us about that?

When I was 22, I came to Rome with­out a pen­ny. And I was help­ing a pho­tog­ra­ph­er, and one day a friend of his who was a pho­tog­ra­ph­er from De Lau­ren­ti­is stu­dios asked to take close-ups of me. Those pho­tos end­ed up on the desk of John Hus­ton. He asked me to meet him in this hotel […] and he looks at me and says, Now undress!’ He want­ed to see my body because I was play­ing Abel (in the Bible) and he need­ed to see. He looked at me very care­ful­ly and then said I could go.

After two days, some­body said, Mr Nero, John Hus­ton chose you to play Abel.’ Richard Har­ris was Cain. Hus­ton said to me, You have a won­der­ful face, won­der­ful physique, but you have to learn Eng­lish.’ So he said, I will be your teacher.’ At a cer­tain point, he gave me records of Shake­speare per­formed by John Giel­gud, Michael Red­grave, Lau­rence Olivi­er. I was learn­ing Shake­speare pho­net­i­cal­ly with­out know­ing what I was saying.

Joshua Logan, the direc­tor of Camelot, told me the same thing. Phys­i­cal­ly I was per­fect for the part of Lancelot du Lac, but my Eng­lish was not good enough. I said, But Mr Logan, I know Shake­speare in Eng­lish!’ I start­ed to recite, All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women mere­ly play­ers,’ and I went on for half an hour. He said, If you can do Shake­speare in Eng­lish you can do a few bloody lines,’ and he hired me! So that was because of John Huston.

Over the years, have there been many films you turned down that you wished you had done?

I’ve done 230 movies in my life, so I was very busy for many years. I had so many offers I had to say no to, but yes it hap­pened many times. There was a movie that won an Oscar, by Vit­to­rio De Sica, The Gar­den of the Finzi-Con­ti­nis. Lots of Amer­i­can films!

You have a good rela­tion­ship with Quentin Taran­ti­no – he loves you and your movies, and of course you have a cameo in Djan­go Unchained. What did you make of Once Upon a Time in Hol­ly­wood, with all its ref­er­ences to spaghet­ti west­erns and poliziotteschi?

I like the movie. I’m prac­ti­cal­ly in the movie! Have you seen me in it? It’s the poster. When the young girl [Mar­got Rob­bie] goes to the cin­e­ma, there’s a big poster of [Ser­gio Corbucci’s 1968 film] The Mer­ce­nary. And remem­ber, Djan­go Unchained is a homage to Cor­buc­ci and to me. The orig­i­nal Djan­go was also about oppressed peo­ple, in that case the Mexicans.

I want­ed to ask about your role in Fassbinder’s Querelle. He was a noto­ri­ous­ly dif­fi­cult direc­tor, wasn’t he?

For me, he was the eas­i­est direc­tor who I worked with. He was look­ing for me for Querelle, and I accept­ed. When we met, I asked Rain­er how he want­ed me to play the char­ac­ter and he said, Just do it. If there’s some­thing wrong, I’ll let you know.’ And then he nev­er told me a word. Noth­ing! One day I went over to his house, and I saw he had prac­ti­cal­ly 40 videos of my movies.

So he was starstruck!

He came up to me in Paris Bar, in Berlin, where I was eat­ing, and asked the wait­er for a nap­kin. He wrote a con­tract on it, say­ing that I, Fran­co Nero, would do Fassbinder’s next three films. I signed it and he put it in his pock­et. But as you know, he died at the end of the movie.

You’ve worked with some huge stars over the years. Do you feel there was any­thing in par­tic­u­lar you learned from any of them?

I have worked with very big stars – Hen­ry Fon­da, Burt Lan­cast­er, William Hold­en, Har­ri­son Ford – but the actor I will nev­er for­get is Lau­rence Olivi­er. We were shoot­ing Last Days of Pom­peii in Pinewood, out­side Lon­don. He was already quite old, but strange­ly enough when the cam­era start­ed rolling he was up, and when they fin­ished the scene, boom, he’d sit down like he was dead.

Dur­ing the lunch break, he said to me, Fran­co, can you do me a favour? I want to see my friend who’s on the oth­er sound­stage. Can you help me walk over?’ So I said of course, and I put him on my shoul­der. I said to myself, I have the great­est actor of all time on my shoul­der and there’s not one pho­tog­ra­ph­er around!

But he said to me, Would you like to be a star or an actor?’ I said I’d like to be a good actor. In your career you go up and down, but if you are con­sid­ered a good actor, in the long run you will get the fruits. I fol­lowed this advice. I played movies for chil­dren, west­erns, action movies, polit­i­cal movies, musi­cals – every­thing. I enjoyed doing all this. Every time, I think of Lau­rence Olivi­er and his advice.

Recon is now avail­able on Blu-ray, DVD & Dig­i­tal Down­load from shops and online cour­tesy of Daz­zler Media.

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