http://theweek.com/article/index/215500/a-different-kind-of-sports-hero

A different kind of sports hero

When Muhammad Ali burst onto the scene, says Robert Lipsyte, no one knew what to make of him

posted on May 20, 2011, at 1:30 PM

In 1964 Cassius Clay, a.k.a. Muhammad Ali, was a 22-year-old underdog, on the verge of becoming a champion, and one writer was there to capture it all. Photo: Bettmann/CORBIS SEE ALL 59 PHOTOS

MUHAMMAD ALI WAS my first Big Story. He put my name on Page 1. He made me a columnist. He was also the single most important sporting lens through which I learned about politics, religion, race, and hero worship. Loving Ali has been easy. It’s grasping what he stands for at any given moment that’s been hard.

Our journey began as sheer joy. The first time I ever saw him, I was standing with the Beatles. That was Feb. 18, 1964, when his name was Cassius Clay. He was 22 years old. I was 26. The New York Times was so sure that Clay would be knocked out early in his heavyweight title fight in Miami against the champion, Sonny Liston, that the paper didn’t bother to send its boxing writer. Instead, it sent a feature writer whose time was less valuable. I was thrilled with the assignment.

My instructions were stark: As soon as I landed, I was to drive my rental car from the arena to the nearest hospital, mapping the quickest route. The paper didn’t want me to waste any deadline time following Clay to intensive care. After my mapping expedition, I drove to the seedy old 5th Street Gym (in what is now trendy South Beach) to watch Clay’s daily training session for the first time. He hadn’t arrived yet, but the gym was packed with tourists and sportswriters—Clay had been on the cover of Time for his coffeehouse-doggerel readings (“This is the story about a man / with iron fists and a beautiful tan”) and his ability to predict the round in which his carefully chosen opponents would fall.

As I climbed the splintery stairs, there was a hubbub behind me. Four little guys around my age in matching white terry-cloth cabana jackets were being herded up. Someone said it was that hot new British rock group on their first American tour. I was annoyed. Bad enough this disgrace to poetry was sullying boxing, now these noisy mop tops were trying to cash in on the sweet science. A British photographer traveling with the Beatles had tried to pose them with Sonny Liston, but the champ had refused—“Not with them sissies,” he is supposed to have said—and now they were settling for a photo op with the challenger.

The Beatles were cranky in that damp dressing room, stomping and cursing. I introduced myself, rather importantly, I’m afraid, and they mimicked me. John shook my hand gravely, saying he was Ringo, and introduced me to Paul, who he said was John. I asked for their predictions. They said that Liston would destroy Clay, that silly little overhyped wanker. Then they ignored me to snarl among themselves again. “Silly little overhyped wankers,” I thought.

Suddenly the locker room door burst open, and Cassius Clay filled the doorway. The Beatles and I gasped. He was so much larger than he looked in pictures. He was beautiful. He seemed to glow. He was laughing.

“Hello there, Beatles!” he roared. “We oughta do some road shows together, we’ll get rich.”

The Beatles got it right away. They followed Clay out to the boxing ring like kindergarten kids. You would have thought they’d met before and choreographed their routine. They bounced into the ring, capered, dropped down to pray that Clay would stop hitting them. He picked up Ringo, the bittiest Beatle. Then they lined up so Clay could knock them all out with one punch. They fell like dominoes, then jumped up to form a pyramid to get at Clay’s jaw. The five of them began laughing so hard their impromptu frolics collapsed. That photo op is a classic.

After the Beatles left, Clay jumped rope, shadowboxed, and sparred as his court jester, Drew Bundini Brown, hollered, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, rumble, young man, rumble!” Afterward, stretched out on a dressing-room table for his rubdown, Clay pretended to fall asleep as reporters asked him what he was going to do after he lost. Finally, a crabby old reporter from Boston said, “This whole act is a con job, isn’t it?” and Clay pretended to wake up and said, “I’m making all this money, the popcorn man is making money and the beer man, and you got something to write about. Your papers let you come down to Miami Beach, where it’s warm.” The Boston reporter shut up.

That was the moment when I began to wish this kid wasn’t going to get his head knocked off. He would have been such a joy to cover, I thought. Too bad he’s only passing through, a firefly fad like the Beatles.

My reverie of regret was interrupted by Clay, poking me. He put his head close to mine and whispered that he had noticed me coming out of the locker room with the four visitors. “Who were those little sissies?” he asked.

THE WEEKLONG BUILDUP to that fight was intense and clamorous, a feverish, hilarious, nutty series of encounters with down-and-out old boxers, sleazy hustlers, hookers, gamblers. While the week was a twilight reminder of the Damon Runyon days, it was also a foreshadowing of the more politicized days to come. Clay’s mentor, Malcolm X, then a Black Muslim minister and white America’s designated bogeyman, was floating around the edges of the scene. His presence made plausible the rumor that Clay was waiting until after the fight to announce his membership in the Lost-Found Nation of Islam.

I kept an eye out for Malcolm that week in Miami but never saw him. The summer before, I’d been assigned to write a sidebar to the second Floyd Patterson–Sonny Liston fight. This usually meant a chat with Patterson’s wife or former manager or some old juvies from his neighborhood. I’m not sure if it was my political nature kicking in or if I was trying to create
my own style, but I headed out to Brooklyn, where a thousand blacks and whites were protesting racial bias in the construction industry.

I spotted Malcolm, whom I recognized from newspaper photos. Tall, handsome, cold-eyed, the former Malcolm Little, a robber, drug dealer, and pimp who had found Islam and radical politics in prison, was standing across the street smirking at the demonstrators. I rushed over and asked him what he thought the fight signified. He said, “That’s a stupid question,” and his bodyguards, three black-suited members of the Fruit of Islam, the paramilitary wing of the Nation of Islam, shoved me into the gutter. As I went down, I yelled, “The only stupid question is an unanswered question!”

Malcolm smiled and nodded. The Fruit picked me up. I introduced myself. He said, “I’m pleased to see that the two best men in the sport are black. But they’ll be exploited, of course, and the promoters will get all the bread. They’ll let a Negro excel if it’s going to make money for them.”

That sidebar was a turning point for me. It gave me the courage to find my own signature. The Times ran the story without discussion, and it may have led to my being sent to Miami Beach six months later.

That week of his first title fight, Clay dazzled with charm and braggadocio. The sportswriters of my generation were delighted with a subject who reflected our happening times of hippies, pop art, psychedelics, free love, rock and roll. We bemoaned his imminent demise at the hands of the baleful ex-con Liston, whose most searching remark about Clay, written in red in my notebook, was, “He’s a fag, I’m a man.”

The older sportswriters—Red Smith, Jimmy Cannon, Dick Young, Arthur Daley—clustered in Liston’s camp. They derided Clay’s unorthodox boxing style (he leaned away from punches rather than letting them “slip” over his shoulders). They seemed offended by his trash talk, “Liston’s a big ugly bear” and “I am the greatest.” They also resented the casual way he treated them, his cheery disrespect for their importance.

The fight, of course, was my professional dream come true. The first inkling that the prohibitive 7-to-1 odds against Clay might be a mistake came when the fighters met in the middle of the ring. Clay was bigger than Liston. Round by round, I kept losing my breath. Except for the moments when he was apparently blinded by some chemical from Liston’s gloves, Clay totally dominated the fight. Clay danced around Liston, he jabbed, he slugged, he mocked the brute. Then Liston sat down on his stool and wouldn’t get up, and it was over. Clay capered on the ring apron, yelling at the press, “Eat your words!”

And then it was my turn, minutes to deadline, banging out a paragraph on my little Olivetti, ripping out the page, handing it to the telegrapher at my side, banging on. I loved the rush of writing under the gun. I’d never say it was better than sex, but it was in the same ballpark.

The front-page, above-the-fold story I filed began, “Incredibly, the loud-mouthed, bragging, insulting youngster had been telling the truth all along. Cassius Clay won the world heavyweight title tonight when a bleeding Sonny Liston, his left shoulder injured, was unable to answer the bell for the seventh round.”

I don’t remember what I did with the rest of that night, but I don’t think I slept. I still have the scrawled notes of my future-story file: Muslims, Malcolm, Clay’s early life in Louisville, Liston’s reputed mob connections, whither boxing?, a new model of sports hero. I wanted to hang on to this story.

It got even better the next morning, at Clay’s press conference. He was subdued and polite, and after he said that he would give Liston a rematch and fight all contenders, he said, “I’m through talking. All I have to be is a nice, clean gentleman.”

The older reporters liked that. They smiled and nodded at one another. It had all been a put-on after all. They shifted a little nervously, though, when he added, “I’m sorry for Liston. You people put too much load on him, you built him up too big, and now he has such a long way to fall.”

At that, most reporters, certainly the older ones, left to file their stories: All was right with the world—Clay was a nice kid, if a little full of himself. Some would write that he had gotten lucky, a few that the fight might have been fixed so Liston would get an even bigger payday next time.

The younger reporters lingered, unsatisfied. We asked about Malcolm and about the Muslims’ nationalism and their espousal of racial separation.

“Listen,” said Clay. “In the jungle the lions are with lions and the tigers with tigers and the redbirds stay with redbirds and bluebirds with bluebirds. That’s human nature, too, to be with your own kind. I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted.”

Most of us were integrationists, supporters of Freedom Rides, sit-ins, voter-registration drives. We looked at one another. Is he kidding?

Someone asked, “So are you a card-carrying Muslim?”

Clay sounded annoyed. “I go to Black Muslim meetings, and what do I see? I see that there’s no smoking and no drinking and no fornicating and their women wear dresses down to the floor. And then I come out on the street, and you tell me I shouldn’t go in there. Well, there must be something in there if you don’t want me to go in there.”

“What about your responsibility as champion to the youth?”

Clay quickly replied, “I don’t have to be what you want me to be, I’m free to be who I want.”

That sounded like an athletic declaration of independence to me. Maybe my heart didn’t quite leap, but it bounced a little. This was going to be a big story, and it was going to be around for a while, and I was going to ride it to the buzzer.

---

From the book An Accidental Sportswriter: A Memoir, by Robert Lipsyte. Copyright ©2011 by Robert Lipsyte. Reprinted by arrangement with Ecco, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

Julie Benz on "Rambo 4": Nydailynews.com Interview

From Nydailynews.com -�

Julie Benz on "Rambo 4": Nydailynews.com Interview

January 25, 2008 - Vietnam veteran John Rambo has survived many harrowing ordeals in his lifetime and has since withdrawn into a simple and secluded existence in Bangkok, where he spends his time salvaging old PT boats and tanks for scrap metal. Even though he is looking to avoid trouble, trouble has a way of finding him. A group of Christian human rights missionaries, led by Michael Burnett and Sarah Miller, approach Rambo with the desire to rent his boat to travel up the river to Burma. For over fifty years, Burma has been like a war zone. The Karen people of the region, who consist of peasants and farmers, have endured brutally oppressive rule from the murderous Burmese military and have been struggling for survival every single day. This is the time when medical assistance and general support from the Christian missionaries is needed most. After some consideration, and due to insistence from his mentor, former military man Ed Baumgartner, Rambo accepts the offer and takes Michael, Sarah, and the rest of the missionaries up the river. When the missionaries finally arrive at the Karen village, they are ambushed by the sadistic Major Pa Tee Tint and a slew of Burmese army men. A portion of the villagers and missionaries are tortured and viciously murdered, while Tint and his men hold the remainder captive. News soon reaches the minister in charge of the mission and with the help of Ed Baumgartner he employs Rambo to lead a rescue effort. With five young and highly diverse mercenaries at his disposal, Rambo has to travel back up the river and liberate the survivors from the clutches of Major Tint in what may be one of his deadliest missions ever.

Actress Julie Benz survived camp Stallone while making the new �Rambo�

Talk to Julie Benz about the glamorous life of a Hollywood actress and she�ll tell you about being tied to a pole next to a pigpen for a scene in "Rambo" - the day the pigs broke through the fence and started coming for her.

"I was terrified, because someone had told me that if they think you smell good, they�ll eat you!" Benz says. "I kept thinking, �I hope I smell bad!� It�s scary to come in contact with a 400-pound beast when you�re tied up. Even as someone came to rescue me, I heard Sly say, �Keep the cameras rolling!�"

Benz, speaking by telephone from Los Angeles, laughs - partly at the memory, partly at the fact that she�s actually referred to Sylvester Stallone as "Sly." After being cast as the female lead in the first "Rambo" film in 20 years, which opens Friday, it took her a while to stop calling the action icon "Mr. Stallone" during their time filming "Rambo," which writer and director Stallone hopes will rescue one of his signature characters the same way last year�s "Rocky Balboa" capped the saga of his Philly boxer.

"He hates it when I call him �Mr. Stallone,�" Benz, 35, says of the 61-year-old star, whom she admits was a favorite of hers when she was growing up. "But anytime you meet somebody whose work you�ve admired for a long time - when I went to audition, it was all I could do not to show that my hands were shaking. I had to get past my shyness to play opposite him. I went through a couple of phases - calling him �Mr. Stallone,� then calling him �Hey, you.�

"It took a while before I could call him �Sly� without giggling."

In "Rambo," Stallone�s Vietnam-vet soldier for hire, John Rambo (first seen in 1982�s relatively sedate thriller "First Blood," then elevated to iconic status in "Rambo: First Blood Part II" (1985) and last seen battling the Russians in Afghanistan in 1988�s "Rambo III"), is living peacefully in a backwater of Thailand (where the film was shot), piloting a boat and catching snakes for a riverside tourist attraction.

Benz�s Sarah asks him to ferry her and a group of doctors up the river to Burma, so they can help oppressed tribes. When the vicious Burmese military takes the doctors captive, it�s up to Rambo to rescue them.

Bullets, blood and body parts all fly, of course - but in her part, Benz never touched a weapon.

"I�m not a gun person," she admits. "But those were big guns. On some days, it was so loud and intense - the sound just rips through your gut. You�re not really acting; you�re reacting."

A slight, slim, 5-foot-4 native of Pittsburgh, Benz was nationally ranked at No. 13 in figure skating when she retired at age 16. A stress fracture derailed her as a young teen and, by the time she resumed skating, she�d discovered acting. So she put her athletic career on ice.

"Plus, figure skaters have a shorter shelf life," she notes.

After graduating from New York University, she moved to Los Angeles, where she started landing TV roles. She was eventually cast on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" as Buffy�s nemesis, the evil vampire Darla, a role that carried over to "Buffy" spinoff "Angel."

Benz, so slinky and in control as the undead, is practically unrecognizable in her latest series, Showtime�s "Dexter." She plays Rita, a single mother who has survived an abusive marriage, and now is in a romantic relationship with a clean-cut police forensic scientist (Michael C. Hall) - who secretly is a serial killer who targets murderers and other nasty people.

"At the core, they�re kind of the same. They�re both very damaged women," Benz says. "They both tap into very different sides of me."

Neither, however, puts Benz into quite the state she was in at the end of a day playing a pigpen prisoner in "Rambo."

"I�d go back to the hotel and have to take three showers, just to get the first layer of mud off - and then take three more showers and a bath to finish the job," she says. "I don�t think I was clean the whole time I was filming."

Jennifer Ouellette talk on "The Physics of the Buffyverse"

From Categoricallynot.com -

Jennifer Ouellette talk on "The Physics of the Buffyverse"

Ouellette, who authored the book, will give a talk on 27 January at Santa Monica Art Studios (6 for 6.30pm)

From the site:

For the physics behind Buffy the Vampire slayer (and kin), science writer Jennifer Ouellette will use the characters, concepts and plot lines of popular TV series to illustrate such fundamental physics as sound, electricity, thermodynamics, relativity, wormholes and string theory. An English major, Jennifer stumbled into science writing by accident, but has been avidly exploring her inner geek ever since. She writes for Discover, New Scientist, Symmetry, Salon, and Nature; and is the author of The Physics of the Buffyverse and Black Bodies and Quantum Cats: Tales from the Annals of Physics.

Click on the link for more info :

http://categoricallynot.com/upcomingevents.html

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Spacewesterns.com interview with Jane Espenson

From Spacewesterns.com -

Spacewesterns.com interview with Jane Espenson

Jane Espenson is a Hugo Award‑winning screen‑writer who has worked on several science fiction television series including Star Trek : Deep Space 9, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly, and Battlestar Galactica, among others. She has also edited two anthologies of essays — Finding Serenity and Serenity Found — about Joss Whedon’s ’verse as seen in the television series Firefly and the major motion picture Serenity.

You can discover even more about Jane Espenson and her work at www.janeespenson.com.

How did you get involved in writing for Television ?

The first step was just getting involved with television — I loved it so much that I knew I wanted to write for TV from when I was a small child. Every now and then, as a kid, and then as an undergraduate in college, I’d try to write a spec script — a writing sample in the form of a script for an established show. I was in grad school when I learned you could submit scripts to Star Trek : The Next Generation without having to have an agent as intermediary. I submitted three spec episodes of Star Trek : The Next Generation and was invited in to pitch episode ideas. It was after this modest start that I learned of the Disney Writing Fellowship, which really launched my career.

How did you get involved with the Science Fiction genre ?

It might sound random, since, after all, Trek was the only show with an open door policy, so I’d’ve been steered in that direction anyway. But I was already a huge fan of the show and of the genre in general. I love metaphorical storytelling, which is at the heart of Sci Fi — this is our world, but looked at through a lens. Love that.

What was your first introduction to Space Westerns ?

Does that one ep of classic Trek count ? Actually, I didn’t even know it was a subgenre until after I’d written for Firefly. To me, it was just the lens that Joss was putting on the modern world in order to be able to talk about it.

How would you define “Space Western” ?

Hmm. I guess I’d say anything is a Space Western that maps space exploration as having parallels to the Western‑directed exploration of the U.S. Even just referring to space as a “frontier,” final or otherwise, is to see it with a Space Western POV.

What was your first introduction to Firefly ?

Joss took me along with him when he ran an errand during the run of Buffy, and on the way he laid out an idea he had for a new show. It told me forever to really grok what he was talking about — I was so absolutely certain that the heart of the show was going to be about interactions with aliens that I simply couldn’t absorb what he was seeing for the longest time.

What do you think the attraction is to Space Westerns ?

Space is so unimaginable, so unfathomably large and mysterious that I think tying it down to a kind of real historical framework helps make it more understandable. It makes it seem individually attainable, too. We can “see” ourselves, our tiny selves, pointing a wagon westward and heading out across a plain more easily than we can imagine blasting into outer space.

Let me take you way back : In 1996 you wrote a Star Trek : Deep Space 9 episode entitled “Accession.” What inspired you to pitch to Star Trek ?

That DS9 episode was something I did in the middle of my sitcom career during a scary year in which I was not hired by a show. I had met with some success and a warm welcome from Star Trek : The Next Generation years before (1990, 1991‑ish), so when I was in need, they were the ones I called. Someone there remembered me and got me back onto the pitching roster at the then‑current Trek incarnation. I was very fortunate that they liked an idea I suggested in which someone else steps forward as the “Emissary” and Sisko steps down in relief. That notion developed into Accession. The whole Trek experience, at TNG and DS9, was incredibly positive. Thank you, Star Trek !

For the rest of the interview, which includes a discussion on BSG & future projects, go to: http://www.spacewesterns.com/articles/37/

BtVS & Firefly to be available through Vudu digital download service

From Hollywoodreporter.com

BtVS & Firefly to be available through Vudu digital download service

Fox TV fare on sale at Vudu

NEW YORK — Digital download service Vudu will begin selling "24," "Prison Break," "NYPD Blue" and other 20th Century Fox Television titles in beta mode using its set-top box technology, the company is set to announce Tuesday.

Before the announcement, Vudu had only made films available for paid download. The company has partnered with all the major studios and 22 independent and international film distributors to make more than 5,000 titles available.

The company is now testing download-to-own TV shows at $1.99 per episode with the initial offering featuring only shows from News Corp.’s 20th Century Fox.

Included in the offering are several shows no longer on air : "Lost in Space," "Arrested Development," "NYPD Blue," "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Firefly" alongside such current shows as "Family Guy," "24," "Prison Break," "Shark," "My Name Is Earl," "The Riches" and "The Shield."

A Vudu spokeswoman said "multiple episodes per season" will be available in the beta test with an expanded TV slate coming in 2008.

Vudu said last month that it partnered with Paramount, Universal and Lionsgate to deliver HD titles on a VOD basis. In the first implementation of this deal, the company has made Universal’s "The Bourne Ultimatum" available for HD download today day-and-date with its DVD release.

The Vudu box, which utilizes peer-to-peer technology, went on sale in October. It connects to the Internet and requires no software downloads.

Joss Whedon talks to Ign.com about ME day

From Ign.com -

Joss Whedon talks to Ign.com about ME day

US, December 10, 2007 - This past Friday was "Mutant Enemy Day" on the picket lines during the ongoing Writers Guild strike, named in honor of Joss Whedon’s production company. Whedon, the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and Firefly, was joined by writers from all of those aforementioned shows — including Tim Minear, Marti Noxon, Jane Espenson, David Fury, Doug Petrie, Ben Edlund, Brett Matthews, Drew Goddard and more — not to mention a large collection of fans (some of whom had flown from around the world to show support) and many notable actors from Whedon’s work, including Nathan Fillion, Nicholas Brendon, Summer Glau, Eliza Dushku, J. August Richards, Juliet Landau, Alan Tudyk, Morena Baccarin, J. August Richards and more. According to fan reports, Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, began the day by bringing 1000 donuts to those in attendance.

The group, all-told about 400 people, walked the picket line in front of the 20th Century Fox Lot, the studio who have produced all of Whedon’s TV series. Summer Glau told me her presence there that day began with an email from Whedon, which she said "Was a very funny email, like it always is. He writes great emails… he’s an amazing writer ! Even his emails are brilliant." Glau added "I didn’t know quite what to picture. I just knew that he was going to be here. So I was surprised the huge, huge crowd that showed up today."

Glau said that stopping production on her new series Terminator : The Sarah Connor Chronicles has "been heartbreaking. No one wants to stop working. We love what we do. This is just a necessary step for us. We’ll support the writers as long as they are striking." Glau noted she had been glad to see fans showing such understanding about the strike, saying "I think everyone’s been really positive and hopeful and it’s wonderful to see how many people showed up to support us."

Eliza Dushku also told me she was glad to see so many fans joining the writers and actors on the picket line, remarking "I think it’s impressive and it’s strong and it’s really showing what these people are made of. Their support is deep that they’ll walk the walk. We all will." Duskhu said that for her the strike was about the writers "Being taken care of properly in the fairest way, so we’ll stand here and support that as long as it takes."

As for TV fans upset about the strike and their shows not being on the air, Dushku said she hoped they would understand that "You don’t have shows without writers and writers can’t live without their respect and the compensation and their rights. So we gotta join together and remember that if it were actors we would hope that there would be a show of support and hopefully everyone will understand."

I also spoke to Whedon himself, to get his thoughts on the strike, the studios, the fans, and even a few comments about Dollhouse, the new series Whedon will be writing for Eliza Dushku whenever the strike ends. It should be noted that this interview was conducted a few hours before word came down that negotiations between the writers (the WGA) and the studios (the AMPTP) had completely collapsed once more.

IGN TV : You know you have a lot of loyal fans, but I assume it feels particularly good to see them out in support of something like this.

Joss Whedon : It doesn’t hurt !

IGN TV : After perhaps some initial confusion over what the strike was about, do you feel like the fans understand the crux of the issues going on now ?

Whedon : The fans from day one have understood what this is about. There’s never been any "Where’s our shows ? Why are you guys doing this ?" They understand that we’re reacting to an impossible situation. They also understand that making a show or a film is collaboration between the artists and the fans. They come out and support not just with us but with each other and the whole concept of an artistic community.

IGN TV : We’ve obviously heard a lot of back and forth the past week or so as negotiations resumed - "things are going good" ; things are going bad." What’s the overall vibe you’re getting ?

Whedon : Things are going bad. I kind of thought it was going to be bad. I had this conspiracy theory that the studios were just going back to the table as a show of good faith but then they offer us nothing and then say "Look, they didn’t even try", as they break off talks with us and send everybody into the holidays in fear for their jobs and their homes and their livelihoods. And that’s exactly what they’re turning out to do.

IGN TV : What do you think it will take to get things to change and to come to an agreement ?

Whedon : We have to break them. These are multi-billionaires who could give a rat’s ass about any of the issues they’re actually talking about except for one – If they can break this union, then they can break them all. If they can do that, then they can control everything. They already, thanks to the [repeal of] Fin-syn laws and all of the sort of vertical integration, control almost everything. They’re very close. They have basically one last thing to figure out how to own and rule in and we’re it. And it’s simply not going to happen. The only way we can break them is just by stopping. By being out here instead of in there. And we’ll do it. We’ll do it for a year. We’ll do it forever. We’ll do it until somebody else steps up and says "Hey, we’ll run a business a different way." We’ll work for those people instead. What you’re going to find in Hollywood is maybe a lot fewer millionaires, but a lot more working people with steady jobs, because these guys can not crush us. It will not happen.

IGN TV : If you did encounter someone saying "I just want my shows back !", what would you say to them ?

Whedon : No fan is saying that. The people who sit in front of the TV because they can’t figure out what else to do might be saying that. Fans are not saying that. Fans are getting on the internet and showing support and coming to this rally and organizing in a way that I wish I could ever. Fans are the people who really, absolutely get it. And so not one of them has ever said to me "I’m upset that I’m not going to get to see your shows because of the strike." They say "Get what you need. Do what you have to. Make it right. And then we’ll get the show."

IGN TV : Your new show was announced about a week before this strike started. I assume you’d be working on it right now if things were different ?

Whedon : Yes, actually we’d be close to filming the first episode. But that’s not gonna happen. Nor am I secretly working on it, as many people talk about. First of all, there’s too much strike work to be done. And second of all, it doesn’t feel right. So I’m very happy to pick it up once the strike is resolved, whenever that is, but in the meantime I don’t go near it.

IGN TV : When this is all over, what can you say about Dollhouse and what it will deliver ?

Whedon : What can I say about the show ? Well, first of all, have you seen Eliza ?! It’s basically going to deliver as many different genres and as many different identities and as many different rhythms and feelings with Eliza. And that was the idea of it, was a show that would keep both of us on our toes and that would really challenge us, both in terms of storytelling and in terms of the morality of the show. It’s very dark and very weird. Eliza is a good, smart, liberal, dedicated person, who wants to make a show of substance. When we had lunch and I came up with this idea, she got it instantly. She got the humanity of it. She’s perfect for it. It’s really about showing America how much Eliza can do that she hasn’t had a chance to do yet.

IGN TV : In terms of tone, will it be similar to any of your previous work ?

Whedon : Not really. It’s different. It’s new ground, which is the only ground I should be watching, except for this ground in front of Fox, which for me right now is pretty old.

"The Psychology of Joss Whedon: An Unauthorized Exploration of Buffy, Angel, & Firefly" available for order

"The Psychology of Joss Whedon: An Unauthorized Exploration of Buffy, Angel, & Firefly" available for order

Book Description

Joss Whedon—creator of the wildly popular Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off Angel, the short-lived series Firefly, and the feature film it inspired, Serenity—takes a seat on the couch in this in-depth examination of the psychological gravity that has captivated his deeply devoted fan base. Whedon fans will enjoy a discussion of issues that are both funny and profound, from the significance of Angel’s mommy issues and the best way to conduct government experiments on vampires to what could drive a man to become a cannibalistic Reaver and the psychological impact of being one girl in all the world chosen to fight the forces of darkness.

About the Author

Joy Davidson, PhD, is a psychologist, certified sex therapist, and author who is a familiar expert guest on national television and radio, including Oprah, 20/20, CNN News, NPR, Prime Time Live, Entertainment Tonight, and Montel. She is the author of or contributor to 6 nonfiction books and the creator of multivolume self-help videos for women and couples. She is a well-known magazine and web advice columnist and appears frequently in publications such as Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, Esquire, Redbook, and Men’s Health. She lives in New York.

Amazon link is:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/1933771259tag=buffynu20&camp=0&creative=0&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=1933771259&adid=0SC10BP9B9BE6Q7M2WF8&

Usatoday.com has an exclusive excerpt from "Serenity Found"

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Usatoday.com has an exclusive excerpt from "Serenity Found"

Exclusive excerpt: ’Serenity Found’

I just posted an interview with Jane Espenson. Now here’s one essay from her book, Serenity Found: More Unauthorized Essays on Joss Whedon’s Firefly Universe. It’s written by none other than the star of the film and short-lived TV series:

"I, Malcolm"

By Nathan Fillion

Sometimes it’s hard to separate an actor from the character he plays, if for no other reason than the fact that they have a tendency to look so much alike. Sometimes actors come to resent this association with a character, and they struggle to carve out a space for themselves separate from the character, but sometimes they feel about it exactly as we all hope they would. Listen here to Nathan’s voice ... the humor, the authority. Isn’t it a little ... I mean ... isn’t it a little Mal? And isn’t that fantastic?

Somebody once asked me what it was like to be Malcolm Reynolds. Usually I get, “Why was Firefly cancelled?” and “Is there going to be another season/sequel?” But what was it like? Specifically, to be Mal? I wasn’t quite ready for it. I mean, sure, it was great. Boots. Coat. Gun. Ride horses. Shoot guns. Shoot guns at horses. Stinks like awesome. But what was it like? It was so long ago it pieces together like childhood memories, complete with those moments of clarity that suddenly strike you with, “Oh, yeah! I remember that!” and a lot more moments of, “Really? We did that? Was I drunk?” But like those childhood memories there are images and feelings that are indelible.

Getting the job was stressful. I’m convinced the process of auditioning is designed to weed out the weak. Yet somehow, I still got it. There was the other actor up for the role, of whom I’m a huge fan. There was the fact I had to do the audition four or five times. There was the huge stack of contracts in triplicate to sign, potentially spelling out how I was going to spend the next seven years—or eight months, whatever the case may be. The stakes continue to rise throughout the process. Actors get knocked out of the mix, narrowing the choices. More and more faces show up to watch you pretend to be a spaceman. The offices get bigger and there’s a special room for the audition. Meetings are held afterward while you wait outside. Trying to keep your cool during this traumatic affair is down to the individual, because there isn’t anything that anybody can say to make it any easier. You are on your own. But I wanted this part badly. All the things we love about Mal were staring me in the face. The humour (spelled that way on purpose for Canadians), the questionable morality, the darkness, the anger, the almost imperceptible softness. It was all just out of reach like some toy in a window at Christmas, with Tiny Tim on the cold side, fogging up the glass. Or a brand new crutch or something. A gold crutch. No, a cure. Anyhow, it’s safe to say the part was all I wanted.

So, there I was. Going to get a tour from Joss of the not-yet-finished ship. I met him at the Firefly production office (which weren’t the offices we eventually wound up in) with the show logo on the door (which wasn’t the logo we eventually used). The sound stages were huge, and we had three. The ship was enormous and incomplete. Strange, how it first struck me as so bizarre and unreal, and then later became a home. Know this: I had never been on an hour-long, single-camera show. The entire process, the scope alone was new to me and very impressive. They had built an entirely new world, made up of scraps from the past and future. There were a lot of people who put a lot of work into making the quality of that show what it was. As the show went on, I quickly understood how much I depended on those motivated, creative, hard-working ladies and bastards (typed with love, you bastards). Certainly, I was a small cog in a smooth-running (almost all the time) machine that produced product. Bottled sunshine? White lightning? Liquid gold? Red kryptonite? Call it what you will, it was great, it had kick, and would probably take ten years off Superman’s life.

The first scene we shot was up on the catwalks in the cargo bay. It was me and Sean. This was it. The ship was ready. The lights were moody and the camera was running. Nobody really knew anybody yet. I knew my lines, but I didn’t have the handle on Mal that I have now. I was about to work with Joss. All the questions I had asked myself—“Will everyone get along? What will they be like to work with? Will I get along with Joss? Will people like it?” — were about to be answered. Then there are the questions you never think to ask that get answered. You learn these things as you go. It wasn’t ’till “Our Mrs. Reynolds” that I knew Mal was a rancher. Yet it wasn’t two days before I knew I could go to the little lunch camper out back and build a sandwich that would embarrass Dagwood. These things come with time. Until you experience them, the best you can do is smooth the gaps between the transitions, or bring lunch from home.

Certainly, there are a lot of technical considerations when acting on camera versus on stage. Three years of working with talented, seasoned professionals on daytime taught me how to ignore, or work with, the distraction of the technical. (Thanks, all of you at OLTL.) Past that, I got to live a self-centered kind of fantasy. As the captain, I got to be the center of my own universe. I got to be closed off, angry, bitter, and enraged. I fought my demons in bars, punished myself in fights I couldn’t win, trying to feel something. In my daily life, I don’t get the opportunity to swing myself onto a horse and feed my murderous energy into the animal for a primal burst of speeding revenge. Yet how many countless hours of my life did I spend daydreaming of heroic exploits? I needed that in my real life. I think maybe we all do, and sadly, few get the chance. When I played Mal, I wasn’t playing me, I was playing me if I had been through what Mal had been through. I don’t think of myself as a hard man, or closed-off, but I know this: Mal and I have a very similar sense of justice. I think comic books gave that to me, along with an over-developed sense of vengeance. I felt Malcolm was crusty, yes, but on the right track. More important than believing Mal was right, was knowing that Mal believes he is right.

I remember feeling like I owned the ship. When I was in costume and could find a moment on one of her two sets (lunch was the best time), I’d walk Serenity and just be Mal. I’d take in all her details. Nothing would escape my attention. It was just like the feeling I had for my 1975 Cadillac Eldorado, if the Caddy had somehow saved my life. I remember Serenity’s switches, lights, cables, and wires. I would try to fix things that were broken (try). I had a place at the head of the table. Either end, too. Other people could sit there, but it was understood that it was my place. ’Least in my mind. I had a rocker. I’d sit in it and space out in Mal’s head. Very cathartic. The ship had a smell. Dusty garage and bitter metal, like a penny. As for what she tasted like, you’d have to ask Richard Brooks.

The cast ... I can’t say enough. The rest of the cast played a huge role in how I played Mal. By virtue of my role, I got to work with everyone. Sometimes all together, but mostly just one or a few at a time. What satisfied, and impressed, me most was the process of discovery. Putting a scene together with actors who could find the real life, the moments that define characters and the relationships that live between the lines. I didn’t just watch; I was living it. Right there. Though for only moments at a time, I could be Mal. I couldn’t help it. You’ve got everyone dressed up, in the cargo bay, looking at, talking to, and treating me like I’m the captain. There were strange moments, weird suspended seconds when I bought it all. If you have ever watched an episode and felt a connection with a character, felt he was speaking to you, or for a moment were somehow transported and felt you were on the ship listening to the conversation beside you — that’s the feeling. Those instants that take you away, pull you in. I WAS THERE. I lived those moments. I got my ass saved by Zoe so many times. I mooned over Inara. I hit Jayne with a wrench. There were moments I could believe it. You’d have believed it, too, thanks to Joss. Looking at Kaylee, I could tell what kind of man Mal was. Speaking to Zoe, I could tell what kind of leader Mal was. Arguing with Wash and Jayne, I knew the limits of Mal’s patience. They made me Mal. Looking back, I know now that everyone in the cast was, in essence, his or her character. What makes Jayne so Jayne, is that Adam is a Jayne. Jewel is a free spirit who was cast as a free spirit. Alan is a clever smart ass who questions authority. Ron once gave me the shirt off his back (true story — still a favorite of mine), Gina is alluring and powerful, Morena is elegant, Summer is grace, Sean owes me money. Off camera, I was able to spend my days with these people, and on camera, with their characters. I got to have them as friends twice. And I have been accused of being the leader when we were just hanging around. I’ve thought long and hard about this, because I feel it makes me sound pretty cool, but I want to be accurate. It is true that occasions arose when we wanted to spend some time together as a family — both cast and crew — be it a lunch date or a more serious shindig over the weekend. Sometimes I would watch as folks tried to agree on a time and a place, maybe an activity. As it can sometimes be when trying to organize ten or more people, it would get a little complicated, or no decision would be made at all. I remember taking the helm a little bit as far as saying, “We’re going to this restaurant at this time.” Or, “My house, Saturday.” But that was the extent of it, really. So, it wasn’t so much that the captain-y thing rolled over into my real life. More so, I simply had the desire to be with these people outside of work. I just wanted to continue connecting. I just wanted to be with my friends. I wanted them around me. I wanted to be around them. You’ve seen them. Can you blame me?

So, we’ve established it was great for me. The whole thing, heartbreak included. Super duper, really. (Realizing now I haven’t the words to adequately describe the experience in a sentence, so: super duper.) I’ve also seen how the show has affected others. At unexpected times and strange places people reach out to me. They speak of Firefly with reverence, as a dear departed friend we had in common who did so much for them and died far too young. More than any other work I’ve done, I’ve seen that people are touched by Firefly. There is something in those characters that people identify with. I see it in people’s faces when they try to convey to me why or how it hit home for them. A specific episode, a moment, or a line that was particularly truthsome to them. Others have trouble putting their finger on it, but I see in their eyes a little Firefly burning. I understand, my friend. You ask me? It’s family. A group of people who, though flawed, would cross through hell for each other. For you. You’re feeling what I was feeling. I understand. I was the captain.

It was only a short time, but Firefly changed me. It changed my whole life. Rotten it’s over? Sure. Regrets? No. No way. What happened, happened. Anything bitter made everything else all the sweeter. I fought the good fight. I was a part of something that resonated with people, and still does. I made lifelong friends who have improved the quality of my life. So, what was it like to be Mal? I don’t know. ... I guess, imagine wanting, all your life, to be able to fly. Daydreaming about it, fantasizing about it. Imagine that flying was all you ever wanted. Then, for a few months, somebody gave you wings. ... Ooo. That’s good. I’m going to write that down.

Nathan Fillion has permission to participate in your book, and is allowed to go on any field trips that may be included with promoting it. We are so happy that his university education was not for naught. He has had so much fun with that show and we can’t believe how it just keeps popping up again and again! Let us know if there is anything else you need, and please make sure Nathan eats the apple we put in his lunch and don’t let him lose his mittens.

— Cookie Fillion

Excerpted with permission from Serenity Found: More Unauthorized Essays on Joss Whedon’s Firefly Universe edited by Jane Espenson (Benbella, $17.95).