Dr. Jokes

Harold Ramis' résumé reads like a film festival of generation-defining comedies. As writer, director or actor (or some combination), he has been involved in Animal House, Meatballs, National Lampoon's Vacation, Caddyshack (I and II). Stripes, Ghostbusters (I and II), Back to School, Multiplicity, Groundhog Day and Analyze This. His latest movie is Bedazzled, a remake of the 1967 original that starred Peter Cook as the devil and Dudley Moore as the poor schlep who sells his soul for the love of a girl. This time Brendan Fraser is the hapless fellow, Frances O'Connor his object of desire, and Elizabeth Hurley brings out the devil in herself and us.

[Q] Playboy: Let's start by revealing that you began your career at Playboy, editing the Party Jokes page. You later did a few Playboy Interviews. Can we take credit for your success?

[A] Ramis: Sure!

[Q] Playboy: You interviewed Dick Cavett, Rowan and Martin and Tiny Tim. How pleased are you that you've had a longer career than any of your subjects?

[A] Ramis: [Chuckles] When I interviewed Dick Cavett I thought, Gee, I want Dick Cavett to interview me. Years later, when he had a show on CNBC, he did. I reminded him of the Playboy Interview and he remembered my somehow driving him crazy. But I suppose being interviewed for eight hours would drive anyone crazy.

[Q] Playboy: We'll try to keep it short.

[A] Ramis: Thanks, I may have to get back to directing this movie at any moment.

[Q] Playboy: That would be your latest film, Bedazzled, starring Brendan Fraser and Elizabeth Hurley. Why did you want to remake the 1967 original?

[A] Ramis: I saw it when it came out. I was a huge fan of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore. I loved their smart stuff, especially Beyond the Fringe. Bedazzled was also a treat. Years later I mentioned it to Trevor Albert, who has been my partner for 21 years, and after we made a deal at Fox, he found out they had the rights and suggested trying to remake it.

[Q] Playboy: In the movie, the main character gets seven wishes. If you had seven wishes now, what would they be?

[A] Ramis: [Chuckles] It goes back to Groundhog Day. It would be cool to do whatever I wanted to do--without consequences.

[Q] Playboy: For instance?

[A] Ramis: I wish I could eat anything I want and not gain weight--but that's pretty shallow [laughs]. Sometimes I wish I could go back to being 21, knowing what I know now.

[Q] Playboy: If you knew then what you know now, what would you know?

[A] Ramis: What to worry about and what not to worry about, that's for sure.

I feel I've already fulfilled the big desires and sampled enough of the things a lot of people might wish for. I know what it's like to have money--more money than I ever thought I would have, though not as much, obviously, as some people have. And I'm well known enough to understand what that's all about. And I indulged myself in lots of, uh, fantasy behavior when I was younger. [Pauses] I wish I could fly unaided.

[Q] Playboy: You'd rather fly than be invisible?

[A] Ramis: Those are both good.

[Q] Playboy: Why cast a woman as the devil?

[A] Ramis: I was lying in bed with my wife, saying, "who could replace Peter Cook today?" She said, "Why can't the devil be a woman?" That's her knee-jerk response to all questions that have even a conceivable feminist answer [laughs]. I thought. Well, why not? Then, the more I played with the concept, it occurred to me that more than half the people I mentioned Bedazzled to only remember Racquel Welch in it. She had about two minutes of screen time, in red lingerie, playing one of the seven deadly sins--lust. Yet it made more of an impact on people than anything else in the film.

[Q] Playboy: Name your seven ideal Jeopardy categories.

[A] Ramis: One is Foods That End in "Hamburger." What else? The Films of Harold Ramis. I've wanted to be on Celebrity Jeopardy. I watched them tape once. Alex Trebek actually greeted me from the stage: "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a distinguished guest, one of the Ghostbusters." In front of the audience, he asked (continued on page 158)Harold Ramis(continued from page 92) me where all that scientific jargon in Ghostbusters came from. He asked, "Was it real?" I said, "No, Danny Aykroyd and I made it all up." He laughed and said, "We should try to get you on Celebrity Jeopardy sometime." I said, "I'd love to, Alex!" And I'm still waiting. But someone told me that Merv Griffin has a three-second test for Celebrity Jeopardy. If he can't think of who you are in three seconds, you're not famous enough to be on the show. The other day I was mistaken for Eugene Levy. Some woman walked up and told me I was great in American Pie.

[Q] Playboy: Would you sell your soul to the devil?

[A] Ramis: I've had many opportunities. Maybe I already have, for fame and fortune.

[Q] Playboy: How deep are you into the metaphysical--in other words, psychics?

[A] Ramis: My first wife was so passionate about it that I was always in the role of skeptic--and yet I went with her to various things and sampled it enough to at least get a funny take on it. [Pauses] Once, I was in a chat room and someone, thinking I was a psychic, wrote, "Are you reading today?" I wrote, "Yes, I am." Using what I'd learned, I wrote, "Get a metal object you've owned for a long time--a ring, a watch, a piece of jewelry. Hold it in your right hand. Close your eyes. Take a deep, cleansing breath." The woman said, "All right." I wrote, "I see a troubled marriage," figuring I can't miss. How could you miss with that? She wrote, "Yes!"--capital letters, exclamation mark. I was in. I could have said anything at that point. She wanted me to be right. I wrote, "Not necessarily your own?" She said, "No, no, it's mine!" It was a way for her to confess. Then I felt guilty. I thought, Oh my God, this woman has invested her belief in me, and now I have to leave her with something useful. I tried to empower her. I said she didn't have to stay in a bad situation, that if she took responsibility for her situation, things could work out.

[Q] Playboy: Will there be a Ghostbusters III?

[A] Ramis: Danny and I talked a lot about it, and actually did some real work. The studio was ready to do it. We were going to introduce new Ghostbusters. Generation X Ghostbusters. Y2K Ghostbusters. We'd be the mentors, the company execs. But the deal was problematic.

[Q] Playboy: One can divide your writing and directing career into at least two significant phases. In the first you took on iconic subjects: fraternities, camp, the armed services, ghosts, golf--

[A] Ramis: Those were the institutional comedies, yeah.

[Q] Playboy: And now it's--

[A] Ramis: The wacky redemption comedies. Man's search for meaning.

[Q] Playboy: Exactly. The comedies of self-discovery. Groundhog Day, Analyze This, Multiplicity, Bedazzled. What happened?

[A] Ramis: My daughter's now 23. She graduated from college saying she believed in armed struggle and armed revolution. I thought back: When I was that age we wanted to revolt against the establishment. At 23, you're supposed to. When you're young you tend to blame society.

But as a function of getting older, in hand with certain philosophies that I now embrace, I began taking personal responsibility for what happens in my life, and that became the issue. For me it's come down to a couple of really big areas or concepts. One is a kind of lazy man's Buddhism. The other is an existential view of life that I derived from some of the reading I did for Analyze This. It resonated with me.

[Q] Playboy: What's the syllabus?

[A] Ramis: I read a fair amount of existential psychotherapy by this guy Irvin Yalom. And I was sent books--Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning and a really good book by a shrink named Allen Wheelis, Quest for Identity.

The Wheelis book talks about two processes operating in society. One is the institutional process, which is our reliance on established orders, the historical continuity of institutions, rules, knowledge and lore from the past. And then there's the instrumental process, which is invention, discovery, growth. These two are at odds. People were much more sure of things when they relied heavily on the institutional process. Institutions are about certainty. Rodney Dangerfield used to say he wished he was born Gentile and stupid. He'd be a lot happier and he could believe in something. The more we learn about ourselves, the less certain we are.

[Q] Playboy: How does all this influence your directing?

[A] Ramis: It's interesting. Most people think being a director requires a lot of certainty. Because you're in authority, people expect you to behave like you know. I found early on that don't-know is the place to start. The more I feel I'm supposed to know, or need to know, the more anxious I get. It's much easier to say I don't know and then explore and consult.

[Q] Playboy: Fine for you, but what about the people who depend on you to know? Cameramen, lighting guys, producers, actors?

[A] Ramis: Yeah, but that's just about image and ego and vanity. So what? I love shocking the crew by saying, "I don't have a fucking clue what to do at this point." They laugh. They like that. And I have a great alliance with the actors. From the beginning, I make it clear that we're on a journey of discovery together, and that they will be comfortable because I won't make them do anything they're not comfortable with.

In Bedazzled I articulate the existential realities. Brendan, under the influence of his wish to be brilliant, makes a speech where he says, "Every time I reread Camus and Sartre, I kept thinking, Why does the existential dilemma have to be so damn bleak? Yes, we're alone in the universe. Yes, life is meaningless and death is inevitable. But is that necessarily so depressing?"

[Q] Playboy: That is funny.

[A] Ramis: [Chuckles] He's speaking for me directly there. And it comes out comedic because that's my fundamental view of life. And because those questions engage me, I figure, Why not for now let them be the content? The idea is just to make it entertaining.

[Q] Playboy: Do you feel as if you're sneaking in the heavy stuff?

[A] Ramis: Not really. It's no more snuck in than in Groundhog Day where you go on a journey with Bill Murray. But it's a journey of the spirit, not necessarily of the events. The events don't tell the story; it's his growth that tells the story.

[Q] Playboy: As you've moved on, a new generation of comic filmmakers has filled the gap with raunchier stuff. Do you feel old?

[A] Ramis: No, timeless [laughs]. I've always thought of myself as one of the kids, though every time I see a profile on the Farrellys or Adam Sandler, they're always saying that when they were 12, they saw Caddyshack or Animal House.

[Q] Playboy: Do you see your stuff in their movies?

[A] Ramis: Oh yeah. They don't make a secret of it, either. About six years ago I did a little acting in the movie Airheads. Adam Sandler was in it with Steve Buscemi and Brendan. Adam didn't exactly follow me around, but he spent a fair amount of time talking about Caddyshack and how he wanted to do a movie just like it. Then he did Happy Gilmore. That feels pretty good. I accept that.

[Q] Playboy: Do you like the recent successful gross-out comedies American Pie and There's Something About Mary?

[A] Ramis: American Pie had some cute moments. I enjoyed it, but not a lot. I liked South Park a lot. I get the feeling Trey Parker and Matt Stone are very smart. You know that they crafted their intentions and it's not just accidental. I thought they made a good point and made it strongly, and it was edgy. I'm not so interested in safe genre movies that seem to be dull versions of something we've already seen a hundred times--even though they're no worse than the ones we made before. The problem is that after Animal House, the style of that film became the content of those that tried to trade on its success. They mistook the style for the content. My favorite new cliché--one I came up with--is that there are more good-looking movies than good movies.

[Q] Playboy: As opposed to this being some golden age of comedies?

[A] Ramis: I don't think so. I believe things were never any better. Whenever people mention a golden age, I think they've lost some brain cells. When we did our early movies, someone actually wrote, "If this is the New Hollywood, bring back the Old Hollywood." It's just generational. Was 1939 really such a great year for movies? People celebrate the past. If they made 350 Hollywood movies in 1940, how many were good? Fifteen? Aren't there 15 good movies this year? Sure.

[Q] Playboy: Would you want to direct Jim Carrey?

[A] Ramis: Yeah, I would. I hear from his guys, "You're great, you're great, you're great," but it hasn't turned into any real work yet.

[Q] Playboy: Would you take him in a new direction?

[A] Ramis: It's not that. Actors are at the mercy of the scripts that are written. Directors can only do the things that they're offered or that they generate. The only real power you have is to not work. You can see where careers were ruined because people didn't have the courage to not work. They felt they had to be out there, and then did something unworthy. Chevy Chase probably hurt himself a lot doing that. John Candy, too. But it's hard to walk away. Actors are always afraid that they'll never work again.

[Q] Playboy: How do you get Bill Murray to make a movie?

[A] Ramis: These days? I don't try. I don't know who speaks for him anymore. He's very picky about the stuff he does. He made a couple of comedies after Groundhog Day that didn't work out well. He co-directed, with Howard Franklin, Quick Change; then he made Larger Than Life, an elephant movie. The other one was The Man Who Knew Too Little. I enjoyed that one. Maybe he looks better and better to the studios as a well-known supporting cameo or feature role. I think he's made some interesting choices in the last few years. I saw Cradle Will Rock and I liked Rushmore and Wild Things a lot. Those were good choices for him. Charlie's Angels, I don't know. He's Bosley. But as far as his carrying a comedy by himself these days--the audience is so young, and to them, Bill's a guy who was on Saturday Night Live before they were even born.

[Q] Playboy: Will you work together again?

[A] Ramis: I don't know. We don't really have a social relationship. We drifted apart after Groundhog Day. I don't even know what he thinks about what I do. He may think I'm a total sellout.

[Q] Playboy: But you got on well during Groundhog Day.

[A] Ramis: Uh, it was tough. I think he felt embattled on a lot of fronts. There were big changes in his personal life happening at that time. His marriage ended and a new one began during that film, and I think he felt kind of isolated from the production. He was never happy. He seemed to be suffering a lot. I think he was convinced it wasn't going to be good and that he wasn't going to be good in it. Then I saw him on Larry King saying that it's probably the best work he'll ever do. [Pauses] He went on to put the capper on my career and say it's the best work I'll ever do [laughs].

[Q] Playboy: On Analyze This, you directed De Niro and Crystal. What's it like to direct someone who has directed?

[A] Ramis: Winning Billy's respect from the outset was important. In our first meeting I assured him, "Comedy is the god I serve, and the movie will be funny." I think it showed a great generosity of spirit on his part to accept that his role as the shrink had to be more laid-back. It forced him to be much more selective about where he put his energy when it was appropriate to be funny.

[Q] Playboy: What about De Niro? Was his playing a mobster--like Brando doing The Freshman--a parody?

[A] Ramis: I don't think so. Brando has always expressed a lot of contempt for his own profession, and there's a lot of self-loathing in that. I think De Niro is proud to be an actor, loves his characters and takes them all seriously. I believe that more than anything he was looking in Analyze This for a character he could play with conviction, who would be funny not because Bob would be delivering jokes but because the behavior and the context would be funny.

[Q] Playboy: Did you do any heavy preparation for that film?

[A] Ramis: I worked entirely from reality, both in Mafia history and in the psychological underpinnings of an anxiety disorder. It wasn't clear to me that anyone who had written earlier drafts of the movie had ever seen a panic attack. I've driven people with panic attacks to the emergency room; I worked in a locked psychiatric ward for seven months. I'd been to a variety of shrinks. I also know a lot of shrinks.

[Q] Playboy: Why is the mixture of the mob and mental health suddenly part of the zeitgeist again?

[A] Ramis: A friend of mine is a philosophy professor who specializes in gender studies. He wrote an article called "Diminished Masculinities in Analyze This and The Sopranos." His premise was that both the movie and The Sopranos are correctly describing something that's really happening, which is the breakdown of the institutional process in the Mafia. The old values are dying. The old-style Mafia boss is a dinosaur in this world of uncertainty and neurosis and anxiety and depression. The laws were changed to give the government extraordinary power over organized crime and, as is stated at the beginning of Analyze This, it's a new century. You've got to change with the times, and you've got a new mafioso to go with it.

[Q] Playboy: A few years ago you joined a ritual men's group. Why? Do you still take part?

[A] Ramis: No. It came out of seeing Robert Bly on a Bill Moyers program, and then reading some Bly stuff. Earlier I'd read stuff by Michael Ventura on Bly in LA Weekly. He said some great things about fathering, the absence of initiation rituals in our society, young men trying to initiate themselves in the form of gang behavior, the absence of mentoring in society. I went to a Bly lecture, and it had an amazing kind of energy. I had not seen 800 men in an auditorium since my Army induction physical or since shooting Stripes.

[Q] Playboy: What was it like?

[A] Ramis: I'd been so conditioned to being in situations where you choose carefully who you're with--Is he cool? Will people think I'm cool for being in this group?--and here I was, with a random group of men I had no control over. We were in listening mode. There's no cross talk. There's no dialogue. Men usually seek power in groups by dominating the group, by talking more than the other guy, by coming up with the answer. There were no answers in this group. You pass an object and whoever's holding the object gets to talk. Everyone else shuts up and listens. And you don't speak about the others. You speak only about yourself. That was unfamiliar to me. Being in the group took me out of myself. I ended up realizing how much I had in common with the other men. Of course, we were all white and within a narrow age range, and we all lived on the west side of LA. It's not like we were embracing our African brothers or anything. We would have Native Americans come in occasionally and drum with us or whatever. We did drum.

[Q] Playboy: Do you still drum?

[A] Ramis: Yes. That's the legacy of the men's group: African drumming. I have a drum; my wife, Erica, has a drum; my son, Julian, has a drum. I have lots of percussion in my living room. Someone starts a rhythm and everyone, of all ages, gets in. Eventually everyone's laughing and people you've never even seen move off a sofa are up and inventing some kind of weird folk dance.

[Q] Playboy: Do you dance?

[A] Ramis: I just drum [laughs].

Things were never any better. Whenever people mention a golden age, I think they've lost some brain cells.