Hopkins' new film his "personal take on everything"

Anthony Hopkins was not in Seattle to have an old friend for dinner. At least not me.

I confronted the Oscar-winning "Silence of the Lambs" star during his visit to accept a lifetime achievement award at the Seattle International Film Festival and to screen his bizarre, hyperkinetic new film, "Slipstream." Not exactly a multiplex shoo-in, the jarring, satirical fugue state of a movie swirls around the mental disintegration of Hopkins' aging screenwriter and features a mind-bending cast that ranges from Christian Slater to Kevin McCarthy.

In a light Tom Wolfesque suit and brightly striped shirt, Hopkins, 69, spoke faintly and appeared fatigued during our cat-and-mouse game at the Fairmont Olympic. Maybe it was the questions.

Q: You frighten me.

A: Why?

Q: Not because of Hannibal Lecter or anything. Your "Slipstream" movie would make your old "Elephant Man" director David Lynch say, "Whoa, that guy's weird."

A: Yeah. David Lynch, that would be good. But I'm glad it does. Why did it frighten you?

Q: It really twisted my melon, to use a Steve McQueenism.

A: That's great. I'm really pleased with that.

Q: Your sensibility informing it: People's ignorance of history, and your belief that the world is a "butcher shop."

A: I'm going to qualify that. The whole of human history has been one of carnage and horror. The film was made as an experiment of mind, really. I just wrote this script without really intending to use it in a movie. When I finished, I thought, "Oh, this is interesting." So I sent it to Spielberg and he liked it, and he said, "Good luck with it."

It's meant to be — light-hearted sounds so silly, but it's my own personal take on everything. Everything is chaos, which is life. I'm not saying anything new. We have no guarantees. The nature of thought is always fascinating. Memory's fascinating. Dream world is fascinating. And just as I wrote it, I suppose I must have written it from some unconscious desire to write it. When the young girl, Tracy, is telling me all about the gobbledygook New Age stuff — which I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it — but she's babbling on about this, that and the other, and there's so much awful suffering in the world every moment of every day of our lives. I sometimes want to say to people — and I know them in Los Angeles — "Do you know anything about anything?" A director asked me, "Did Britain fight the Germans in the Second World War?"

Q: Who asked you that?

A: I'm not going to tell you that. But it's a director. Young director. I said, "Do you know America had a civil war?" "Yeah, I kind of knew about that. Was that Lincoln?"

Q: Someone described "Slipstream" as Salvador Dali on speed. I'd add "with a nihilistic streak."

A: This film is a lighthearted poke at the movie industry and Hollywood and everything else, because it's now become so obsessed with figures, so obsessed with stardom, so obsessed with the beautiful people and all that. And actors take themselves very seriously, and the industry takes itself very seriously, and you see directors on television talking in these endless interviews about the arc of the plot ... [makes snoring sound]. And you know, come on, it's just a movie. Christian Slater's character is a guy who takes himself too seriously, has a heart attack and dies, because he dies of seriousness.

Q: Not only did you write, direct, star in it and score it, but raised the money. Please explain your control issues.

A: We had a producer there who came up to the location, and he was very smarmy, and I noticed the way he treated the transport guy like he was nothing, and I thought, "Oh, here we go." So we had a meal in this Mexican restaurant — and he had the condescending smile — and he said, "OK, can we talk about final cut? And I wanted to talk to you about this and that." "Bye," I said, and we left, and I said, "That's it." And I said to my wife, "What are we going to do?" So we rooted around and got some private financing. But then when we started, we got our offices in L.A., and we were advised to get a bonding company that would be a kind of safety net if we ran out of steam, if we were over-budget or whatever. I said, "What if we do go over?" And they said then they have control of the film, and I said no.

Q: It seems you've reached a point where you want to enjoy yourself and you don't give a damn what people think. How did you get there?

A: Age.

Q: Assuming graciousness, gratitude and humility are givens, what's your perspective on Lifetime Achievement Awards? Apart from, "OK, now I can die."

A: Well they're fun. I got one from, what was it, the Golden Globes last year. I feel quite silly about them, the thing, oh, does it mean I'm not going to work anymore? No, it's the gravy really, it's a nice present, it's like saying you can have this award. "Oh, thank you very much." It's like when a kid has a new toy and they say "Oh!" And Chihuly's designed the [SIFF] award, so that's good. I think my life, it's all gravy now, and the sauce on top, because I've done everything I set out to do.

When you asked me about having fun — you see, I'm not on the phone to my agent every day. I sometimes never speak to him until he phones because I'm not in a hurry to go anywhere. And I paint and I write music, and it's the same thing. Really I'm not a skilled painter. I don't have training. But I sell these paintings. It's only a recent talent I discovered. And a quote from Henry Miller who said, "Paint as you like and die happy," or I think direct as you feel like and die happy. Because there's nothing to lose.

Q: Hannibal Lecter. Nixon, the killer in "Fracture." What's the secret to playing bastards so well?

A: It's a beautiful part to play. But when you're playing it you don't have to play it evil, you just play it very straight. "I just shot my wife in the head." And that's thrilling to know. "Where is she?" "She's in there, I shot her in the head. Yeah, and I think she's dead." Whatever, I can't even remember the lines now.

Travolta was very interesting. He was being interviewed the other day and the interviewer said, "You've played a number of bad parts, kind of villains. You're a nice guy and you play these bad parts but we sort of like you playing the bad guy because you see the goodness underneath." Tennessee Williams said, "Don't play it in my play as if it was written by Tennessee Williams, play it as if it were written by somebody else."

Q: I love it when people speak of themselves in the third person. Could you kill the next person who offers you fava beans? What's the most bizarre fan encounter you've had?

A: Just after "Silence of the Lambs" was released I would get a lot of fava bean jokes. I'd be in a restaurant and the waiter would come up to me and say he had some nice fava beans. I'd go [makes the famous slurping sound]. Dennis Hopper gets that from "Apocalypse Now." They say, "Hey, man, is he a kind man?" And Dennis says, "Go away, give me a break."

Q: You're a U.S. citizen now. Looks like you got under the wire with this immigration bill that would have made you cough up five grand.

A: I want to keep off all that stuff.

Q: I've always admired your distinctive voice and elocution. Would you mind reading this one small thing?

A: What's that? [He's handed the lyrics to Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby's Got Back." He examines it and hands it back.]

No.

Mark Rahner: 206-464-8259 or mrahner@seattletimes.com