Four Ways to Ruin an Interview With Woody Harrelson

A deep dive into how a celebrity interview can self-destruct

There’s something inherently false about a celebrity interview. Like most interactions between human beings, famous people aren’t immediately comfortable talking to strangers and can’t easily be coaxed into sharing intimate details about their lives with somebody they’ve known for just a few minutes.

Several years ago, I was invited to interview Woody Harrelson at the Savannah Film Festival in Georgia. He showed up late and was briefly distracted by an art student sitting nearby, putting the finishing touches on a drawing of a guy stuffing a synthesizer keyboard into his mouth. Harrelson was transfixed by the illustration. “That is so cool,” he declared repeatedly.

The student was understandably nonplussed by Harrelson’s attention. “What are the odds that I’d wake up today and see Woody Harrelson?” he asked, tittering nervously.

Harrelson smiled. “For me?” he asked. “Pretty good.”

At some point, a publicist nudged him and directed his attention towards me.

How did I screw up my interview with Woody Harrelson? Let’s count the ways…

1. Don’t Actually See His Movie, and Be Completely Uninformed About Even the Most General of Details

Eric Spitznagel: So… having a good day, Woody?

(This may seem like a blandly vague way to begin an interview, but the question was actually quite loaded. It was obvious from the moment I met Harrelson that he was stoned. Well, allegedly. I have no way of confirming this. But his eyes looked like saucers of strawberry milk, and his voice was sluggish and sleepy. Because I’m such a consummate professional, my first thought was, “I wonder if he’ll pull out a joint for me.” Which wasn’t entirely irrational. Harrelson has shared spliffs with journalists before, I can only assume because he believes it loosens him up and acts as a conversational lubricant.

But while the notion of getting stoned with weed’s most famous advocate was thrilling, it also filled with me dread. It’s been years since I was a regular abuser of marijuana. God only knows what a man of Harrelson’s clout could be holding. One hit of his private stash could be enough to melt my brain. Did I really want to get so messed up that I started asking questions like, “You wanna order a pizza and listen to some early Genesis?” But at the same time, I felt a journalistic responsibility to follow Harrelson down this rabbit hole.)

Woody Harrelson: It’s been good. Today was extraordinary. It was really just incredible. We went over to the Hunter Army Airfield and met so many cool people, so many big-hearted amazing bright lights that I just feel completely energized by it.

ES: What made you decide to visit a military base?

WH: Well, you know… because of the movie.

ES: Oh, yeah, yeah, right. The movie. (Forced laughter.) But I meant, with the movie, do you… you have some personal connection with the military? Like with your family?

WH: Well, everybody’s connected. My brother was in the Army, my dad was in the Navy. But, I’ve never really been very connected except in a really peripheral way.

(I was only two questions in and already I’d made it painfully apparent that I hadn’t seen Harrelson’s movie. He went on to name drop military bases, none of which I was familiar with. He told me about Walter Reed and Fort Dix, and each time I just shook my head in pseudo recognition. But honestly, I had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Walter Reed… is that a guy? A type of tank, maybe? Some post-interview research revealed that’s it an army medical center in Washington.

As Harrelson talked about his experiences meeting the troops, his favorite adjectives were “mind-blowing” and “powerful.” In both cases, it just made me think about marijuana again. He told me how much he respects the American soldier, partly because they put themselves in mortal danger and partly because they make no money. I wanted to make a joke about train hobos—who, if you think about it, also don’t make money and have high mortality rates—but I didn’t think the time was right.

I made a clumsy segue into a question about the Iraq War. I did this because I wanted him to think this interview was staying on topic, and I wasn’t going to ask him any of the dozens of questions about zombies that were on the crumbled-up piece of paper in my lap. I gave him a pensive, thoughtful expression that I hoped read as: “You and I are on the same page. Let’s talk about the things that really matter.”

He answered my softball questions in exactly the way you’d expect. I might as well have asked him if he was a fan of cancer.)