Audience Magazine Interview 2002

by J. Rentilly

Pretty boys fall from outer space and into the Hollywood machine every minute on the minute, set up on time-share, consignment, and a road to certain career doom and self-destruction. No names are necessary to prove this point. It is rare, that certain creature who is both a perfect physical specimen and a truly gifted artist with the ability to dig deep, go dark, really act, and act real. Rarer still, this creature has nearly infallible taste, working with filmmakers like De Niro, Scorsese, Spielberg, Hallstrom, Cameron. Many were certain that Leonardo DiCaprio would find his cozy little niche in the Hollywood pretty boy scrapheap, but by clinging to his belief in edgier, independent-minded films and being unafraid to take time out of the studio game, DiCaprio has secured himself a place in the legendary pantheon of pretty boys who act, and damn well. Think Brando. Think Dean. And then try to catch him if you can.

You have two very different films in theaters now. Tell me about the choice of following the grim and grisly Gangs of New York with the lighthearted Catch Me If You Can

I’d come off Gangs of New York, which was essentially three years ago; there was almost a year and half pre-production process of getting into character, learning about the period, working out, and then actually physically being in Rome. That took almost ten months, and it was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had as an actor. But you know you lose that sort of independent spirit in making a film, which is what I had in making Catch Me. It was like a road picture, almost. We were constantly moving from location to location and it was really intense; Steven [Spielberg] wanted the pacing of the movie to reflect the real Frank Abagnale’s real life and how he constantly had to use his instincts as an “actor” to get out of the situations he was thrown into. So they were much different filmmaking experiences and I often get asked, “What’s the difference or what are the similarities between Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg and their directing styles?” And my answer to that is that I wouldn’t know because I haven’t worked on an independent-style film with Scorsese and I haven’t worked on an epic with Spielberg. So I don’t know. They’re both great masters and they both know what they’re doing, that’s for sure.

You’ve played a lot of edgy, dark characters in indie films. Catch Me is not that kind of film. Your portrayal of Frank Abagnale is not those characters. What drew you to this film?

Quite simply, that the script read like wildfire. It was one of those things where as an actor being able to play the role, it really is a dream come true. I was an actor playing another actor and I think that Steven and Tom [Hanks] both got attached to the project in the same way. They just read the script and were so compelled to tell the story and it was such a unique story—unlike anything they’d ever heard of before—and they wanted to be part of the project. But for me, I got the opportunity to meet with the real Frank Abagnale and that was some of the most fascinating stuff for me because I read the script and I read the book but I really wanted to tap into his unconscious and really try to figure out what made this guy tick and what made him so engaging. I discovered that this guy was as innocent as a schoolteacher. He seemed so overwhelmingly trustworthy and whatever he said you felt completely engaged in, and he had a way of making you feel at ease, unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and that’s the direct reason why he was able to pull off what he pulled off.

There would seem to be, superficially at least, a number of similarities between being an actor and being a con man.

I think that Abagnale doesn’t even realize a lot of these mechanisms that make him tick and make him operate. For example, I asked him, “I know you put on these different costumes and you basically studied your part like an actor. If you were going to become a lawyer you passed the bar examination. If you’re a doctor you read up on the medical world. But what did you do to sort of transform yourself? Did you ever put on a different accent, for example?” And he said, “No, no, I always spoke the same and I never tried to embody a different character or anything like that.” And I said, “Okay, well, give me an example of you talking to somebody from Pan Am trying to pass a bad check or something like that.” And suddenly he brought his hand up to his ear and he started going into this southern drawl and he was like, “Hello, this is Frank Abagnale.” And he went into this southern drawl, and I said, “Do you realize what you’re doing?” And he said, “No, no.” I said, “You’re putting on a different accent; you’re trying to become a different character.” And he’s like, “No, I’m not. I’m not doing that.” And I said, “Yeah, you are.” And he said, “Well maybe, yeah.” And we started talking about it and I realized that you know that was his way of trying to take on the position of somebody else. It was very much like an actor preparing for a role. But he did it instinctively, like a great actor. It was something he never consciously knew he even did, like the really great actors.

So actors are con men?

I think so, yeah. All actors are con men absolutely. I think absolutely Frank Abagnale was an actor. But his stage was the real world, you know.

Have you ever been conned?

Have I ever been conned? Yeah. I think we all have, to some degree. Certainly I was conned a lot after my whole experience with Titanic. All of a sudden the worst of the worst become attracted to you and find a way into your life. It’s made me more skeptical about people certainly, but this just boils down to people pretending as if they’re your friends or pretending that they genuinely care about something having to do with you or your life—and they have other intentions completely.

Many people believe that Titanic was your big movie debut. Truth is, you did spectacular work in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape and This Boy’s Life. Titanic comes along and suddenly everyone’s “discovered” you and you’ve lost your anonymity—a dangerous thing for a “con man.”

I knew that after Titanic, it was such a cultural and worldwide phenomenon that people almost couldn’t help but think of me almost like a product. And I had that experience myself, feeling like a product. I went around the world and people weren’t talking to me about the acting or the film—it was me the “movie star” and it was an interesting period in my life because I didn’t want to sit there and tell them, “Well, look at my previous work; I’ve done these types of movies.” I didn’t want to have to qualify anything or justify anything. Titanic was actually somewhat of a different type of film for me at that time. It was an epic that I wanted to try and it was unique and I wanted to have that experience. And after that success, for me, it was important not to work for a while and sort of reflect on my journey as an actor and where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. And I realized that it’s remained the same: that I just want to play unique and different characters and I want to have experiences that are unforgettable and I want to be a part of films that, you know, resonate throughout time.