Legendary Redford, 2014 SBIFF American Riviera Award

To shouts of “Robert! Robert! Robert!” from fans lining the ropes, Mr. Redford himself stepped out of a black Cadillac and into the rare public gaze Friday night.

SBIFF has honored legendary people before, but this was a big deal. For decades Robert Redford rarely has been seen in the limelight, clearly preferring the Paul Newman school of fame and celebrity: stay out of Hollywood, avoid most award shows, let’s keep it on the human side of things.

As film critic and the evening’s excellent moderator Leonard Maltin aptly said in his introduction, “He dodges the spotlight as much as he can.”

“I’ve always been shy about celebration of myself. I don’t know why,” said the understated Redford, cheerily adding, “but I’m glad I’m getting it now.”

Redford strode onstage and engaged the sold out Arlington like a man 25 years younger. Famously private, yet candid and non-sentimental, we tend to take for granted the many aspects of Robert Redford, his impact on American film and its imprint on American history (more on that later).

The man himself stated he rarely looks back, and it was apparent that he’s still vibrant, engaged and relevant. Aside from the natural creases that seem out of place on one of the most eternally youthful faces of the past half-century, it’s easy to see why we take this 77-year old for granted: he doesn’t wallow in his celebrity or the past; rather, he keeps moving.  

Receiving SBIFF’s American Riviera Award, an honor that goes to those who have made an enormous impact on American film, Redford equally fits the qualifications as an actor, producer, director and, in Maltin’s words, “incalculable contributor” to independent filmmaking (through Sundance).

Maltin did a masterful job cheerily moving the illuminating conservation along with this evidently shy actor, who began at the beginning: “I grew up in a lower working class family in LA. I didn’t excel in school. I blew a baseball scholarship because of drink. I had an outlaw sensibility, this independence. It took awhile to sort it out.”

From there, Redford says he bummed around Europe. A good sketch artist, he observed people, and drew them. “I had a dim view of acting as a kid, but something clicked inside me.” Gene Kelly’s dancing, the plot line to The Treasure of Sierra Madre, these and other performances drew him towards the theater and film.

What followed was the New York stage, television and some movie roles, where Redford honed his craft for a decade prior to his breakout roll in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Episodic roles ensued in Dr. Kildare, The Untouchables, Route 66, Perry Mason, Maverick and The Twilight Zone (where Redford noted that he was fortunate to star in what has become the most watched episode of that classic series).

It was Paul Newman, Redford said, that made the casting of him as the outlaw The Sundance Kid possible, as the studio didn’t want him in that role (they actually wanted Newman). The two would go on, of course, to star in another classic, The Sting, and become lifelong friends.

The fame of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid afforded Redford the ability to choose roles and films to his liking. He became interested in the subject of winning – in politics, business and sport – “and, to me, it’s about how you win.” Rapidly, movies in the vein followed: The Candidate, Downhill Racer, Three Days of the Condor, Brubaker, and the fan favorite The Natural. Redford notes wryly that he never got the business movie made.

Clips from The Candidate are as relevant to today’s political fabric as decades ago. Perhaps influencing his own political leanings, Redford’s career intersected with the two seminal events of the second half of 20^th century American history: the assassination of JFK and the Watergate scandal.

Staring in Broadway’s Barefoot in the Park and having to go on with the show – just two days after the president was shot in 1963 – Redford noticed that the laughter was different. “Before, it was a light, innocent laughter; afterwards, it was bigger, more harsh, less innocent. It’s not changed since, as the belief system shattered.”

The best story of the evening was his tale of how he “midwifed” All the President’s Men:

In the summer of 1972, Redford found it curious the mainstream Washington press corps was shying away from emerging rumors that there was more to the break in of the Democratic National Committee headquarters, housed in the Watergate offices; meanwhile there was an odd-ball pair of young reporters who doggedly kept posting updates every few weeks. Learning more about Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, Redford pursued producing a small film that focused on their story – less so the scandal itself. One small problem: Woodward and Bernstein wouldn’t take his calls.

After doggedly pursuing them for over a year, Redford finally had a personal encounter with Woodward, but only after meeting the reporter’s demands to first anonymously meet in a park (“How will I know who you are,” asked Redford, “You won’t, but I know who you are,” said wary Woodward), then quietly finding their way to a private hotel bar. That is where Woodward told him that he and Bernstein suspected they were under surveillance and their phones were being monitored. Finally, satisfied that Redford’s intentions were honorable, the reporters agreed to let him tell their story.

“But their book publisher, Scribner’s, wanted a lot more money for the story after their book broke, so to do this movie we had to make it a major motion picture. I felt that Dustin (Hoffman) would be the best person to play Bernstein. It took 4 years to make happen. I’m very proud of it; it’s like a museum piece now.”

With a producer’s eye for a good story, it’s not surprising that he moved to directing, and his debut, Ordinary People, led to Oscars for Best Picture and Best Director. “A surprising outcome,” said Redford, quietly.

His directing resume now includes commercial and critical successes for a wide body of work, including A River Runs Through It, The Milagro Beanfield War, The Horse Whisperer, Quiz Show and the Legend of Bagger Vance.

Maltin got it right when he suggested that Robert Redford’s ongoing success is curiosity-driven. Eagerly agreeing, the actor noted, “I’ve had an insatiable curiosity all my life.” This trait attracted him to the physically demanding role of a mountain man in 1972’s underappreciated Jeremiah Johnson, and to a lone sailor in last year’s widely acclaimed and little seen gem All Is Lost.

Incredibly, there’s no dialogue in this riveting piece of filmmaking by JC Chandor. More incredibly, the Chandor was the first filmmaker to bring a project to the Sundance Film Festival and actually ask the legendary actor to play the staring role. “After 33 years, I jumped at the chance!” joked Redford.

In the end, SBIFF’s executive director Roger Durling gave the award. Redford himself asked Durling to do the honors, so it wasn’t surprising that the poignant moment turned emotional. Durling talked about how Redford’s appearance is one of the greatest in SBIFF’s lineage of great moments, and personally added how influential the waterfall scene in Butch Cassidy was to his own life, when scared but brave outlaws decide to commit, and jump.

A clearly moved Robert Redford eloquently ended the evening: “This feels like a coming home, and while Sundance is in Utah and so forth, I’m a California kid and grew up not far from here. I spent a lot of time in Santa Barbara, surfing and spending time in these mountains. There’s the idea of community here [that Durling had mentioned], and when I came here tonight and received this incredible reception that I was not anticipating, it really warmed me. And I thought what a wonderful vibe this is; it’s genuine, full of love and it’s heartwarming. But it’s also coming from a community…you all in Santa Barbara have a wonderful community and this festival…well, I’m just really happy to be a part of it, and I can’t thank you enough for this honor. I take this honor very seriously, and with humility and, I hope, some grace.”