Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today we are undertaking
a pretty extensive examination of a career that,
well, feels less like a traditional Hollywood
path and more like some kind of carefully executed
ongoing artistic heist. We are diving deep into
the world of Crispin Hellion Glover. Yes. An
actor famous for playing these unforgettable,
really eccentric oddballs, but who fundamentally
views the mainstream film industry as like...
A gigantic ATM. Right. A cash machine. Used solely
to fund his true, deeply personal and often profoundly
bizarre independent art. That's honestly the
perfect frame for it. When you really dig into
the source material, you know, the biographical
details, the legal fights, his own directing
projects, you start to see that George McFly
or the Thin Man or even Grendel, they're just
kind of avatars, really. They generate the capital.
Our mission here is to connect those dots between
the very recognizable onscreen work and this
strange, wonderful publishing and filmmaking
empire he built. Volcanic eruptions. Exactly.
Through volcanic eruptions. It's really a study
in deliberate artistic control where basically
every paycheck gets immediately reinvested into,
well, challenging the very system that gave it
to him. It's like the ultimate act of subversion,
isn't it? It really is. He shows up, delivers
this genius performance, collects the cash. Takes
the money and runs. And runs right back to his
castle probably to make a movie about, say. Psychosexual
trauma that no studio would ever touch. Not with
a 10 -foot pole, no. So let's unpack this really
unconventional journey. Let's try and understand
how the foundations of his life kind of set him
up for this unique path. And maybe start with
one of the most interesting bits. his name right
the name it's like the theatrical destiny was
literally written onto his birth certificate
he was born in new york city 1964 moved to la
when he was about five okay and he carries the
full name crispin hellion glover and i mean both
of those names are just deeply steeped in performance
traditions okay let's break that down crispin
the first name yeah that immediately tells you
something about the cultural atmosphere he must
have grown up in right definitely He was named
after the St. Crispin's Day speech from Shakespeare's
Henry V. Yeah, one of the most famous speeches
in English literature. It's this massive literary
rallying cry. You know, the king before the Battle
of Agincourt trying to inspire his completely
outnumbered troops. To be named after that kind
of dramatic historical moment, it sort of suggests
a parental expectation of, I don't know, high
drama. Presence. Oh, for sure. And then you get
the middle name, Hellion. Right, Hellion. Which
is maybe even more telling about this sort of
intentional eccentricity. How so? Well, it wasn't
a traditional family name. It was actually adopted
by his father, the actor Bruce Glover. Okay.
Bruce decided to replace his own birth middle
name, which was the German name Herbert. Herbert.
Doesn't quite have the same ring. Not really.
Bruce Glover apparently rejected Herbert and
replaced it with Hellion, you know, a term for
a mischievous or troublesome person. And Crispin
then inherited this deliberately provocative
name as his own official middle name. It's almost
like a genetic marker for someone who's destined
to question things and cause interesting trouble.
Interesting trouble. I like that. And given that
sort of theatrical ancestry. It's not really
surprising he was immersed in the business from
day one. Not at all. His parents were both performers.
His father, Bruce Glover, a character actor,
you know, known for roles in films like Diamonds
Are Forever and Chinatown. Classics. And his
mother, Marion Elizabeth Lillian Betty Crashy,
she was an actress and a dancer who actually
retired when Crispin was born. So yeah, he basically
grew up on soundstages. The industry was his
backyard, essentially. Exactly. And he started
acting professionally remarkably early, like
13 years old. 13, wow. Yeah. His first recorded
role, which kind of demonstrates that theatrical
flair we talked about, was playing Friedrich
von Trapp in a stage production of The Sound
of Music. No kidding. With who? Alongside Florence
Henderson, believe it or not. Mrs. Brady. The
very same. That was at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion,
so a pretty high -profile start for a kid. Definitely.
And he didn't just stick to the stage for long,
did he? The sources show a really rapid move
into TV and film. Oh, yeah. Very quick. You see
him popping up in major iconic 80s sitcoms like
Happy Days and Family Ties. Right. I remember
seeing him in Family Ties. He was a working child
actor, you know, constantly auditioning, learning
the ropes, refining his craft. And those early
TV gigs, they pretty quickly led to film role.
Yeah. They translated fast. By 1983. He's in
my tutor. Then 1984, he had two pretty notable
early appearances. One was in the high school
comedy teachers. Okay. And maybe more significantly
for that oddball persona he developed, he played
the hapless Jimmy in Friday the 13th, the final
chapter. You know, the one with the corkscrew.
Oh, that scene. Yes. Yeah. Memorable. Exactly.
So these early genre roles, they kind of primed
him for the massive career defining moment that
was literally just around the corner. A moment
that would, well, dictate the entire strategy
of his professional life moving forward. And
that moment, obviously, was George McFly in Robert
Zemeckis' Back to the Future in 1985. The big
one. Made him a star overnight. huge global blockbuster.
But this is where that conventional narrative
just absolutely shatters, because for Glover,
this wasn't really a triumph. It was more of
a profound moral conflict. This is really the
absolute key to understanding his entire career.
For most actors, playing George McFly, you know,
that transition from bullied outsider to confident,
wealthy novelist, that's the ultimate. wish fulfillment
fantasy sure but Glover voiced significant objections
to the film's ending like during production okay
let's unpack that conflict what exactly was his
issue with George McFly ending up as this successful
novelist living in a huge mansion with a you
know supportive wealthy family he fundamentally
believed that the final sequence where Marty
comes back and finds his parents all successful
and rich yeah he felt it equated material reward
the nice car the big house with moral success
oh okay Glover felt that george mcfly's evolution
should have just stopped at him gaining the self
-respect to finally stand up to biff right the
psychological win exactly once the film tied
that psychological success directly to financial
reward he felt the underlying message of self
-empowerment got corrupted by well capitalist
ideology wow That is a really specific and frankly
high -minded critique for a mainstream studio
film in the mid -80s. It really is. And Zemeckis
naturally just ignored those complaints. Pretty
much. The sources confirm this artistic disagreement
and that, coupled with a later salary dispute
for the sequel. Right, the money. That led directly
to him not being in part two and part three.
Jeffrey Weissman took over the role. So that
dispute basically set his compass going forward.
Absolutely. After that massive success, Glover
didn't immediately chase more big paychecks.
Instead, his strategy became use the fame as
leverage. Find roles that deliberately question
the status quo. Roles that align with his, you
know, intellectual interests. Which led him pretty
quickly to... To one of his most iconic and disturbing
roles, Lane in River's Edge in 1986. Oh, yeah.
Bleak film. Just a stunningly bleak film about
moral apathy among suburban teens. A complete
180 from George McFly. And when those really
specific, strange, challenging roles weren't
readily available, he seemed to adopt a new,
very strategic approach. He did work exclusively
with directors whose vision he deeply respected.
Which resulted in an incredible run of collaborations
in the 90s. Yeah, with some of the greatest auteurs
working then. He was a critical piece of the
puzzle in films by David Lynch, playing that
absolutely maniacal cousin Del in Wild at Heart
in 1990. Unforgettable role. He worked with Amir
Kasturica on Arizona Dream. And let's focus on
something that often gets overlooked. His portrayal
of Andy Warhol in Oliver Stone's The Doors in
1991. That's a crucial detail, isn't it? The
sources make it clear he was the very first actor
to portray Andy Warhol in a widely released feature
film. The very first. Yeah. And that role just
perfectly encapsulates his ability to embody
these unique, often highly stylized, unsettling
cultural figures with this intense, almost alien
precision. He was building this portfolio of
roles that satisfied his own curiosity. Right.
Even if they weren't necessarily leading man
parts. Exactly. He continued that path, working
with John Borman on Where the Heart Is. And then
by the mid 90s, you see films like What's Eating
Gilbert Grape in 93, playing Bobby McBurney.
And significantly. working with Jim Jarmusch
on the brilliant Western Deadman in 1995. Great
film. You see a clear pattern. Quality directors,
strange roles, intellectual curiosity driving
the choices. But then, around the turn of the
millennium, maybe early 2000s, we see that shift
we talked about at the beginning, the financial
pivot. Right. He basically decided that funding
his own volcanic eruptions film projects would
become the absolute number one factor in accepting
any mainstream acting job. That's exactly when
the switch flips. It goes from artistic choice
primarily to logistical financing. Which is why
we suddenly see him pop up as the main high profile
antagonist in these massive studio franchises.
Yeah. The most famous example being The Thin
Man and Charlie's Angels in 2000 and then the
sequel in 2003. And this is where that control
factor becomes really fascinating again. The
sources detail that the role of The Thin Man.
It was originally a speaking role, right? He
had lines exposition. He did. It was written
with dialogue, probably to explain plot points
or whatever. But Glover went to the producers
and convinced them to eliminate virtually all
of his lines. Why would he do that? Seems counterintuitive.
Because he argued that silence would create a
far more. precise image. That's the phrase he
used. A precise image. Yeah. By removing the
exposition, the thin man transformed. He went
from being just some generic henchman into pure
silent menace. This genuinely unsettling, almost
spectral figure defined entirely by his physicality,
his weird gestures, not by any backstory dialogue.
So he maximized his artistic control over the
character while simultaneously maximizing his
paycheck. knowing exactly where that money was
headed. Precisely. That salary reportedly directly
funded the making of his feature directorial
debut. What is it? It's the perfect loop. Use
the studio system's cash to finance the anti
-studio art. It's the ultimate efficiency. He
continued this pattern starring as the protagonist
in the studio -funded remake of Willard in 2003.
Right, the rat movie. And then, in maybe the
most unexpected twist of all, he reunited with
the director who caused that initial moral conflict
years earlier. Robert Zemeckis. Oh, yeah. For
Beowulf in 2007. The irony there is just delicious.
Isn't it? He refuses to be in the Back to the
Future sequels over moral and salary issues,
only to return to Zemeckis years later using
this cutting edge performance capture technology.
Right. Playing the creature Grendel. And in typical
Glover fashion, his commitment was absolute.
He didn't just put on the mocap suit. He spoke
all of Grendel's dialogue. In old English. Seriously.
Old English. Yep. So even in this massive studio
production driven by technology, he finds a way
to choose a role that demands intense intellectual
rigor and commitment to language history. It
just reinforces that his involvement is always
tied to some kind of higher artistic challenge,
not just grabbing a simple paycheck. And that
duality, it just persists, doesn't it? He was
the menacing recurring antagonist Mr. World in
the Starz series American Gods for several years.
Yeah, from 2017 to 2021. And more recently, he
showed up in Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of
Curiosities in that episode Pickman's Model in
2022. He seems to have absolutely perfected the
art of being the recognizable face for hire while
continually feeding that volcano of his own work.
Okay, so now we really enter the heart of that
volcano. Glover established volcanic eruptions
not just as a production house for his films,
but also as the publishing arm for his books.
Right. And this is where the rules of conventional
cinema and literature are just completely thrown
out the window. And maybe the first sign of his
resistance to the system is the distribution
model itself. You, the listener, you can't just
go down to your local multiplex and see one of
his films. No. They don't get traditional releases
at all. Instead, he tours globally with them.
He hosts live screenings and performances himself.
This is so critical to understanding his approach.
The screening isn't just, you know, pressing
play. It's an event. He hosts this pre -show
called Big Slideshow based on his books. Then
he screens the film. And then afterward, he hosts
a really detailed interactive Q &A session. sometimes
for hours. It completely transforms the act of
viewing. It goes from being this passive experience
into an active, almost intimate exchange between
him, the artist, and the audience. And this unique
method is really the only way he can maintain
complete control over the context and, frankly,
the interpretation of his very challenging work.
Okay, so let's dive into the core of that directorial
output. He refers to this series as the It Trilogy.
Part one was his feature debut, What Is It?,
which came out in 2005. Right. What is it is?
Well, it's profoundly surreal, often deeply unsettling.
It's an exploration of taboos, the limitations
of expression. It's probably most infamous for
featuring a cast composed almost entirely of
actors with Down syndrome. And the content itself.
The content explores things like sexual desires,
cruelty, emotional fragility. It was absolutely
designed to challenge and provoke the audience.
That sounds incredibly ambitious, especially
for a debut feature. The sources note it took
nearly a decade. To actually conclude. Ten years.
Yeah. And made on a shockingly tiny budget, something
like one hundred and fifty thousand dollars initially,
though it expanded. He shot it on 16 millimeter
film stock. OK. Which he then intentionally had
blown up to 35 millimeter. Why do that? Is that
just budget or is there an artistic reason? It's
both, but definitely artistic to shooting on
16 millimeters cheaper. Yes. But blowing it up
to 35 millimeter often adds this really pronounced
grainy texture. It gives it a distinct. historical,
almost found footage aesthetic. It gives the
film a visual quality that really matches its
deliberately strange, kind of vintage -inspired
look. It connects the visual texture directly
to that feeling of unearthed, maybe disturbing
material. Got it. Then the second part of the
trilogy, it is fine. Everything is fine. Followed
in 2007. This film seems to have an equally complex,
maybe even more powerful backstory. Oh, definitely.
It was co -directed with David Brothers, but
the script, the core of it, came from a writer
named Stephen Seastone. And who was Steven C.
Stewart? Stewart was a Utah writer and actor
who had severe cerebral palsy. He lived confined
to a nursing home for about 10 years. Glover
came across his writing somehow and recognized
this profoundly unique, if sometimes disturbing,
voice. Stewart's writing became the basis for
this fantastical, psychosexual retelling of his
own life, exploring his hidden desires, his traumas,
his intense frustration with his physical limitations.
And the genesis of that project perfectly illustrates
that whole ATM for art idea we talked about.
Absolutely. The source is explicitly detailed
that the production of It Is Fine was funded
mostly by Glover's salary from Charlie's Angels
and other mainstream acting roles. Just think
about that for a second. The money he earned
playing a silent, leather -clad villain in this
glossy studio action movie was immediately funneled
into financing this deeply empathetic, incredibly
raw Boundary pushing film written by a man confined
by severe physical disability. It's an extraordinary
connection. And while those first two parts were
shot on 16 millimeter, the next major feature
we know about marks a shift. No, you're wrong.
Or spooky action at a distance. And you noted
this is not part three of the It trilogy. Correct.
It's a separate project. This one was shot over
a much longer period, about six years, from 2013
to 2018. And this film carries intense personal
weight, doesn't it? Because it was specifically
developed as a vehicle for Crispin and his father,
Bruce Glover, to act together. Yeah, and it ultimately
marks Bruce Glover's final film appearance, which
is quite poignant. The production also saw Crispin
transition to filming on 35mm film stock for
the first time with his own projects. That gives
it a different visual scale, a different ambition,
maybe. And that ambition extends to the setting,
too. It does. Much of the film was shot on his
own property in the Czech Republic, that famous
chateau we should probably talk about later.
Okay. And his influences for this kind of work.
You mentioned masters of challenging cinema.
Yeah, he lists people like Luis Buñuel, Rainer
Werner Fassbender, Stanley Kubrick, and Werner
Herzog. The connection to Herzog is particularly
interesting. How so? Glover actually participated
as a co -interlocutor on the special feature
DVD commentaries for two of Herzog's early, very
controversial films. Even Dwarfs Started Small
and Fata Morgana. Really? Yeah, and he used those
discussions partly to contextualize his own work,
like what is it, drawing parallels between Herzog's
boundary pushing and his own. Fascinating. Okay,
let's shift then to his publishing efforts, which
are totally intertwined with the filmmaking through
volcanic eruptions. He's published, what, 15
to 20 books? Something like that, yeah. With
these strange evocative titles like Rat Catching
and Oak Mott. But the creation process is where
the real Glover -esque genius lies. It's basically
literary collage. How does that work? He finds
these old public domain novels, often from the
19th century. For example, Rat Catching used
an 1896 book on actual rat catching, and Oakmont
used an 1868 novel. Okay, so he finds these old
books. And then he physically alters the found
text. He'll rearrange paragraphs. He blacks out
existing passages with thick marker. He adds
his own surreal, sometimes disturbing prose and
images right into the margins or even over the
existing text. So wait, he's not writing a book
in their tradition? He's taking an existing artifact
and just violently recontextualizing it. Exactly.
To create a new unsettling narrative that speaks
to his own specific obsessions. Wow. It's an
act of appropriation, but also recreation. And
these physical books, they aren't just meant
to sit silently on a shelf somewhere. Right.
They tie into the live show. Precisely. They
are essential elements in his touring big slideshow.
He reads sections aloud, often performing them
quite dramatically while projecting the modified
visual. art and text onto a screen behind him.
So the books, the films, the performance, the
production, it all feeds back into that unique,
completely self -contained ecosystem of volcanic
eruptions. Hashtag, hashtag, 5B fee, public incidents
and legal legacy, the unpredictable. OK, so given
his absolute dedication to the surreal, the provocative
and this highly controlled sense of performance.
It feels almost inevitable that his public life
has sometimes blurred those lines between genuine
eccentricity and, well, deliberate artistic performance.
And the gold standard for that ambiguity has
got to be his appearance on Late Night with David
Letterman back in 1987. Oh, yeah, the infamous
one. At the time, he was supposedly there to
promote River's Edge. Right. And you have to
remember, late night television in the late 80s
was generally much more conventional than it
is now, which made this event stand out even
more dramatically. So what happened? For anyone
who hasn't seen the clip. Glover appeared wearing
this clearly fake, terrible wig, platform shoes.
He acted incredibly erratically, seemed to be
speaking in some kind of bizarre character. And
then, most memorably, he launched this high kick
that came incredibly close to hitting Letterman
right in the face during some agitated demonstration
he was doing. The moment became instantly infamous.
Letterman was completely bewildered, clearly
unnerved. He actually walked off the set to queue
the top 10 list. We walked off. Walked right
off. It was a PR disaster for the network probably,
but it became this viral sensation decades before
viral was even a thing. And the confusion lingered
for years, right? Was this a genuine breakdown?
Was he on something mentally disturbed? Exactly.
That speculation swirled for years. But it shifted
significantly about four years later when his
film Reuben and Ed finally premiered. Okay, how
did that change things? Because in that film,
he plays the titular character Reuben Farr. And
Reuben Farr's appearance, including the bad wig,
the platform shoes, the highly agitated mannerisms,
it closely matched the behavior everyone saw
on The Letterman Show. Ah. So the theory developed.
The theory developed, yeah. And the character
Ruben Farr also appeared in Glover's own music
video for his song Clowny Clown Clown. Okay.
Which strongly suggested that the whole Letterman
appearance wasn't a breakdown at all, but a planned,
incredibly aggressive piece of performance art.
Bringing a character onto the late night stage.
Yeah, potentially to promote a film that wouldn't
even be released for several more years. But
that raises a pretty profound question, doesn't
it? If it was performance art. Doesn't that make
the line between artistic expression and, I don't
know, public integrity incredibly muddy? He deliberately
created a moment of genuine fear and confusion
on live national TV. It's a really tricky ethical
line. And Glover, decades later, he still refuses
to confirm or deny the theory. He just says he's
flattered that fans continue to speculate about
it. Of course he does. That intentional ambiguity
is just fundamental to his whole brand. He wants
the audience constantly questioning what's real
and what's the act. OK, but moving beyond maybe
performance art pranks, Glover's resist. to Hollywood
actually created a monumental, completely non
-ambiguous legal legacy that reshaped the entire
industry. Yes. This is the fallout from the Back
to the Future Part II sequel situation. This
is perhaps his single greatest unexpected contribution
to the collective rights of all actors. It's
huge. When the producers wanted George McFly
back for the sequels, they didn't want to meet
Glover's financial demands, and they probably
didn't want to deal with his artistic complaints
again. So they basically decided to just circumvent
him entirely. Okay, tell us specifically what
they did, because it sounds like it was a really
deliberate act of deceit designed to fool the
audience. It absolutely was. They took brief
original footage of Glover from the first film,
and they combined it with extensive new footage
featuring a different... actor, Jeffrey Weissman.
Playing George McFly. Playing George McFly. But
they used heavy facial prosthetics on Weissman.
They obscured him with sunglasses. They used
specific rear shots, low lighting, basically
every trick in the book to simulate Glover's
appearance without actually paying him or getting
his permission. They were literally trying to
trick the audience into thinking Kristen Glover
was performing those new scenes. 100%. And to
add insult to injury, they gave him the subtle
credit like George McFly in footage from back...
to the future without clearly indicating that
the vast majority of the performance in part
two was actually done by a double wearing prosthetics.
Unbelievable. Glover sued the producers successfully
for using his likeness without permission. And
he won. Well, it settled out of court, but he
was awarded a reported seven hundred and sixty
thousand dollars. But honestly, the actual dollar
amount is far less important than the so what
factor the precedent this set for all performers
moving forward. OK, so what was the specific
legal change that. came out of this BTTF2 lawsuit.
As a direct result of that lawsuit, new clauses
were added to the Screen Actors Guild SAG collective
bargaining agreements. What did they say? These
clauses specifically prevent producers and actors
from using those kinds of techniques, what's
often called the fake shemp technique, to reproduce
the likeness of other living actors without permission
and compensation. Okay, we should probably pause
and explain that term, fake shemp, for listeners
who might not know it. It's a piece of old Hollywood
history, isn't it? It is, yeah. The term originates
from three stooges. When one of the stooges,
Shemp Howard, died suddenly, the producers still
had contractual obligations for more shorts,
so they finished them by using body doubles,
often seen from the back, or with their faces
obscured by objects or hidden in shadows, combined
with recycled footage of the real Shemp. Gotcha.
Glover's lawsuit basically codified that this
kind of cheap trick could not be used against...
living, working actors to reproduce their image
without their consent and without paying them
for it. That is absolutely massive. The guy who
objected to the perceived moral failure of Back
to the Future's ending in 1985 ends up creating
this vital, ethical, and legal precedent that
is arguably more important now than ever before.
You're absolutely right. With the rise of deepfake
technology, generative AI, digital recreation
of actors. It's everywhere now. That specific
SAG clause, which exists because a studio tried
to avoid paying Crispin Glover what he asked
for, has become a foundational line of defense.
It protects performers' ownership of their own
visual likeness in the digital age. He resisted
Hollywood's lack of ethics on his own terms,
and in doing so, he secured a crucial right for
all his colleagues decades later. It's incredible.
That lawsuit perfectly encapsulates the strategic
impact of his often quiet but deeply principled
resistance. Hashtag, hashtag, hashtag, these
hashtags, secondary artistic outlets and private
life. Now, Glover's artistic energy, it's not
just confined to film and publishing, is it?
It flows into music as well. Yeah. And it maintains
that same level of deliberate, unsettling eccentricity.
Oh, absolutely. During a hiatus from films, he
actually released an album back in 1989. What
was it called? The title is Pure Glover. The
big problem does not equal the solution. The
solution equals let it be. Chuckles. OK, that
tracks. The album was produced by Barnes and
Barnes, who are known for their own brand of
musical oddity, like the song Fish Heads. OK,
makes sense. And the track list itself is just
an essential piece of the overall Crispin Grotto
puzzle. It features original songs like Clowny
Clown Clown, which, as we mentioned, ties back
into that Ruben Farr character from Ruben and
Ed and the Letterman appearance. It also features
readings from his art books like Rat Catching
and Oak Mott. And then there's a series of just.
Deeply strange cover songs. And these covers,
they seem designed to provoke and confuse, right?
We're talking about covering Lee Hazelwood's
These Boots Are Made For Walkin' alongside incredibly
Charles Manson song. I'll never say never to
always. Which Glover sang entirely in falsetto.
Falsetto. Wow. Yeah. So reading his recontextualized
19th century literature out loud and covering
Charles Manson in a high pitched voice. I mean,
that's a bizarre, high concept artistic menu.
It's absolutely designed to make people uncomfortable,
make them think twice about what they're consuming.
It just confirms that the performance of the
perpetual outsider is complete and permeates
everything. And he also used his music. output
as a direct tie -in for his 2003 film willard
didn't he he did he recorded a cover of the michael
jackson song ben which was the theme song from
the sequel to the original willard back in the
70s exactly the sequel was called ben so he covered
that song and he directed the music video for
it himself okay and what was the video like knowing
glover Predictably strange. It features him singing
directly to a rat, presumably Ben. But in the
background, he deliberately incorporated this
highly provocative historical imagery. Such as?
His Willard co -star, the late, great R. Lee
Ermey. Gunny Hartman. Right. Ermey appears portraying
three distinct male characters, all of whom resemble
controversial figures from mid -20th century
history. The filmmaker Erich von Straheim, the
actor Emil Jannings, and, most controversially,
Adolf Hitler. Wait, Hitler? In a music video
for a song about a pet rat? Yep. Why? Why introduce
Hitler imagery into that context? It seems like
such an unnecessary risk unless maybe the provocation
is the entire point. I think the provocation
is the point. Just like his use of actors with
Down syndrome in What Is It? or the bizarre text
collages in his books, he's forcing the audience
to confront uncomfortable historical and cultural
figures, often within an otherwise benign or
even sentimental context, like a song about a
rat. It demands interpretation. Exactly. It ensures
the art cannot be passively consumed or easily
dismissed. You have to react, even if it's just
confusion or discomfort. Okay. Finally. We need
to talk a little about his private residence,
because it seems to perfectly mirror his dedication
to these long -term, overwhelming projects. He
maintains places in LA and NYC, but his main
home base is in the Czech Republic. That's right.
He owns Zamek Konarovic. It's a 17th century
chateau, sits on about 20 acres, maybe 45 minutes
east of Prague. Wow, a 17th century chateau.
And it's not just some fancy house. It's actually
recognized as historically significant by the
Czech government. It sounds like a dreamer street
on one hand. But given its age, it must also
be just an unending source of logistical nightmares,
upkeep, repairs. That seems to be exactly how
he views it. It is the ultimate project. He talks
about the chateau not really as a luxury. He
sees the upkeep as part of the art. Almost. He
describes the property as a lifetime project.
He's quoted as saying, So it's this unending
commitment, just like his decades -long film
projects or book series. Exactly. It perfectly
mirrors his commitment to his career and his
art. The source is, also mention, interestingly,
that he remains single. He cited his intense
career demands as a reason he feels sort of unfit
to be a father, believing a father should be
constantly present for his children. His commitment
to the work, whether it's maintaining a 17th
century castle in Bohemia or filming a challenging
psychosexual drama over six years, it seems to
be absolutely total. Hashtag, hashtag, outro,
summary, and final thought. So wrapping this
up, what really stands out most profoundly in
this deep dive is, I think, the strategic brilliance
of Crispin Glover. He's not really a compromised
artist, is he? He's more like a strategically
funded one. That's a great way to put it. He
absolutely perfected the technique of using the
studio system, the very thing he critiques, as
a means to generate the income required to fund
the profoundly unique, independent, and yes,
sometimes unnervingly bizarre art that he creates
through volcanic eruptions. He maintains this
incredible duality, this true, like, bifurcated
career. He's the recognizable face who delivers
an iconic, highly controlled performance for
a studio. Gets the check. Gets the check, and
then immediately uses that salary to bankroll,
say, a decade -long film project about the complexity
of identity, or to publish books he surgically
recontextualized from the 1800s. The chaos you
might perceive as intentional, the method underneath
is incredibly precise. And beyond the art itself,
we really have to always circle back to the long...
impact of his resistance. That Back to the Future
Part II lawsuit, it established such a crucial
legal boundary for actors. It secured their rights
against the misuse of their visual likeness.
Which is more relevant than ever. Exponentially
more vital. In an era dominated by AI, deep fakes,
digital recreation, that specific protection
is becoming fundamental to every working performer
in Hollywood. He fought for himself, and he ended
up protecting the entire industry in the process.
So what did this all mean for you, the listener?
I guess it means the eccentricity you see is
intentional. The rebellion is strategic. And
those mainstream roles, they're often merely
logistical steps toward a much purer, much stranger
artistic end. Exactly. And if you want one final
thought. to kind of mull over after this. Consider
the unpublished 500 -page novel he apparently
wrote throughout the 2010s. I got you two pages.
Yeah. Its primary focus is reported to be on
propaganda within the American entertainment
industry, and it apparently weaves in elements
of his own work and his own experiences. He created
this massive, dense statement of critique against
the very system he occasionally participates
in like a final, large volcano of thought just
sitting there waiting to erupt.