guybabineau.com

home / about / channel surfing in the sea of happiness / contact

Igby Goes Down
Interview with Kieran Culkin
Guy Babineau

LOS ANGELES—"I hope it doesn't end up in the porn 
aisle," quips Kieran Culkin, who stars in an upcoming 
movie with the quirky title Igby Goes Down. Too bad 
Fathers and Sons was already taken: the title of Ivan 
Turgenev's 1862 novel might have given audiences a clue 
or two about what to expect. On second thought, maybe it's 
a good thing, considering the actor's family problems a few 
years ago; Culkins and dads don't seem to mix. 

Same goes for Igby, a smart-ass 17-year-old who runs away 
from military school and his socially pretentious, escapist 
family in Washington, D.C.'s power suburb of Georgetown. 
Angry and aimless, he heads for New York City's 
pretentious and drug-addled Lower East Side. Culkin, 
swaggering into a swank Beverly Hills hotel room on a 
sunny Saturday morning, would seem a natural choice for 
the role. He slumps into a chair at a table surrounded by 
half a dozen journalists and proffers a mischievous come-
and-get-me smile. 

There is no doubt that sheepdog-cute Culkin hits home with 
his portrayal of the spoiled-yet-likably-sarcastic Igby. His 
director and fellow actors can't praise him enough, and the 
praise seems genuine. "He's just so good!" exclaims 
Amanda Peet, who plays a junkie posing as a performance 
artist and shares a couple of very steamy scenes with 
Culkin. 

The role was not offered to him on a silver platter; 
competition was stiff. After readings in London and L.A., 
Culkin met with the film's writer-director, first-timer Burr 
Steers, at a trendy New York ice-cream parlour. Steers, in 
his own words, "hadn't slept in years" due to the almost 
Sisyphean rigours of shopping around a new screenplay by 
a hitherto unknown talent, himself, followed by an 
exhausting preproduction schedule. Word on the street, and 
in agents' offices, was that the dark comedy-drama was 
packed with meaty scenes and dialogue. Studio backing 
materialized when Susan Sarandon, Jeff Goldblum, Claire 
Danes, Ryan Phillippe, Bill Pullman, and Peet attached 
themselves to the project in supporting roles. Despite 
having a bankable ensemble of sexy and capable costars, 
Steers (who is Gore Vidal's nephew) says he knew that his 
movie's success would depend on the actor playing the 
picture's pivotal part. 

He says he was weary from auditioning almost every 
teenage male actor with anything remotely resembling box-
office appeal and he was desperate to secure a recognizable 
name. When Culkin, the front-runner thus far, arrived for 
their meeting, Steers recounts, he took one look at the 
dishevelled director, sat down, grinned through floppy 
bangs, and said, "You look like shit!" Disdain for authority 
was Igby's motivating characteristic; being a cocky 
wiseacre was his defence mechanism. Steers relaxed. He'd 
found his Igby, no doubt about it. 

It's hard to believe that the young star turns 20 at the end of 
this month. He is, after all, filmdom's teenager du jour. 
People stopped referring to him as Macaulay's brother after 
his breakout 1998 performance playing a physically 
challenged 13-year-old in The Mighty. Critics are 
applauding his current role as a misbehaving Catholic 
schoolboy in The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys. Fidgety 
and distracted, Culkin fiddles with an empty water bottle, 
alternately chewing on the rim and bopping it against the 
table. 

A young interviewer in jeans and a tight, vintage Led 
Zeppelin T-shirt asks if he would kill his mother—if she 
asked him to, that is. Culkin's eyes widen. He stops 
fidgeting. 

"No one's asked me that before," he says, breaking into 
laughter. 

The question refers to one of the movie's integral scenes, in 
which Igby and his older brother Oliver (Phillippe), a 
straight-A preppy and Hamptons shark in training, attempt 
to assist in the suicide of their mother, Mimi (Sarandon), a 
neurotic, pill-popping, wine-soaked Republican bitch who 
happens to be dying of cancer. The scene, fluctuating 
between hilarity and Grand Guignol, provides the most 
unsettling moments in a film filled with them. 

But he doesn't respond to the question. A few years ago, 
Culkin's common-law parents went through an ugly 
divorce. He and his six siblings, including Macaulay, sided 
with their mother. 

When the Georgia Straight asks how his life is similar to 
Igby's, Culkin seems pleased, even relieved. 

"I wasn't raised the way Igby was. I wasn't in that family. 
Obviously, I love my family. I'm very close to my mother. 
I'm very close to my siblings. We're all very similar and we 
all understand each other." 

So he was never so out of control that, like Igby, his parents 
wanted to send him to military school? "It was an empty 
threat," he says. 

Culkin claims that he was attracted to Steer's screenplay 
because he thought Igby's voice was so similar to his own. 
"I never went through a lot of his life's experiences, but 
often the way he speaks or the smart-ass remarks he makes 
are on par with things I'm thinking." 

Art may be closer to life than Culkin cares to admit. During 
filming, Steers coined a nickname for Culkin: Igibus, as in 
Igibus Rex. "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy 
family is unhappy in its own way," wrote Turgenev 
contemporary Leo Tolstoy. Well, maybe in 19th-century 
Russia. In modern America, the unhappy families of 
popular drama seem to have much in common. From plays 
by Tennessee Williams and Eugene O'Neill to recent films 
such as American Beauty, The Ice Storm, and The Royal 
Tenenbaums, the demons of family dysfunction are 
remarkably consistent. The American dream is populated 
by distant or demanding dads, doped-up drama-queen 
moms, and delinquent or degenerate siblings. They're all in 
Igby Goes Down, though the catalyst for Igby's cri de coeur 
is a complicated, conflicted relationship with his father. As 
with Culkin's own estrangement, the pursuit of money, 
success, and privilege is at the heart of the matter. It's 
hardly a revelation that these things can bring out the worst 
in families, though the problems they create can make for 
both exciting moviegoing and juicy tabloid dish. 

Maybe that's why he's so reticent to reveal details about his 
personal life. He's learned a thing or two from the roller-
coaster life and career of his famous older brother. 
Interestingly, the younger Culkin has made his mark 
playing realistic roles in movies that question the nature of 
family values, whereas his brother found fame making 
frothy family fantasies. Kieran Culkin's reticence is 
understandable. He prefers to preserve the "keeping it real" 
for his performances. 

Does Culkin have any new projects in the works? 

"Not that I know of," he says. Then, his grin stretching to 
Grinch-like proportions, he adds: "Not that you know of."

Originally published in The Georgia Straight

© Guy Babineau 2003-2004

< home