He was Hollywood’s golden boy. Then, after some
big-screen flops, Kevin Costner’s star faded. But now, he
reveals, he yearns to be famous for something other
than movies. By Ariel Leve. Portraits by Barry J Holmes
FIELD OF
UNFULFILLED
DREAMS
On a crisp and sunny December afternoon in Los
Angeles, the electronic gates to Casa di Pace –
the “house of peace” – are opening up.A labrador
called Wyatt appears, tail wagging.The drive
culminates in a hacienda that is tucked away deep
in the Hollywood Hills. Inside, two comfy
armchairs frame a blazing log ﬁre and Kevin
Costner is seated in one of them.“C’mon in!” he
calls out, smiling warmly as he holds out his hand.
“Hi,” he says.“I’m Kevin.” He is tall, wears a
T-shirt and worn blue jeans, and his 49 years
only show in the creases around the eyes. He is
naturally, ruggedly handsome without being
groomed, and conﬁdent without being smug.
Costner loves his kids, his dogs, and baseball.
It soon becomes apparent he likes women too.
His company is comfortably masculine, like the
dad the baby-sitter wants to sleep with. He is
disarmingly unafraid to show the gaps in his
46 education. He doesn’t try to be a deep thinker, he
46 The Sunday Times Magazine 22 feb 2004
doesn’t pretend he’s the smartest guy in the room.
He cuts a ﬁgure of the ordinary guy who could
be a hero, a strong yet vulnerable and sensitive
man, the type he likes to play in his movies, over
and over. But is it the man he is or wants to
be? Or is Kevin Costner looking for a new role?
This afternoon, where’s the surly bore, the
vaulting ego, the tabloid image of the arrogant
womaniser? He sits, one leg crossed over the
other, his foot bobbing in the air with
anticipation. He undoubtedly has sex appeal:
millions of women know it and, like the
characters he often portrays, it is judicious and
anchored with a conventional decency.
Perhaps it is because he is relaxed and we are on
his home turf. It’s unusual, since stars are supposed
to protect their privacy with lawyers and guard
dogs, but also intentional because it is clear that his
home is his sanctuary. He feels safe here.“I can
have you in my home and still have my a
22 feb 2004 The Sunday Times Magazine
47
PREVIOUS PAGES: GROOMING BY JENNIFER PITT @ ARTISTS. THIS PAGE, LEFT: REX. RIGHT: AP
privacy,” he explains.“In fact, I think our privacy is
really well preserved – we’re not having someone
come over and interrupt us.” It also puts him
in control – and control, as we shall see, is central
to Costner’s existence.
In September, Costner is getting married to
Christine Baumgartner, 29, a bag designer, at his
ranch in Colorado.They have dated for four years,
and this will be his second marriage after a very
public and messy divorce in 1994.Why would he
want to make the commitment again with the
pain of divorce still apparent?
Costner isn’t sure. He looks puzzled. Not
uncomfortable, exactly, but mentally making a
readjustment.“Ohhh,” he says, narrowing his eyes,
“you’re one of those...Well, it’s probably not as
important to me to be married but it’s important
to her.The truth is, I never want to be divorced
again.That’s the scary part of committing – but in
some way you’re saying,‘My level of commitment
to you is not vague and it’s not foggy and I don’t
necessarily need that title, but if you do, you’re my
partner and we’ll do that.’And you just can’t be
paralysed. I have a good look at the world. I see
what the world is. I see what the possibilities are –
I see what the realities are – you can wake up
tomorrow and feel differently.That’s possible.The
one thing for sure is, if you don’t commit to
anything, you’re not going to feel the loss.”
Costner’s view of himself as a man with
passionate determination has often been
complicated by his reputation as someone who
wilfully and stubbornly wants his own way. Rather
than concede, he’ll go it alone, creating an image
of an enigmatic loner, a perception that he
acknowledges but disputes.
He tells a story: when he was in college, he
suggested to some of his friends that they go up to
Alaska and work on ﬁshing boats and make
money, but he couldn’t get anyone to go with him.
He still went, by himself. He uses this story to
illustrate that he prefers to be with people but is
equally comfortable to strike out on his own.
It is an anecdote that reinforces his reputation as
an isolated and remote individual and his
independent self-image. He’ll make the movie he
wants to make and is not easily dissuaded.This
quality has deﬁned Costner. It’s anointed him as a
visionary ﬁlm-maker (Dances with Wolves) and
underlined his fall from grace (The Postman).
There are moments in people’s lives where
everything culminates and glory is achieved. For
Costner, this was Dances with Wolves. He had
box-office success as an actor, yet nobody
suspected he had more to offer. But all along, he’d
been observing. On the set of The Big Chill, even
though his part was cut, he befriended Lawrence
Kasdan, the director, and he absorbed and he
waited.And when the opportunity came, he was
ready to say something with Dances with Wolves.
He had never directed before.And the plight
of the American Indians was not considered
blockbuster material by mainstream Hollywood.
His tireless persistence in getting the ﬁlm made
was extraordinary. It put Native Americans in the
consciousness of a global audience, and whether
Above: Costner with his
ﬁrst wife, Cindy Silva, in
1993. The couple
divorced a year later.
Right: at this year’s
Golden Globe awards
with his daughter Lily,
17, (far right) and his
ﬁancée, Christine
Baumgartner, whom he
will marry in September
he was brave or lucky, driven by ego or vision, he
showed courage in keeping at it. He ignored
negative reactions from studio executives who
didn’t believe he could pull it off.And he refused
to cut out the Sioux subtitles.Against the odds, he
made a ﬁlm that mattered.
For a long time, Costner could do no wrong.
He was handed miles of rope after Dances
with Wolves, and he grabbed it. He made Robin
Hood: Prince of Thieves,The Bodyguard, and
JFK. But his movies since Waterworld raise the
question: has his single-mindedness become a
millstone? It’s a long time since he’s enjoyed big
commercial success. In 1991, Robin Hood took
$165.5m at the US box office; his past four ﬁlms
put together didn’t make this amount. Even
Waterworld (1995), which was critically panned,
took $88.2m in the US and £8m in the UK.
Compare that with his 2001 offering, 3,000 Miles
to Graceland, which took a paltry $15.7m in the
US and went straight to video here.
He sticks to his principles yet his instincts seem
out of sync with the box office. If the movie
landscape has changed, maybe his ﬁlm-making
requires greater risks. Or does he have a fear of
change? Costner’s eyes widen and he inches
forward in his chair, placing his palms on his knees
and looking right at me. He evades the question
and, smiling, bats it back.“Do you have that?’
He tells an anecdote about Dances with
‘I NEVER WANT
TO BE DIVORCED
AGAIN. IT’S THE
SCARY PART
OF COMMITTING’
Wolves: he read Michael Blake’s manuscript and
encouraged his friend to turn it into a screenplay,
then decided he would direct it, and then later it
was published as a book. If it weren’t for his
encouragement and insistence, he says, perhaps
the book might never have been published. He’s
genuinely proud that he motivated his friend,
enjoys taking credit for it.The reluctant hero has a
need to be seen as a benevolent guru too.
Costner doesn’t consider himself a writer but
has no compunction about telling writers what he
thinks should be on the page.The same with
orchestrations for his movies: even though he
doesn’t play music, he will tell the musicians what
he wants because he believes he is right.This is
one of his most trenchant qualities: he can’t let go.
It’s hard to know when Costner speaks his
mind whether it is an oversized ego talking or
merely a perfectionist’s purpose.This tenacity has
been interpreted as egotism, or overzealous selfadmiration, even. So can he admit to failure?
“Oh yeah – I’ve failed. But that’s a weird word –
I’ve never failed to try.” He pauses, rethinking his
answer.“Failed? I’ve had pictures that haven’t
succeeded, but I’ve stayed with them. I started an
environmental company 10 years ago and it hasn’t
succeeded – but it’s going to. I don’t give up on
stuff. If I read something and I think it is good, six
people won’t convince me it’s not good.”
He traces his strength of conviction back to a
seminal moment in college (he studied marketing
at California State University) when, egged on by
peer pressure, he took part in a stupid fraternity
stunt.“I came away from it thinking,‘I’ll never be
intimidated again.’ It was a dumb thing – it
was wanting to belong and thinking that I would
do anything to belong, and then catching myself
and thinking,‘I won’t ever do that again.’”That
Costner reproached himself for nothing a
49
22 feb 2004 The Sunday Times Magazine
49
THE RISE AND FALL OF COSTNER’S STAR
With Dances with Wolves and Robin Hood, Costner was on a career high. But after Waterworld came the box-office decline...
DANCES WITH WOLVES
ROBIN HOOD:
PRINCE OF
THIEVES,
1991
DANCES WITH
WOLVES, 1990
$203.7m
$202.7m
ROBIN HOOD:
PRINCE OF THIEVES
THE BODYGUARD,
1992
$152.9m
THE BODYGUARD
THE UNTOUCHABLES
WATERWORLD,
1995
$103.6m
TIN CUP,
1996
$56.3m
THE
UNTOUCHABLES,
1987
$81.1m
THIRTEEN
DAYS, 2000
$37m
MAIN PHOTOGRAPH: AP. INSET, CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: PICTUREDESK.COM, WARNER BROS, REX, PICTUREDESK.COM, MOVIESTORE COLLECTION
JFK,
1991
MESSAGE IN
A BOTTLE,
1999
$83.3m
Figures shown are
combined US
and UK box-office
takings. Source:
ACNielsen EDI
WATERWORLD
A PERFECT
WORLD,
1993
$20.7m
more than an adolescent desire to belong is
intriguing.What young man doesn’t wish to join
or conform to something perceived as attractive or
desirable? And how can a run-of-the-mill rite of
passage for a young student be remembered as
such a threat 30 years later?
Costner seems almost shocked when told there
is a perception of him as guarded, which would
seem to be sustained by this anecdote.“That’s
ridiculous! It’s not my job to be mysterious.”
Despite his resolute stance, he sounds unsure of
himself. So the fame doesn’t matter? He insists he
is grateful but has regrets.“It’s closed as many
doors as it’s opened,” he says.
Costner grew up in suburban Los Angeles – his
father worked for a utilities company and it was a
normal, unturbulent childhood. He was an athlete
in high school, went ﬁshing with his father and
older brother, Dan, and acted in a couple of
amateur musical-theatre productions.There
wasn’t much money and he wasn’t a quarterback or
a hit with the girls.At university he met Cindy
$57m
WYATT EARP,
1994
$26.6m
THE POSTMAN,
1997
$18.2m
Silva, who was working her way through college as
Snow White at Disneyland.When asked if he was
Prince Charming, he laughs.“No, I was Dopey.”
He and Cindy married early, in 1978. He had a
series of jobs – truck driver, carpenter, deck hand
and, in 1979, stage manager.“My ﬁrst job was
working at a little studio for $28 a day. I was really
glad to have that. I didn’t tell people I was an
actor. Not because I was ashamed, but because
there was work to be done.And no one wants to
work next to a pining actor.”
By 1985 his acting career was beginning to take
off. He was in successful movies such as American
Flyers, No Way Out,The Untouchables, Bull
Durham, and Field of Dreams.Then, all of a
sudden, his own project, Dances with Wolves. He’s
winning Academy Awards, is on the covers of
magazines, making piles of money. George Bush is
calling to play golf. Men want to be him, women
want to sleep with him. In the space of 20 months
he becomes a superstar, the new Gary Cooper.
He is rubbing his chin, pondering an assessment
FOR THE
LOVE OF
THE GAME,
1999
$35.3m
3,000
MILES TO
GRACELAND,
2001
$15.7m
DRAGONFLY,
2002
$30m
that his success came early.“I didn’t have success
until 28,” he says, and when it’s mentioned that 28
is quite young, he puts it in a more conventional
context. His friends were buying homes, earning a
living and opting for security. So what Costner
wants us to see is that he took a chance – gambled
with his fate and the fate of his family – and,
against the odds, it paid off. Costner wants us to
see a strong, determined and down-to-earth
fellow who has achieved much against the odds,
yet is unchanged by his success. But there remains
a suspicion of a black hole in his life, as if he isn’t
fully convinced that he fulﬁls the role he clings to.
So what’s missing? “What I really hope is that I
have the wisdom and the courage to alter my life
because I want to alter it, and that I’m not stuck
doing movies as the only identity I have.That if I
want to stop making movies one day, that I just
stop doing it because some other window has
opened up for me. I hope I have that kind of
courage.That my life can be about other things.”
His answer suggests that his fame, his family, a 51
22 feb 2004 The Sunday Times Magazine
51
money and career don’t fulﬁl him, that there is a
large, unidentiﬁed void in his life.“I didn’t say
anything was missing,” he says, a tad too
impatiently.“I said that I don’t think of anything
missing. But potentially what could be missing is
me not sensing to step in another direction.”
And that would be out of fear? There is a long,
thoughtful pause.“Well, I don’t think of myself as a
fearful person. I’m not looking for a change of
career, but if I wanted to just get on a boat and go
for two or three years, I have the ﬁnancial
wherewithal to do it – but would I do it? Or do I
have to feed my ego by being in a movie?”
So is he feeling trapped, or merely anchored by
his responsibilities? “I have a daughter in her
second year of Brown University and I have
one that’s starting to really ﬁnd herself – and Joe’s
now 16... ” He trails off and explains the
importance of wanting to be around to raise his
children rather than sailing around the world.
He thinks of himself as generous – and he is, by
most accounts. He likes to be magnanimous, even
52 The Sunday Times Magazine 22 feb 2004
towards his enemies.“If I had a professional
looking at me they might say,‘The reason you help
that person, that’s about you.’ But in truth, my
understanding of it is simply that they said they
were sorry, and now they need help again. I’ve
done things for people who have hurt me – just
because they said they were sorry. I’m kind of a
sucker for the word.”
He admits to periods of depression when he
withdraws and decides he doesn’t ever want to
be hurt again. But that means never reaching out,
which, he says, is not the way he wants to live.
He is still in touch with his emotions; he can be
sentimental, things move him.About 10 years ago
a friend of Costner’s wrote a song in aid of the
families of those involved in the ﬁrst Gulf war, to
be performed by celebrities and singers. Costner
got involved.“I was walking to my car and I heard
this woman’s voice saying,‘Kevin? Kevin?’ and I
was exhausted. I knew there was a distance
between her and I, that I could have [pretended]
technically not to have heard her but she called
one more time, and I stopped, and she said,‘I saw
Dances with Wolves, and there’s a scene at the end
where you’re holding each other and can’t let go,
and my husband is MIA [missing in action].And
all I dream about is that moment when I’m going
to run to my husband and he’s going to run to me.’
And it just stopped me, and I cut out those two
frames of the movie and sent her the pictures.” He
says those moments balance out the negatives.
Costner on the set of
his latest ﬁlm, Open
Range, in which he
stars opposite Annette
Bening. The ﬁlm,
a homage to the 1953
western Shane, is his
third directorial effort
after the hugely
successful Dances with
Wolves and the huge
ﬂop The Postman
“Nobody made me make these movies. I did them
for myself,and when they touch somebody else,
it’s just a really cool feeling.When I read a good
book or hear a good story, I want to share it.When
I hear a good joke, a great band or a good piece of
music, my inclination is to share.”
I ask him to share a joke.“No,” he says.“It will
end up in the article.” Is it a dirty joke? A racist
joke? “No.It’s just... weird. I don’t know. I’m
guarded about that. Maybe it will just seem silly...”
He pauses.“Okay! I’m going to tell you this joke.”
He gives it a shot, trying his best to remember it
without losing momentum.“A guy knocks over a
lamp.A genie appears. He asks if it’s really a genie,
and the genie says,‘Yeah, I’m the real thing and I
REX
HE ADMITS THAT
HE’S PLAGUED
BY AN INABILITY
TO BE MORE
SPONTANEOUS
can grant you any wish.’ ‘Any wish?’ asks the guy.
‘Yes, any wish.’The guy whips out a map.And he
says,‘See this? This is Palestine.And that’s Israel. I
want you to ﬁx that. Because it’s been going on
too long.’And the genie says,‘I can’t ﬁx that.’ So
the guy says,‘Mmm – that’s what I thought.’And
he starts to walk away, so the genie says,‘C’mon,
gimme another chance.Ask me something else –
whatever you want.’ So the guy goes,‘Okay, can
you make it so that my wife will like sex with me?’
And the genie looks at him and says,‘Gimme
the f***ing map!’” He is laughing now – enjoying
himself.Then he sits back, relieved it’s over.
Costner’s image has never been regarded
as edgy.The most controversy he has courted
revolved around affairs with women during, as
well as after, his marriage – one of which, after his
divorce, resulted in an illegitimate son. He doesn’t
hang out with other famous people.There are
some he trusts, such as Sean Connery and Andy
Garcia.“But I don’t really call them on the phone
and they don’t call me.We’re friendly, I ﬁnd them
trustworthy, honourable. My friends are people I
went to high school and college with.”
It is dusk.The ﬁre is crackling and we have not
moved for a couple of hours. Costner, bathed in an
orange glow, stands up and stretches.We step
outside onto his porch, which overlooks a dark
limestone pool covered with leaves. Surveying his
property, he explains that he needed a peaceful
place to be after his marriage ended. It is chilly, and
we step back inside. He resumes his seat.
“When I got divorced, there was an enormous
light thrown on that. It was very public about my
private life.Also,Waterworld, one of the most
expensive movies of all time, was being made and,
um, a lot of things were not right.And I felt I was
being crushed under the weight of it all. But I’d
often wondered if I was a strong person – and
I surprised myself because I held on.And I didn’t
let it crush me. I just held on.”
What was the alternative? He responds without
hesitation.“That you wilt like a daisy.You bury
yourself and go away and think it’s everybody
else’s problem. It was a hard time.A hard time.”
Despite his Republican leanings, he says he is not
dogmatic and is open to having his mind changed,
if not his character.“I don’t think it’s a mark of
great political cachet for a person who says,‘I’ve
never changed. Since 1960. I’m a consistent
person.’You go,‘F***, man, I changed yesterday
when I heard something really important!’ So I
think staunch conservatives are very dangerous.
Liberal liberals – really dangerous.
“Put it this way: I took my daughter Annie out,
she was 15 then – she’s now 19 – and she was
beautiful, and we were just walking on the beach
and I asked her to look around, and I said,‘Annie?
Tell me what you feel.’And she loved me – and felt
the love couldn’t get any bigger and she told me so,
and I said to her,‘Well, there’s going to be a day
that you don’t feel that.You’re going to feel that
I’m not the smartest guy in the world.You’re going
to feel that I’m holding you back.You’re going to
feel a lot of things.And that’s okay. But I want you
to know it will be you that’s changed. I haven’t. I’m
42, I’m 44, I’m 49 – this is who I am.You’re going
to have a different feeling about me, so all I want
you to do is to think back to that time when your
love was big and you were 15.’”
Suddenly he looks fragile.“There are things
about me that won’t change. How I feel about
my friends, that’s not going to change. I’m
probably – for those who know me – the same as
when I was 22. I still get excited about stuff, in a
way that I know a lot of my friends don’t.”
He admits he’s plagued by an inability to be a
22 feb 2004 The Sunday Times Magazine
53
‘IF I COULD PICK SOME
TROPHY, IT WOULD BE TO
BE ON THE COVER OF
TIME MAGAZINE AGAIN’
more spontaneous.“I’ve seen others
do it and I get kind of jealous – if I’m
around people and they’re having a
good time,maybe in another country,
and they decide they’re going to stay
another three days. It doesn’t seem
like much, but I’ve never been able to
do that in my life. I usually know
where I’m going to be on Monday.
I’ve been jealous of how others,when
they’re having a really good time,they
just stay. I’m trying to change that.”
Asked if he knows where he’ll be a
week from now, he nods.Two weeks
from now? He nods.A month? Yes.
His life is organised and yet there is
something about him that feels
strangely displaced.There’s something
there, something damaged or broken
– but what is it? “It’s not something I
want to talk to you about.” Is it the
divorce, the separation from his
children? Guilt? Or some real or
perceived professional betrayal? “I
need you to understand why I can’t
go into this, because it would affect
someone else more than it would
affect me.And that’s not fair. But
yeah, I’ve been bruised.And the truth
is,I don’t think about it all the time –
but I know that on a certain level it is
probably not over.” His mood has
become wistful.Then he says,politely
but ﬁrmly,“If you don’t mind, I’d
rather not talk about it.I’m pretty wide
open,” adding, almost apologetically:
“It’s just a couple of things.”
It is dark.We haven’t talked at all
about the movie, Open Range, and
when I bring it up, he lets out a deep,
torpid sigh.We’ve been talking for
nearly four hours.He smiles but looks
worn out.“I feel a bit of a headache
coming on,” he teases, rubbing his
temples.“I’ve had to genuinely
think.” He is proud of Open Range
(released in the UK on March 19), a
western in the mould of Shane – poor,
honest folk against land-grabbing
predators – and he fought to give the
characters depth and integrity.This
is evident in a story he tells of a scene
between him and Annette Bening
that emphasises the subtlety of his
character. Others wanted it out, but
he insisted it stayed in. His instincts
as a storyteller remain uncorrupted
by commercial demands.
“What time is it?” he asks. Costner
does not wear a watch. It is nearly
6pm. His daughter Lily has a
basketball tournament and he is
concerned he might be missing it.
Costner’s children (who have grown
up, since his divorce, spending
seven days with him, seven days with
their mother) are virtually adult. His
son is having to adapt to his sisters
leaving for college; it’s a vulnerable
time for him, and for Costner as well.
There is a sadness about him.
If he stops acting and directing,
what will be next? He pauses.“I was
on the cover of Time magazine once.
If I could pick some trophy out – and
I know I’m saying this all wrong –
but it would be great to be on the
cover of Time again. But not for a
movie. I wouldn’t want to be there
for a great comeback.That wouldn’t
interest me as much as something
else that happened. Because, I guess, I
know I would be circling around
something that was interesting and
vital, and it didn’t have anything to
do with the movies. It would mean
that I had changed direction in my
life – and it was important to me and
important to somebody else.”
He doesn’t seem cynical or bitter,
but while he genuinely likes the
movie business, it’s obvious that now,
as he’s nearing 50, Costner craves
change. It’s something he doesn’t
deny:“If I was to have a tombstone, it
would be cool if it said at the end,
‘And he made movies too’.” s
NEXT WEEK
IN THE MONTH
Next Sunday we treat you to behindthe-scenes footage, a trailer and
an extended clip of Kevin Costner’s
new movie, Open Range, on The
Sunday Times’ free CD-Rom, The
Month. Also: new releases from
Norah Jones and Harry Connick Jr
February 22, 2004 The Sunday Times Magazine
55