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Edward Burns
Interviewed by
Warren Kalbacker
New York's indie movie mogul on being irish, growing up with cops and what to do with the hairy ass
Originally published in the Jun 2001 issue of Playboy magazine
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Edward Burns

His first film, The Brothers McMullen (1995), portrayed Irish American siblings--and their tangled relationships--on suburban Long Island. It caught the attention of Robert Redford and won the grand jury prize at the Sundance Film Festival, earning Edward Burns a place among the top independent filmmakers. It also did more than $10 million at the box office, at a cost of $18,000.

Burns followed up his McMullen success in the larger-budget film She's the One, with Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz. His third film, No Looking Back, a dark study of working-class life, made it into video stores a bit too quickly for Burns' taste.

Burns is a control freak. He writes, produces, directs and stars in his own movies. He displayed no early inclination toward a career in film, though. Burns first set his sights on writing, but an undistinguished stint as an English major motivated him to enroll in easier film courses.

As the son of a New York City police officer, Burns is a pure New York guy's guy, good company whether sharing a foxhole or a pitcher of beer. His style impressed Steven Spielberg enough to cast him as Private Richard Reiben in Saving Private Ryan. No audition was required. This past spring he appeared as a New York City arson investigator opposite Robert De Niro's police detective in Fifteen Minutes. With his current film, Sidewalks of New York, Burns regains his usual three screen credits: writer, director and star, and returns to a favorite haunt.

Contributing Editor Warren Kalbacker trailed Burns along the sidewalks of lower Manhattan. He reports: "We sat on a park bench and talked for a couple of hours. Burns loves to describe New Yorkers as blasé types who are unfazed by the celebrities in their midst. He may be right. Two women waited until we'd finished taping before they walked over and introduced themselves as his fans."

Q 1

PLAYBOY: You made your bones with romantic comedies, The Brothers McMullen and She's the One. Isn't this genre a cruel hoax on those of us who get dumped or divorced or otherwise head toward a rocky relationship after that passionate kiss on a street corner?

Edward Burns: There are two reasons I started with romantic comedies. Everyone can relate to them. We've all been in relationships, and for most of us they don't turn out well. They can be heartbreaking, but as time passes you tend to laugh about them, or at least laugh at yourself. Also, romantic comedy is the least expensive genre you can do. It's just people sitting around talking. There are no car chases, no explosions and no special effects. If you do a mystery or a crime drama, you're dealing with gunplay. You need to rent weapons. You need stuntpeople. And you need special permits to bring a gun onto the streets of New York. Making a film like The Brothers McMullen--and even one like She's the One, which cost only $3 million--was related to the modest finances.

Q 2

PLAYBOY: The Brothers McMullen has been described as dark and out of focus. Didn't you pay attention in film school?

Edward Burns: It better have been out of focus. It was made for $18,000. We used recanned film stock. It's stock that maybe was bought for a music video and wasn't used but was loaded into a magazine. You then take it out of the magazine, put it back into the can. The stuff can be a couple years old. It's pretty crappy. Lots of times we'd do a day's shooting, and because we couldn't afford to process anything until the end, we had to keep it in the can. When we did have it developed, we would get stuff that was too dark or there would be no image. We couldn't afford to go back and reshoot, so those scenes just got cut. But I pride myself on McMullen, a 16-millimeter film--out of focus, dark, the camera doesn't move much--that was shot in my mom's house. Yet it made $10 million at the box office with actors no one had ever heard of. The only reason I became a filmmaker is because I was writing screenplays and didn't want to surrender control of what I had written to somebody else. The technical aspect was the second or third thing down the list. If you tell an engaging story, people will come.

Q 3

PLAYBOY: You filmed scenes of The Brothers McMullen on New York City's number seven subway line and the Long Island Railroad without permits. Are you on more professional terms with the Metropolitan Transportation Authority these days?

Edward Burns: I'm sure if I tried to do it again, I could. The reason we did it without permits was that they were so expensive and we were such a little crew. We hid the camera under a jacket and snuck on board. We pride ourselves on going in stealth-bomber style, but we're probably too well known now, so we'll have to go for the permits and pay the fee. It could take a big chunk out of our budget--a couple of grand.

Q 4

PLAYBOY: You're the son of a New York City policeman. For years you've promised to film a police story. Will we ever get to see an Ed Burns treatment of the NYPD?

Edward Burns: I have written the script and I'm trying to get it made. It's called On the Job, and it's a story of two generations of an Irish American family set against the police department, from 1966 to 1972. It's about that side of police life you never see in a film, which is growing up in a cop family. There's always that weird vibe, knowing that when your dad goes to work, he may not come back. I remember when I was a kid hearing on the radio about two cops shot in Brooklyn. One was named Ed Burn. We found out he was a different guy, a rookie cop.

Q 5

PLAYBOY: Were you well served and protected by having a father on the force?

Edward Burns: When we were kids, he would drive my brother--he's a year younger--and me into the city. He would dump us in Washington Square Park, tell a cop on duty to keep an eye on his kids. He'd give us two hours in the park by ourselves. He wanted us to get a vibe for what was going on in the real world. It was like, "Hey, the world is not just Long Island. Look at all these different people, all the different things going on." When he worked up in Harlem, he'd take us around and show us. "Hey, you want to be an asshole, do drugs? Look at these guys hanging out on the street. Is that what you want?" He'd take us into a cell, show us tough guys who were locked up. "Want to be a tough guy?" He'd say, "This is one of your options." We got a dose of reality very early on.

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