Bill Pullman, 70, is an actor known for his roles in the films “Independence Day” and “The Ballad of Lefty Brown” and TV’s “The Sinner.” He most recently starred in Lifetime’s “Murdaugh Murders: The Movie.” He spoke with Marc Myers.
Hornell in western New York was a town of about 13,000 people when I grew up there in the 1960s. My friends and I had some good adventures, but I spent more time by myself.
In 10th grade, my math teacher told a story that made everyone laugh. Then she stopped and asked, “Why didn’t you laugh, Bill?” I had no idea. That’s when I realized I wasn’t often in sync with classmates around me.
I didn’t feel like an artist during childhood and had no idea how artists behaved. I just enjoyed time alone where I could sort out the stress at home and get my life in order.
My parents and my six siblings lived in one of the bigger homes in Hornell—a redbrick house built in the 1890s with a mansard roof and cast-iron elements that framed our windows. We had lots of rooms upstairs and in the basement.
We also had a place 11 miles out of town in a more rural area. My parents called it “the farm” though we had no animals or crops. We’d go up there every Sunday, and often each of us could disappear for hours. My father, James, was a physician and always seemed happiest at the farm. My mother, Johanna, a homemaker, viewed it as a refuge.
Our family was large, even for those days. The first born was Jay. Then came Helena, Linda, Joe, John, me and, finally, my younger sister, Johanna.
I grew up in a chaotic household. My father’s addiction began with alcohol and then shifted to painkillers and other self-medicating drugs. He went through a tough period, though he was a generous, dedicated person.
My mother began having psychiatric problems when she was 49. She was diagnosed schizoaffective—a disorder with multiple schizophrenia symptoms such as delusions, depression and mania. She’d had a mental breakdown when I was 7 and was in and out of treatment for many years. Yet she was warm and generous as well.
My father was highly functional, but in his 50s, he had occasional moments of atypical behavior. My mother would become a little manic or have calibrations of voice and tone and other things that became tells.
As a result, I studied behavior early and became attuned to factors that brought on personality shifts. I also had to try to help control the situation at home.
My father had many patients who were farmers, so he encouraged my brothers and me to work summers on farms. Picking up freshly cut bales of hay and tossing them into the wagon was hard work.
In high school, I was a pretty good student. I made the honor society and won a National Merit scholarship. I also was cast in the school’s renditions of “The Devil and Daniel Webster” and Woody Allen’s “Don’t Drink the Water.” But acting wasn’t a passion yet, just a diversion.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to pursue in college, so I applied to a two-year program for building construction at SUNY Delhi in upstate New York. One day, I tagged along with some refrigeration students auditioning for a campus play, “The Bald Soprano.” Lo and behold, I was cast.
The moment director Bill Campbell asked the cast and me to read the script out loud, I felt an emotional lightning crack. I still didn’t see myself as an actor, but Bill did. He encouraged me to attend SUNY Oneonta’s undergraduate theater program and said I’d likely get a graduate degree in theater and direct plays. “It’s a good life, you’ll like it,” he said.
Somehow that’s exactly what happened. I went to Oneonta and then attended UMass Amherst. In the middle of my second year of grad school, Bill asked me to take a leave to assume his position for a year. So I did.
While in grad school, I spent a couple of summers acting and directing for a theater company that toured Montana. After I finished my MFA, Montana State University asked me to teach and direct for a year. One year turned into two.
There came a point when I wanted to return to acting. The woman I was going with, Tamara, was an undergrad. She came out to Montana to visit and began nudging me to relocate to New York. In 1981 we made the move.
I worked in theater in New York, and while doing a play in L.A., I was cast in the 1986 movie “Ruthless People.” Tamara and I married in 1987.
Today, we live in Beachwood Canyon in L.A. We moved into our house in 1991. We had enough land to create terraces, where I tend 60 varieties of fruit plants and trees.
We also spend time at the Montana ranch we have next to my brother and sister-in-law’s ranch. I love walking the trails nearby and watching for animals and birds. I love the solitude.
Bill’s Retreat
Downtime? We love spending time in our L.A. orchard and garden, though I’ve dragged Tamara into a lot of renovation stuff.
Stuff? We’re renovating an old brick building near the San Gabriel Mountains. It will be a live-and-work space for artists. A couple of our kids want to live there, too.
Montana? When possible, we help drive cattle to the upper mountain pastures for the summer.
Views? It reminds me of the Westerns I loved as a kid—“Shane,” “Red River” and “Missouri Breaks.”
Cooking? Tamara cooks quite a bit. I love her Israeli chicken dish with prunes and olives. It’s a flavor explosion.