It’s been 44 years since Alan Alda’s movie The Four Seasons was released, and it turns out that marriage and friendship are still complicated, fraught, and surprising—and an enticing topic for a comedy icon. Tina Fey’s Netflix series adaptation of the 1981 comedy, which starred Alda, Carol Burnett, and Rita Moreno, reimagines a year of couples getaways with Will Forte, Colman Domingo, and Steve Carell, along with a cameo from Alda himself. At 89, Alda still has the impeccable comic timing he did in M*A*S*H, along with a few more decades of perspective on human connection, his Parkinson’s diagnosis, and why he doesn’t want to be remembered.
Vanity Fair: In episode two of the new Four Seasons, you masterfully deliver a monologue involving the line, “Congratulations. Take off your pants; it’s a sex day!” What’s a memory that stands out to you about that day?
I was glad I could remember my lines. And I remember, as we were standing outside to go into the room to shoot the scene, I was warming up my voice with a Shakespeare sonnet, and Tina said, ‘Is that from a play or is that a sonnet?’ And I had this really nice feeling that we were two actors waiting to go on stage together, that little exchange before going out into the light.
You have a warm-up sonnet?
“When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes.”
When did you first hear Netflix and Tina Fey would be adapting your film into a series? Did your 30 Rock costar reach out directly to ask you to make an appearance?
I don’t know how old Tina is, but I think she was barely born when the movie came out, so it was very flattering to hear that she was interested in doing a series based on it. It was really interesting to me that she based it not only on the movie but on how times have changed, relationships are different, the lingo is different. I guess she thought it’d be fun to have me suddenly show up as a character that wasn’t even in the movie.
I found an old New York Times article written in 1981 from the set of The Four Seasons. It says this about you: “Although he is one of the least macho of leading men, he tends to use quite salty language in private—but not even this takes the gloss off his squeaky-clean image. Friends describe him with adjectives more commonly found on pedestals: concerned, considerate, generous. As for enemies, he doesn’t seem to have any.” What do you make of that?
I’ve killed them all.
Did you ever get sick of being known as the nice guy with no enemies?
It’s led to a couple of lawsuits because people thought they could steal from me, and I wouldn’t mind. They didn’t realize that I really enjoy a good lawsuit.
Netflix is hosting a one-night-only screening of your 1981 film at NYC’s Paris Theater. Will I see you there?
I’m face blind, so I won’t recognize you. When we were making The Four Seasons, my daughter was one of the actors in the movie. She didn’t look like the two people playing her parents because her hair was dark and their hair was light, so I sent out to have her hair color changed. She came back on the set with blond hair and big glasses, and I said to the assistant director, “Don’t let these strangers on set.” Isn’t that awful?
Let’s talk about M*A*S*H for a second. It’s still hard to wrap my mind around the fact that 120 million people watched the finale.
It was at least half the people in the country watching it at the same time. We had an inkling at the time because we were watching it on a big screen at the studio and then driving to dinner, realizing the streets were empty.
What’s a subtle thing about how you played Hawkeye Pierce that makes you proud?
I don’t get “proud” about things. I get “glad I’m able to do things.” I got better at everything I did on M*A*S*H. I got better as an actor, I got better as a director and writer. But I think the thing that I came away with that was the most valuable to me for the rest of my life was what we did between scenes—sitting around waiting an hour for them to light the next shot. We would kid one another and play. Sometimes we would rehearse a scene, but mostly we would just connect.
During COVID, a lot of home-bound people discovered another of your beloved series, The West Wing. Did you find yourself with a new generation of Arnold Vinick fans?
Yeah, I did. The thing that comes to mind about The West Wing is the live debate. It was like an improv because we had so little time to rehearse, so we had to get most of our lines off of monitors. I couldn’t see the monitor without glasses, but I had not established wearing glasses in the show. So I had to get contact lenses, but I had never worn contact lenses. I remember two minutes before going on the air live, I was still trying to stick my finger in my eye.
You helped raise this feminist with Free to Be… You and Me, and you championed the Equal Rights Amendment. Can you believe it still hasn’t passed?
The arguments against it were all things that changed just by natural process. There was the idea that if the ERA passed, there would be unisex bathrooms or that women would be serving in combat in the military. And these things did happen. But the thing that didn’t change is that it’s not unconstitutional to discriminate against women.
A decade ago, you were diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. How are you feeling these days?
Well, when people ask me, “How are you?” I often say, “making progress.” I don’t mention which direction. [pause] This may sound Pollyanna-ish, but it really is so: The little things I used to be able to do, I have trouble doing now. Something as simple as buttoning or unbuttoning a shirt might take 10 tries until I get the right angle. Instead of being impatient about it, I find it’s like an exploration, like learning a new dance step. I finally find an angle to come in on, and I get it done, and there’s such a moment of pleasure, a shot of dopamine. It’s a little victory, and these little victories that fill my day, I wouldn’t have if I didn’t have Parkinson’s. Not that I welcome Parkinson’s, but I’m really glad I stumbled into this attitude.
You’re so fascinated with science. Do you find yourself researching new treatments?
Oh, yeah. You have to. There’s always the latest new thing coming up. Often, the latest new thing involves drilling a hole in your head, which I save as a last resort.
Your culture and science podcast, Clear and Vivid, always ends with seven quick questions for your guest, so I thought I’d hit you with seven more. What’s one role you wish that you had taken that you didn’t?
I was asked to do The Killing Fields, but my father was in the hospital dying, and I wanted to be there. There was no question that I wouldn’t do it, but it would have been nice if it had worked out because it was such a good movie. [The role ultimately went to Sam Waterston.]
What’s the strangest question anyone has ever asked you?
I was at a resort hotel, and a boy, about six years old, looked up at me for a long time and said, “How did you get out of the TV?”
What’s a book that changed your life?
The book that turned things around for me was when I was eight years old, and I read Top Horse at Crescent Ranch, and I decided I wanted to be a writer. So I wrote a book, and since I was always interested in the underdog, my story was called Not the Top Horse at Crescent Ranch.
What happens in your book?
He wasn’t the favorite horse, but he could do things that nobody else could.
In 100 years, what descriptive word do you want attached to your name?
“Who?”
You don’t want to be remembered?
Have you ever been to the graveyard in Paris called Père Lachaise? Yves Montand is buried there on a little slab that’s surrounded by acres of three-story monuments to mayors from tiny towns, people you never heard of. That, to me, is what thinking about the future is. When you’re gone, it’s over. How many people are worthy of thinking about from 100 years ago or 500 or a 1,000?
If there is a second season of The Four Seasons and Don returns, what do you want his storyline to be? I’m no TV writer, but I’d like to put in a formal request to incorporate your 1981 film costar Carol Burnett.
The story is: I meet this wonderful woman. I never thought I’d be interested in anybody else, and it turns out to be Carol Burnett. Everybody’s upset, not because I’ve replaced my wife, but because they noticed her stealing a piece of silverware.
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The post Alan Alda at 89: A Legend on ‘The Four Seasons,’ Life with Parkinson’s, ‘MAS*H,’ and Carol Burnett appeared first on Vanity Fair.
