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Conan interview transcript
from when Galaxy Quest
was coming out.
Not sure where I got it, wherever it was, thanks :)
Conan: My next guest tonight has starred in such films as "Sense and Sensibility" and "Die Hard"--pretty much the same movie--he currently co-stars in the movie Dogma, and beginning Christmas day he can be seen with Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver in Galaxy Quest. Let's take a look."
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View of GQ clip:
Back of Rickman, in purple and grey space uniform, with headgear firmly in place, comes into view.
Commander: (as the landing party comes into the maze of desert-colored rocks and cliffs beyond) Which way, Alexander?
Alexander: (peers into the distance, then turns suddenly, and beeps on the tricorder for topographical readings. Cut to close-up of his hands turning it on. It looks like a medium-old Polaroid instant camera, held flat in his long fingers. Pan up to his face, as he lifts his arm to point straight ahead) This way! (The landing party moves forward.) Wait, no . . . (Another close-up of the tricorder, as he hesitates a half beat, then turns it around so that the seven purple data-gathering sensor pads, flanked by a circle of gray dots--it color coordinates with the uniform--are closest to him. He wheels on his feet, turns and points exactly back the way they came.) That way. (He strides semi-confidently past them.)
Landing party member: You were holding it upside down!
Alexander: (walking on, his left arm swinging) Shut----up.
Landing party member: You know, with all that make-up and stuff I actually thought you were smart for a second.
Fadeout clip.
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Conan: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Alan Rickman. (applause, music)
Rickman emerges head first, from behind a blue curtain, hands behind his back. Mouths "thank-you," beams a very large smile, shakes hands and mouths "It's a pleasure" then (left hand still behind his back) tosses his head forward as he shakes host's hand. Black jacket with faint pattern, over black T-shirt and very slimming black trousers. Hair short in the back and sides, longish in the front and top, more blond there, darker below. Part more towards the center than usual. Pauses to look at the appreciative studio audience for a moment before he sits. He wears a black-banded watch, white-faced with gold circle bevel, on his left wrist.
Conan: Thank-you for coming.
Rickman: (hands in lap, bit of thumb rubbing) It's very nice to be here and I'm relieved I don't have to sit on anybody's knee. (motions with left hand, and looks from host to co-host. It's a reference to a skit just completed on the show.)
Conan: That's your second time; that's punishment. We'll see how this goes. You know actually I saw a movie the other day, and I saw the trailer for this film, and it's a very funny idea. A lot of the elements of this movie are parodying Star Trek, and the Star Trek sort of mania.
Rickman: I don't think we're supposed to say that. (hand motion)
Conan: Oh, we're not supposed to say that.
Rickman: No, no, I think we're supposed to be something completely un-Star Trek--
Conan:--Ah, legal, legal--
Rickman: Sort of. It's the story of a group of actors who were in something not a million miles away from Star Trek, but it finished 12 years ago. Since when their tragic lives consist of going to conventions and opening computer stores. And at one of these conventions, some genuine aliens come along, and because they've been watching the show for years, thinking it's what they call a historical document, they think we're the real thing, and they take us up into space.
Conan: So, had you ever seen any Star Trek, or been exposed to any of it before?
Rickman: You see, trouble is, it's a program along with westerns and Margaret Thatcher that I would fly across the room (hand shoots out) to the off switch . . .at home.
Conan: So you never saw Thatcher's cameo on Star Trek--a double whammy.
Rickman: (closes eyes and shakes head slowly) If only, if only . . . (laugh and a big grin)
Conan: Well, one thing that'll be hard for you, is, that you've done a lot of great work: an Emmy for Rasputin, Sense and Sensibility, a lot of stage work, yet here in America, you're probably still known as that guy from Die Hard.
Rickman: They sometimes come up to me in the street and say, "Yippee kai-yo (laughter from host and audience) and then a rude word (right hand sweep) after it that I can't say (he bounces his right leg a bit, laughing good-naturedly.)
Conan: So, is that irritating to you, or does that just come along with being an actor?
Rickman: (polite laugh) I think it's just sort of miraculous that they're still doing it after 12 years. And it's WON-derful that I look enough the same person that they recognize (pronounced "reckon-nize," as in the Sheriff's "Reckon-nize this?") me.
Conan: Do you like America? Do you enjoy it here? What is it you like about American culture?
Rickman: I love America because whenever I go home there's something about England--coming from England--that as soon as you walk down the steps of the plane you shrink, and you have to start saying "sorry" and being polite and curtseying and things like that. America just lets me be the klutz that I really am. (Palms open, fingers up.) And they don't mind.
Conan: They welcome it.
Rickman: They welcome it. (interlaced fingers) And then I can have--like I was in the earthquake, in LA.., and this was not my finest hour, in terms of (presses chest) dealing with situations. 'Cause I woke up like everybody else did at four in the morning, 'cause the world had come off its hinges. And somewhere in the back of my mind (right hand flourish) I thought (closes his eyes, knits that center crease in brow) "There something I'm supposed to DO . . . (Right eyebrow up) but I think what I will do is cling to the bed." (He grips the guest chair, illustrating.)
Conan: That's not in the manual.
Rickman: It was not in the manual.
Conan: Cling to the bed and shriek, is not in the manual.
Rickman: (laughs, and twists in chair) Forty-five seconds later, it's over, and then I think (closes eyes again) okay, now what do I do, okay, I'll go and stand in the doorway. (audience giggles) Nothing's happening and I'm standing in the doorway (right hand flourish) and then I think, all right, now I'd better get out of here. But (both eyebrows up) I'm not wearing anything. So, now I have to find some underpants, I decide. So, you can't see a thing (blocks his face with his right hand) you know, your hand is like this, so I'm going like this (he fumbles with hands) for the drawer of the underpants, and I spent a good 30 seconds trying to figure out whether I'd got them on back to front or not. (Two fists, twisting, as audience laughs) "Where's the label?" I'm thinking . . . (Reaches behind himself, and down, with his right hand. More laughter.)
Conan: (laughing) You're not supposed to worry about this stuff in an earthquake.
Rickman: That's what I'm telling you. Then, I think, "Hmm. "I'll be needing my passport." (laughter) Now I'm crawling on the floor (he squinches his eyes closed, feeling his way along the floor with his fingers) you know those safes where you've got to do the numbers (he ruffles his fingers)--
Conan: Mmm-hum. In hotels, yeah--
Rickman: (pressing the imaginary number with his index finger)--and it's completely in the dark, so I'm getting my passport. Then I think, well, I really will get out of here. Went out to the foyer, and found everybody else standing underneath a huge chandelier (right hand in air, fingers pointed up).
Conan: With spikes coming down from it. (motions with pencil)
Rickman: Exactly. (nods head) More idiots. (Smiles. Imaginary itch on right leg, the small fingers do the trick.)
Conan: Do you, can you--do you drive? Can you drive in Los Angeles?
Rickman: I had to learn. I don't have a car in England, because, you know, driving in London would just be finding somewhere to park. And that's--hours long. And so when I went out to LA--which was to make Die Hard--I had to learn to drive. So you know, I got the yellow pages--I don't know what I'm doing--I go like that (his index fingers searches the entries, dabbles around), oh, okay, that driving school (he lands on a choice). I found this wonderful teacher called Jose, (he licks his lips and clears his throat slightly, while audience snickers) who came from LI-ma (twisting his fingers around) in Peru. Which was fine, and he was a wonderful teacher, except that every instruction he gave, had a terrible delayed action to it. 'Cause he would say (with accent) "Tuuurrr-in laight." Pause. "Turrrr-in righde." And I'd be going, "What--what?--What?!" And he'd be going, "Tuuurrr-in laight--(Rickman furiously turns the steering wheel hand over hand to the right, instead of left) "Ohhh, whoaa--"
Conan: (laughing) Too late!
Rickman: (laughing hard) WAY too late. Anyway, he finally got me through the test. (Raises left hand) Second time. (He drops it.) I failed the first time.
Conan: Oh, seriously?
Rickman: Yes. For driving too carefully through a green light. (laughter, he looks at the audience, shrugs with his hands.) I was f--
Conan: They can fail you for that?
Rickman: (twisting about in chair) Well, apparently, unless you drive RECK-lessly enough, (laughter) you don't get to pass.
Conan: Unless you have a gun with you, no.
Rickman: Exactly. (right hand returns to right knee)
Conan: Well, of course, Dogma is in theaters now, and Galaxy Quest opens Christmas day, and like I said, it looks like it's a lot of fun.
Rickman: (hands laced, bit of thumb wriggling again) I think--Henry Knowles, is it? Harry Knowles--and I think I'm quoting him directly from his "Ain't-It-Cool" dot com thing, says--(deadpan, to the audience) "This is the greatest film that has even been made." (Open-mouthed, looks at host, then squints, looking in the distance. Audience and host laughter. Still open-mouthed, he shrugs with his hands, helplessly.) I rest . . . my case
Conan: (laughing) You're taking it in stride. (Host reaches to shake his hand.) Alan Rickman. (Rickman shakes hands with host, laughing also.) Very nice to have you with us. Thanks for being here.
Rickman shakes hands with co-host, smiles at audience. Cheers and applause, as segment ends.