Neeson: A Working Actor Trying to Keep It Quiet

As overworked as the monicker might be, Irish actor Liam Neeson--whose busy film career includes a role in Clint Eastwood’s current “The Dead Pool”--is a true chameleon.

Neeson sat at a Santa Monica diner for 1 1/2 hours recently, straddling a stool at the counter drinking coffee and eating a fruit plate, and not one person in this celebrity-savvy town even noticed him. It might bother some actors who stand 6 feet 4 to be described as nondescript, but not standing out is something Neeson relishes.

The 35-year-old actor, who now lives in Santa Monica, was uncomfortable posing for photos on Main Street, where the process just might have drawn attention to him. He even cringed at the mention of the word “career,” even though he has just finished work on “The Good Mother” with director Leonard Nimoy for Touchstone Pictures and is about to begin another project with Patrick Swayze.

“Shouldn’t we do this inside somewhere?” Neeson kept asking, as he scanned nearby storefronts for a less conspicuous place to pose.

“I’m just not fond of being brazen about it,” Neeson would say later, comfortably settled back down at the diner’s counter. “The comparison is ridiculous, maybe, but in a sense you should have some of the punching-the-clock air about you when you’re an actor. You work very hard, and you shouldn’t put on the celebrity part of it.”

As a result of such a ruthless work ethic, Neeson tends to be a pretty harsh self-critic, pointing out faults in his various film turns, citing “not enough danger” or “too much research, not enough exploration” as criticisms.

He’s often played the “counterbalances” to a strong central character. The non-hearing, non-speaking Vietnam vet to Cher’s attorney in “Suspect.” The solid scrap merchant lover in “Duet for One” to Julie Andrews’ paralyzed musician. And the spidery, sardonic grade-Z horror film director in “The Dead Pool.”

Neeson also has a craftsman’s healthy lack of regard for non-acting celebrities, dismissing them into the realm of snake-oil salesmen and bunco artists. Neeson, a one-time physics student, believes actors need to earn juicy film parts, not just desire them.

“It’s boring, I know, but you must pay your dues, I’m afraid; nothing worthwhile comes easily,” said Neeson, who learned much of his craft on stage at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. “Oh God, now listen to me; what a bore I’m becoming.”

Neeson said he was impressed with the set-up at Eastwood’s Malpaso Co. In a soft baritone brogue, he spoke of the family-like atmosphere.

“It’s a company where everybody knows everyone else . . . things run along very fast but very low-key.”

And working opposite Eastwood?

“Tremendous respect, (he’s) a complete professional,” Neeson said. “But also a dry wit, devastating. He knows where he is and what he’s doing every second. He’s the last descendant of those great instinctual Hollywood actors.”

Neeson also admires Eastwood’s independent producer status and said that he, too, would like some day to get “a couple of smallish pictures” onto the screen under his own imprimatur.

“That, to me, would be a sign I’d really succeeded,” Neeson said. “It’s great to be working all the time, and to actually pay the rent and put some money aside just from acting. Who’d ever of thought it possible, you know? But, when you can finance your own visions up there, and not just be a glamorous hired hand . . . that’s success.”