Call it courage or call it foolishness, Kevin Costner has it in abundance.
One of Hollywood’s most successful star-producers, Costner long prospered by defying conventional showbiz wisdom.
He had back-to-back grand slams with “Bull Durham” and “Field of Dreams” when baseball-themed movies were considered easy box-office outs. His lengthy directing debut, “Dances With Wolves,” was a huge hit and earned Best Picture and Director Oscars at a time when westerns had been commercially dead for a decade and ignored by the academy for over half a century.
Costner’s contrary winning streak continued well into the ’90s with such unlikely projects as “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves,” “JFK” and “The Bodyguard.” But the box-office magic was stopped by a series of oddball projects — “A Perfect World,” “The War,” a strangely lethargic “Wyatt Earp.”
Private and professional meltdown appeared to follow. Costner produced and starred in “Waterworld,” a futuristic fantasy that went wildly out of control and over budget and has stood — until James Cameron’s “Titanic” — as the most expensive Hollywood movie ever made. At the same time, Costner’s wife of 17 years, Cindy, sued for divorce, it was whispered, quite loudly, on grounds of rampant infidelity.
Now Costner is back with “The Postman,” his second directing effort. Like “Waterworld,” it’s set in a post-apocalyptic future. Like “Dances With Wolves,” it’s long, almost three hours. Like most of Costner’s films, it exudes an ornery individuality that may not appear, at first glance, commercially viable.
And like Kevin Costner, it’s shot through with a longing for redemption, hidden behind a jaunty mask of adventurous heroics.
“I like having character come out of an adventure,” says Costner. “I like hearing people talk if it’s advancing the story, if it’s provocative, and that’s not in fashion; it’s like an endangered species.”
Communication itself is on the endangered list in “The Postman.” Based on David Brin’s novel, the film is set in 2013 Oregon, after some kind of socio-ecological disaster has shattered the United States, leaving a few survivors in isolated towns. A cavalry of fanatic warriors called the Holnists, led by the monomaniacal Gen. Bethlehem (Will Patton), is trying to establish a despotic dictatorship over the post-industrial remains of civilization.
Getting on the wrong side of Bethlehem is Costner’s wandering entertainer. When the survival-conscious con artist discovers a sack of undelivered, pre-collapse mail, he takes it to a town, claiming to represent a re-established government and the imminent return of the American way of life. Much to his surprise, he becomes the leader of a youthful, Pony Express-like militia that’s determined to turn his white lies into reality.
It’s got horses. It’s got that end-of-the-world setting. It’s got Costner making like the scruffy, reluctant hero. Hey, this has all worked for him before. And sometimes it hasn’t.
“I’ve tried to not get stuck in genres, but it’s pretty obvious a lot of times, in American film, the roles that I probably should be playing,” Costner admits. “But, as opposed to always trying to show people that I can act, I usually have to try to act smart about it and take the role that I should take. I’ll play different things; I just have to find the kind of writing that makes sense.”
In the public eye, it’s recently looked like Costner’s been playing the stereotypical Hollywood jerk. True to form, the actor seeks no sympathy nor makes any apologies for his romantic missteps, which include fathering a child out of wedlock since his divorce. Still, he likes to think that he’s learned something.
“It’s been rough, personally,” he acknowledges. “But I have a very great life. Not a perfect life, but a great one. Being in the position I’m at, things have happened to me and happened publicly. I’ve had to figure out how to hold my head up and understand, but it’s also been a great three or four years.
When talking about Cindy, his not-entirely-lost college sweetheart, Costner still sounds like a man in love. Or at least one putting up a very gallant front.
“What no one ever talks about is how great a mother Cindy is and how good a friend she is to me. We have a love that does not translate in magazines and won’t ever make sense to anybody else,” he says.
Costner dotes on their three children. In fact, in a rare lapse of courage, he put them all in “The Postman”: 13-year-old Annie plays a pony-express rider, 11-year-old Lily sings “America the Beautiful’ and 9-year-old Joe mails a very significant letter.
“Well, let’s deal with human nature,” Costner cracks. “When you cast one and you’ve got three, you’ve got problems. But the parts were small, and you should have the experience of working with your children like I had in this movie. It was a great thing to suddenly not be their father and be their director, and there was this little person there that has to do this thing. And to see them all do it, for me, was terribly satisfying.”
From family to religion and patriotism, Costner appears to be hitting all the traditional-values buttons with “The Postman.”
“I’m not afraid of religion,” he says. “People hold onto different things, and I felt that it was really within the realm of this movie that someone says `Let us pray as a community.’ When things are stripped away from you, a lot of us will go back to our religious upbringings. A lot of us do believe that there is something more powerful than ourselves, something guiding our life besides ourselves.”
