Permanently suntanned with a perfect smile and possessing the uncanny 
		charm and urbane sophistication of a second generation Cary Grant, most 
		people think they’ve got actor George Hamilton figured out. But there’s 
		more than meets the eye to the 69-year-old thespian. Carving out over 50 
		years as an actor, he’s appeared in such acclaimed films as Your 
		Cheatin’ Heart (a Hank Williams biopic), and Love at First Bite, 
		Zorro: The Gay Blade, and – dispelling those critics who questioned 
		his acting skills – delivered a strong performance in The Godfather 
		III. 
		
		His 
		new book, Don’t Mind If I Do, is an engrossing read that charts 
		Hamilton’s career path, from early days in Arkansas to a picture perfect 
		Hollywood life, working with noted directors Louis Malle, Francis Ford 
		Coppola and Vicente Minnelli, forging friendships with Hollywood royalty 
		like Elizabeth Taylor, Cary Grant, Sammy Davis Jr., and Elvis Presley to 
		more recent high profile appearances on Dancing With The Stars. 
		
		
		Reading the acting scouting report on the back of your new book, which 
		cites "his ability to act is marginal," I'd say you did pretty well in 
		your career. 
		
		
		That’s not the real scouting report. There was an original report and I 
		saw it. But that was years ago and I’d have to spend the rest of my life 
		in storage looking for it. So I reconstructed the report with my brother 
		for the back cover but it’s the gist of what was said. I remember 
		reading a similar acting report for Fred Astaire, which said “funny 
		looking guy with a little bit of an ability to dance.” (laughs) I 
		thought that was funny and I love to make a joke out of myself. That’s 
		my sense of humor. 
		
		The 
		truth of the matter is back then, at the start of my career, I probably 
		couldn’t act. I’d never taken an acting lesson and it was not an era 
		where if you went under a contract with a studio that you had to be an 
		actor. They basically bought cattle that were somehow chattel for them 
		and they trained you. Your whole success was based on tenacity and how 
		you photographed and then they would teach you some of the tricks of the 
		trade. I started to develop my own technique. I picked up a lot by 
		working with some of the greatest actors ever. There were some brilliant 
		actors I worked with… where by the very nature of being around them 
		you’d learn something. You’d learn their tricks. You’d learn the way 
		they moved. Then you’d work with a method actor who really got into a 
		role and then you’d work with a British actor who came from the stage 
		whose theory was to just get on with it and that you didn’t have to act. 
		Then there were actors who had to feel. I think those of us who went 
		into acting in that era learned by our own devices. You’d get a great 
		director and you’d feel impotent after you’d worked with him simply 
		because he brought something out of you but you’d take his expertise 
		with you. You had to develop your technique. Then you’d work with a 
		really bad director and say, “I have to save myself form this guy.” Just 
		by trial and error you’d learn. I’ve been an actor for 50 years and I’ve 
		been fortunate enough to work with some of the very best actors and I’ve 
		worked with some really terrible ones. You learn to play tennis with 
		whomever you worked with in the center ring with the big cats. 
		
		
		 Was 
		there a moment you realized you’ve truly arrived as an actor in 
		Hollywood?
Was 
		there a moment you realized you’ve truly arrived as an actor in 
		Hollywood? 
		
		We 
		all feel that you’re only as a good as your last job for at least the 
		first 10, 15, 20 years. Then it becomes 30 years, 35, 40, 45, 50 years 
		in the business, you think there’s no way to erase your fame. Cary Grant 
		told me, “If you don’t make a picture every three years you’re no longer 
		in the business.” I don’t know that I made a picture every three years 
		but I know that I made an enormous amount of movies. Then came a whole 
		new era of television with commercials and reality shows and things like
		Dancing with the Stars. You think you’re dead and then the 
		following day 22 million people see you in one evening and that’s more 
		than ever saw you in your whole career. 
		
		
		Isn’t that ironic? 
		
		It’s 
		ironic and it’s also like being thrown a life preserver. I mean, you get 
		known for other things altogether. I mean, most of these kids don’t even 
		know who John Kennedy was. To be remembered for things that might have 
		not been your best triumphs doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t matter 
		whether it’s a commercial for a chip or Dancing with the Stars or 
		whether you were in Godfather III. They just know you. Then comes 
		that moment where you’re famous for being famous and people stop on the 
		street and point at you and go, “Oh my God!” 
		
		A 
		lot of my friends first remember you from your 1971 film, 
		Evel 
		Knievel. 
		
		The 
		thing about it is at that time Evel was not famous. When we made that 
		movie he took a jump over the fountains and splattered. He had not 
		become a Mattel toy at that time. I put a writer on it named John Milius 
		– who [later] wrote Apocalypse Now. He was the best of the 
		writers of that era. I got him to write the script for me. Then Milius 
		made me read the script to Evel. I realized he was kind of a sociopath 
		and was totally messed. Then all of sudden Evel started to adopt lines 
		out of the movie for himself. So his persona in the movie became more of 
		his persona in real life. He would have been every kid’s hero on one 
		hand, but then he went and took that baseball bat and broke that guy’s 
		legs and that finished his career in the toy business. Evel was very, 
		very difficult and he was jealous of anybody that was gonna play him. He 
		wanted to portray himself and he did go and make his own movie later on. 
		He had a great perception of this warrior that he thought he was and 
		that was good. Then he had this other side of himself where he’d turn on 
		you in a minute. Success is something that you have earn. You have to 
		have a humility for it, because it can leave you in a second. It may 
		remember you but it can sure leave you. I think if you don’t get that 
		and you don’t have gratitude for what you are and where you are it 
		doesn’t come back and it goes away forever. 
		
		
		 You starred 
		in the 1964 film, Your 
		Cheatin' Heart,
		
		
		about country legend Hank Williams. Wasn’t Elvis Presley’s manager, 
		Colonel Tom Parker instrumental in getting you the role?
You starred 
		in the 1964 film, Your 
		Cheatin' Heart,
		
		
		about country legend Hank Williams. Wasn’t Elvis Presley’s manager, 
		Colonel Tom Parker instrumental in getting you the role? 
		
		Yes, 
		The Colonel was absolutely instrumental in helping me get that role. He 
		told me about the movie and said that his boy, Elvis, was offered the 
		film. But he had to turn them down because he felt it wouldn’t be good 
		for Elvis to do a film about another singer. But The Colonel thought 
		Hank Williams was a very interesting guy. He thought this was a picture 
		I could do really well. He hadn’t seen the script, Colonel didn’t care 
		about the script but he did know that the record library was incredible 
		and that MGM owned it. For a moment, if it was in the hands of a really 
		fine filmmaker it would have been an Academy Award performance. But it 
		went to Sam Katzman who, God rest his soul, was the “King of Schlock.” 
		He told me that we had thirteen days to shoot the movie with eleven 
		songs. No matter where we were they were pulling the plug on the 
		thirteenth day. Not many pictures have ever been made in that time. But 
		what happened that preceded it is Colonel told me to “go down to 
		Nashville and fight for it.” He talked to Audrey Williams, Hank’s 
		window. So I went down there and hung out with Audrey (Williams) and 
		listened to all the stories. I went to honky tonks and met his father. 
		When I came back they offered me more for that picture than they had for 
		two years of being under contract. They had to have me because Audrey 
		Williams said, “There’s nobody else that can play him.” As an actor I 
		got a bead on him. I understood the guy before I walked on that stage. 
		So I said to the director, “I’ve got this one in hand. Just get the 
		camera close in on me and change these songs around because these songs 
		are in the wrong order. Let’s have these eleven songs mean something 
		about him.” And that’s what Gene Nelson did. He was very good about 
		that. On the thirteenth day, I finished my death scene and I felt I’d 
		given one of my best performances. I slept an hour a night and I still 
		love that film. It was Hank Williams as far as I was concerned. 
		
		
		Among your work, 
		
		Love at First Bite 
		remains a favorite. 
		
		My 
		career had died and I was looking for something I could do. I was 
		sitting with a crazy comedian and writer named Bob Kaufman I’d worked 
		with on a terrible movie, The Happy Hooker Goes to Washington. I 
		was out by the pool and we were having a few drinks and we started 
		pitching around ideas for a movie.  The ideas he was pitching were just 
		awful. One was “How the West Was Shrunk,” which was about the first 
		Freudian trained analyst out West. I said, “I don’t think so.” Another 
		was “Debbie Dybbuk,” Mel Brooks’ voice in a little girl. It was just one 
		thing after the other. And then he said, “Dracula Sucks.” I said, 
		“Dracula Sucks? That’s a funny idea but I don’t like the title.” At that 
		time you couldn’t use titles like that. Then I said, “What if Dracula 
		was somewhere like New York and he was the victim?” Then I started doing 
		lines that Lenny Bruce would do and we started laughing. He said 
		“Dracula living in New York and being a victim is a funny idea.” So we 
		started writing the script and changed the title to Love at First 
		Bite. 
		
		
		 I 
		didn’t have any backers so I sold “How the West Was Shrunk” to Mel 
		Simon, a guy who owned shopping centers out in Detroit and then at the 
		last minute said, “You know something, you’re missing something even 
		better.” I told him about “Dracula Sucks” and the guy put up the money 
		for the movie. I paid Bob Kaufman to write it, produced the movie, and 
		acted in it. People said it would be the picture that would put the nail 
		in my coffin and it wasn’t. It was a big success and was the one that 
		freed me up.
I 
		didn’t have any backers so I sold “How the West Was Shrunk” to Mel 
		Simon, a guy who owned shopping centers out in Detroit and then at the 
		last minute said, “You know something, you’re missing something even 
		better.” I told him about “Dracula Sucks” and the guy put up the money 
		for the movie. I paid Bob Kaufman to write it, produced the movie, and 
		acted in it. People said it would be the picture that would put the nail 
		in my coffin and it wasn’t. It was a big success and was the one that 
		freed me up. 
		
		
		Before 
		
		Godfather III came along, did you think it was unlikely you’d ever 
		get a meaty role that would show off your acting chops? 
		
		To 
		be honest, I don’t think about having talent or the need to show it off. 
		I was having a drink in the Polo Lounge and I got a call that said 
		Francis Coppola wanted me to come to Rome immediately to Italy for 
		The Godfather and I thought (laughs) “That’s Bob Evans 
		again.” I said, “Tell him I know it’s a prank and to stop it.” Four days 
		later I get a call from the producer on The Godfather, a guy that 
		I did know named Gray Frederickson. He said, “Why won’t you take 
		Francis’s call?” And I said, “What?” And he said, “Francis Coppola has 
		been trying to reach you and you won’t take his call.” And I said, 
		“Because it’s not true, it’s an elaborate prank, don’t you see?” Finally 
		I got a call from a very important guy that I knew who told me, “George, 
		you’ve got to do something because this is a real deal!” I said, “You’ve 
		got to be kidding!” I got on a plane went to Rome, met with Francis and 
		the first thing he said to me was, 
		
		 “What 
		kind of luggage should I get?” And I said, “I beg your pardon?” He said, 
		“I’m gonna go back to Sicily and I have to try and figure out what kind 
		of luggage to get.” I said to myself, now this is a joke. This is a big 
		joke and they’ve pulled it off on me. Then he said, “I don’t know what 
		I’m gonna do with you but I want you in this movie.” He sent me to 
		wardrobe and to makeup and they messed with my hair and they bleached it 
		totally white. Then the next thing I had to do was do a screen test 
		testing another actor, 
		not 
		me and I was playing Al Pacino. I said, “What is this? This is the 
		sickest joke I’ve ever heard.” Finally, Francis said, “You’re gonna play 
		the equivalent of the consigliore in a modern day lawyer field. You’re 
		the lawyer that goes between the Vatican bank and the Corleone family 
		and Wall Street. It had a lot of Freemason stuff going on. I started to 
		realize it was very dark and hidden away. It was a forerunner of all the 
		Freemason stuff that came out later. On my first day I worked in front 
		of 500 extras. I was the first one to work. I was explaining a deal to 
		stock holders. I worked on the very first day to the very last day on 
		that movie. I just stood behind Al (Pacino) and counted his hair. 
		(laughs) I just looked interested all the time and wherever he went 
		I was to shadow him. Al and I became the best of friends and still are. 
		I was all over the movie and people were saying I might get a 
		nomination. Then I went to see the premiere of the film and I started 
		disappearing and I was very disappointed. I found out that they put back 
		in all the Diane Keaton stuff because they were worried about all the 
		Vatican Freemasonry stuff. They’d been warned that it was pretty heavy 
		duty stuff. It was like The Da Vinci Code way before its 
		time. Then when I saw the trilogy and they started putting back all that 
		stuff.
“What 
		kind of luggage should I get?” And I said, “I beg your pardon?” He said, 
		“I’m gonna go back to Sicily and I have to try and figure out what kind 
		of luggage to get.” I said to myself, now this is a joke. This is a big 
		joke and they’ve pulled it off on me. Then he said, “I don’t know what 
		I’m gonna do with you but I want you in this movie.” He sent me to 
		wardrobe and to makeup and they messed with my hair and they bleached it 
		totally white. Then the next thing I had to do was do a screen test 
		testing another actor, 
		not 
		me and I was playing Al Pacino. I said, “What is this? This is the 
		sickest joke I’ve ever heard.” Finally, Francis said, “You’re gonna play 
		the equivalent of the consigliore in a modern day lawyer field. You’re 
		the lawyer that goes between the Vatican bank and the Corleone family 
		and Wall Street. It had a lot of Freemason stuff going on. I started to 
		realize it was very dark and hidden away. It was a forerunner of all the 
		Freemason stuff that came out later. On my first day I worked in front 
		of 500 extras. I was the first one to work. I was explaining a deal to 
		stock holders. I worked on the very first day to the very last day on 
		that movie. I just stood behind Al (Pacino) and counted his hair. 
		(laughs) I just looked interested all the time and wherever he went 
		I was to shadow him. Al and I became the best of friends and still are. 
		I was all over the movie and people were saying I might get a 
		nomination. Then I went to see the premiere of the film and I started 
		disappearing and I was very disappointed. I found out that they put back 
		in all the Diane Keaton stuff because they were worried about all the 
		Vatican Freemasonry stuff. They’d been warned that it was pretty heavy 
		duty stuff. It was like The Da Vinci Code way before its 
		time. Then when I saw the trilogy and they started putting back all that 
		stuff. 
		
		Had 
		it not been attached to the 
		
		Godfather name, the film would have been better received. 
		
		I 
		was there the day Winona Ryder came in and she was supposed to do it 
		after Madonna fell out. I think Francis really did want his daughter 
		Sofia in it. I think she’s very talented and very smart, a good producer 
		and director.  But I didn’t think she should do that role. When they put 
		her in it, it changed the whole context of the film. Winona was very 
		tired. Johnny Depp was with her and I was in the makeup room and she put 
		her head down for a few minutes and that was Francis’ chance to say 
		adios and he brought in his daughter. 
		
		
		Looking back at your life, if you could whisper one piece of advice in 
		the ear of a young George Hamilton, what would you say and why? 
		
		I 
		think that what I said earlier is really the real thing because I’ve got 
		a young George Hamilton, who’s my son, Ashley. We just finished doing 
		The View together. He did a comedy segment on the show that was 
		great. We were walking down the street afterwards and there were agents 
		calling him on the phone. I said, “It’s amazing. Here we are an hour 
		after The View and look at all the people stopping on the street 
		and pointing at you. All of sudden you’re on the map but don’t ever 
		forget what was preceding that moment. Be grateful for what it is. It’ll 
		always come to you as long as you’re grateful. But if you start to get a 
		big head about this it goes away. I should know. I’ve been doing this 
		for 50 years.” And he said, “Yeah, you know you’re right dad.” We walked 
		arm in arm down Madison Avenue and it was like I’d gone back 50 years. 
		It was the best. It was like me being with me all of a sudden. 
		(laughs)
		
		
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