And I was like, "Yeah, it's Lou from Boston. Is Bill around?" "One second, please." And then the phone picked up, and he’s like, "Hey, Lou, how you doing?" "I'm good.
How you doing?" He's like, "I'm all right. What are you calling for?" And I said, "We need a utility infielder. I've always liked Randy Ready. What do you say?" There was a pause, and he goes, "Who is this?" And I hung up.
There's nothing more exciting than when the fiction bleeds into the reality, when you see the two of them start to cross. A lot of my fondest memories are those moments: where Dwayne Johnson and Samuel Jackson—at that time, or maybe in history, two of the biggest action stars ever—in the first 10 minutes of [The Other Guys], jump off the building and die. The excitement of seeing that with an audience, I just got such a thrill out of that. And it turns watching the movie into a bit of a live event. That feeling is always so exciting for me, both as a viewer and someone who makes stuff.
Well, there's no version of that brave, terrifying thing quite as bold as the way you end this movie.
Someone asked me why I made the movie. And really, you could almost say it's one simple reason, which is we've watched thousands and thousands of movies, whether they're Marvel or action films or thrillers, and everything always works out in a nifty bow in the end, time after time, for decade after decade.
Clearly, [Don’t Look Up] is an analogy or an allegory for the climate crisis. And the idea that it doesn't end with a nifty bow was the whole drive. I mean, that's why I wrote the script. So, there's two things going on. One is to hit the audience not in a prank way, but in an emotional way. It's a different kind of live event, the way this ending hits an audience. But also, and I include myself in this, I do think a little bit of what's going on with our just puzzling, over-the-top inaction over the climate, almost cartoonish at this point, is that I think we have been turned into audience members. I think we assume someone's going to figure it out. We assume there are grownups that are going to do it. And we forget that it actually takes real acts and real work to get to do things. We're all waiting for someone to solve it. And so, in this case, I did think there was a power to the narrative of a movie kind of screwing with that expectation.
How early did you know how it was going to end?
Oh, from the second we had the idea. There was never one moment ever where it was going to end with the hero coming in to rescue the day. I don't want to give it away, but I knew the nifty bow was never, ever going to be the case. I considered a slightly less definitive ending. I had one that was a little muddier, and it felt wrong. And it's funny. Audiences now, they can smell it. They know it. One of the most remarkable experiences we had on this movie—I've never been so nervous test-screening a movie as test-screening this. And you know what? This is crazy, and it says a lot about the times we live in. It was their favorite part of the movie. I'm not kidding—hands down. Everyone was like, "Thank God they didn't end with the cliche ending. I was so worried they were going to do it." One of the most surprising reactions from an audience I've ever seen in my entire life. And in a weird way, maybe a little foreboding, and at the same time, hopeful. Maybe it's both.