Actor Michael Rispoli is a rarity in celebrity-obsessed Hollywood: he is a supporting actor in feature films who recognizes that you don’t have to be a major star to be a successful actor.
There are approximately ten actors in the film industry who command upwards of $20 million per picture. This list of actors includes superstars Harrison Ford, Will Smith, Adam Sandler, Tom Cruise and Julia Roberts. These actors are so much larger than life, they can probably be classified more accurately as institutions than simply actors. Their faces and stories pervade American pop culture. So much time and energy is focused on this small handful of actors that the other nearly 100,000 members of the screen actor’s guild (SAG) are often unfairly overlooked by journalists who are more interested in fame than talent.
Actor Michael Rispoli is a member of the other hundred thousand and a rarity in the pages of entertainment and fashion magazines. Hollywood celebrates celebrity and the surreal glow of stardom at the expense of extremely competent actors like Rispoli who realize that success in the field of acting isn’t measured by the degree of fame you achieve but by the ability to land another job in the future.
Rispoli and I are taking a long lunch in Tom’s Diner on the Upper West side of New York City. The diner is bustling with urbanites, Columbia University students and Seinfeld devotees, as Tom’s facade serves as the exterior for the show’s diner, Monk’s Cafe. It is also the "Tom’s Diner" Suzanne Vega sang of.
The interview with Rispoli is a change of pace for me because, for once, my subject isn’t promoting anything. While it’s true that Rispoli will be seen in next summer’s baseball comedy, Mr. 3000, opposite Bernie Mac and Angela Bassett, and can occasionally be seen on the ABC drama 10-8, he is presently relishing the opportunity he has now to read scripts and work in the theater in New York.
Best known for his work as Joe Fusco Jr. in While You Were Sleeping and Spinner Dunn in Death to Smoochy, Rispoli grins when I ask him if he plays a catcher in Mr. 3000. "Yes, I was the catcher," the 40-ish Rispoli tells me. "But you never see me catch. You only see me hitting."
Rispoli isn’t bothered by the automatic assumption that he plays baseball’s most blue-collar position. "Oh, I’m definitely typed," he smiles about the matter. "I’m a working-class, blue collar guy. I’m a cop or a crook."
I probe a little further and ask Rispoli about his being typecast. He is very matter-of-fact about the whole situation and even seems slightly bemused by it. "They’re not going to call me for the Connecticut prep school movie," he assures me. "Am I tempted to try something different? Yeah I am, but…"
After a sip of water, Rispoli launches into a story. "Some friends of mine and I started a theater company a while ago," he starts. "We weren’t working at the time and we said, if we’re not getting work, we’ll make our own. When I was acting there I did Shakespeare and Shaw and O’Neill. We did a lot of new things. It felt very much within my grasp to play those other types of parts." Roles that weren’t looked upon as blue-collar. Rispoli laughs and continues, "I thought I was handsome and sexy, but once I got into the business, I came to find out that Handsome and sexy is six foot tall, size 40 suit and looks good in a tuxedo." Rispoli takes another drink and delivers the punch line. "So I’m Handsome’s best friend."
Despite the popular American belief that no one should ever settle for anything less than the best, Rispoli is decidedly upbeat about his typecasting during our conversation. "It’s what opened the door for me," he says simply. Rather than look at the matter from a cynical perspective, Rispoli prefers to find the good in the situation, noting that without the type casting, he would have had a lot less work to choose from. "The more you’re out there, the more you’re noticed," Rispoli explains. "As soon as people can put your face to your name, more opportunities come." He smiles at me and says, "There is no bad publicity."
Focusing on the positives is an important quality to Rispoli. "Everything in this business is rejection," he states flatly. "Any time somebody tells you that they noticed you or that you did a good job, it’s nice to hear because it gives you fuel to keep going. You have to sustain yourself."
Averaging roughly two features per year for the last ten years and working with such notable directors as Danny DeVito, Brian DePalma, John Dahl, Gus Van Sant and Spike Lee, it’s obvious that people have been taking notice.
A consummate New Yorker, Rispoli was born in the metropolitan area in suburban Tappan and, almost on cue, rolls his eyes when I mentioned the words "Los Angeles" and "energy" in the same sentence. "To me, New York is the greatest city in the world. It’s because of the energy of the people," Rispoli says, commenting on the differences between southern California and Manhattan. "And you can plug into that creative energy. In LA, there’s one person in every car. In New York, you walk down the street and the energy’s everywhere. There are people everywhere. Even if you’re on the subway and practically in someone else’s armpit, you’re exchanging energy. If you’re creative, that energy will spark your creativity."
The most interesting statement Rispoli makes during the course of our interview comes while he is commenting on why he keeps working. "You do films for a bunch of different reasons," Rispoli says, "but the main thing is that you want to keep your legs moving so that when the really good role comes along, you’re ready."
Every film, play or episode of television Rispoli works on enables him to tap into another mind set that may help him further down the road. "Sometimes one moment in a film that you did that you just love can spark your next three performances," Rispoli smiles. "You just think, ‘Man, I nailed that scene. I did it right,’ and it propels you forward."
Rispoli takes a step back from the current conversation and says, "I used to read so many scripts a year and only go in on the ones that I felt a connection with. Now that I’ve got a wife and kids, I’m going to be honest, that’s changed a little bit." He pauses for a second and continues. "Now I go in on stuff I wouldn’t necessarily want to, but I realized [these projects] help me prepare for those really good roles when they do come."
It’s important enough to be said twice.
Judging good roles is hardly an exact science though. "I look to the script first. I have to be able to pull something off the page," Rispoli tells me.
"Another thing about the business is that you never know if a film is going to turn out," he says, tapping his fork on the tabletop. "You hope it’s going to turn out. You start thinking, ‘I’m going to do my best and I’m going to hope that the director and producers are going to try their best." He laughs. "Then you find out that the producer is a rich kid with money from somewhere who just wanted to be a producer."
Rispoli relates the story of when he met with director Andrew Bergman just after While You Were Sleeping hit big in 1994. "The first thing [Bergman] says to me is, ‘What’s it like to be in a hit?’" Rispoli shakes his head. "I said, ‘It feels great.’" He shrugs and wonders what else he was supposed to say to Bergman. He grins across the table at me and then admits in telling fashion: "The truth of the matter is that I didn’t know that I’d ever been in movies that weren’t hits."
