I can’t remember calling him James. It was Jimmy from the off. An email came from his agent: Jimmy wanted to talk about my script but he’d prefer to meet me in person. Could I come to Los Angeles? I was on the next flight. I wanted him badly for the role of Tom Rockwell, a retired air-force colonel with a lot to hide, for my film Out of Blue, a neo-noir adaptation of the Martin Amis novel Night Train, starring Patricia Clarkson as the detective investigating the death of Tom’s daughter.
I met Jimmy at the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills hotel, the beating heart of old Hollywood. I expected him to be late but he was already there, at his regular table, under the best light in the room. He was in his late 70s and full of life and stories. As I sat beside him, I couldn’t stop thinking of all the legendary characters he’d played, all the incredible directors he’d worked with, but I just knew, in order to ensure he said yes to playing Tom, I mustn’t seem in the least intimidated by any of this.
