I was recently gifted the rare opportunity to chat one on one with our Captain Dallas himself, Tom Skerritt.
He lives in a neighborhood not far from mine and I’ve miraculously run into him a couple times.
The first time was at a small neighborhood market. I was about to get in line with my items and I found myself face to face with an elderly gent who insisted I go ahead. As I finally did I realized…WHO IT WAS. Little did the grandfatherly sir know that the person he’d just let into line had been illustrating younger photos of him only the night before in a comic book. While this was still dawning on me, the iconic voice behind me said liltingly “Looks like you’re in for a fun night” noting my ‘Netflix and Chill’ Ben & Jerry’s pint. I’m a 41 year old man, but I felt as if my grandfather had, I don’t know, given me his blessing on prom night or something? I chuckled - probably giggled - casual as could be, and had the wherewithal to…leave it at that.
Shortly thereafter chance granted me a second crossing of paths. This time I introduced myself, told him about the Special Order project and even showed him a couple illustrations which included his likeness. His response: “You got it wrong. Where are all the gray hairs?” We had a laugh, something this guy seems to be good for at momentary notice, and ended up taking a stroll. Early in our conversation I asked for a photo with him to which he instantly agreed. I thanked him and I must have seemed like a little kid because he took his cap and put it on my head for a second like a relative tossling your hair.
We walked.
He mused about Ian Holm for a moment, saddened by the thespian’s passing. Not wanting to fan-boy out on the 90 year old, who probably rarely ponders a role he accepted decades ago, I widened our aperture to the art world at large, as I often will. I’m curious about how people feel about art, no matter who they are; sometimes wildly disparate significances and focal points different people find in art is like an impossible debate, that leaves you reliably and safely convinced of any argument.
He began by divulging his regimen of writing:
“I write every single day.”
This really impressed me. Jerry Seinfeld said in some interview “Writing is literally the hardest thing in the world”, which as an artist who monkeys on more than one artistic branch, I wholeheartedly agree with.
I told him about my father, a master painter he’ll never meet yet seemed surprisingly intrigued about, and my Special Order cowriter, whose short film ‘T-Minus’ has been mopping the festival circuit floors. At which point I believe the conversation turned to luck; I’d been gifted with the people I’d grown up with and crossed paths with in my life. He said something to the effect of all art being luck, as we peered into the window of a local art studio. He waxed on the film industry, how things are more upside down than ever, something he clearly still cares deeply about. I asked about his production company, Triple Squirrels, which a few years ago was internet bombing dredged up early film clips as contemporized memes and gifs, in an honorable effort to keep early films alive. Tom touched on some small films he was funding and what budgets they start at. It was really illuminating and flat out inspiring to hear this Top Gun, Alien, and Contact star go on about film, acting and even painting.
Life doesn’t end at any point while you’re still here. Tom Skeritt is 90 years old.
Over a year later, last week, I ran into him one more time crossing paths on the street. I called out ‘Hey Tom!’ to which he turned to face me, arms behind his back at attention, and flashed his unmistakable, toothy smile.
We exchanged niceties (I’m not
Sure he truly remembered me. Why would he?) And I asked about a film he was in that recently wrapped. His response: “oh that, I was just helping out a friend. I didn’t do anything important.” He chuckled. I said nonsense, everything is important, right? He stopped for a moment and really looked at me and said “Yes. Every day is important.”
We parted ways. Those are probably my only times with Tom, as later that was the last day I was working in that neighborhood.
I’ll cherish these memories for a lifetime as Alien has meant so much to me and had a quizzically meaningful impact on my existence from a young age. What these interactions have telegraphed to me is that films really are generated from the efforts by real people with real ideas and convictions. In an industry that’s so often - and increasingly - associated with banality and a detatchement from commonality, Tom was a beacon of reason, reality, and relatability.
Captain Dallas at 90. I’ve had some elderly wisdom sponged over me throughout life, but TomSkerrit, not torn up by a mere xenomorph, and unfazed by age, was truly a thing for me to behold.
Kinda unreal.