To some people, Patrick Warburton will forever be David Puddy, the burly car mechanic who dated Elaine on and off during the final seasons of “Seinfeld.” If anything can erase that image from their minds, it’s his simultaneously brutal and hilarious performance as Richard Hudson in writer/director Robinson Devor’s big-screen adaptation of the late Charles Willeford’s psycho-pulp classic The Woman Chaser (Tarmac Films). Hudson is a successful used car salesman, circa 1960, who decides what he really wants to do is direct. Charming as hell, Hudson is also a first-class sociopath, and when he runs into “artistic differences” on his pet project, all hell breaks loose.
You’ve never read the book?
I have the novel in my possession, an original copy, purchased off the internet. My wife found it. Paid $250 for it. It’s in pristine condition, all wrapped in plastic, and I can’t open it. I don’t want to mess it up. So I just trusted that Rob did a very faithful adaptation.
It is, save for the fact that you don’t punch the pregnant woman in the stomach and cause her to miscarry. But I understand you did film that scene.
It serves us better to have that out. Everything that Hudson’s done up to that point is, to a degree, forgivable. You slug a pregnant woman in the stomach, you’re going to lose it all right there.
In spite of the title, your character doesn’t do a lot of actual woman chasing.
He does have a few sexual interludes.
With the Salvation Army lady, his secretary, his stepsister... But his obsession is film.
Yeah. It was originally titled The Director. I guess the publisher changed a lot of Willeford’s titles.
As a car salesman, he’s slick and worldly, but when it comes to the world of film, he’s a bit of an innocent.
He’s big and pathetic. That’s what affords him the empathy we give him.
If you weren’t a fan of Willeford, how’d you get drawn into the project?
I read the screenplay and thought, “This is dark and intriguing.” I love the period, the style.
You pulled it off really well, especially considering the fact that the budget was only $800,000.
Which is news to me, because when we were making this movie the budget was supposed to be $250 to $300,000. I think they sunk a lot into post-production. There was no craft service table; no food. I didn’t have a dressing room. I had to go hang out in my old Ford truck. And it was cold, too.
We’d shoot ten days, then we’d leave it for a week. We’d shoot three days, then come back. Everybody would have to go to their regular jobs. Even Rob.
We worked with four DPs. The first guy just got sick of it. Long night shooting, miserable conditions. We had one guy for one day. It’s amazing that in the end it all looks cohesive. Kudos to Devor for holding it together.
You must’ve cared for the project a lot if you were willing to put up with those conditions.
I did. My wife would call up and yell at the director, “You’re taking advantage of my husband!” Honey, no one’s holding a gun to my head. Independent filmmaking is all about sacrificing. It’s all about the role.
You got to do a lot of long dramatic scenes that you probably wouldn’t have had the chance to do otherwise.
This was right after the final episode of Seinfeld. And the common misconception is... There are a lot of opportunities, but a lot of that is for stuff you can’t do, especially if you want to have any sort of longevity in this business.
Puddy, Part 2?
Yeah. A Puddy spin-off. Characters in half-hour TV shows that are similar. You’ve really got to stay away from that. There were times I did stuff that was close — the character in the Cadillac commercials or the cameo in “Scream 3.”
But Devor wasn’t a Seinfeld fan.
He had no clue who Puddy or I was. I had to read for him three or four times to convince him I was the right guy for this project that wasn’t going to pay me a dime!
You put on about twenty pounds for the film?
I went up to about 250. It’s the heaviest I’ve ever been. I just thought, the year’s 1960, he’s a used car salesman, he drinks whiskey, he smokes unfiltered cigarettes... That was my excuse to eat all the fast food I wanted.
In your truck, I imagine.
I had Burger King and Jack In The Box wrappers everywhere. It was a disgusting sight.
Next you’re doing The Tick.
For mid-season, but they’re talking about moving up the air date. We’re going into production in October.
He’s a super hero. You’ll have to be in tip-top shape for the spandex.
I also have the benefit of molded on muscles.
Fake?!
The Tick’s massive. There’s no way I could fill his shoes.
You’ve never read the book?
I have the novel in my possession, an original copy, purchased off the internet. My wife found it. Paid $250 for it. It’s in pristine condition, all wrapped in plastic, and I can’t open it. I don’t want to mess it up. So I just trusted that Rob did a very faithful adaptation.
It is, save for the fact that you don’t punch the pregnant woman in the stomach and cause her to miscarry. But I understand you did film that scene.
It serves us better to have that out. Everything that Hudson’s done up to that point is, to a degree, forgivable. You slug a pregnant woman in the stomach, you’re going to lose it all right there.
In spite of the title, your character doesn’t do a lot of actual woman chasing.
He does have a few sexual interludes.
With the Salvation Army lady, his secretary, his stepsister... But his obsession is film.
Yeah. It was originally titled The Director. I guess the publisher changed a lot of Willeford’s titles.
As a car salesman, he’s slick and worldly, but when it comes to the world of film, he’s a bit of an innocent.
He’s big and pathetic. That’s what affords him the empathy we give him.
If you weren’t a fan of Willeford, how’d you get drawn into the project?
I read the screenplay and thought, “This is dark and intriguing.” I love the period, the style.
You pulled it off really well, especially considering the fact that the budget was only $800,000.
Which is news to me, because when we were making this movie the budget was supposed to be $250 to $300,000. I think they sunk a lot into post-production. There was no craft service table; no food. I didn’t have a dressing room. I had to go hang out in my old Ford truck. And it was cold, too.
We’d shoot ten days, then we’d leave it for a week. We’d shoot three days, then come back. Everybody would have to go to their regular jobs. Even Rob.
We worked with four DPs. The first guy just got sick of it. Long night shooting, miserable conditions. We had one guy for one day. It’s amazing that in the end it all looks cohesive. Kudos to Devor for holding it together.
You must’ve cared for the project a lot if you were willing to put up with those conditions.
I did. My wife would call up and yell at the director, “You’re taking advantage of my husband!” Honey, no one’s holding a gun to my head. Independent filmmaking is all about sacrificing. It’s all about the role.
You got to do a lot of long dramatic scenes that you probably wouldn’t have had the chance to do otherwise.
This was right after the final episode of Seinfeld. And the common misconception is... There are a lot of opportunities, but a lot of that is for stuff you can’t do, especially if you want to have any sort of longevity in this business.
Puddy, Part 2?
Yeah. A Puddy spin-off. Characters in half-hour TV shows that are similar. You’ve really got to stay away from that. There were times I did stuff that was close — the character in the Cadillac commercials or the cameo in “Scream 3.”
But Devor wasn’t a Seinfeld fan.
He had no clue who Puddy or I was. I had to read for him three or four times to convince him I was the right guy for this project that wasn’t going to pay me a dime!
You put on about twenty pounds for the film?
I went up to about 250. It’s the heaviest I’ve ever been. I just thought, the year’s 1960, he’s a used car salesman, he drinks whiskey, he smokes unfiltered cigarettes... That was my excuse to eat all the fast food I wanted.
In your truck, I imagine.
I had Burger King and Jack In The Box wrappers everywhere. It was a disgusting sight.
Next you’re doing The Tick.
For mid-season, but they’re talking about moving up the air date. We’re going into production in October.
He’s a super hero. You’ll have to be in tip-top shape for the spandex.
I also have the benefit of molded on muscles.
Fake?!
The Tick’s massive. There’s no way I could fill his shoes.