Bill Murray
Los Angeles, CA 1988
Paramount hired me to shoot this Christmas movie with Bill Murray. They say, “Look, he did the movie, but we have to get his face on the poster. He wanted to meet you, so we need you to go and convince him he’s got to show up for this shoot. Offer him whatever it takes. Just get the shot.”
So I drive out to the lot to meet Bill and he says, “You want to go hit some golf balls?” We’re driving through the streets of LA and pull up at a red light next to a car full of pretty girls. That was the end of the golf balls.
I finally sit down with him and say, “Look, we’ve got to get this shoot done tomorrow, what do you need to make it happen?” “I want some nice, friendly people to come hang out on set,” he says. I had an idea of what might work. Still fully aware this guy’s likely to disappear on me, I say “I’ll pick you up at 8am. Where are you staying?” “The Holiday Inn in Santa Monica,” replies Bill Murray. “What?” I laugh, thinking he’s pulling one over on me. “It’s mostly Japanese tourists there,” he says, “They have no idea who I am.” This was before Lost in Translation.
The next morning, I show up at the Holiday Inn, and call up to Bill Murray’s room. He answers the phone, “Murray, homicide.”
We drive to set, where he’s immediately greeted by a lovely group of models I’d hired for the day. They hung out on set and in the dressing room with Bill, laughing at his jokes and feeding him grapes while he was getting into makeup. I realized he needed more of an audience than just me.
He gave me everything we needed that day for the shoot. I went on to do several other movie posters with him, from Groundhog Day to Ghostbusters. We built this fun, friendly relationship.
Years later, my 11-year-old nephew was out playing his cello with his elementary school orchestra at a little event at the Met, and Bill Murray happened to be there. My little nephew went up to him and said, “Hey, Mr. Murray. You know my uncle the photographer Timothy White,” to which Bill Murray responded, “That asshole?” and walked away, leaving all these little school kids dumbfounded. Bill is just a quirky guy like that.
Each photograph is produced as an archival pigment print on Canson Platine Fibre Rag paper. All prints are hand-signed by the artist and offered as editioned Artist Proofs (A/P).
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