WARNING!! If you are easily offended DO NOT read this article! This article is NC-17! It was published in Playboy with a male audience in mind... Playboy Interview: David Duchovny by Lawrence Grobel A candid conversation with the brooding "X-files" star about life on the set with Gillian Anderson, life at home with Téa Leoni and life on the road with porno tapes
Playboy Interview: David Duchovny by Lawrence Grobel A candid conversation with the brooding "X-files" star about life on the set with Gillian Anderson, life at home with Téa Leoni and life on the road with porno tapes
A candid conversation with the brooding "X-files" star about life on the set with Gillian Anderson, life at home with Téa Leoni and life on the road with porno tapes
At the heart of all this attention is Duchovny. He was born on August 7, 1960 and grew up in New York City. When he was 11, his parents split up and he and his sister and brother stayed with their Scottish-born mother, Margaret, then a teacher. His father, Amram, a playwright ( The Trial of Lee Harvey Oswald ) and publicist who edited the humorous book The Wisdom of Spiro T. Agnew , moved to Boston after the divorce and now lives in Paris. Duchovny won a scholarship to Collegiate, an exclusive rep school in Manhattan, where one of his fellow students was John Kennedy Jr. Duchovny excelled in sports (baseball and basketball) and academics (he was valedictorian) and was accepted to four Ivy League schools (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Brown). He chose Princeton for undergraduate and Yale for graduate school (on a teaching fellowship), where he studied modern literature, concentrating on Samuel Beckett. To the chagrin of his mother, he never completed his doctorate because a friend introduced him to acting as a way to suppplement his income (he also worked as a bartender during the summer). Duchovny had discovered his profession. He started doing commercials in 1985 and auditioned for parts in the movies Bull Durham and Valmont . It was director Henry Jaglom who recognized his potential and cast him as a seducer in his 1989 film New Year's Day . Duchovny followed that with small parts in Venice Venice , Julia Has Two Lovers , The Rapture , Beethoven , Ruby and Chaplin . In 1993 he appeared with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis in Kalifornia . That same year The X-Files creator Chris Carter thought Duchovny might be right for playing Fox Mulder. Duchovny also gained notoriety for his sexually adventurous roles. He dressed in drag for Twin Peaks , flirted openly with Garry Shandling during a running story line on The Larry Sanders Show and appeared as a regular character on Showtime's erotic breakthrough series, Red Shoe Diaries . Like most TV actors, Duchovny has bigscreen ambitions. His X-Files contract is up in two years, and he plans to leave TV behind (though he will continue to star as Fox Mulder in the series of X-Files movies the studio hopes will live on long after the TV show dies). Duchovny starred in the little seen movie Playing God in 1997, about a doctor who is coerced into working for the Mob. Movie roles might be easier to come by now that the series has switched locations. The X-Files was originally filmed in Vancouver, which gave the show its moody, rainy look (and saved the studio from paying Hollywood salaries to the crew). But when Duchovny fell in love with and married Téa Leoni (who starred in the TV show The Naked Truth and the films Flirting With Disaster and Deep Impact ), the long shooting schedule and lengthy separations began to drag on him. Furthermore, he managed to offend Canadians when he complained to a reporter that "Vancouver is a nice place if you like 400 inches of rainfall a day." Soon after, the marquee on a local strip club suggested that Duchovny go home, and he took the advice, persuading the producers to move the show from Canada to Los Angeles. To find out more about this unorthodox actor, PLAYBOY sent Contributing Editor Lawrence Grobel (whose last interview was with Christopher Walken) to the Fox lot and on location. Grobel's report follows: "The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
He started doing commercials in 1985 and auditioned for parts in the movies Bull Durham and Valmont . It was director Henry Jaglom who recognized his potential and cast him as a seducer in his 1989 film New Year's Day . Duchovny followed that with small parts in Venice Venice , Julia Has Two Lovers , The Rapture , Beethoven , Ruby and Chaplin . In 1993 he appeared with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis in Kalifornia . That same year The X-Files creator Chris Carter thought Duchovny might be right for playing Fox Mulder. Duchovny also gained notoriety for his sexually adventurous roles. He dressed in drag for Twin Peaks , flirted openly with Garry Shandling during a running story line on The Larry Sanders Show and appeared as a regular character on Showtime's erotic breakthrough series, Red Shoe Diaries . Like most TV actors, Duchovny has bigscreen ambitions. His X-Files contract is up in two years, and he plans to leave TV behind (though he will continue to star as Fox Mulder in the series of X-Files movies the studio hopes will live on long after the TV show dies). Duchovny starred in the little seen movie Playing God in 1997, about a doctor who is coerced into working for the Mob. Movie roles might be easier to come by now that the series has switched locations. The X-Files was originally filmed in Vancouver, which gave the show its moody, rainy look (and saved the studio from paying Hollywood salaries to the crew). But when Duchovny fell in love with and married Téa Leoni (who starred in the TV show The Naked Truth and the films Flirting With Disaster and Deep Impact ), the long shooting schedule and lengthy separations began to drag on him. Furthermore, he managed to offend Canadians when he complained to a reporter that "Vancouver is a nice place if you like 400 inches of rainfall a day." Soon after, the marquee on a local strip club suggested that Duchovny go home, and he took the advice, persuading the producers to move the show from Canada to Los Angeles. To find out more about this unorthodox actor, PLAYBOY sent Contributing Editor Lawrence Grobel (whose last interview was with Christopher Walken) to the Fox lot and on location. Grobel's report follows: "The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
Duchovny also gained notoriety for his sexually adventurous roles. He dressed in drag for Twin Peaks , flirted openly with Garry Shandling during a running story line on The Larry Sanders Show and appeared as a regular character on Showtime's erotic breakthrough series, Red Shoe Diaries . Like most TV actors, Duchovny has bigscreen ambitions. His X-Files contract is up in two years, and he plans to leave TV behind (though he will continue to star as Fox Mulder in the series of X-Files movies the studio hopes will live on long after the TV show dies). Duchovny starred in the little seen movie Playing God in 1997, about a doctor who is coerced into working for the Mob. Movie roles might be easier to come by now that the series has switched locations. The X-Files was originally filmed in Vancouver, which gave the show its moody, rainy look (and saved the studio from paying Hollywood salaries to the crew). But when Duchovny fell in love with and married Téa Leoni (who starred in the TV show The Naked Truth and the films Flirting With Disaster and Deep Impact ), the long shooting schedule and lengthy separations began to drag on him. Furthermore, he managed to offend Canadians when he complained to a reporter that "Vancouver is a nice place if you like 400 inches of rainfall a day." Soon after, the marquee on a local strip club suggested that Duchovny go home, and he took the advice, persuading the producers to move the show from Canada to Los Angeles. To find out more about this unorthodox actor, PLAYBOY sent Contributing Editor Lawrence Grobel (whose last interview was with Christopher Walken) to the Fox lot and on location. Grobel's report follows: "The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
Like most TV actors, Duchovny has bigscreen ambitions. His X-Files contract is up in two years, and he plans to leave TV behind (though he will continue to star as Fox Mulder in the series of X-Files movies the studio hopes will live on long after the TV show dies). Duchovny starred in the little seen movie Playing God in 1997, about a doctor who is coerced into working for the Mob. Movie roles might be easier to come by now that the series has switched locations. The X-Files was originally filmed in Vancouver, which gave the show its moody, rainy look (and saved the studio from paying Hollywood salaries to the crew). But when Duchovny fell in love with and married Téa Leoni (who starred in the TV show The Naked Truth and the films Flirting With Disaster and Deep Impact ), the long shooting schedule and lengthy separations began to drag on him. Furthermore, he managed to offend Canadians when he complained to a reporter that "Vancouver is a nice place if you like 400 inches of rainfall a day." Soon after, the marquee on a local strip club suggested that Duchovny go home, and he took the advice, persuading the producers to move the show from Canada to Los Angeles. To find out more about this unorthodox actor, PLAYBOY sent Contributing Editor Lawrence Grobel (whose last interview was with Christopher Walken) to the Fox lot and on location. Grobel's report follows: "The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
Movie roles might be easier to come by now that the series has switched locations. The X-Files was originally filmed in Vancouver, which gave the show its moody, rainy look (and saved the studio from paying Hollywood salaries to the crew). But when Duchovny fell in love with and married Téa Leoni (who starred in the TV show The Naked Truth and the films Flirting With Disaster and Deep Impact ), the long shooting schedule and lengthy separations began to drag on him. Furthermore, he managed to offend Canadians when he complained to a reporter that "Vancouver is a nice place if you like 400 inches of rainfall a day." Soon after, the marquee on a local strip club suggested that Duchovny go home, and he took the advice, persuading the producers to move the show from Canada to Los Angeles. To find out more about this unorthodox actor, PLAYBOY sent Contributing Editor Lawrence Grobel (whose last interview was with Christopher Walken) to the Fox lot and on location. Grobel's report follows: "The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
To find out more about this unorthodox actor, PLAYBOY sent Contributing Editor Lawrence Grobel (whose last interview was with Christopher Walken) to the Fox lot and on location. Grobel's report follows: "The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
"The first few times we met, Duchovny was in his trailer on the Fox lot, putting the finishing touches on the X-Files movie. There were constant interruptions--visitors who wanted to say hello or have a picture taken or signed, studio heads who wanted, as Duchovny told me after they left, 'to blow smoke up my ass.' He was as interested in asking me questions about people I had interviewed for PLAYBOY as he was in answering my questions. 'Which actors did Brando say he admired?' he wanted to know. 'Would Pacino rather direct than act? Why won't he do ads in Japan?' 'How does Anthony Hopkins memorize his lines?' 'What did Soul Bellow think of the dramatization of Seize the Day ?' 'How does Joyce Carol Oates feel she can write well about men?' "For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
"For our final sessions, we spoke in his TV trailer in San Pedro, a few months after The X-Files: Fight the Future had come out and he was back playing Mulder for the series. He was pleased with a poem of his that a magazine had published and showed me others he had written and hoped to turn into a book. I read his poems, offered my suggestions (for whatever they were worth) and then we got down to business."
Playboy: How much time have you spent in therapy, trying to figure out who you are? Duchovny: I have a therapist I trust. I've known him six years. When we were shooting in Vancouver I called him, we did the phone thing. Each session lasted an hour. And I also paid for the call, which I didn't think was fair--he should have paid. I'm good on the phone. My view of therapy is that it helps you tell the story of your life to yourself as you're living it, in a way that makes you happier than you might be without it. I don't really believe it's a way of getting to the truth, and I don't believe it can heal you. It teaches you to seize the narrative of your life in a way that makes it better for you. That's what I've gotten out of it. I now have a different view on the events of my life and my participation in them. Playboy: So you're enjoying a better made-up life than whatever the reality might be? Duchovny: [ Laughs ] No, no. I tell him the terrible things that I do and he tells me they're not so terrible. "Here, let's look at it this way." There's a therapist named James Hillman who I like very much, and that's his thinking--that the self is a fictional creation anyway. Therapy enables you to seize control of that fictionalization and not be made by other people. If the greatest artwork in life is the creation of who you are, then it’s good to apprentice to a good therapist. Playboy: Some people we know do Freudian therapy five days a week. Duchovny: My dad did that for a while. I can't imagine it. I don't have that much to say. My internal monolog is heavy, but I can't keep talking to somebody like that. Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: I have a therapist I trust. I've known him six years. When we were shooting in Vancouver I called him, we did the phone thing. Each session lasted an hour. And I also paid for the call, which I didn't think was fair--he should have paid. I'm good on the phone. My view of therapy is that it helps you tell the story of your life to yourself as you're living it, in a way that makes you happier than you might be without it. I don't really believe it's a way of getting to the truth, and I don't believe it can heal you. It teaches you to seize the narrative of your life in a way that makes it better for you. That's what I've gotten out of it. I now have a different view on the events of my life and my participation in them. Playboy: So you're enjoying a better made-up life than whatever the reality might be? Duchovny: [ Laughs ] No, no. I tell him the terrible things that I do and he tells me they're not so terrible. "Here, let's look at it this way." There's a therapist named James Hillman who I like very much, and that's his thinking--that the self is a fictional creation anyway. Therapy enables you to seize control of that fictionalization and not be made by other people. If the greatest artwork in life is the creation of who you are, then it’s good to apprentice to a good therapist. Playboy: Some people we know do Freudian therapy five days a week. Duchovny: My dad did that for a while. I can't imagine it. I don't have that much to say. My internal monolog is heavy, but I can't keep talking to somebody like that. Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: So you're enjoying a better made-up life than whatever the reality might be? Duchovny: [ Laughs ] No, no. I tell him the terrible things that I do and he tells me they're not so terrible. "Here, let's look at it this way." There's a therapist named James Hillman who I like very much, and that's his thinking--that the self is a fictional creation anyway. Therapy enables you to seize control of that fictionalization and not be made by other people. If the greatest artwork in life is the creation of who you are, then it’s good to apprentice to a good therapist. Playboy: Some people we know do Freudian therapy five days a week. Duchovny: My dad did that for a while. I can't imagine it. I don't have that much to say. My internal monolog is heavy, but I can't keep talking to somebody like that. Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: [ Laughs ] No, no. I tell him the terrible things that I do and he tells me they're not so terrible. "Here, let's look at it this way." There's a therapist named James Hillman who I like very much, and that's his thinking--that the self is a fictional creation anyway. Therapy enables you to seize control of that fictionalization and not be made by other people. If the greatest artwork in life is the creation of who you are, then it’s good to apprentice to a good therapist. Playboy: Some people we know do Freudian therapy five days a week. Duchovny: My dad did that for a while. I can't imagine it. I don't have that much to say. My internal monolog is heavy, but I can't keep talking to somebody like that. Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: Some people we know do Freudian therapy five days a week. Duchovny: My dad did that for a while. I can't imagine it. I don't have that much to say. My internal monolog is heavy, but I can't keep talking to somebody like that. Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: My dad did that for a while. I can't imagine it. I don't have that much to say. My internal monolog is heavy, but I can't keep talking to somebody like that. Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: With that said, how do you feel about doing interviews? Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: I get interviewed out. There are only so many interviews I want to do. I get tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I repeat myself, which makes me feel like an imposter. It can send you into a funk. One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
One of the tricks of interviewing that always kills me is a question like, "Tell me about your acting style." And I'll say, "Well, the kind of acting that I do is blah blah blah." Then that will appear in the article without the question, like I just started talking about my acting style. Why do actors always appear so self-centered? Well, they've got people asking them questions about themselves. It's not their choice to talk about themselves. I would rather talk about other people. It's more interesting to hear about you than to talk about me. I like it when Norman Mailer interviews somebody because it's always about Mailer. You know you're safe with him, because you don't have to talk much about yourself. You'll talk about Mailer's impression of you and how you remind him of him. Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Newsweek felt so bad about putting us on the cover that they had to insult us in the article. There was this give-and-take in that article where they asked me, like you did, if The X-Files is a religious show. I said, "It's as religious as Howdy Doody." The writer says, "No, but really--" And I go, "Well, it has to do with people having metaphysical yearnings that are no longer answered in traditional ways." Then I see the article and it says, "Duchovny alternates between flip and pretentious." Well, where else could I fall? What were the possibilities for me? You asked me the question, I tried to tell you what I think, you didn't accept that so I tried to answer it in the terms you gave me. And then you present me as an obnoxious high schooler-pretentious former Yale graduate student, putting me in the most clichiéd group. After that article I just went, "Fuck it. I'm not going to win this one." So I decided to be quiet. This will be the last interview I'll do for a while. I have no reason to publicize the TV show. I felt loyal to the movie and I wanted to get my face out there. I played that game. But when you see that kind of shit come back at you, it's painful. Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: Whose ideas in this century have intoxicated you? Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: Freud. Nietzsche. Wallace Stevens. Darwin is probably the most revolutionary thinker and most influential of all time. Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: Would these people be the ones you'd like to have at the proverbial dinner with historical figures? Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: Nah, you don't know them, they're not famous. You've got to think party. If you have Darwin, Christ and Nietzsche, they're all going to talk at once. You need somebody who listens. Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: Who would you have, then? Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: Gee. Christ. Buddha. Elvis for a little fame. We'd retire to the drawing room and Elvis would sing a bit. Shakespeare would be interesting because he was an actor; I could talk to him about acting and writing. And the fifth? Who's cooking? Get Wolfgang Puck. Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Playboy: So, no women at your table? Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Duchovny: That's true. Joan of Arc. Or Anne Hutchinson. Or Anne Boleyn, because she was hot and would have some good gossipy stuff about that time. Typhoid Mary I'd want to talk to, as long as she wouldn't spill.
Grobel, Lawrence. December 1998. "David Duchovny." Playboy Magazine .