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I mention it, of course, because it’s the rare moment of real color to come out of such interviews. That’s a terrible OCD: Gotta draw at least 20 dicks a day or me family will die.” “For a minute I was like, ‘Are you drawing dicks without looking down?’ That’s a dick that’s another dick. “Are you writing without actually writing?” he asks, warm peals of laughter shoved between sentences.

#PARK ISALE NEW ORLEANS MOVIE#

I am nonetheless caught flat-footed when he interrupts his thoughts on “Pure Comedy” to ask after my hasty scribbling-by force of habit, I take copious notes during interviews even when my recorder’s running, and after years as a film critic, compiling ideas in darkened movie theaters, I can do so without glancing at the page. He compares his career as an actor to his former one, as a builder: “No one ever came and brought you some shit for the sake of it.” He imitates Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park after an accidental allusion to the film’s mathematician, Ian Malcolm: “Inevitably, life finds a way to fuck things up.” He riffs on Star Wars, Father John Misty, life off the grid, marijuana, even the drab function hall in the New Orleans suburbs where we sit at a large, round table, as if unpopular cousins at a Southern wedding: “A lot of dreams have died in here.” Joseph Gilgun, the lanky, loquacious Englishman of AMC’s Preacher-in which he plays Cassidy, a lanky, loquacious Irishman, er, vampire-switches subjects so often that his river of words threatens to jump its banks.

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