This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
For John Rhys-Davies, acting has never been just a job. Well, almost never.
"When one is in a calm, collected state, you say, 'Look, it's just a job,' in that sort of faux modesty that we artistes have," he said with a smile. "In truth, it's an unending, addictive, exhilaration that just feeds you.
"No, it's not just any job. It's the most privileged bloody job on the planet."
One of Rhys-Davies' most recent credits is the starring role in the drama "Winter's Thaw," a production based on the Leo Tolstoy short story "Martin the Cobbler," which premieres Thanksgiving night on BYUtv. But his list of movie and TV credits runs well past 200 and dates back more than half a century. And he's definitely not slowing down.
"I'm an old fart of 72," Rhys-Davies joked, "and I get the joy of waking up with the dawn and going to work with a sense of glee, thinking, 'Yippee! I going to work today!' "
As much as he loves his job — which has included starring roles in "Raiders of the Lost Ark," "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade," "The Lord of the Rings," "Shogun," "Victor/Victoria" and "The Living Daylights" — he doesn't encourage others to follow in his footsteps. On the contrary, he encourages young people to go into science and discourages them from acting.
"I get asked the question, probably a thousand times a year — 'Have you got any advice for an aspiring actor?' " he said in an interview with The Tribune. "I've been such a sourpuss. I generally put it like this: 'We need more actors, actresses like we need seven simultaneous outbreaks of ebola.'
"There isn't the work for them, and the competition is monstrous. And there's more of an element of luck involved than there should be in any career."
Given that we live in "probably the most democratic era for filmmaking that there has ever been," Rhys-Davies advises actor-wannabes to get together, write their own script, film it themselves and "push it out there" however they can — whether at short film festivals or online. "Practice your craft by doing it," he said.
"I was lucky because I was brought up on the stage. There was still repertory theater in England when I was beginning. I mean, I had seven weeks out of work in my first five years."
And that was because he hated Christmas pantomimes and refused to do them.
"I used to think it was my genius, and then slowly it dawned on me that if you're tall, fat and ugly and you've got a loud voice, you're in a seller's market," he joked.
What he struggles to make young acting hopefuls understand is that "the absence of a career structure means there is never any security." And despite having hundreds of credits in a career that stretches back more than half a century, he is convinced that "one day, the phone will have stopped ringing."
"And the only way that I have found to cope with that is to assume that the job that I'm doing now is the last job, so I'm going to do it as well as I can, with as much grace as I can. So go out behaving properly. Nurturing my fellow actors," Rhys-Davies said. "So if it is the end, hey, I did my best. It's a good habit to get into."
Of course, he admitted he has been thinking that way for 20 years. And he's quick to say he's not planning to retire any time soon. Or ever.
"It's the most fun you can have with your clothes on, this job, isn't it?" he said.
When he'd finished filming "Winter's Thaw" in Lithuania, Rhys-Davies — who'd been working steadily on several projects — "got a call from the wife saying, 'You do realize that you have spent three weeks with me and your daughter in the last 10 months.' "
So he traveled to his home in New Zealand to spend time with his wife, Lisa, and their 10-year-old daughter.
"And there I am within 24 hours, arriving jet-lagged. She has me cutting bamboo on the steep bank by our home," he said. "I'm tired and my arthritis is killing me and my back aches. And she comes out with a cup of tea and I crawl painfully up the bank, and gratefully sort of put my hands on the deck and take this cup of tea.
"And she says, all brightly, 'Oh, isn't this lovely. Just think. If you were to retire, we could be like this all the time.'
"I looked at the uncut grove of bamboo, and — note to oneself — never retire."
Twitter: @ScottDPierce