IN CONVERSATION WITH CORBIN BERNSEN

interview by JANA LETONJA
photography by ANDREA FREMIOTTI

Corbin Bernsen is a veteran actor whose decades-spanning career continues to evolve with remarkable energy and range. Currently appearing in Your Friends & Neighbors, as well as in The Rise and Fall of Reggie Dinkins and the upcoming season of The Lincoln Lawyer, Corbin remains a dynamic presence across television and film. Rising to fame with his Emmy and Golden Globe-nominated role in L.A. Law and beloved for his work in Psych and the Major League films, he is now entering an exciting “third act,” including his SXSW Audience Award-winning project Woodstockers, which he wrote, produced, and starred in.

You’ve described this period as your “third act.” What does that mean to you creatively?

I look at most things in life as having definitions related to time. Seasons and Acts, to name a few. It helps me give order to the chaos and increase potential given the order. I earned a Master’s degree in playwriting at UCLA in 1979 and became very tuned into what each “Act” demands and represents to the overall play. Act 3 was always the most fascinating, though difficult to achieve, because personally, life never felt right or satisfying, tying up loose ends. The question of death, that unknown, always hangs in the air, no matter the resolve or reckonings made. But it is an act that must be created to achieve some finality. For me personally, I refer to Act 3 as “The Reckoning,” a time where all the pieces of one’s life add up, whether they want them to or not. You’ve made your bed, now you sleep in it. No choice in that. How you’ve dealt with health, wealth and love, to name the big three, will find their resolve here. Like it or not. For better or worse. Action and reaction.  

Creatively, that brings two opportunities. The exciting challenge is to bring a satisfying resolutionto written material that’s relatable to a broad audience, regardless of age, status or personal history. Things seem to make sense in a natural order. Second, and much more personal, Act 3 is an enormous and exciting opportunity to self-examine the pieces of my own life, explore, and do the math, the reckoning of the books. I always appreciated Act 3 as discovered in those early days writing plays.

I never felt compelled to explore those early moments of firsts, love, angst, fitting in. I am, however, now inspired to explore the resolves of my own life through imagined characters such as Lenny Baker in Woodstockers. I’ve given him a rocky road, rockier than mine, and plenty of present reason to find resolve as the clock ticks down.

What drew you to Your Friends & Neighbors and the role of Jack Bailey?

I like to think that Your Friends & Neighbors found me, a vessel waiting and willing to explore a man, Jack Baily, whose entire life has been ordered, to a fault, whose mistakes have never been considered. And now, the price of that ignorance and arrogance begins to take its toll. What strikes me as most curious, however, is why or how this role arrived at this exact moment in my career and life. All things exactly as they’re meant to be.

What can you tell us about your character in the 5th season of The Lincoln Lawyer?

Another project that has found its way to me, or me to it, you never know the order, is in The Lincoln Lawyer. While I love the show, I don’t know much about the character as we’re in the early stages. I’ve stepped into it for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is Michael Connelly, an old friend. I’ve read every one of his books, starting from the very beginning. I’ve been on his journey for thirty years now. So, when the opportunity to step into one of his fictional worlds arrived with the character Richard Finch, I jumped at it with what appears to be yet another opportunity to explore a man reconciling his past and secrets he’s been hiding. What’s to come of it, we’ll find out together.

Looking back, how did L.A. Law shape your career and legacy?

I’ve always thought that, should I ever win an award for acting in any of the ever-growing number of award ceremonies, not something that historically happens to me, going back to High School football, where my greatest achievement was an afterthought plaque for “Trying 110 percent,” I would always begin by acknowledging Steven Bochco, who created L.A. Law. He gave me my career as I know it. He opened the door and handed me the golden ticket. L.A. Law shaped my career in more ways than I give credit to today. Very distinctly, it made me realise that this isn’t just some fanciful dream, to become a famous actor, but rather appreciate the work and recognise what it means to be a working actor. This is a job, and people’s livelihoods depend on me doing my job as expertly as they do theirs. And yes, while we actors often get exciting fringe benefits, not to mention a decent wage for our work, I’m still just part of a larger family where we all depend on one another to keep the ship afloat and headed in the right direction.   

It’s safe to assume that L.A. Law will always be remembered by me, and those who’ve followed my career, as the launching point. A place to look back and see where I began this journey of exploring humanity through fictional characters. And Arnie Becker was certainly an extraordinary voice to set forth, a man with so much success at an early age and yet minimal tools to navigate his way through beyond his own ego. I’ve often felt this would be the most challenging and satisfying character to revisit today, where the reckoning of his life would certainly be a painful day in paradise.

How has the industry changed since your early days in television?

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been at this career for 5 decades now, with my earliest professional roles in television staples Police Story and Police Woman, roles I read for and earned when I was 19. In that time, while the industry, technologies around it, and the television landscape specifically have changed dramatically, the principles of strong storytelling haven’t weakened or changed all that much. Yes, it means something to be up on social media. Yes, actors can now do commercials, and in the end, this is still just a job. A wonderful job to be sure, but a job. A vocation where you win and lose sometimes by luck or lack thereof, where you rise and fall on your own sword, where you get back what you put in. What has changed is the opportunity. I hear many people say, “There just aren’t the amount of opportunities as there used to be.” Are you kidding? When I started out, there was film and if you didn’t make it there, 3 television networks and only so many hours in the day for television programming. Now, there are endless possibilities in both film and television, 4 networks and the ever-growing number of streamers. And with the more recent inclusion of super indie projects and places for them across all platforms, the opportunities, at least to me, seem endless. It’s only one’s lack of imagination and energy, or both, that hold you back. That said, one thing has certainly changed that can make this new plethora of opportunities seem small. Today, everyone who puts up a video of themself with their favourite pet, and gets hits, thinks they can join the ranks of what we call “actors.” And to be honest, if they get the numbers, someone will surely give them their bigger shot at stardom.  

My mother, the insanely talented and underrated, at least to me, Jeanne Cooper of The Young and Restless fame, once told me that I can do whatever I want with my life, but to call myself an actor, I must train.If I wanted her respect, then don’t join the ranks for money, girls or fame, but rather for a love of art form. I didn’t quite know it immediately, but soon learned that this wasn’t some you can’t be in my club unless you earn it club, but rather a basic foundation that paves the way for an actor and the guaranteed ups and downs of that career. It is through training that you learn to love the craft, and that love is what gets you over the hurdles and out from the deep valleys of an acting career. Today, more often than not, those overnight internet stars with big followingscan’t sustain the ride. They aren’t in it for the love of the craft. Enough said.  

So, while the landscape of the business has gone through enormous changes, the winners and losers, both in front of and behind the camera or curtain, still seem to come cut from the same cloth as before.

What inspired you to create Woodstockers?

Seven years ago, my wife and I moved to the Hudson Valley in Upstate NY. We’d raised our four sons, and now it was time for the next adventure. The area was immediately appealing to me, not only for its natural beauty and proximity to NYC and all the culture one could want, not to mention a fast-growing film and television industry, but it also put me within proximity to Woodstock. Woodstock was the cultural touchstone of my youth. Both the sound, the look and purpose were my first leanings into a more purposeful life. A more lived life. A more imagined life. So, naturally, to be living near ground zero where the Woodstock Festival took place was a no-brainer. When I arrived, however, I almost immediately noted how many people, about my age, seemed to have been the types who went to Woodstock and never left. That notion alone was the starting point for Woodstockers. My first drafts were basically old people stoner comedy. But something quickly shifted. I had the great opportunity to speak with Michael Lang who was one of the original organizers of the festival, and while he “enjoyed” what I had written, in no uncertain terms he made it abundantly clear there was much more to mine here, not the least of which is that the Woodstock generation and their recipe for a more perfect and richer life though peace, love and music failed. In fact, it played out through the 70s, but by the 80s it had become an all-but-forgotten ideal. “Money baby, lots of money, have it all” became the new order.  Interestingly, as a side note, L.A. Law symbolised just that.

At the same time, as I was moving into Act 3 of my life, I realised exploring this failed Woodstock experiment was not the only path to follow for Woodstockers, but my own reckoning, the reckoning of one’s life with a clock ticking quickly toward the end, offered an even more powerful potential and personal consideration to the larger story. So, it was with that, “the failed generation,” in conjunction with the reconciliation of one’s life, especially a Woodstocker’s life and dreams, that Woodstockers found its purpose.

Why do you think Woodstockers resonates with audiences today?

On first blush, you might think that Woodstockers is perfect only for an older generation that might relate to it, whether you’re a pot-smoking Woodstocker or not. It deals with Act 3 of our lives. And of course, there is a growing older audience that is still somewhat underserved, who actually stays home and watches entertainment on a 70-inch screen with surround sound in the comfort of their own home. But something else has happened that gives more hope and opportunity for Woodstockers to succeed. We are in strange times, to say the least. Chaos is all around us, across the world. It seems to be infecting all segments of life, all cultures, and all ages. While peace, love and music couldn’t save the day 50 years ago, there seems to be, inherently in those three words, a prescription for living that might have just finally found its time. Younger audiences, I’m sure in part because of our director, my son Oliver and his keen and creative eye, have found a way into the story and some comfort in that. Some comfort in peace, love and music as a way forward. The Woodstock sound, while never disappearing, has made a resurgence, not because older Woodstockers like myself are keeping it alive, but because newer, younger audiences are finding it, embellishing it, and even revering it.  Shorter answer, Woodstockers is about a better time, not so long ago, and therefore possible to resurrect today.

What challenges did you face wearing multiple hats as writer, producer, and actor?

I enjoy the process of wearing many hats on a project, especially writer, director and actor. I find myself able to disassociate myself from each while in the process of each. The intention of each becomes fuller, richer and more informed as long as I don’t do the tasks of each at the same time.  All that said, with Woodstockers, I had a few “come to Jesus moments” with my son Oliver, who had agreed to direct the pilot with the caveat that he’s the director, the set is his, and the vision moving forward started with him. In short, I had to abandon the writer’s hat and the director’s hat and just be the actor. I fought it at first, but then found great freedom in knowing that I had put my very personal pet project in the right hands. I also learned something that I instinctively knew but never fully appreciated. Making a film or television show, or piece of theatre is a collective effort. You hire the right people for the right job and let their voices be heard. And while I believe I could have, and I have done a decent job in the past wearing all the hats, something new, unique and yet more universal comes from the collaborative effort. More voices in the room tend to create a greater resonating singular voice for your story.  

How do you see the future of indie television evolving?

Of all the things I’ve done in my professional life, there is nothing more exciting than the potential of indie television and the ability to tell incredible stories, of all lengths and seasons, across countless platforms that didn’t exist even a year ago. In fairness, I wonder is this just me “not reaching a perceived higher level” in my career, or part of my Act 3 and the extraordinary opportunity to be a part of creating something new not only in the way we tell stories, how we tell stories, but also where we share our stories.  I used to study Native American drawings on cave walls and realise this is just an early form of storytelling, and how storytelling has changed over the thousands of years of man’s recorded history. 

And here we are changing the paradigm again, and I can find personal purpose there, not only in the stories we tell, but how we tell them. I don’t recall the words indie television or indie TV existing that long ago. Indie films have certainly been around for years, and I often found some of my favourite stories were told there, with new directors, writers and actors finding their voice and cutting their chops. There is an excitement and freedom that translates to the screen in the indie world. I can’t help but think that being “indie” usually relates, in some way, to less money and equipment to get the job done. Financing is independent and therefore smaller than “studio fare.” It is within those restraints where “necessity is the mother of invention” that magic happens. Magic that is a purer reflection of true life, true humanity, because there are no safety nets, extra dollars and guarantees you’ll succeed, like in life. It often takes more precision and calculation to make the most out of what you have in order to succeed. All of that adds up to at minimum, a shot at unique storytelling. Now, that opportunity comes to television, where typically the network machine steps in all too often, protecting their investment, and more often than not, eroding the opportunity for singular and unique visions. I believe the opportunity for indie TV is now without limits, and at the same time, working with partners like YouTube to have a home, win, lose, or draw. Big swings mean big risks, but now and looking forward is a better time than ever to take those swings, multiple swings, without fear of failure lurking in the background.

How do you stay creatively inspired and open to new opportunities?

I’m often told by my wife and family to “stop staring” at people when we’re out. But I can’t help it, and I mean no harm. I have always been and remain fascinated by the human condition and this extraordinary gift of existence. To witness the beauty and complicated organisation that we call life. I’m fascinated by our strange desire to destroy it, overlook it, and bend it to our will. I’m fascinated by the feelings of love and hate equally and how closely they ride the same rail. I don’t have to do anything to keep myself in a state of wonder. It is, for reasons or origins unknown, something I’ve been blessed with, or cursed, depending on your point of view, my entire life. If sometimes even to a fault, overanalysing, trying to make sense where sense can’t be made, to the point of madness in the endeavour. I take nothing for granted. And the older I get, my wonder only becomes stronger. Perhaps it’s the closing in of my mortality, the assured fact that my clock is ticking down and there’s still so much to discover, that my energy to keep pursuing truth, turning over rocks, and looking over the hill to the next valley remains stronger than ever. I’ve lived a full life and can account for that, but what’s not been discovered is still much larger than what has been discovered, and every time I think “I’ve found it,” or “I’ve got it,” another door opens. And that’s the key. One door always leads to the next, and what’s behind it continues to hold my fascination. Unlike my early days, however, the movement forward is now informed by knowledge, which makes it even more exciting.

What projects or stories are you most excited to explore next?

While there are countless stories to still tell, I’ll most likely dig further into my own experiences to find sources for new stories. The older I get, the more reassured I become that what I’m experiencing isn’t unique. Even having our differences is part of the shared life experience. From the corporate monster to self-driving cars, the world we share is a world of our own combined imaginations and making. We are family and enemy in the same breath. I suppose I’m still that 60s hippie guy fighting the man, but I also now understand that I am the man.