NW Democrat-Gazette

ROB LOWE NEVER GET SOLD

The Unstable actor talks about the joys of working with his son, being 33 years sober and his transition from hunky romantic lead to funny father.

BY MARA REINSTEIN

Flash forward to March 17, 2024. It’s a Sunday and two days before the start of spring. It’s also the date that Rob Lowe—wait, could this be?!—turns 60.

Now imagine how he feels.

“It’s funny,” he says. “I remember I couldn’t get my head around 40. It was so super-troubling. And I look back on it and think I was a kid. For 50, there was a sense of satisfaction. Like, that’s right mother-effers! But 60 does not feel that way. Like, I think I’m going to get through it on the q.t.” However, he adds quickly, “I don’t think my wife will let me get away with it.”

Nor should she. After all, the actor has achieved a life well worth celebrating many times over. How about some white-hot buzz, a chiseled cover-boy visage, movie stardom and pop-culture notoriety? That was Lowe just in his twenties. (Oh, the many hearts he melted in the 1985 Gen-X classic St. Elmo’s Fire.) In the ‘90s, Lowe emerged from the Brat Pack era as an unlikely comedy player thanks to Wayne’s World, Tommy Boy and the Austin Powers films. And for the past two decades, he’s been a go-to TV star with hits ranging from The West Wing to Parks and Recreation to the current Fox drama 9-1-1: Lone Star.

Along the way, he settled down. Lowe got sober in 1990. He wed makeup artist Sheryl Berkoff in 1991 after meeting on a blind date and reconnecting years later. The couple are parents to Matthew, 29, and John Owen, 27, and raised them in Santa Barbara, California. “I wanted my kids to grow up outside L.A. where there are teachers and doctors and plumbers and architects,” he says. “It’s not just centered on entertainment, which I think gives a good perspective.”

His new Netflix comedy series, Unstable, is certainly the icing on the (birthday) cake. It follows a wildly wealthy, mildly unhinged biotech honcho who convinces his introverted son, Jackson, to go to work for him and help save the company from disaster. Lowe is the eccentric mogul; his son John Owen is the sensible savior. The breezy show (premiering on March 30) was inspired by the pair’s social media relationship, as the younger Lowe often publicly pokes fun at his dad.

“John Owen came to me and said, ‘ There’s something to be done with this because people enjoy it so much,’” says Lowe, who created and co-executive produces the show with his son. “We spent months trying to figure out the concept. We didn’t want to do a reality show. So, we finally came up with this world and these characters. I like that it’s a comedy that makes you forget your troubles. You can just laugh.”

Lowe also has a great sense of humor and insight when it comes to his Hollywood odyssey. On a Friday morning in February, he shared all with Parade.

You and John Owen collaborate on- and off-screen for Unstable. What’s your professional dynamic like?

The father side of me is just so happy and satisfied and I think anyone whose son goes into the family business would understand that. The other side of it is having a partner who sees things almost exactly like I do who I trust implicitly. That’s such a gift and a relief. Whether it’s a joke or an idea, I know that if John Owen has approved it, I’m going to like it. If he doesn’t like it, I’m going to hate it even more than he does.

Your character, Ellis Dragon, is blissfully narcissistic. Is that true to life?

I’m not playing an exaggerated version of myself, but every element of Ellis is an element of me. He’s based on me, and Jackson is based on John Owen. Obviously you want to find your foibles and put them on steroids. And hopefully that’s what makes the show funny.

You really do have an amusing self-awareness, even in commercials. When did you decide to embrace the Rob Lowe of it all?

I don’t know if I would put it that way. I was lucky to know Cary Grant and spend quality time with Paul Newman. I’m a longtime friend of Arnold Schwarzenegger and friendly with Tom Hanks. They all have one thing in common, and that’s that they wear it well. You’re f—king Tom Hanks, so enjoy being Tom Hanks! All these guys get the joke. And I don’t think anybody would describe those people as pretentious. So, I’m emulating the people I admire.

But you were also saddled with the Brat Pack label in the 1980s. Many of your peers never got past it.

That’s for sure.

How and why did you?

You know, I’ve been sober for almost 33 years. To do that and succeed at it, you have to do a lot of personal assessment. It gives you a perspective. For someone who can’t get over the fact that they were in the Brat Pack, it’s like, I want to go, “Bro, it’s not like you were a POW in Hanoi.” How cool is it that we’re even still talking about it?! But it’s easy for me to say because I’ve had literally multiple careers post-Brat Pack. If it’s the only thing I was known for, maybe I’d feel differently. But I’m not sure. Growing up in Ohio, did you think you’d have a Hollywood career? It was an absolute certainty. I was blessed with ignorance, and I knew I wanted to be an actor from the time I was eight years old. I was a freak among my friends. When I was 11, I took a portable Panasonic tape recorder and snuck it into the movie theater so I could record One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and study Jack Nicholson’s performance. It never occurred to me that Dayton, Ohio, wasn’t this hotbed for producing famous actors.

After your family uprooted to Malibu in the 1970s, you befriended a young Charlie Sheen and Sean Penn. Were you all insanely competitive trying to land roles?

Well, none of those guys had any interest in being actors. Charlie wanted to be a baseball player. I was the one pounding the pavement, and I wasn’t a second-generation actor. Then they all decided to do it. I’d say it was a beautiful mix of camaraderie and competitiveness. I see that with my son with the younger generation of actors. In the beginning before you’re on your own trajectory, it’s anybody’s ball game. I miss those days.

What’s your opinion on the recent “nepo baby” controversy? Do kids of famous actors and actresses have an unfair advantage?

I find it to be fake news. People have been going into the family business for as long as I can remember. Should we not enjoy the work of Jeff Bridges because he’s Lloyd Bridges’ son? What about Michael Douglas? I truly don’t understand it.

OK, but don’t you deserve a little more kudos because you succeeded on your own?

I mean, sure. I like that I didn’t even know what an agent was. But LeBron James’ son isn’t going anywhere unless he can put the ball in the hoop. I didn’t have doors open for me, and some of my peers did and certainly John Owen did. But at the end of the day, if you can’t deliver, it’s over.

Did you enjoy the height of your fame?

I’m really glad I was famous during that time because I’d take no joy in it today. There was more freedom. But with the work that goes into being sober, I’ve come to terms with how uncomfortable it was and how I was unable to process it and how it affected me. Underneath all that fun and adulation and being the “It Guy” for a while, something about it made me super-uncomfortable and I could never put my finger on it. That’s why I always have a lot of empathy for the new guy in town.

You were still an It Guy when you infamously sang with Snow White at the 1989 Oscars. How do you feel about that night in 2023?

I’m proud to be on the list of Oscar embarrassments. It will be really interesting to see if I’m still in the conversation this year—by the way, I am every year—when people can’t figure out how to properly read an envelope with Best Picture on it or when people are beating the sh-- out of each other in front of billions of people. If they’re still talking about my songs, we have big problems with the culture. But I love it. I have no regrets.

Really? Or do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Maybe it’s because I’m fortunate enough to be in such a place of gratitude right now in my life, but I think all the good and bad things we do lead us to where we are today. I turned down Grey’s Anatomy [in 2004] to do a show called Dr. Vegas. I laugh about it now, but Grey’s is still on television! So I wouldn’t have been able to do Parks and Recreation and Lone Star. Though would I have liked the money? Hell, yes!

But doesn’t it hurt when a TV show fails to get out of the gate?

It can. I did a show called The Grinder [on Fox in 2015] that was the best comedy I’ve been in, period. And I was in Austin Powers! But for whatever reason, The Grinder didn’t catch on with anyone except for smarty-pants comedy-industry people. It made me realize that I’m never going to do a network comedy again. I couldn’t have done it any better. That’s why I’m doing Unstable on Netflix.

Honestly, do you think your looks have held you back in some way?

Listen. When I was younger, I was told I couldn’t play a policeman. Why not? Because “Policemen don’t look like you.” And on and on. But it’s like that with everybody. If producers and directors are unimaginative, everyone is limited. Oh, you’re bald so you can’t play a romantic lead. For me, it was, “You’re too pretty.”

Is that why you initially transitioned to television? Your roles have stretched beyond the hunky romantic lead.

I give a lot of that credit to [creator and writer] Aaron Sorkin and The West Wing. The Sam Seaborn character was written as a wonderful, sweet, big-hearted, puppy dog intellectual nerd. But he and the producers were like, “He’s the best guy to do it.” They didn’t care what I looked like.

Is that the best work you’ve ever done?

I loved The West Wing and Parks and Recreation. I’m partial to the character actor department, whether it’s Behind the Candelabra [in 2013] or Eddie Nero on Californication [2007-14]. I love the diversity, and, frankly, those roles are not something I would have guessed I’d be doing back in my “ingenue days.”

At this point, what motivates you to keep plugging away at your job?

I think it’s my Midwestern values. My dad is 80plus years old and still practicing law. My grandpa worked his whole life. And as actors age, they’re able to play different

kinds of roles. I had a wonderful dinner with Michael Caine a few years ago and I told him how much I envy what he’s doing in his career. Like, how do you do it? He said, “Just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll end up being ‘ That Guy.’” He can play things he couldn’t when he was Alfie. Bruce Springsteen once said, “When I started out it was all sunrises and hellos; now it’s sunsets and goodbyes.” There’s value in that. That’s why I stay.

How do you attribute the fact that John Owen is in your business and Matthew works in finance?

Well, I tried to keep both out of the circus and I was only half-successful. Matthew is loving his life in finance and puts together tons of interesting deals and travels the world. I live vicariously. It’s great to have yin and yangs as sons. As long as they’re following their passions, that’s all I care about.

What do you and Sheryl like to do together? Binge-watch TV on the couch?

I’m sort of serious when I say that’s a big bone of contention. She loves to consume entertainment. I’m in a phase where there’s no story turn or plot that I haven’t already seen or played myself. It must be executed in a way that’s fresh. I am watching The Last of Us on HBO. It’s done in surprising, deft, smart and unexpected ways. I love Yellowstone, too.

Did you watch your old Outsiders pal Tom Cruise in Top Gun: Maverick?

Oh, yeah! That guy still knows how to make movies. I couldn’t be a bigger fan. We love each other and had a great phone call recently. All those guys from that era, whenever we see each other, we just giggle and hug and are so happy. It’s like running into a college roommate.

Well, you’re all survivors in a lot of ways.

I know I am. And that’s the thing I take the most satisfaction in—I don’t get to be here without people being on that journey with me. I see them every day on the streets and on my travels. There are 14-year-olds who have just discovered The Outsiders in school and 80-year-olds who remember seeing it in theaters in 1983. It all still blows my mind, and I still can’t believe it all happened.

Personality

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2023-03-26T07:00:00.0000000Z

2023-03-26T07:00:00.0000000Z

https://edition.nwaonline.com/article/285220197181843

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