On what happens when a Tenacious D superfan gets his first leading role opposite Jack Black in a comedy based on Mike White’s life.
Being part of a famous family is nothing new to Colin Hanks, and, of course, that’s because he was a member of the Brumder clan in Orange County. Based on the experiences of screenwriter Mike White (The White Lotus), the 2002 coming-of-age comedy from director Jake Kasdan (Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle) starred Hanks in his first lead film role as high-school senior Shaun Brumder. After his best friend is killed in a surfing accident, Shaun begins rethinking his life in the O.C., and the discovery of a novel by Stanford professor Marcus Skinner (Kevin Kline) convinces him that he needs to attend that very university and become a writer. This news is poorly received by his family, which consists of his alcoholic mother Cindy (Catherine O’Hara), his absentee father Bud (John Lithgow), and his stoner brother Lance (Jack Black). But when a transcript mix-up puts his future in jeopardy, Shaun and the rest of the Brumders band together to do whatever it takes to make his dream come true, whether that means accidentally giving ecstasy to the head of admissions (Harold Ramis) or burning down a building on the Stanford campus.
Orange County was a breakout moment for Hanks and White, though it’s also remembered for assembling a cast that Roger Ebert described as a “roll call from the comedy hall of fame.” Among the high-profile names to appear are Hanks, O’Hara, Lithgow, Black, Kline, Ramis, Chevy Chase, Leslie Mann, Jane Adams, Garry Marshall, Lily Tomlin, and Ben Stiller. “I really still can’t believe that happened,” Hanks says of the talented ensemble. “You see it a lot more now, but that was very unheard of at that time, to try and find the best possible person, even though they’re only going to be working for a day. It’s a great example of ‘It doesn’t hurt to ask.’”
More than 20 years later, Hanks has carved out a busy career that has included memorable turns on Fargo and Dexter, as well as reunions with Black in King Kong and Jumanji. Now, the Emmy-nominated actor talks to a real writer about playing a fictional writer, spending his own college years in Orange County, and being ready for White Lotus season three.
I’m always extra appreciative when people agree to talk about a 20-year-old movie because you’re no longer obligated to promote it.
You want to know what the secret is? We’re all thrilled to be talking about anything from 20 years ago, because that means it actually left some sort of imprint.
I have to start with my most urgent question: What’s it like to be kissed on the mouth by the late, great Harold Ramis?
Oh, it was magical; I’m glad I got to experience it. There’s so many incredible memories that I have of making that movie, and all the incredible people that came and played with us for a day, and that one’s definitely high up on the list.
When reflecting back on Orange County, what is the first thing that you think about?
More than anything else, what really strikes me is it was my first experience of working every single day. Up until that point, I had been the guy that would come in every now and again on a show and reiterate things to the audience to just get the exposition across. And Orange County, I remember that I was so excited to be showing up to work every day, because I was working, which is big, but I couldn’t believe how fortunate we were to be making it. I’m pretty sure I just had a gigantic smile on my face the entire time.
What do you recall about Orange County coming into your life, and your first impression of the script and character?
I just remember that Jake Kasdan was going to be doing a movie that was essentially based on Mike White’s life; that was the way that it was described. I was doing the second season of Roswell, and Mike and Jake were just coming out of the short-lived Freaks and Geeks. It was criminal that they were no longer doing that. And there were all sorts of questions as to whether I was even going to be able to do it or not, because I would have to get out of my contract for Roswell. I was just really hoping that the show-business gods would shine down and let me do it. And so by the time that was given the green light, I was just like, “Great, let’s go!” I was also a huge Tenacious D fan, so the fact that they were saying that Jack was going to be in it, I was pinching myself.
You had already spent some time in Orange County during your college years. Was that a helpful head start?
My first year was spent at Chapman University, down in Orange County, and so I was already familiar with that vibe and aesthetic. Looking back now, it’s definitely of an era, that late-’90s, early-2000s, kind of surf, skate culture. I understood the constrictions of that and someone wanting to get out and break free. And then being raised in Northern California, I also knew what that vibe was like. So, although the circumstances are completely different, something about it felt very accessible to me. And, honestly, I think it’s one of the reasons why the movie still sticks with people. It’s not a movie about getting invited to a party, or trying to get the girl, or any of these benchmarks of high school. It’s really more about wanting to take the next step in your young-adult life, and I remember really latching onto that.
You mentioned the film being somewhat based on Mike’s life. What conversations, if any, did you have with him?
It was sort of just loosely based on him being from Pasadena and wanting to get out and start his own life, so there wasn’t really so much specific crossover. I don’t remember him being around set that much because the script was so damn good. Dialogue-wise, character-wise, plot-wise, there really wasn’t anything that changed. At that stage, Mike was already Mike White; he was an incredibly talented writer. It’s the reason why we were able to get all of those people to come play with us, because, if it wasn’t any good, they wouldn’t have bothered to show up. The one interesting thing is that they were not sure if Jack’s deal was going to close, so there was one day where I rehearsed with Mike playing my older brother, and that was cool because it was a completely different dynamic.
Jack’s deal obviously did eventually come together, which meant that the Brumder family consisted of you, Jack, John Lithgow, and Catherine O’Hara. That’s a hard comedy act to beat. In the moment, were you shocked to realize that this was the core four?
Totally. Looking back on it now, it’s even crazier. We shot everything in the Brumder house first, so we were there for three and a half weeks, and, by the end, we were all going kind of stir-crazy. But I just remember laughing. Especially towards the end when Garry Marshall and Dana Ivey come, and we’re doing all of that really super-heightened, almost Noises Off–level comedy, I’d be going, “Oh, God, this is fun.” Watching Catherine O’Hara, she would add all of these little things that were just so perfect, so funny. There’s one line where originally it was, “I’d like to propose a toast,” but she flipped it, so it says, “I’d like to tropose a prost.” There were tons of those things throughout the course of the day that would just constantly make us laugh and smile, and I think led to the fun heart of the movie.
Jack had been around, but it felt like he was really having a moment in the lead-up to Orange County, and then he just came in throwing 100 miles per hour as Lance.
It was so cool. Like I said, I was already a huge Tenacious D fan, and I had seen them play a bunch of times, I had recorded all the HBO episodes, and I knew all the lyrics to all the songs. And he was just such a nice guy and super funny. The first thing we shot away from the house was the interior Bronco stuff, driving up to Stanford, and Lance is supposed to be on all sorts of energetic pills, and I just remember crying. I was chewing up the inside of my lip because I was just trying to keep it together and not ruin takes. The stuff he was doing was so hilarious, and I really did feel like I was seeing something special.
I always forget that the Jumanji franchise is a big Orange County reunion, between Jake, Jack, and you.
It’s one of those things where, if either one of those guys called me up, I’d be there in a heartbeat.
What is it in the Brumder blood that inspires them to move to Miami and start killing people?
[Laughs.] It was kind of hilarious, just the irony of that. John had already done Dexter a few years before I did my run, so I did think it was great that we were able to have that connection there. During the lockdown I did some video podcast with him, and there was a laugh, like, “Here we are, talking about something very, very different than the last time we spoke.” I love John; he’s such a sweet man.
And still, the film manages to get in and out at a running time of 82 minutes. Directors of today, take note!
I distinctly remember Jake saying, “The movie needs to be like a tight, three-minute pop song. It needs to move fast, and be light and funny.” You kind of know what all the beats are going to be, but it’s all about the way that you play them. I think that shows what a smart storyteller Jake is, to know, “Don’t overstay your welcome; as soon as we see someone, great, okay, we’re on to the next.” It keeps the pace going, so, before you know it, you’ve finished it and go, “Oh, that’s a delightful, enjoyable movie.”
Two years after Orange County, you guest-starred in a season-one episode of The O.C., which speaks to the moment that region was having in the early 2000s. Did you do that just for the meta of it all?
I had to! When I first met [The O.C. creator] Josh Schwartz, we cracked some sort of joke about it, and because they also had that very specific “California” song, and I remember saying, “Let me guess, they wanted that song because they really needed to let everyone know that it wasn’t Orange County, Florida.” And he goes, “Yep!” We had a couple of mutual friends, and so I had heard rumblings of, “Hey, there might be this little one-off funny thing,” and I just jumped at it, like, “Why not? Sure, I’ll do two Orange County things.” I’m still waiting for the third.
Have you ever given any thought to what Shaun might now be up to?
Oh, God, no. I never really thought more about him getting to Stanford. I don’t know, maybe that’s his glory days, and it’s all downhill from there. I had never been to Stanford until my younger brother, Truman, graduated from there. So I remember going for his graduation and sort of looking around, like, “So this is where Shaun wanted to go. Oh, okay, this is nice.” I definitely didn’t have the grades to get in. But I don’t know where Shaun would’ve gone afterwards. I think it’s safe to say being a starving writer was definitely a chapter in his life.
As a writer, it did pain me to rewatch the scene in which Lithgow takes down writers. At least it was a rant written by one of the best there is.
[Laughs.] Exactly. It shows how good Lithgow is that I can still hear him say, “A writer!?” Exclamation point, question mark. Twenty-one years later, it’s still in my head.
Any final words on Orange County?
Honestly, I don’t really know where it lands for other people. It was my one attempt, my best attempt at that teen-movie thing, of which there were so many at the time. I can’t tell if it was a success or a failure, but it was just this really amazing time in my life, and that anyone still even brings it up is both head-scratching and flattering. The fact that I’m now at a stage where people will come and tell me, “My wife and I’s first date was to go see Orange County,” is crazy to me. And one of these days I’ll sit down and watch it again and maybe understand what people are talking about. But I’m just happy that it’s still in the mix, somehow, some way.
I think the easiest way to keep Orange County in the mix is for Mike to cast you in White Lotus season three.
[Laughs.] I am ready and willing — and I can also do craft service.
