Jeff Goldblum: ‘The universe is a wondrous, mysterious place – appreciate it’

Jeff Goldblum was born in West Homestead, Pennsylvania in 1952. He moved to New York City at 17 to study acting and made his Broadway debut two years later, in Two Gentlemen of Verona. Following his first film appearance in Death Wish (1974), Goldblum has become one of the most recognisable faces on the big screen, appearing in Nashville (1975), Annie Hall (1977), Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (1983), The Fly (1986), Jurassic Park (1993), Independence Day (1996), The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) and Wicked (2024), among many others.

Goldblum has played the piano for more than 30 years and in recent years he has released four albums backed by the Mildred Snitzer Orchestra. His debut, The Capitol Studios Sessions, reached number one in the US jazz album chart.

Speaking to Big Issue for his Letter to My Younger Self, Jeff Goldblum looks back on an extraordinary life.

Wait a minute, what do you mean? I’ve never done an interview with a title. This interview is called Letter to My – I’m writing it down – to My Younger Self. Hey, I’m already stimulated.

At 16 I was already a complicated and sensitive fellow. This is the late ’60s. It was a wild adventure. There was something transcendental, transformational, transmogrifying in the air. What would I say to that fella? I’d say, kid, don’t miss a thing. It’s all going as it should, as it has to. The universe is a wondrous, mysterious place and you’re a part of it. Appreciate it. Be grateful. Be present, as we like to say nowadays. Don’t miss a second of the pain, the confusion, the ecstasy and the people in your lives. 

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By the age of 10, so for six years, I had this burning idea to have a career in acting. The high school I went to was not academically demanding. I made all As – I don’t mean to brag – throughout high school. I wasn’t so attracted to math but now because of the parts I’ve played, I’m interested in science. I esteem and admire that field of endeavour. I took part in a summer camp, between fifth and sixth grades and was cast in the lead of this little play we put on. I got some laughs. It was fun. I sang a little bit. It was a kind of Gilbert and Sullivan take-off. My parents were there and at the end they said, “Well, did you like that?” And I said, “Yeah, I did,” and that’s all. I kept the rest, the depth of it, to myself. Because I felt immediately that it was deep and important.  

Music did something to me and to my innards, which it still does. It’s grown into a garden of creative nourishment and connection to other people and to myself, an important part of myself. There were four of us kids, and my mom gave us all lessons. My older brother had the clarinet for a bit and was tooting around and me and my sister took piano. I wasn’t disciplined at first. I didn’t practise, then I got a jazz arrangement and by 16 they’d already sent me to Frank Cunimondo, who was a professional jazz pianist in Pittsburgh. They’d drive me to his house, I learned how to read chords and improvise a little. I started to get the telephone book and call cocktail lounges, “Hey, I hear you need a pianist,” and I got a couple of jobs. 

I’ve never been interested in money. Although I was struck early on that I had to make my own way. My dad said, “If you find something you love to do, that’s your compass, a pointer towards a vocational choice.” Very wise. But around the same time I went, ‘Oh, finding something you love to do, it’s also got to be remunerative, you’ve got to take care of yourself.’

I did not have a backup plan. And it’s not as if my parents urged me to have one. They were latent creatives, they both toyed with a theatrical interest early on. I think what happened was transferred interest in my passion. And so they didn’t say, “Yeah, really, an actor?” They supported the idea. I’ll never forget the day, I was 15 or 16, my dad said to my mom, “Well, look at this, the kid is stimulated.” He said it with some gravitas, I kind of gathered what he meant and that’s still my guiding star. Even talking to you, I know it more clearly now. I see the seeds and how they’ve developed. I want to stay stimulated. I do it for the stimulation. 

I moved to New York when I was still 17. I got into this school with Sanford Meisner and followed all the assignments and excitement and terror of that. I realised why this was a worthwhile thing to devote my energies to and my life to. It was life-enhancing, and brought all the intimacy and connection that I yearned for, without even knowing it.  

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Unlike most everybody I knew, I got opportunities. Between the first and second year, I lucked into this fluke of a chance to be in this show at the Delacorte Theater. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Shakespeare in the Park, a musical written by Galt MacDermot, who had done Hair and John Guare, fantastic playwright, adapting Shakespeare’s text. Raúl Juliá was starring. I entered halfway into rehearsals and it became a super hit that summer, then went to Broadway for a year. I was in the chorus doing eight shows a week and understudied one of the bigger parts. After that I went back and finished the second year at the Neighborhood Playhouse and then thought, well, now I really need to audition, I guess. The first one I went for was El Grande de Coca-Cola, this show that originated in England, and I got it. Robert Altman saw me in that and put me in Nashville and California Split. An agent sent me up for Death Wish in 1973, Michael Winner directed. The first movie audition I’d ever had – I got it. And etc, etc, etc, one thing has led to another and I have not stopped working since.

So I wouldn’t give myself any career advice, that’s not my field anyway. I still go with my stomach, my gizzard, about everything. I feel like I’m still getting opportunities to grow. I feel at the height of my powers musically and theatrically.  

If I was talking to my younger self about the opposite sex, well, well, well, well. I had this onset of what happens to everybody, a fierce interest in what this was all about. But I was not precocious. As a matter of fact, I’m a late bloomer – in a lot of areas – and so in that area too. I was just a chick pecking out of his shell. I sure had deep feelings. I had a big crush on this girl from fifth to 10th grade. I’d go to bed at night and talk to my pillow and say, I love you, I love you. 

I would say to my younger self, feel everything you’re feeling inside, all the ache of it and all the promise and excitement of it. Women and people are infinitely fascinating. So get interested. Get really curious. Follow your curiosity and your proclivities. That’s going to be an interesting and creative avenue. I had a very romantic side early on that has stayed with me. There have been many opportunities with wonderful women, wonderful relationships. I’ve been with Emily now, this summer will be 14 years married, and she’s just fantastic.  

Kids have changed my life. We have two boys, almost eight and 10 this year. They are taking piano lessons and it’s fallen to me often to do their practice, like I did this morning. Sometimes maddening and frustrating but, like today, it can be very exciting. I’m trying to do the best I can. Well, we might only know 50 years from now, when they go, ‘I wish he’d pushed me harder.’ I taught acting for a couple of decades and I like that. I like trying to awaken what’s possible in others. It’s a healthy thing to do, and it brings out something good in me.   

Now, 16-year-old me, what work of mine would I want them to see? I’d show him a little reel, a selection of the movies that are artful and interesting like Nashville, the Wes Anderson movies are interesting to look at. I have the chance to show my two boys one thing or another. I don’t know how impressed they were with anything. I showed them Jurassic Park. We took them to the movie theatre for Wicked. They were on set when I was making it, met [Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande] who were wonderful to them, along with [director] Jon M Chu. They saw Thor Ragnarök, I think they got a kick out of the Grand Master in that. They happened to see an episode or two of Kaos where I play Zeus. There is some complicated, disturbing material in there but they liked it. They pride themselves on being able to take any kind of dark or violent or scary thing. But, you know, we’ll see. I haven’t shown them The Fly yet.

None of us know exactly when that last conversation with our grandfathers or our fathers or our friends or our wives will be, and so we should always treat every conversation as if it might be the last. My brother was 23 when he died. I was 19. I mean, what to say? You just say how much you cared for them and how much you loved them and how much you appreciated them, how grateful you were for the time you spent with them. Nothing occurs to me now about the nuts and bolts for any specific person where you go, “Hey, by the way, where’d you leave that extra key? And can I have that sweater?” What do we all need to hear from ourselves or from others apart from: ‘You did the best you could, and I loved it. Bravo.’  

Everything was perfect just as it happened. You know, I could have written it differently but who knows what threads would have reached a dead end. Even if you could order exactly what you want, I don’t recommend that for my younger self or anybody. Take the cards you’re given and do what you can do in your circle of control and influence. 

If I could relive a day, it wouldn’t be the day you get nominated for an Oscar necessarily, but those days my kids were born, the day you get married… In music, we played Glastonbury. That was a dream come true. We played Royal Festival Hall, which was the scene of the iconic Sinatra recording. I could go back and enjoy that again. We played Royal Albert Hall for the beloved Queen on Remembrance Day, spectacular. And the Baftas this year, maybe you saw me play As Time Goes By, apropos of what we’re talking about in these questions, for people who are not with us any more, that was very special. So I might go back and visit myself when I was four and got my first cowboy outfit or my first easel paints, but recently things are better than ever. If I wanted to relive days of my life, a lot of them would be recent.

If I didn’t experience any more than this, it would be enough. But it’s also true that I have a big appetite for more of one thing or another, including to see a world that works for everyone. Like I alluded to in another utterance, some of these endeavours are enlivened by the idea that I may be of use, of service, that I can contribute to the world.

I believe the best is yet to come. It’s one of the reasons we put [the song] on the record. Nobody has a crystal ball, nobody knows what’s going to happen but having that as part of your appetite is good enough. So yes, I do feel the best is yet to come, especially when Scarlett Johansson sings it to a bossa nova beat played by our band. I’m hopeful, I’m full of jazz and bushy-tailed optimism.

Jeff Goldblum & The Mildred Snitzer Orchestra’s new albumStill Blooming, with Ariana Grande, Cynthia Erivo, Maiya Sykes and Scarlett Johansson, is out 25 April. They play the London Palladium on 24 April. 

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