At 72, Jeff Goldblum has been an unmistakable presence since the mid-1970s. Photo / Elizabeth Weinberg, The New York Times
In a wide-ranging interview on Popcast, the actor and musician insisted that the immutable Jeff Goldblum persona is “not a performance” - it’s his lifeblood.
At 72, Jeff Goldblum has not lost a step. He may, in fact, be picking up the pace.
An unmistakable screen presence since the mid-1970s, when he stole scenes in Death Wish, Nashville and Annie Hall, Goldblum has recently hammed it up as the Wizard of Oz, in last year’s Wicked (and this year’s sequel), and Zeus himself, in Netflix’s Kaos.
Beyond film and television – where he’s also popped up in recent years on RuPaul’s Drag Race and the millennial-skewering Search Party – Goldblum has become a fixture in the worlds of fashion (attending two consecutive Met Galas), music (having recently released Still Blooming, his fourth jazz album) and the internet variety show circuit (gamely eating hot wings and shopping for sneakers).
To each role, fiction and non-, Goldblum brings a contagious enthusiasm and plenty of Jeff Goldblum, working his amiably offbeat public persona, born from defining roles in The Big Chill, Jurassic Park and Independence Day, into everything he does. To watch him move through the world is to witness that immutable movie-star magic incarnate as he kisses hands, asks questions and makes the days of strangers with solicitous eye contact and effusive approachability, seemingly without ever flagging. (Goldblum is also the father of two children under 10, who are being raised by Goldblum and his wife, Emilie, a former Olympic rhythmic gymnast, in Florence, Italy.)
It can all seem exhausting – and that’s before learning that Goldblum found the time to personally sign thousands of copies of his new album, which features appearances by his Wicked co-stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande. Yet in a recent interview on Popcast, the actor and musician insisted that the perpetual Goldblum experience – influenced by his study of the Meisner technique – is not an act, but his lifeblood.
“It’s not a performance, and I don’t feel like it’s inauthentic,” he said. “I feel like my interest in people is real and I’m thrilled to be here, when I have an opportunity to let that run free and express itself. That feels wholesome to me, and nourishing.”
In a wide-ranging conversation, he also discussed the quality of his singing voice, his celebrity run-ins at the Met Gala, his musical dream collaborators (including Charli XCX and Lana Del Rey), and his upcoming performances at Cafe Carlyle with his band, the Mildred Snitzer Orchestra.
Below are edited excerpts from the conversation.
On whether music scratches a different itch than acting:
I’ve never been a kind of a marketeer or a careerist or a numbers businessman of any kind. So I would do a lot of movies here and there from the start just for the sheer creative fun of it and hopefully they reached an audience. It’s fun being in a popular movie like Jurassic Park or Wicked. If you’re proud of it and it reaches somebody’s heart and ear and house, it’s really, really sweet. And there’s a similar but a little different flavour in me, in my bosom, from having done these records. It’s just so much fun in a nearby way, but in a little different way.
On singing (and acting) next to powerhouses like Grande and Erivo:
A high bar? That’s the highest bar that’s ever been, of all Homo sapiens. I could have been – I should have been – intimidated from the moment I walked on set. They’re incomparable. If I had any sense about me, I would have been shy. But I’m so bushy-tailed and just happy to be around and interested in interesting people. How can you not be, and just leave all your cares behind in favour of your fascination and enchantment with them? Out of that comes a kind of joie de vivre and musicality on my part. I started to sing everything that I could think of because they sang it with me. They knew everything – every Broadway show that you’ve ever heard of.
I do have a voice that’s less powerful. But I know my limitations and everybody’s got their own voice. In my case, I’ve worked on it, I’ve studied it, I’ve tried to learn about it. And I’ve finally come to accept and realise and celebrate and make use of, as creatively as I can, what I’ve got. Which is OK – I’m grateful for what I got. Singing is a very vulnerable and beautiful thing to do. And I would like to support and cultivate a culture where everybody’s free to sing.
On always being “on” – and what happens when he turns off:
Here’s how I think about it: I don’t feel like I’m on in the way sometimes I hear that word, like people who take up too much oxygen in the room and are hungry for attention – you know the type. That’s not my favourite type, speaking generally, and I don’t feel like I’m like that.
So there’s no “not there” when it’s not there. In fact, I like being by myself and I have plenty to do by myself. I play the piano by myself, I need time by myself to get my homework done and do all sorts of things. I like quiet time. I’m reading these couple books about Frank Sinatra and I’m not one of these types who must have chaos and activity around me like I gather he did a bit, and can’t be alone. That’s not me.
On the enduring influence of his acting training, and how it affects his personality:
Sandy Meisner was very brilliant. I got to him at a big time in my life, when I was first getting introduced and obsessed with this idea of being an actor, and then studied with him when I was 17, 18, 19. So he had a profound impact on me. And yes, I thought that his “use what exists” credo and “be present” and “be alive” and “be spontaneous” had obvious crossover relevance to real life. So it did then and it does now still have something to do with what I aspire to and how I function. I need to come alive and allow myself to enjoy myself, which includes my real interest and delight in other people.
On meeting Kamala Harris at the Met Gala:
You know who told me to never name drop? Robert De Niro. No, that’s a joke. I had a little exchange with Kamala Harris, as I saw her right in front of Frederick Douglass’ top hat and we talked a little bit. I won’t betray the confidence of this little exchange – not that she would mind, perhaps – but she gave a few words of very stirring leadership and I said thank you. I was thrilled to see her.
On whether he would still be open to working with Woody Allen, as previously stated:
I don’t know anything about anything. I’m a humble student of life and how I can contribute to the culture in any way. And, you know, he seems to be retired. I’ve enjoyed some of his movies.
On his enduring – or increasing – relevance in popular culture:
I’m not so focused on the fleeting continuum and ups and downs of whatever is going on here. I’m wildly appreciative that this thing that I wrote on the shower, that I was obsessed with early on – “Please God, let me be an actor” – has actually taken place. Decade after decade now. And the more recent things in the last decade, the last few years, seem to be as delicious as ever.
I feel at the top of my form. I’ve prepared myself – as Abraham Lincoln said: “I shall study and prepare myself so that when my chance comes I shall be ready.” I’m a late bloomer, and I am still blooming, as we joke about on this album title. And the best things are happening, and the best is yet to come, it feels like to me, because I’ve prepared myself.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.
Written by: Joe Coscarelli and Jon Caramanica
Photographs by: Chris Maggio and Jeff Goldblum
©2025 THE NEW YORK TIMES
As in Clarkson's Farm, author Rebecca Hayter switched city living for the country.