Cigar Aficionado continued

Coppola wasn't after soap opera; he demanded high art. And damn the cost, damn whatever toll it would take on himself and everyone else, Francis Coppola would settle for nothing less than a masterpiece.

Where was Fishburne in all this? On that boat, caught in the vortex of this giant swirl of talent and ambition. Fishburne found it daunting, of course, as anyone would, no matter what his age. But the young actor developed an effective strategy for getting past his monumental doubts and fears. "Here I am, surrounded by these amazing guys, and they're making me responsible for my crap," Fishburne says today. "And I'm thinking, 'Wow, if these cats were artists, and if they were making The Great American Movie, and if I was hanging out with these cats, then I could be like them. They had honored me with a place at their table; I was an element in their painting, so I must be one of them.' And so I decided that I would act that way. Then and there I made up my mind: acting, I would take it seriously."

Fishburne's role was not small. He played "Clean," a raw, freaked-out young Navy gunner on the boat. To learn the ropes, to understand what Coppola was demanding, Fishburne diligently studied Martin Sheen, who was playing the central role of Capt. Benjamin Willard, the assassin with orders to eliminate Walter E. Kurtz, the renegade U.S. colonel played by Marlon Brando. But even watching and working with Sheen, a seasoned pro, was not enough. Because Coppola gave all his actors something exceptional: almost total artistic freedom--and that shook young Fishburne right to the marrow.

"We had a script and everything, but the dialogue, what we did on the boat, that was up to us to create," Fishburne says. "Francis would say, 'The scene starts here and the scene ends here. This is basically what you're doing. How you get there, that's up to you.'" In Fishburne's mind, Coppola was essentially saying: OK, go. Do what it takes. Improvise. Create. Spread your wings and fly, baby. But beware: you won't be getting any parachute from me. What, ultimately, did Coppola want from his actors? Fisburne is clear: "A moment of combustion."

Week after week, month after month, Coppola's approach kept young Fishburne on the razor's edge, balanced precariously between a sense of power and a sense of terror. "He gave us the window to create, but it was also really scary," Fishburne says. "Because you are responsible. Francis's message was clear: 'I'm not telling you what to say. I'm not putting words in your mouth. I'm not putting thoughts in your head. So if the shit comes out and it's fucked up, that's on you.'"

Fishburne never went to acting school; this was his acting school. This was where he forged his skills; this was where he forged his mindset and his artistic credo. These came in part from the great actors around him but also from watching many of the people Coppola had recruited for his production team. People like the legendary Italian cinematographer Vittorio Storaro.

"I'd be sitting there watching Vittorio do his thing," Fishburne recalls, "and often Vittorio would turn to Francis and say, 'I wonder, you know, if it would be possible for us to wait two weeks for this shot, to get the right light?' Two weeks! And Francis would go, 'OK, maestro, if that's what we have to do, that's what we have to do.'"