This appeared in the June 28, 1985 edition of The Sioux City Journal.
Talk with Judd Nelson for any period of time and you get the distinct impression that, behind all that smoldering intensity, lies even more smoldering intensity.
Unlike the gang he hangs and work with, Nelson is very much an intellectual. He likes going out -- he's the first to admit as much -- but he wouldn't mind spending time engrossed in a book. "I come from a very well-read family," he says.
"The idea that I was going to drop out of college after the second year and go to acting school, well... it sort of surprised them. I think they were concerned because the acting profession is very competitive. Like all success-oriented families, they wanted their son to be a success, so why not enter a field where the chances of success are greater?"
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Very much his own man, the 25-year-old left Haverford/Bryn Mawr College (where he had appeared in school productions) to study with Stella Adler in New York. She put him in several productions and taught him "if you can work for Stella, you can work for anyone."
On a lark, Nelson decided to accompany a friend to Los Angeles. The trip was strictly a look-see. "I was from Maine, I hadn't seen the Pacific... California Girls and all that... and I decided to get an agent and try my luck."
The plan worked. Nelson was cast in "Making the Grade," then "Fandango" and finally "The Breakfast Club," his breakthrough film.
One of five high school students thrust together in detention, Nelson's John Bender afforded him an opportunity to show what kind of intensity he really has.
The young Svengali jumped on tables, harassed his fellow students and dissolved into a heap of emotion. It was, by anyone's definition, a tour de force.
The audition wasn't bad, either. Nelson was so determined to get the part he diligently prepared for days. The secret to John Bender, he found, was in his attitude: "He brings people down to his level. Everyone has put him down, so he's going to spend time pulling everyone down to that level."
That, in essence, is exactly what Nelson did in the interview. "It made for some interesting things," he says with a knowing smirk.
He won't elaborate, but he will say preparation is extremely important -- even if it's just for an audition. "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen," he explains. "That's all part of the job... even If you don't get it. I like to work from strength as opposed to weakness, especially in a craft-oriented field."
Unlike Hollywood's other young turks, Nelson is adamant about calling acting a craft. It's not an art, he says. "It's a performance for the public. If it isn't seen by the public, what's the point of making it? It's not a little picture on a canvas that you keep in the corner of a museum and when you smoke your Havana cigars, you can gaze at a Winslow Homer. It's not that... it's for the public."
Nelson's eyes widen, his nostrils flare as he delves further into the concept. He applies it to his small circle of friends and refuses to comment on his or their abilities. "Actors are craftsmen. Each actor is asked to build a different chair, a different table with a different set of blueprints and a different head of construction. It's hard to say which actors have reached a certain level of acting. Certain performers in certain films are devastating," he says.
He lists only "Birdy" as a picture he admires. "It really depends on the material."
Like his friends, Rob Lowe and Emilio Estevez, Nelson sees "St. Elmo's Fire" as the material that will help him break out of the teen ensemble mold and into an adult role of his own. Of the film's seven stars, he has the most adult role -- a buttoned-down Yuppie who switches political loyalties for economic reasons.
The film has been dubbed "The Little Chill" and has been compared favorably to "The Breakfast Club." Nelson says the only similarity they share is an ensemble cast.
"In 'The Breakfast Club,' no one admits they've shared experiences until the very end. A basic tenet to the story of 'St. Elmo's' is they've all shared things before the story begins. When it does begin, they're already starting to misunderstand each other."
The demise of one group, the uniting of another are interesting fodder for an actor. Nelson dissects each completely, leaning forward as he talks about one, moving away as he discusses the other. His raspy voice pitches up as the explanation takes seed and he begins to make an impact.
"I didn't grow up wanting to be an actor... it wasn't like this childhood dream. It's not a job. It's not like 9-to-5 working. For me, it's all very new. I've only really been acting professionally for just a little over two years."
In that time, he has been employed steadily -- a fact that would make other actors overconfident.
In a boyish way, though, Nelson blushes when he talks about himself, smiles when you express interest in him and stares when he feels he isn't getting through.
"This is way harder than acting. I get very nervous for these things," he says of interviews. Yet he can conquer them, too. It Just takes work.
"The idea behind acting is to build it, to till the ground and fertilize," he says. "You can't force anything to grow, but you can get the ground as fertile as it can be. That's my job," he adds with a smile. "To till and to sow."