Actor B-side himself over book

Kirk Baird

Monday, Aug. 6, 2001 | 8:26 a.m.

Information: 638-7866.

Bruce Campbell may be the coolest man in America.

Forget Sean Connery too old.

Russell Crow's tough-guy image is cool, but then there are those mood swings. He won an Oscar and had Meg Ryan (for a while, anyway) how bad can it be?

And Tom Cruise? Any guy on the cover of a women's magazine is not cool looks do not a cool guy make. This eliminates Brad, Ben, Matt and most of the other Hollywood pretty boys.

So there you have it, Campbell wins by default. There's only one problem: many people have no idea who the coolest man in America is.

For those wanting a quick course in "Campbell-ology," Campbell, in terms of his career, is the flesh-and-blood equivalent of "The Simpsons" character Troy McClure, the (in)famous actor of "You might remember me from such films as ..." fame.

You might remember Campbell from such films and TV shows as: the "The Evil Dead" trilogy, in which he portrayed quintessential anti-hero Ash; "The Adventures of Brisco County Jr." and "Jack of All Trades," in both of which he had the title roles; and the syndicated hits "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys" and "Xena: Warrior Princess" in the recurring role of Autolycus, "King of Thieves."

To learn even more about the "coolest man in America," there's no better place to start than his new book, "If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor" (LA Weekly Books, $23.95), which is at No. 19 on the New York Times Bestseller list. Campbell will be autographing copies of the book Tuesday at Borders Books Music & Cafe on North Rainbow Boulevard.

"If Chins Could Kill" is a 300-page look at the life and times of a 43-year-old actor. Part comedic gem, part invaluable how-to guide for the movie business, the book is a "regular Joe's" look at Tinseltown.

Which was Campbell's plan all along.

"I want a garage mechanic from Muncie, Ind., to be able to go, I understand this book; I can relate to this book,'" Campbell said in a recent interview from his home in Jacksonville, Ore.

So don't expect the teary confessions or bratty whining about why life is so difficult, which have rendered most Hollywood bios cliche.

"They can get so sappy. I started to read a Judy Garland (biography), this book called Get Happy.' Within the first three pages it was, Then Judy was devastated,'" Campbell said in melodramatic fashion. "It was Behind the Music.'"

Besides, he reasoned, "Lots of people get divorced. Why do they need to hear about mine?"

Campbell was born in Royal Oak, Mich., the youngest of three boys, and had a normal childhood as a "free-range kid," he said. This meant having the creative freedom to explore and enjoy the world around him, as is humorously documented in the book.

By the age of 8, after seeing his father in a community theater production, Campbell was bitten by the acting bug. While in his teens he found himself drawn further into film, and he befriended neighborhood boys who shared a similar passion, including future Hollywood director Sam Raimi, who's currently lensing the big-budget "Spider-Man" movie due in theaters next summer.

The group made super-8 camera-shot movies of the experimental (read: cheesy) kind. But always there was a driving curiosity there, which pushed them to learn more and improve their techniques.

In late 1979 Campbell, Raimi and another buddy, Rob Tapert, along with a small cast and crew comprised of friends and family, went to the small, remote town of Morriston, Tenn., to begin work on a feature-length horror film.

Titled "Book of the Dead," the filmmakers were operating on a budget of $85,000, which they'd raised from family, friends and random solicitations over the phone.

It was a grueling 2 1/2-month shoot, which Campbell vividly recalls in sometimes funny, sometimes brutal accounts over the course of several chapters in his book.

"And in writing about it, I often found myself laughing and wincing at the same time," he said.

All Campbell's on-the-set troubles proved to be worth it, however, after the film, eventually retitled "Evil Dead," proved to be his big break.

Although not a box-office hit, the movie's mix of blood, chills and comedy developed a strong following, eventually leading to two sequels: 1987's "Evil Dead II" and 1993's "Army of Darkness."

From there the actor's demand increased, and he eventually became one of the top B-movie actors working in Hollywood. While that might seem a dubious distinction, in Campbell's estimation it's an honor.

"Generally the reason they're B movies is because they don't have the budget that these big A pictures have; you've got to go with secondary cast members," he said. "It's all second string, which doesn't mean it's bad.

"I look at B movies like how Avis (rental car company) views themselves: 'We're No. 2, we try harder.' And you've got to try harder because you don't have as much money, you don't have as much time to shoot and you can't do as many effects, or if you do, they have to be done in a different way."

His success in film and television, combined with leading-man looks, a sharp wit and the easy-going demeanor of a "normal guy" with a wife and two kids, has led to his amassing a significant fan base, one that rivals many A-movie actors.

Campbell is grateful for the support, but he takes his cult following in stride.

In one chapter, "Fanalysis," he examines his status as pop-culture icon, which includes a gaggle of websites, action figures (based on his character Ash) and fans who have his face tattooed on various parts of their body.

"I do appreciate the unbridled enthusiasm, but I'm not sure what it means," he said. "For the most part the fans are pretty normal. If you saw them standing in line you would not be frightened at all. I mean, you've got your occasional hard-core guy who will introduce his 16-year-old son as Ash. I guess as those movies stay around for a while, they'll settle in."

But with his role as a wrestling-ring announcer in "Spider-Man," it's only going to get worse.

Although his part doesn't sound like much -- and on paper it wasn't, only four pages in the script -- it does carry a tremendous responsibility: giving Spider-Man his name.

"I tell him he's got to jazz his name up a little, he's got to be (in announcer voice) 'The Amazing Spider-Man!' " he said. "Without my pivotal character, this big-budget movie would be called 'The Human Spider.' "

And how cool would that be?