"RoboCop" actor Peter Weller on the crooked line leading from Ronald Reagan to Donald Trump

Paul Verhoeven’s 1987 film “RoboCop” is a dystopic masterpiece. Set in a (then) near future deindustrialized Detroit, Peter Weller's character Alex Murphy is a police officer who is brutally killed while on duty and then resurrected as the cyborg RoboCop to end crime in the city. Murphy must struggle to regain his humanity in the face of the cruelty of the megacorporation (Omni Consumer Products) that de facto owns Detroit (and by implication America), the police department and most other aspects of public and private life. RoboCop is no longer viewed as human. He is a product with a serial number, an object of capitalist technological “innovation” and a sociopathic ethos where profits are more important than people and life itself.
“RoboCop” is a direct indictment of Ronald Reagan's America and its 1980s ethos of unrepentant greed, spectacle and violence. 40 years later, in the Age of Trump, those hegemonic forces are even more powerful, to the extent that they are viewed by many as common sense and permanent features of American life and culture. Verhoeven’s “RoboCop” is now more of a documentary than science fiction and genre entertainment.
For all of “RoboCop’s” social commentary and entertainment, if not for Peter Weller’s performance, it would likely be remembered as just another disposable action film of the 1980s with lots of shooting and explosions about a cop turned cyborg who fights a giant bipedal robot (ED-209) at the end of the movie.
I recently spoke with Weller about the legacy and politics of “RoboCop,” his long career, turn as a Renaissance man, the importance of jazz and his friendship with Miles Davis. He explains why we should embrace our spirituality and kindness to survive these very difficult and tumultuous times.
Beyond his iconic role in Verhoeven’s two “RoboCop” films, Peter Weller has appeared in dozens of films and TV shows, including the cult classics “The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension!”, David Cronenberg’s adaptation of “Naked Lunch,” and “Screamers.” Weller has also directed TV shows, including FX’s “Sons of Anarchy.” Weller earned his PhD in Italian Renaissance Art History and Roman History from the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) in 2014. His new book is “Leon Battista Alberti in Exile: Tracing the Path to the First Modern Book on Painting.” I spoke with Peter Weller last weekend at the Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo (C2E2) in Chicago.
I want to thank you for what you just did. You have been here most of the day, for hours and you were done signing autographs. You saw that family with their two young children in line and you told them it was OK to talk with you. They didn't buy an autograph. The father just wanted to say hello and thank you for "RoboCop" and your other films. You insisted on signing an autograph with a personal note for their son, who was about 7 or 8 years old. You didn't ask for any money. You made a memory for that child that he will take with him forever. In these times of such trouble, we are going to need so much more of that kindness and humanity. We need to make more good memories together.
Extra kindness is the most important thing now for me. My 2025 New Year's resolution is extra kindness. The Talamud says (and I ain’t no authority on Jewish law — but I think its Berakhot or Blessing 17) that the highest wisdom is kindness. By my nature I am not always a kind person. I can be a cranky guy most of the time. So, I have pledged myself to extra kindness this year.
Where does that critical self-reflection come from for you? I am especially concerned about younger folks right now with all the troubles and horribleness in America and around the world. Some of them have that moral and ethical code and practice the critical self-reflection we are going to need as a people. Too many others do not.
Does anybody really know when they're young, what they stand for? What they're about? Here is something that just happened. Last night, I was talking to a group of young men. I had smoked a cigar at a wonderful spot here in Chicago with a guy and we started talking about history and Kenya. Another guy is talking about Pan-Africanism. The other guy starts explaining how everybody's ripping off Africa as though that is new. And I had to say, now mind you he is 24 years old, "Listen, man, people have been ripping off Africa since back to the Roman Empire. So, it's not like this is something new, where we’re going to the Congo and stealing rare earth metals to make microchips and circuits for computers."
"I had a marvelous two-hour lunch with Ronald Reagan. I never agreed with his politics, but his most penetrating social trait was how very forthcoming and honest he was with me, regarding everyone from Angela Davis to Gorbachev."
We then started talking about Christianity and religion and faith. They are studying theology. They are all good young guys. I listened to them, really listened, and I had to ask them: Beyond theology what are you really studying? They tell me about the New Testament and studying, and biblical truth and interpretations that lead you to the Truth — that capital "T" truth. I'm looking at these young men, kids really, relative to me, and I'm thinking, I'm going to be 78 soon. It's taken me this long through prayer and a lot of meditation, to find my center. But even I don't know what the Truth is. I'm not going to proselytize. I know the distinction between experience and dogma. That's the only judgment I can make. When is someone preaching to me versus when is someone suggesting something?
I was pen-pals with Saul Bellow. I learned a lot from him. He wrote this book called "Ravelstein," it was his last book. And in it he said, "that which is important is never taught, only revealed." And so, I can listen, and I can read. I can do that over and over again. So can every young person in the world. But once in a while, they're going to get a revelation. They're going to go, that's what's true for me! But I'll be damned if I'm going to stand on some pulpit and tell them what that the Truth is.
A student recently asked me about St. Francis of Assisi and the stigmata. Did he really receive the stigmata? It's not whether or not he really received the stigmata. It's the parable, the fact that he identified with the pain and the suffering, and then the kindness of what he thinks Jesus was trying to teach. The facts don’t matter as much as the meaning of whether or not you can see that Saint Francis identified with the kindness and the suffering enough whereby somebody would tell the story about him, emulating the sorrow and the pain of Jesus. The Shroud of Turin. If you are asking whether it is the real and authentic burial cloth of Jesus, then you are asking the wrong question. It is a symbol of something, of throwing your hat over the wall of the 10th door of knowledge. In the end, it is a symbol of not knowing rather than knowing and taking a leap of faith.
During an interview, William Friedkin, director of the 1973 "Exorcist" film, shared how he was invited to Turin, Italy to view what is believed by many to be a sacred relic of Christ. He explained that he didn't know if it — the Shroud of Turin — was real or not, but he felt the power of faith and belief in its presence. It is in such moments — if we are open to the experience — that we feel the power of metaphor, symbols, and yes, faith. Those are transcendent experiences. Few have them.
Friedkin was and will always be one of my dearest friends, and one of the smartest humans I ever met in the film world. Belief is an action; faith is a state of mind. I go back to Zen sitting and Zen meditation. I got to do it every day. When I don't continue with that spiritual practice, I get agitated. When I am continuing with the Zen practices, I can sit in a space of faith, which is really trust. It's not an action. It is something much more. It is about opening your mind to possibilities and connectedness to something else, bigger, maybe even the uncanny. It's just having your mind blown by the parable or the event of something that's never happened before to you.
During an interview about the 2024 election, a rabbi offered the wisdom that to get through these tough times here in America with all the pain, dread, fear, sorrow, loss, terror and collective disinhibition we are seeing, we are going to need to build our own inner Noah’s Ark. As bad as today is, it is good as compared to what comes next. Things are going to become much worse in the United States and much faster. How are you building that inner Noah’s Ark?
I have got to meditate in the morning when I wake up. I have to play the trumpet. I have to go to the gym. I have to take care of my family. I have to keep writing. That is my Noah's Ark. I truly believe what President Obama said on Marc Maron's podcast. "Don't believe anyone if they said nothing has changed in this country." I agree with Obama. I’m not going back to 1968. We have made too much progress as a country to surrender it.
You are best known for your iconic role in Paul Verhoeven’s "RoboCop" film. "RoboCop" is a searing indictment of Reaganism and a type of religious politics which claims that greed is good and is some type of salvation and eucharist. Thinking about the present and this disaster. Is it a straight or crooked line from Reagan to Donald Trump? Something else?
It's a crooked line from Reagan to Trump.
Reagan tried to undo most of the Great Society programs that were created by Lyndon Johnson. Reagan did not want to spend money on the country’s infrastructure, social democracy and helping people and solving our collective problems. Nope. Trickle-down economics was the answer. Trickle-down economics does not work. It was not the answer then. It is not the answer now. Trickle-down economics is garbage. We have decades of evidence that it does not work. So, what are we doing now in this country? More of that mess. I'm afraid to turn on the damn news. I had a marvelous two-hour lunch with Ronald Reagan. I never agreed with his politics, but his most penetrating social trait was how very forthcoming and honest he was with me, regarding everyone from Angela Davis to Gorbachev.
At this point in American history and society, is "RoboCop" more of a documentary than anything else? If I were curating a film festival, I would feature "RoboCop," John Carpenter’s "They Live," "Idiocracy," "Children of Men," and some Terry Gilliam. We are living in that dystopic present.
"RoboCop" endures and we are still talking about it almost four decades later because of the social and political issues it confronted, right there, dead center in the film. Thank God for Edward Neumeier and Michael Miner, because they had their fingers on the pulse of the country in the Reagan 80s and “Reaganomics.” What we are seeing in this country with reactionary politics is just the pendulum of history swinging backward in a bad way. Progress is not guaranteed, especially with so much anger out there, rightly or wrongly, misdirected and the bad choices it is enabling that are making things worse in this country.
You are an accomplished jazz musician. During your recent interview with Marc Maron, you were talking about Amiri Baraka aka Leroi Jones. I had to stop and rewind the conversation. I said aloud, “Weller is quoting 'Blues People'? Damn! He is truly a Renaissance man.” Share some of that journey with me. You also knew the legend Miles Davis. What was he like?
First, speaking of Amiri Baraka I walked up to him at a party in New Orleans at Anne Rice’s digs; told him I was a fan and that I had just finished shooting Naked Lunch and William Burroughs would have probably wanted me to send Baraka a good vibe. The cat thanked me profusely, and I saw a moment of nostalgia in him that was quite moving. By the way, Reagan — in his 60s dilemma with the California campus situation wrote SF State chancellor Glenn Dumke — that “we wouldn’t invite Leroi Jones into our living rooms.” I was thrilled that Anne Rice sure as hell invited him into hers! Secondly — Miles. I wanted to play the trumpet. It’s brassy. Trumpeters need to play all the time because of the embouchure and muscle memory. But I liked it loud, man. I wanted to play like Duke Ellington's guys, Cat Anderson and those guys. I didn't really get Miles. He was too melancholy for me at the time.
Then I heard him a couple of years later on Armed Forces Radio playing “There's a Boat Dat's Leaving Soon For New York” from Porgy and Bess. Miles became my artistic guru of sorts. I can hear some Miles and I remember exactly where I was in my life at that time and what was going on. I know exactly what I was thinking. I know with whom I was hanging or the trauma I was going through at that moment. In the mid-1970s when he wasn't around, I was lost. I really was. Miles is a channel for me, a map and a direction. I was so very fortunate to spend time with Miles Davis.
A close family friend who was like an uncle to me played with Miles a few times. I asked him about Miles, and he said, “moody.” That the Miles you got depended on the time of day and what was going on.
Miles was a moody dude. He could be cold to people. But when we would get together he seemed really happy to see me. Quincy Jones was also really important to me. I miss him. I first met him in Italy while he was touring with Michael Jackson. All we talked about was trumpets and music. Quincy was a trumpet player, and he played with Billy Eckstine and so many other greats. We would meet for dinner on occasion and there would be people like Sidney Poitier there. Quincy also introduced me to Ray Charles. Wow. That was very special. I believe Quincy liked talking to me because he was now surrounded by movies, popular recording, production, and the glitz and glamor of Hollywood. We would talk about music. I just assume he couldn't recollect or revel in discussions about Count Basie and Duke Ellington and sitting on the bandstand and blowing trumpet with many other people, especially in Hollywood.
I wonder about the type of art that the Age of Trump and this global rage and discontent will spawn.
We are going to find out. Jazz is political. Jazz is angry. Jazz is not some nice mood music for a party. No. Jazz comes out of politics of the color line and Black American life and struggle and the human experience.
What’s next for you?
I am off to another convention. Then I am going over to Europe to give a presentation at an art society that is hosting me in Gibraltar. That talk is going to be on my new book and the Italian Renaissance. My new book is, Leon Battista Alberti in Exile: Tracing the Path to the First Modern Book on Painting. It’s from Cambridge University Press. Alberti was a genius — a polymath who grew up in exile from Florence. Scholars would have you think Alberti came to Florence and wrote the first modern book on painting in a couple of months. I say hogwash. His little book on painting — "De pictura" — is a collection of everything he saw before he hit Florence. Get it. And hopefully, there is a new movie project as well. Of course, I can’t talk too much about that yet. There is always jazz. I have a gig in June. I need to keep reinventing life...that is the key.
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