The Past Lives actor now stars in September 5, a journalistic thriller with Oscars-level aspirations. More importantly, it finally grants the 41-year-old his time in the spotlight.
John Magaro Knows That Honesty Is His Greatest Weapon
Everyone starts somewhere. For John Magaro, it was playing an extra in the 2005 film Munich. Magaro was a 20-something “skinny kid,” as he recalls, who walks by Eric Bana on a street in New York City. He didn’t have any lines. Magaro was simply beaming that he was even in eyesight of a legend like director Steven Spielberg.
Whether by kismet or coincidence, Magaro is now starring in another movie—titled September 5—about the 1972 Summer Olympics terrorist attack in Munich. It’s as if he was “method acting,” Magaro jokes. Still, it’s healthy that the 41-year-old actor can find a little humor around the subject. September 5 is a taut, heavy journalistic thriller, surrounded by the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It’s also a film that finally puts Magaro’s talents front and center.
For those who aren’t familiar with the horrific event on September 5, 1972, a Palestinian nationalist organization named Black September kidnapped 11 members of the Israeli Olympic team and held them hostage in the Olympic village. September 5tells the story of the journalists who scrambled to cover the news that day, specifically the ABC Sports team. Even though the ragtag group of sports reporters had no business covering international crime, they stuck to their guns and reported the news.
To this day, the ABC Sports team’s broadcast serves as a bizarre blueprint for news stations around the world. It was the first time that a terrorist attack was covered live on television, and the formula has remained largely the same ever since. By looking back on that fateful day, September 5 reckons that it’s time to rethink how we talk about tragedy.
“They just had to do their job, stay on the air, and tell their story, even though it was—as I say in the movie—a catastrophe,” Magaro tells me. “People looked at it and thought that this is the way to get people to keep their TV on so they can cut to commercial and sell ’em a Buick. And it works. So there’s not much incentive to change the way it’s done. But hopefully people can look at this movie and start to talk about how they consume tragedy in the media.”
In September 5, Magaro plays Geoffrey Mason, a backup producer who is thrown into a leading position once news of the attack breaks. The 41-year-old Magaro delivers a confident, career-altering performance, following his breakout role in last year’s Oscar-nominated indie hit Past Lives. If the film’s recent Golden Globe nomination for Best Picture – Drama is any indication, September 5 is looking like another major contender this awards season.
According to Magaro, a fair amount of that Oscar buzz comes from the hard work he and director Tim Fehlbaum did to learn about the tragic events from Mason’s perspective. “As soon as I was cast, we got in touch,” Magaro says. “I wanted it to be as authentic as possible, and Geoffrey offered very practical advice. He said that it was a crisis, and they just barreled through. There was no time for emotion, and it wasn’t until after that he cried—realizing what happened.”
Magaro appreciated that the crux of the film’s drama rested more in the fast-paced tension of the scene than in the characters themselves. “Other actors might try and imbue more drama,” he says, “but I didn’t want it to be all just doom and gloom. I like feeling emotional when it’s earned.”
Below, Magaro shares his experience bringing the journalism film to screen, working with broadcast equipment from the ’70s, and attempting to feel comfortable on red carpets.
ESQUIRE: The Golden Globes just nominated September 5 for Best Motion Picture – Drama. What do you make of the awards buzz already for the film?
MAGARO:I think I’m the most forgettable person in Hollywood. [Laughs.] I go to these events and they think I’m a producer. I was at the Governors Awards last month. I was there the year before, and I just always feel like a schmuck. You look at Tom Hanks or Kevin Costner or whatever, and then they’re like, Who’s this guy in between them? I’ve done it for 20 years now, and it’s been a very slow road for me. It’s a fucking strange business. Then you add the awards thing on top of it and it becomes the weirdest thing on planet Earth.
If you want to give me an award, I’ll take it. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to receive an award. But if that’s why you’re doing it, as an actor, then you’re fucked. I appreciate it. I love that some people are talking about the film, and I really am grateful for them. When people give me a nice compliment, I’m grateful. When they give me a criticism, I’m hurt. But that’s just how it goes in this business. They tell you day one, when you go to theater school or anything, you got to have thick skin. It’s not a lie. You do.
Past Lives was nominated for Best Picture last year. Does anything feel different this time around?
The only thing different for me this time is that I’ve done it before. Last year at the Golden Globes, I almost started crying because I felt so out of place. I was like,What am I doing here? But then at the Academy Awards, I felt like, Okay, I kind of get this.I ran into Jeremy Strong at the Governors Awards, who I’ve known since The Big Short.When you start to see familiar faces, it’s nice. But what does Will Ferrell say in Talladega Nights? “Where do I hold my hands?” It feels like that. That sums up the entire red-carpet awards experience. This time around, I’m starting to understand where to put my hands.
You’ve been asked so many times about your process in portraying Geoffrey Mason. No shade to Geoffrey, but it’s not like everyone is watching to see if you sound like Elvis or not. I imagine it was a welcome creative freedom that you could create a version of him that worked best for the movie.
Yeah. There was no pressure to imitate him in any way. You don’t feel those constraints. But I get it. People like to know how it’s done. When we go around for awards season, I’ll pull the curtain up a bit, but mythologies are created around actors and how movies get made. I heard about a director once who was going around saying that they shot a movie in a certain number of days. And each time they did an interview, the days got less and less, because then it’s more intriguing.
For this, it was more important to learn how to call a live broadcast. Geoffrey got me into the broadcast rooms at CBS, and that was such a help. When an actor plays an instrument, they’re like, “Well, did you learn to play the instrument?” When I did First Cow, it was important for me to learn how to cook. If you care about it, as an actor, then that’s what you do. A lot of indie films, you just don’t have access to it and you have to figure it out on your own. But we had the resources mainly because of Geoffrey. So that meant going in there, being around those people, and learning it as best as I could. That was really important to me.
When I spoke to Tim Fehlbaum, he told me that almost everything in the room was actually equipment from the time. Did you work with any of it?
I played with the headset and the walkie-talkies for a couple of weeks, just so it became like an extension of my limbs. The other one that was important was the reel-to-reels. There’s a scene where I changed the reel and have to work that machine. Luckily, we had great technicians around in Munich who got these machines from ’72 into working order. That never happens. Usually, you work on a movie with an old car and it always breaks down. But I arrived on set a few weeks before I ever had to do that scene, and I would just go in there and really get comfortable with it.
How did you first meet Tim and get involved with the film?
He just sent me the script. I looked at it and I saw Sean Penn was producing. A lot of times when I’m sent a script cold like that, it’s really about the story and the character, and all that was there. I liked the story of Geoffrey being pushed and pulled in these two directions—and what that kind of media has become versus what it once was. Plus, Geoffrey is a young person trying to make their way and build a career—all stuff that I’m obviously very familiar with. As an actor, you constantly have the push and pull of the selling out versus staying true as an artist. It resonated with me. It also reminded me of films that I love, like All the President’s Men. That was innovative and really created the journalism thriller genre. When you get a script like that, you go to Germany for three months and do it.
Is there anything that Tim said to you about why he had you in mind for the role?
I think it was because he saw First Cow. He felt like I brought an honesty to that character, which is something that I strive to do. When we first talked, it seemed like he wanted to make this docu-narrative hybrid film. And it seemed like we were on the same page, because that’s how I saw it, too. My favorite projects are the ones that just feel authentic.
Obviously, it’s a very charged time right now between Israel and Palestine—not that it ever isn’t—but I’m sure it was an easier film to take on before the recent escalation.
Sure. But it’s always going on. It would be a cop-out to say, “Well, we filmed it before October 7.” Tim may have told it in a different way if things were as raw as they are right now, but it’s a shame that it has to ever get this raw. Nothing’s changed. If you want to ask a question about this film, maybe it’s that we need to find a solution instead of just constantly doing the same cycle—making no real progress. Then the next horrible event happens that the news covers in a sensational way. And we forget about that. I get that it’s their job. They need ratings and they want people to be engaged. But I wonder at what cost.
Opening image credits: Jacket, shirt, and trousers by Edward Sexton; watch by Omega.
Photographs by Ruben Chamorro
Styling by Mary-Anna Kearney
Fashion Assistance by Lexi Lang
Grooming by Layla Hayani
Design Director, Rockwell Harwood
Contributing Visual Director, James Morris
Executive Director, Entertainment, Randi Peck
