Back Row Book Club: Nick Nolte's Rebel
Prior to reading Rebel: My Life Outside the Lines, I knew very little about Nick Nolte outside of a few movies and that unfortunate mugshot. I grabbed it off the shelf at the library because the title made me laugh for cynical, incorrect reasons. I dug into it assuming I’d read the story of a privileged dude ranting about how he was too wild to tame, society’s laws be damned. What I got instead was a profound, insightful, and painfully honest story about someone who found himself in an unexpected life.
The first thing that surprised me was Nolte’s age. The guy’s old. I knew he was a more mature actor in terms of Hollywood but I didn’t realize just how far back he went. He was in fact born in 1941, just before his dad shipped off to fight in World War Two. He was a sensitive kid from an early age, in part because he saw his father come back from war a husk of the man he used to be. Unsurprisingly, he quickly became the type to question the motives of governments and those in power who push young men into combat.
In the early sixties, being rebellious wasn’t too hard. The conformity of the fifties held through until the middle of the next decade, giving way as the Baby Boomer generation came of age. For Nolte, he was in his early twenties and spending time in some pretty groovy circles. He lived in LA in a “come as you are” type house with two women ten years his senior. His memoir is filled with descriptions of drugs, parties, and the inevitable sexcapades that followed, but in many ways he was still a “corn-fed boy” from Nebraska. He was a bit blown away and overwhelmed by all the free living West Coast had to offer.
After a few years of this bohemian LA lifestyle, Nolte suffered a breakdown. His father drove to LA from his new home in Phoenix to pick Nick up and bring him home. Nolte describes this time of trying to get his head sorted and everything back on track as the worst time in his life. He says he recorded his grievances with everything from society to his parents on a reel-to-reel player, even though he admits to having it pretty good overall. It’s obvious throughout his entire book that he is beyond grateful for the support and love his parents gave him, and that the issues he had with society were in some part on his shoulders. One such issue was when he had dealt with the court system after crashing a car filled with fake IDs and draft cards–an offense that could be easily seen as treasonous. The judge told him he was sentencing him to 75 years then suspending that sentence on the condition of probation and community service. While an adult can see how insanely lucky that is, especially for the time, it’s not unreasonable that a surly, still-going-through-a-breakdown 20-year-old might not.
Another surprise was reading about how Nolte got his start in the theater world, doing plays in the areas he lived and participating in summer stock. He initially started college on a football player scholarship, but was tossed from several programs for various reasons. At the time, his identity was tied up in being a jock, so his expulsions destroyed him each time this happened. Theater became a natural fit for Nolte because it allowed him to change his identity–give someone else’s skin a chance for awhile. When he landed a part in the groundbreaking mini-series Rich Man, Poor Man, he was headed towards fame, film, and LA all over again.
Lastly, much of Nolte’s memoirs is devoted to the women he’s loved. He had several wives and long-term partners, including Vicki Lewis of NewsRadio fame, who is nearly 20 years his junior. What’s funny is how often he became involved with women (Lewis being one of them) who had no interest in monogamy, and told him flat out that they needed several partners to be fulfilled romantically. While Nolte was game for the openness, this is where he is more traditional that his “rebel” moniker; he was more interested in having one-on-one relationships and raising children.
Most of us deal with the ups and the downs in our lives, and those who walk in the public eye have to face theirs being offered up for our consumption. The infamous mugshot of Nolte in the Hawaiian shirt with his hair all messy wasn’t from a drunk driving incident; the day he was arrested, Nolte had been ingesting GHB, a drug he was using therapeutically. In fact, aside from past loves, drugs as a form of therapy is the other most commonly discussed topic in his memoir. GHB was not the first substance he used to counter anxiety, depression or past traumas, just the most recent. It’s great that Nick speaks up about how useful these drugs can be while also being honest with us, and himself, about their effects. You won’t see him condoning trying to take care of errands after taking a dose of GHB, but he’ll let you know exactly how wonderful it can be to have that particular compound running through your system.
There’s plenty in Rebel for movie fans who want to hear all the behind-the-scenes tidbits but the real crux of this book is the transformation a person undergoes in their lives. Nolte describes his young, destructive stupidity like self-harming by running head first into walls and cars, and how that person is still with him when he makes mistakes. He’s learned hard lessons, obvious lessons, and lessons that some people might not think need to be learned. It’s an incredibly honest piece of work for someone who has a reputation for serious drinking and telling tall tales. If you just want to read about The Deep, 48 Hrs., Cape Fear or Tropic Thunder, well, that’s all in there too. But for my money, the real magic of Rebel are the parts that just present the story of a human coming to terms with himself.
