Al Ruddy on the highs and lows of making the knockout movie Million Dollar Baby and the resulting jubilation at the Academy Awards in 2005

I think they were probably the two greatest nights of my life. It went from Clint Eastwood giving me the Academy Award for The Godfather in 1973 to me handing Clint Eastwood an Oscar for Million Dollar Baby in 2005 and closing the circle with a movie that no one wanted to make that won four fucking Oscars.

In the 1970s studios were very involved with the Academy, the movies and the publicity. Clint Eastwood called me 10 days before the ceremony and said, “Look, I don’t normally do this, but I’m doing it because I’m sure you are going to win.” Being a producer, I said, “Well, Clint, in case I don’t – there are great movies like Cabaret up this year – nobody will see the official ballot, so if I don’t win, just tear it up, swallow it and say: ‘The winner is The Godfather… Al Ruddy.’” I thought it was funny.

However, the way the night was going it wasn’t so funny. I saw my chances of winning an Oscar fading rapidly. Liza Minnelli got an Academy Award, Joel Grey got an Academy Award, but Francis did not get an Academy Award – either for directing or writing. The only other award given for The Godfather was to Marlon Brando for Best Actor, but he never showed up – instead, he had an “Indian Princess” go up, get the award and denounce the disaster that befell Native American Indians at the hands of the white man. I wanted to jump off the balcony. I thought, “Jesus Christ, what a bastard night this is – a fiasco for us!”

One of the things I felt would minimise the chances of us winning was that The Godfather had been out for almost a year. Usually, they choose films from releases in November and December. We came out in March, so were old hat by the time the Academy Awards took place. I thought, “Oh, God, people are tired of this.” We did the normal Academy screenings at the studio but everybody had seen the movie once or twice so not many people showed up. I was less than hopeful we would win but, needless to say, when Clint Eastwood got up there and said, “The nominees are… and the winner is Al Ruddy, The Godfather!” I almost jumped out of my shoes. I said, “Now that’s what I call a friend! That’s a friend for you! Jesus Christ!” I went running up. I said, “Thanks, Clint, thanks.” He said, “You idiot… Look!”

There’s a picture of me looking at the ballot. I was so carried away I couldn’t imagine that I had actually won! My mouth is agape looking at the ballot and going, “Jesus Christ!” It was an astounding award – and to get it from Clint, who is a great friend, and to have my mother with me made it such a great night.

So then we dissolve the other things I have done – The Cannonball Runs, The Longest Yard etc – and I get nominated 30 years later for Million Dollar Baby. It would have been much harder even to get nominated for Million Dollar Baby in the 1970s. Then, small movies were small movies; the big ones generally got the Academy attention and no one took small movies seriously. But as the market expanded and the studios realised that every actor in the world has a movie he wants to make, it started.

I have to give Harvey Weinstein credit for realising the potential of small, speciality films. For a very long time he was the only one buying them for Miramax – Shakespeare in Love, The English Patient etc – and winning Oscars. Suddenly, the industry said, “There is money in that kind of stuff” – and it became more of a business. Last year I think four or five of the small independent movies were Oscar-nominated.

Million Dollar Baby was a 70-page novella in Rope Burns, a collection of stories about boxing by FX Toole. Anjelica Huston called me and said, “I want you to read this story and if you don’t cry, don’t ever call me back. If you do, I’d like you to produce it and me to direct.” I said, “OK!” So I get this book and I swear I’m crying in my bed. As tears roll down my face, my wife says, “What you crying about?” and I say, “Nothing. I’ve got something in my eye; go back to sleep.”

I fall in love with the piece, and I want to get in touch with the writer. But the agent says, “Forget it. This guy was an obscure writer when he wrote this, but now he is going to be a big star. He’s got a huge advance on his next book, Pound for Pound, and, just so you know, Dustin Hoffman and Paul Haggis had made a deal with HBO because they wanted to do a series of boxing movies and to start out with Million Dollar Baby. Well, after negotiating with HBO, FX Toole and his agent believed they had a deal with them, not knowing how things work in Hollywood. HBO tried to change the numbers slightly and FX flipped out and didn’t want to deal with any more Hollywood guys. I’ll put you in contact with him, but he won’t be interested. Hey, he lives out in Redondo Beach and is a crazy Irishman. Give him a buzz.”

I call up FX, one of the most fascinating men I ever met. He lived most of his life in boxing, and it turns out he was a bouncer in The Village in New York with – you ready? – Al Lettieri who played Sollozzo in The Godfather! My connection had brought Al Lettieri from London and introduced him to Francis, and he got the part. FX loved that, so I quickly said, “Why don’t we get together for a drink?’ “I can’t, I’m in AA.” I said, “Well, I’ll drink and get you a Coca-Cola.” Needless to say, him being an Irishman, we met at the Grand Havana club at about 2pm and we came out at about 7pm. He, having had a number of martinis and some bottles of beer, said, “I want to do this movie with you. I trust you.”

So now I have the story rights, and Anjelica Huston calls me and says she has to bail out. “Look, as much as I like the book, Julia Roberts has asked me to write and direct a film for her to star in, so I have to bid adios.” Shocked, I mumbled, “Thanks for at least making me aware of the property.”

Paul Haggis, the attached writer with Dustin Hoffman at HBO, worked for me when we did Walker Texas Ranger in the early 1990s. He calls excitedly: “I’ve studied the material. If I write the script, will you let me direct it?” “Paul, I would use best efforts to let you direct it, with one proviso. This is important: I will never, ever do Million Dollar Baby as a small film production without major elements, because it will get lost.” There was a movie that came out the previous year called Girl Fighter with a Latino girl called Rodriguez. It didn’t even make its costs back. I said, “There is no great market for woman boxers, especially ones that die in the film. Write the script. If we get a major element that buys you as a director, you’ve got the job.”

Paul’s agent sends the script to Tom Rosenberg, who gives it to his best friend, Hilary Swank. They call me up and ask me to come over to Paul’s house to meet Tom and Hilary which, of course, I did. I think she’s a genius. They want to put together Hilary Swank and Morgan Freeman – the other part is still open – with Paul directing, for $7m. I say, “No, I won’t do that.” “Why not?” “Because no one will see it… It has to be a major production, then you could direct it.” My relationship with Paul frayed to the point where I said, “Paul, take your fucking script… I’ll develop another one!”

I go on holiday to Sun Valley, and who’s there? My buddy Clint. I tell him how excited I am with the script. One reason why I have kept friends in Hollywood is because I don’t call them up constantly imposing silly scripts on them. But I told him, “Clint, this is so fucking brilliant, you got to have a look at it.” So he calls me the next day and agrees it is a brilliant script, but a real downer. I said, “Clint, you only want to make movies where you laugh or cry, you don’t want to make movies in the middle.” The next day, he calls me and says, “I’m in. I gave the script to my wife and she cried all night.”

Even with Clint on board, no studio wanted it, this downer. Who wants a movie about a girl boxer who gets paralysed, chews her tongue off, has her leg cut off and dies… with two old guys? Finally, we negotiated with Warner Brothers, and they buy all domestic rights for $15m, which is a gift, and Tom buys the foreign rights for $15m, which is a gift too.

Making the movie with Hilary, Morgan and Clint is probably one of the most delightful times I’ve had in the movie business: watching a great director, with three great actors. When it’s finished, we are screening to the head of the studio – who initially wasn’t convinced he wanted to make the movie – and he’s sitting in the screening room crying! Clint did the music a couple of nights earlier at his house, just playing around with the piano.

When we had the first audience screening, people were expecting Rocky, a movie where she would win every fight. When she became paralysed, it was like someone sucked the air out of the audience. Not one person moved, not one, they were so stunned. It was such a twist to the movie and, let’s face it, everyone has known someone who has died – people understand the emotion and tragedy in this movie. It sucks you in and then twists so completely, people are floored. People respected the movie so even the critics kept the end secret. Only later, when the church said Clint was advocating euthanasia, was there anything negative. But, thank God, it was Clint directing; had it been a liberal there might have been problems. Clint Eastwood is Clint Eastwood, and above reproach. It was the first time Clint ever cried in a movie: when he goes and unplugs her lifeline, I swear we were all crying. The make-up girls were giving everyone Kleenex on set!

What helped was the way they released the film. It was only in three theatres at first, and getting great critical acclaim, then it went to 15 theatres, and they rolled it out slowly. We did 120 domestic and 150 foreign on that little movie. You do something about a girl boxer, an old black guy who couldn’t get a job, and a washed-up fighter, you make them fall in love with them and then you break their fucking hearts at the end. It’s so powerful. Keep it simple. Clint keeps it simple – short and simple, honest and naked – so when the emotions start you can’t leave it, you stay.

That year the Academy Awards was a night I will always remember. This is a movie no one wanted to finance, no one wanted to make – a downer that no one wanted to see. The evening starts… Academy Award: Morgan Freeman. Academy Award: Hilary Swank. Academy Award: Clint Eastwood, Best Director. Academy Award: Al Ruddy, Clint Eastwood, Best Picture. It was such an amazing experience and the movie was so unique. Morgan was at the peak of his talent, and, obviously, I think Clint should have been nominated for Best Actor. He would have been had we not been nominated in so many categories.

So after the Governor’s Ball, we were all going to different parties, but agreed we were to meet afterwards at a small bar on Melrose Place for a last drink. Just the six of us. Sitting on that little table there were all our awards, and we just looked at them. It was amazing! This was one of the things that hardly ever happens in Hollywood; it was an astounding ending. A clutch of fucking Oscars sitting on a table in a little bar, for a movie that cost $28m, a movie no one believed in and no one wanted to make.

- Legendary producer Al Ruddy is a Double Academy Award winner

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