Spike Lee

I was a nervous wreck the day I met Spike Lee.

On a snowy day in February, I trekked to Brooklyn to interview Spike for The New York Times Sunday Routine column, which I often wrote.

I was always pitching my NYT editor high-profile celebs who I thought would be fascinating, but were tough to book. When I got a green light for Spike, and he said yes, I was floored.

In the weeks leading up to it, I had butterflies in my stomach, my chest, my neck, you name it. He’s a filmmaking icon. He’s known for his take-no-prisoners personality. HE’S. SPIKE. LEE.

But I faced my fear and walked into his 40 Acres and a Mule headquarters.

I’ve told this story a few times on Really Famous, so I won’t go through the entire interview here. (See my talk with Michael Imperioli or my talk with Danny Aiello for the juicy details.)

It came down to this: An air of frustration. One word answers. Eye rolls. I was sure he disliked me.

But something shifted when I asked about his childhood. We talked about Bye Bye Birdie, Radio City Music Hall, his mother, and also my father.

He started smiling (with less smirk). He asked me questions. His sentences grew longer. Before I left, Spike gave me a personal tour of his incredible memorabilia collection. (I was told this doesn't happen often.)

Even so, I left feeling like I’d been swept up and spit out by a tornado.

I decided to record myself talking about the encounter.

I just shared a short video clip on Instagram. It's about 3-4 minutes of me shaking my head, sighing, saying it was one of the wildest interactions I’ve ever had with another human. (Follow + watch here.)

A couple of months later, I went back to Spike’s for the photo shoot. I was more relaxed because I had nothing to lose. Spike and I chatted a bit. The photographer took pictures. And that was that.

Soon after, my story ran in the NYT. (You can read it here.)

A few months later, I saw him again, unexpectedly, at Danny Aiello’s memorial service. Sigh.

I walked over to Spike to say I had a clip of Danny saying something very sweet about him on my show, a few months before he died. As I approached him, I said, “Hi Mr. Lee, it’s Kara, your NYT Sunday Routine writer.”

He said, “I know who you are,” with a smirk and that Spike Lee smile, implying I said something ridiculous.

Since then, we’ve had a few more encounters. I’m still hoping he’ll sit down with me again, for an episode of Really Famous. He hasn't said yes yet, but that won't stop me from trying. And maybe next time, he’ll answer my questions with 10 or 12 words, instead of just one.

We'll see. I'll keep you posted.