Willie Nelson on Robert Redford: How a Chance Encounter Led to Hollywood
In his memoir It’s a Long Story: My Life, Willie Nelson recalls the unlikely path that led him from the stage to the silver screen. At the heart of that journey was a chance meeting with Robert Redford, a friendship that began in the late 1970s and eventually brought Willie into the world of movies.
“I met Robert Redford at a benefit in New York City,” Willie remembers. “The next day, we were sitting side by side on the flight back to Los Angeles. We struck up a conversation, and before long he was telling me about a new film he was making with Jane Fonda and director Sydney Pollack—The Electric Horseman.”
Redford leaned over and asked, “Ever thought about doing a movie, Willie?”
The reply was pure Nelson: “Sure. But tell me this, Bob—is acting anything like having a conversation?”
“That’s exactly what it’s like,” Redford answered.
With that, something clicked. Redford told Willie he was a natural—that the same relaxed authenticity he carried on stage would translate on screen. Encouraged, Willie decided to take a leap. He called Sydney Pollack directly, introduced himself, and asked for a part in the film. Pollack laughed warmly and agreed to let him audition. The role of Redford’s manager became Willie’s, and The Electric Horseman marked his Hollywood debut.
Willie played himself, or as he put it, “I didn’t plan and I didn’t rehearse. I learned the lines, but I bent them my own way.” Pollack even kept one of Willie’s improvised lines—borrowed from a book by his Texas friends Bud Shrake and Dan Jenkins—despite its salty humor. The movie was a success, the reviews were strong, and Willie’s songs “My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys” and “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys” on the soundtrack introduced him to an even wider audience.
What began as a casual conversation on a plane had changed the course of his career. Movies, Willie discovered, could be fun, lucrative, and every bit as personal as music if approached in his own way. He began exploring film projects of his own, including an early attempt to adapt his ballad Red Headed Stranger for the screen. Hollywood, however, wanted Redford in the role instead of Willie. Universal Studios pushed for Bob as the star and even dangled record label contracts as part of the deal. Willie called Redford, who admitted he liked the script but never committed. By the time two years had passed, the studio’s interest had faded, and the project was shelved. Still, Willie refused to give up—he believed the story would one day find its way to the screen.
In the meantime, his movie career blossomed. He starred in Honeysuckle Rose alongside Dyan Cannon and Amy Irving, a film that birthed one of his most enduring songs, “On the Road Again.” Sydney Pollack, who produced the picture, asked Willie on a plane ride what he might write for the soundtrack. With a half-smile, Willie replied offhandedly: “On the road again…” By the time they landed, the lyrics were finished. The melody followed quickly, and the song became one of his biggest hits, later even nominated for an Academy Award.
Hollywood took notice. In Barbarosa, Willie played a rugged outlaw, leaning into the image the press had already branded him with for years. In Songwriter, written by Bud Shrake, Willie starred as Doc Jenkins, a thinly veiled version of himself—a singer tangled in the mess of promoters and producers, chasing peace while forever drawn back to the road.
Through it all, his connection to Robert Redford remained a touchstone. It was Redford who had first planted the idea, who had told him he was a natural, and who had opened a door Willie might never have walked through otherwise. Looking back, Willie reflected with gratitude: “For the most part, I did what Bob predicted I’d do—I said what came naturally. And somehow, that was enough.”
In that simple exchange, two legends—one from music, one from film—discovered a bond that would ripple across their careers. For Willie Nelson, the road from stage to screen began not with ambition, but with friendship—and with Robert Redford’s quiet assurance that sometimes, just being yourself is all it takes.