At 88, Robert Redford shocked Hollywood by revealing a list of seven actors he “couldn’t stand” during his career.

 

 

 

 

These aren’t backstage rumors or autobiographical innuendos.

These are the words of an icon himself – a legend once known for his calm, polite, and reserved demeanor, now far enough removed from the limelight to speak out about what he’s kept to himself for decades.

The names on this list aren’t just colleagues, they’re icons – but for Redford, fame or talent never overshadowed his attitude, work ethic, or lack of respect during his collaborations.

Jean Hackman was one of the first names to come up. The two had worked together on *Downhill Racer*, and while critics praised their chemistry, the truth was they didn’t get along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Redford described Hackman as “a hammer in a violin shop”—a gifted artist who lacked control and was impulsive.

Hackman would often throw tantrums, challenge the director, and disrupt shoots over seemingly trivial matters.

Redford, who valued discipline and collaboration, found it exhausting to work next to a colleague who sought to monopolize creative space.

James Woods, on the other hand, was a different story. Although the two had never acted together, Woods repeatedly auditioned for Redford’s projects but was always turned down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not only were they politically different—Woods was radical, argumentative, and liked to show off his intellect in casting calls—but Redford saw in him a chaotic, confrontational energy.

“I don’t want to manage a storm,” Redford once said. After one particularly tense audition, he wrote Woods’s casting file with just three words: “Never again.”

With Dustin Hoffman, the conflict did not explode but smoldered. In *All the President’s Men*, the two formed one of the most memorable film pairings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But behind the perfect shots was Redford’s annoyance with Hoffman’s unrestrained improvisational style.

He saw Hoffman constantly changing lines, positions, and even lighting to draw the camera to him – behaviors that made Redford, who always valued precision and consistency, “grit his teeth” to endure.

“Once was enough,” he said when asked why he did not work with Hoffman again.

The worst experience was probably with Tom Cruise on *Lions for Lambs*, a film that Redford both directed and starred in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the beginning, Redford wanted to make a deep and restrained political film, but Cruise – who always brought a PR team with him – wanted everything to revolve around his personal image.

The collaboration quickly turned into a battle for control. Cruise demanded changes to the lighting, the script, and even re-edited scenes to “make it look better.”

Redford eventually emotionally abandoned the project, stopped promoting it, and never spoke again.

With Faye Dunaway, her partner on *Three Days of the Condor*, the coldness was mutual. Dunaway was a perfectionist to the point of obsession; she trusted no one, not even her directors or co-stars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Redford once described her as “a hurricane in high heels.” Despite the film’s success, the behind-the-scenes experience was a tense one, with countless retakes for minor changes.

Dunaway constantly requested footage, edited dialogue, and questioned every scene. For Redford, it was no longer about creativity—it was “measuring every millisecond to control everything.”

Robert Duvall was no exception. In *The Natural*, the two opposing styles clashed. Duvall was spontaneous, impulsive, and unscripted, while Redford was meticulous and eager for chemistry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A heated argument broke out on set as Duvall repeatedly disrupted the emotional rhythm Redford was trying to build. “He wanted jazz,” Redford said, “and I wanted harmony. It wasn’t music, it was chaos.”

But the biggest shock was Paul Newman. The two were a legendary Hollywood duo—from *Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid* to *The Sting*.

 

 

 

 

 

But according to Redford, that friendship gradually frayed as Newman began to take more control of their projects together.

Redford felt sidelined. Worse, he was constantly living in the shadow of Newman, who was revered by the media as the soul of the couple.

“Paul was the face, I was the caption,” he said. There were no scandals, no public spats—just a gradual, irreparable estrangement.

These revelations are not meant to belittle anyone. Redford acknowledges that all those he has clashed with are great artists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But what he wants to make clear is that talent does not exempt anyone from moral responsibility and respect for their colleagues.

For him, filmmaking is a collective endeavor, not a stage for ego. And despite the light that has been shed on his artistic life, he does not deny that Hollywood has its dark side.

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