Gene Hackman, James Woods, and Paul Newman – Robert Redford’s Explosive Truth About His Most Hated Co-Stars

Robert Redford has always been a paragon of discretion in Hollywood, maintaining his reputation as the “gentleman of New Hollywood” while steering clear of tabloid drama.

But at 88, as he reflected on his career, Redford surprised everyone by naming seven actors he hated working with—each for very different reasons.

These revelations, shared during his final interviews, paint a picture of a man who, despite his calm exterior, navigated decades of creative tension and professional discord.

The first name on Redford’s list was Gene Hackman, whom he described as “a sledgehammer in a violin shop.”

Their clash occurred during the filming of Downhill Racer in 1969, a project Redford had championed and produced.

Hackman’s raw, unpredictable energy clashed with Redford’s disciplined approach, culminating in a heated confrontation when Hackman refused to leave his trailer over a minor lighting issue.

Though their on-screen performances were praised, the off-screen tension was so severe that Redford vowed never to work with Hackman again, vetoing his name during casting discussions for future projects like All the President’s Men.

Hackman’s fiery personality and refusal to collaborate left a bitter taste, ensuring their professional paths would never cross again.

Next on the list was James Woods, whose ideological clash with Redford during an audition for Three Days of the Condor in 1974 cemented his place in Redford’s “never, ever” category.

Woods used the audition as a platform to critique U.S. foreign policy and Hollywood’s liberal hypocrisy, veering so far off script that Redford walked out of the room.

This moment marked the beginning of a quiet blacklist, with Redford vetoing Woods for roles in multiple films, including All the President’s Men and Quiz Show.

Their ideological divide only deepened over the years, as Woods became one of Hollywood’s most outspoken conservatives, while Redford remained a champion of liberal causes.

Though Woods occasionally referenced their rift in interviews, Redford never addressed him publicly, choosing instead to maintain his distance.

Dustin Hoffman also made the list, despite their successful collaboration on All the President’s Men.

Hoffman’s improvisational style clashed with Redford’s methodical approach, creating friction during key scenes.

One particularly tense moment occurred during a newsroom phone call sequence, where Hoffman’s constant ad-libbing forced Redford to recalibrate his performance repeatedly.

While their professional respect remained intact, their temperaments proved incompatible, and they never worked together again.

Hoffman credited Redford for shaping the film’s direction, but Redford avoided reunion panels and retrospectives, signaling a mutual understanding that their creative styles were better kept apart.

Tom Cruise’s inclusion was perhaps the most surprising, given their collaboration on Lions for Lambs in 2007.

Redford’s vision for the film—a stripped-down critique of institutional failure—clashed with Cruise’s focus on branding and personal image management.

Cruise’s insistence on controlling his physical presentation, coupled with his team’s demands for multiple scene edits, frustrated Redford to the point of confrontation.

The creative divide was irreparable, and Redford distanced himself from the project post-release, calling it one of the most frustrating experiences of his career.

Despite Cruise’s charisma, their collaboration highlighted the unbridgeable gap between Redford’s commitment to thematic authenticity and Cruise’s emphasis on optics.

Faye Dunaway, who starred alongside Redford in Three Days of the Condor, was another name on the list.

Dunaway’s perfectionism slowed production, as she frequently requested line rewrites and lighting adjustments, clashing with Redford’s preference for maintaining momentum and preserving raw authenticity.

Their creative disconnect boiled over during a closed-door meeting about Dunaway’s character motivations, where Redford snapped, “It’s espionage, Faye, not Chekhov.”

Though their on-screen chemistry was undeniable, their off-screen relationship was marked by emotional and logistical distance, and they never worked together again.

Robert Duvall, Redford’s co-star in The Natural, also made the cut.

Duvall’s improvisational approach disrupted Redford’s carefully structured performance, leading to tension during key scenes.

One confrontation occurred when Duvall refused to adhere to scripted emotional beats, quipping sarcastically mid-take.

Redford broke character and confronted him, saying, “It’s not your movie.”

Though the film was a success, their creative philosophies clashed so deeply that they avoided joint press tours and future collaborations.

Finally, Paul Newman’s name appeared on the list—not out of hatred, but due to the quiet tension that developed over their years of collaboration.

While their chemistry in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Sting was legendary, Newman’s growing influence as a producer and star created subtle friction.

Redford admitted feeling competitive rather than collaborative toward Newman as their careers evolved, with their once-playful camaraderie giving way to a more formal dynamic.

Though their friendship endured, the creative distance between them grew, and they never reunited for another film.

Redford’s revelations offer a rare glimpse into the complexities of Hollywood collaborations, showing that even the most talented actors can struggle to align their creative visions.

His list wasn’t about personal vendettas or scandals; it was about the challenges of navigating artistic differences in an industry driven by ego and ambition.

For Redford, these experiences shaped his career, teaching him the importance of discretion, professionalism, and staying true to his artistic philosophy.