On the day he receives the Golden Lion for lifetime achievement at the Venice Film Festival 2026, George Clooney remains witty, but a touch less mischievous than usual. In the press room he speaks with a philosophical edge: “What will I do tonight? I’ll have a drink, I’ll go to dinner with my wife—this is a city where you can secretly find a restaurant with only four tables, where perhaps the owner eats with you.” Doesn’t that make him resemble Jay Kelly, the Hollywood star who portrayed him last year? “A bit, yes, but at 65 everything is melancholy; even when you brush your teeth you see in the mirror that they aren’t the same as they used to be.” It is a complaint far from being merely serious: “I have a fantastic wife who loves me, beautiful children, I can work whenever I want… we must focus on the beautiful things. It’s right to feel the weight of things, but we must also remember lightness.” Not all the topics touched at the press conference were light, though, as one would expect.
George Clooney, the cinema, the career and the AI
Being famous isn’t the goal for George Clooney, in case anyone still wonders: “I love storytelling, we can’t live without it and we need it to see the world through other eyes, otherwise we end up demonizing one another, closing ourselves off. I’m serving as an executive producer on a film, Furies, about Lebanon. The narrative is a way to explore places you’ve never seen and perhaps never will, also to understand that we’re not that different.”
Was it fate that he’d receive a career prize at Venice? “I have a thirty-year love affair with Venice, I even got married here! The fondest memory is my wedding, partly because if I answered differently there would be trouble. Venice gives you hope; it’s not merely a romantic city, and the same goes for the Festival.” It doesn’t depend on the outcomes of the catwalks and premieres: Clooney still cherishes the memory of presenting his directorial work Good Night and Good Luck, which cost only $6 million and benefited greatly from that exposure. Jokingly, he recalls also the moment he suggested to Catherine Zeta-Jones to run away after the screening of Prima ti sposo, poi ti rovino, due to the audience’s icy reception—they didn’t laugh at all. He hadn’t realized at the time that the majors were abandoning the big film festivals, but he isn’t surprised: in his view, after the blockbuster era inaugurated by Jaws in 1975, the studios drifted away from a type of production that relies on this kind of promotion.
Careers are a boomerang, he explains with a serene smile: they rise and fall, luck matters a lot, as do the real friendships that stand by you no matter what. After all, he mainly remembers the human experiences on a set when he re-watches one of his films. Now he’s coming to terms with the passing of time and other responsibilities, which is why he directs fewer features and prefers acting: “I have two nine-year-old children: if I act, three months on a project are enough; if I direct, I stay committed for a year.” He chooses films not only based on the script—still essential—but also on the how and when; today he has other needs in life. He used to do two or three films a year; now he can’t do that anymore. And the roles offered change, you have to embrace change.
What does he think about the Warner Bros. acquisition by Paramount, which so outrages Mark Ruffalo? “I stand with Mark Ruffalo regardless—he’s a good person, I believe in free speech even when I disagree entirely.” The issue is that no one yet knows exactly how this massive merger will operate, so it’s natural to fear the inevitable layoffs. Speaking of layoffs, he naturally touches on the topic of AI, warning that the first to go could be those who work on visual effects, but not only: “I don’t want to end up in a dead-man’s advertisement. I occasionally watch videos where I appear saying things I never uttered.” And he looks beyond cinema: “I wonder what would happen if a not-too-bright leader saw a deepfake of Putin announcing a nuclear strike? We must learn to discern, even if we end up believing that some false things could be entirely true. Unfortunately telling people don’t believe what you see is much harder than telling them don’t believe what you read.”
George Clooney and the Cachistocrazia politics
“Cachistocrazia” is a term that denotes the “rule of the worst,” the people least qualified and least suited to hold office. Having committed a substantial part of his life to political engagement and philanthropy, now as important as his film career, Clooney does not back down when judging the United States today: “I remain optimistic; we’re in a tough period, but I believe we’ll get through it. In 1968 there was plenty of violence in America, and this is another one of those difficult moments. I read about this term that captures it well, ‘cachistocrazia’. We all hope for a return to normalcy. It seems cruelty has become part of the entertainment; decency has lost its sense, but I hope we’ll come out of it better.” He notes that there are reasons for concern: he and his wife, both children of journalists, worry about the profession—which was at the heart of Good Night and Good Luck. “Journalism is at risk; in the USA the wealthiest people own the information. But there is always room for good journalism. Our foundation also protects journalists persecuted by regimes. Information will endure.” And the climate? “This summer in Como, where he spends much of the year, was terrible—there were fires. Right now, most of the people who run the world have decided that climate change is a hoax. […] Let’s consider, even if it is truly nonsense: what is there to lose by creating jobs in the green economy? What’s wrong with dreaming of breathing cleaner air?”
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