Bill Murray’s rise as a cultural legend is complete:
Alexei Dawes, a psychology student in Australia and a Bill Murray fan, thinks the essence of the man is too great to be captured on a T-shirt (or, for that matter, on a leather iPhone case embossed with his face, although Mr. Dawes carries one). For him, Bill Murray symbolizes nothing short of “humanity.”
It’s hard to know how much of the fanboy love is a projection of the film roles onto the man. But the Murray mythology is based, to some degree, on his off-screen antics.
The stories are legion: Bill Murray singing with the awe-struck patrons of a New York karaoke bar; Bill Murray appearing out of nowhere to join a kickball game; Bill Murray reading poetry to construction workers; Bill Murray entertaining a group of villagers in deepest Bali, who had no idea who he was, with an impromptu pantomime comedy performance; Bill Murray foregoing an agent and publicist in favor of an 800 number and a seldom-checked answering machine.
Two favorites of mine: