Elliott Gould appeared for our interview at the Chabad House near UCLA, his venue of choice, wearing a baseball cap over his unruly salt-and-pepper locks, an open-necked shirt and glasses.
That's quite a change from the three-piece, pin-striped suit and neatly combed hair he sports as Rufus Van Aldin, the fabulously wealthy American oil magnate in Agatha Christie's thriller, "The Mystery of the Blue Train."
The episode, one in the British television series on the adventures of that canny Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot (David Suchet), will air Sunday, Feb. 12, on the Biography Channel at 9 p.m. and again at 1 a.m.
The 67-year-old actor obviously enjoyed the role and the locations in Nice and London.
"The British have always been very supportive of me," he said, a feeling that goes back to 1963, when he starred in the London production of the musical, "On the Town."
For the West End stage run, Gould brought along his new bride, the rising young singer Barbra Streisand, and he later spoke frankly of their relationship, which has since filled reams of tabloid columns.
Elliott Goldstein grew up in a two-and-a-half room apartment in a section of Brooklyn populated by Jews, Syrians and Italians, the only child of a garment industry production manager and his wife. Both parents were born in the United States, but his grandparents emigrated from Russia, the Ukraine and Poland.
Gould has total recall of his childhood, a mixed blessing, at best.
"My parents didn't know how to love each other, and that devastated me," he reminisced. "I've been in shock and denial of this most of my life, and as a boy, I was repressed, inhibited and very withdrawn."
On Passovers, the Goldstein family visited Uncle Louie, and young Elliott got to ask the Four Questions. The future actor found it "stressful to get it right. I was very sensitive and insecure."
In 1944, when Elliott was 6, his father was drafted into the Army, became a sharpshooter but broke his ankle just before he was to be shipped overseas. It was a lucky break, since most of his unit was wiped out in the Battle of the Bulge later that year.
Encouraged by his doting mother, Elliott auditioned for a "country-style" TV show, got a part and was told by the producer, "'From now on your name is Gould,' and I just accepted it."
His stage career accelerated at age 12, when he made his debut as a tap dancer at the Palace, and at the same time, he started studying for his bar mitzvah at a Hebrew school. "On my first test, I cheated and got a 100," he recalled.
At 18, he made it onto the Broadway stage in the chorus line of "Irma La Douce" and supplemented his meager earnings by selling vacuum cleaners, running a hotel elevator and working as a plumber's helper.
His first breakthrough came as the lead in "I Can Get It for You Wholesale," the same musical that first brought Streisand to public attention. The two young Jewish actors struck up a romance and married within the year.
The marriage proved difficult almost from the beginning. As his wife rocketed to superstardom, Gould, despite his promising performance in "Wholesale," had trouble advancing his career.
Snide columnists took delight in referring to Gould as "Mr. Streisand" and in chronicling his real and alleged frustrations, depressions, therapy sessions and nervous breakdowns. Even the birth of their son, Jason Gould, in 1966, couldn't reverse the downward trajectory of the couple's marriage, and they were divorced in 1971. Gould also has two children with Jennifer Bogart, whom he married twice, divorced once and from whom he is now separated.
It became obvious during our long interview that Gould's feelings about his marriage to Streisand are still acute and mixed. Again and again, he interrupted our conversation on other topics to break in with comments, such as:
"It is not true that I was traumatized because Barbra's career went up and mine didn't."
"Barbra and I will always be connected through our son, Jason, but we only communicate when necessary."
"Life is a challenging and painful journey. Barbra was part of it, and our love has not been destroyed."
"Barbra will always love me."
As his marriage gradually unraveled, Gould's professional fortunes took a sudden turn upward. The breakthrough came in his role as Ted in the 1969 movie, "Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice," about two sexually liberated but confused couples, which the '60s generation adopted as the iconic reflection of itself.
Gould, who was nominated for a best supporting actor Oscar for his performance, was at the time described by The New York Times as "Tall, curly-haired, more homely than handsome, laid back, unconventional, sensitive and unabashedly Jewish."
Over the following four years, Gould seemed to be everywhere on movie and television screens, and his photo graced the cover of Time magazine as "the star for an uptight age." He was especially popular among young adults, who identified closely with the often-neurotic anti-hero he depicted.
He scored again as Trapper John in Robert Altman's black comedy, "M*A*S*H," and as private eye Philip Marlowe in "The Long Goodbye."
Then, in the mid-70s, what had been the hottest property in Hollywood went cold. Gould continued to act in movies and television but mostly in forgettable productions and roles.
In the 1990s, he began to regain his reputation as a character actor through frequent appearances on the phenomenally successful TV series, "Friends," and in the past few years he has been lauded for his movie roles in "Ocean's Eleven" and "Ocean's Twelve."
He remains as unabashedly Jewish as ever, though in his own way.
"I feel connected by the branches of the Jewish family tree," he observed. "I belong every place where there is one of us.... Not only do I not deny my Judaism, but I am aware how unorthodox and unconventional I have been."
Although "conditioned to question everything, the concept of faith seems right to me, and I have found my faith," he added.
At 67, Gould considers himself "still a work in progress," but he seems to have found a measure of equilibrium in a life during which "I never had problems with drugs, but I've had problems with reality."
He lives in an apartment with a picture of Sigmund Freud on the wall and is re-reading the works of Saul Bellow and Bernard Malamud.
"I have nothing more to prove," he said in concluding our interview. "I now look on myself as a happy and healthy grandfather."