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PLEASANTVILLE.(actor Peter Dinklage)(Interview)

The New Yorker

| September 29, 2003 | Paumgarten, Nick | COPYRIGHT 2003 All rights reserved. Reproduced by permission of The Condé Nast Publications Inc. This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group. (Hide copyright information)Copyright

Usually, Peter Dinklage plays ghoulish or zany character roles, in dream sequences or crime capers; he's four feet five inches tall--a dwarf. But in "The Station Agent," which opens next week, he gets to be the leading man, a downhearted train buff named Fin who inherits an abandoned railway depot in a New Jersey town and, through various contrivances, comes to find fellowship, if not love, exactly, among a couple of lonesome regular-height strangers. Last winter at the Sundance Film Festival, "The Station Agent," which was made for less than a million dollars, won the audience and screenwriting awards and was bought by Miramax. Now there is talk of Dinklage becoming a star, though it is unclear if this is because he is a curiosity or because he is good.

Part of being a leading man in such a picture is being driven and flown all over the place, to festivals and screenings and parties, in the pursuit of what is known as word-of-mouth, and so one night last week Dinklage found himself in the back seat of a Town Car, hurtling up the F.D.R. Drive, en route to Pleasantville, in Westchester County. He was scheduled to do a Q.&A. session immediately following a screening of the film at the Jacob Burns Film Center, a renovated old theatre that has become a tristate-area staging ground for independent films.

Dinklage was wearing his seat belt; his feet dangled above the floor. He is thirty-four and has tousled brown hair and is known to his friends as Dink, or the Dink, which he doesn't seem to mind. "Yesterday, I was in Atlanta," he said. "They had me in a hotel room doing interviews. Tomorrow, I fly to Paris, and the next day to Spain, for the San Sebastian film festival. Then Aspen, and then Rio de Janeiro, some film-festival thing. There are actors who do this for movies they hate. Must be rough."

First, though, there had to be Mamaroneck, which does not have a film festival and is not really on the way to Pleasantville. "Is O.K. if you are fifteen-twenty minutes late?" the driver, Renado, asked. ...

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