December 6, 2022

Arliss Howard Biography, Age, Debra Winger, Movies, Height

Arliss Howard Biography

Arliss Howard born as Leslie Richard Howard is an American actor, director, and screenwriter, known for his roles as ‘Peter Ludlow in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, (1997) and as ‘Richard DeTamble’ in ‘The Time Traveler’s Wife ‘(2009). Natural Born Killers, Full Metal Jacket, (1987), and Ruby.

Arliss Howard Age

He was born on October 18, 1954 in Independence, Missouri U.S. He is 64 years old as at 2018.

Arliss Howard Height

The American actor stands at a height of 1.75 m.

Arliss Howard Photo

Arliss Howard Photo

Arliss Howard Family

We have no records of his parents and siblings.

Arliss Howard Wife | Debra Winger

He married actress Debra Winger on November 28, 1996. They have a son together. Previously, he was married to Karen Mary Sellars on February 28, 1986.

Arliss Howard Children

He has two sons; Sam Howard born in 1987 from his first marriage and Gideon Howard nicknamed Babe born in 1997 from his second marriage.

Arliss Howard Career

Howard set up his career with stand-out roles in Natural Born Killers, Full Metal Jacket, and Ruby. He portrayed author and attorney Vincent Bugliosi in Till Death Us Do Part (1992), who led the prosecution in the Tate-LaBianca murder trial.

In 1997, he co-starred as Hammond’s conniving nephew Peter Ludlow, a greedy and manipulative businessman, in the sequel to Jurassic Park, The Lost World: Jurassic Park.

He has played a recurring role in the CBS weekly drama series Medium and has directed several episodes. He also starred in and directed the films Big Bad Love and Dawn Anna, both co-written with his brother James Howard. His wife, Debra Winger, starred in both movies.

In 2010 he played Kale Ingram, a benign duplicate supervisor at an American intelligence agency, in the Rubicon cerebral TV series, which was canceled after 13 episodes by AMC. Howard appeared in the Moneyball feature in 2011.

He has extensive stage credits, including a role on Broadway in the 2009 revival of August Wilson’s Joe Turner’s Come and Gone. He has appeared with his wife, Debra Winger, and Bertolt Brecht’s In the Jungle of the Cities, directed by Robert Woodruff in several productions at the American Repertory Theater (ART) in Cambridge, Massachusetts, including Paula Vogel’s How I Learned to Drive.

He was also seen as Mikhail Lvovich Astrov in Anton Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, and Nikolai Ivanov in Chekhov’s Ivanov, with Winger playing Anna’s role.

Arliss Howard Movies






AfterMASH (TV)

Danny Madden


The Day After

Tom Cooper


The Lightship



Hands of a Stranger

Felix Lyttle


Full Metal Jacket

Pvt. Cowboy


Tequila Sunrise

Gregg Lindroff


Plain Clothes

Nick Dunbar


I Know My First Name Is Steven (TV)

Kenneth Parnell


Men Don’t Leave

Charles Simon


Somebody Has to Shoot the Picture

Raymond Eames


For the Boys

Dixie’s husband Sgt. Michael Leonard


Till Death Us Do Part

Vincent Bugliosi








Those Secrets



Wilder Napalm

Wilder Foudroyant


The Sandlot

Older Scotty Smalls


Natural Born Killers

Owen Traft, Mickey & Mallory’s Guardian Angel/The Demon


To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar



The Infiltrator




Bruce Lomann



John Cardoza


The Man Who Captured Eichmann

Peter Malkin


Beyond the Call

Keith O’Brien


Tales of Erotica

Bruce Lomann



John C. Calhoun


The Lost World: Jurassic Park

Peter Ludlow


Old Man

J.J. Taylor


The Lesser Evil

Ivan Williams


A Map of the World

Paul Reverdy


You Know My Name



Big Bad Love



The Song of the Lark

Dr. Howard Archie


Word of Honor

J.D. Runnells



Luke Mullich





Dawn Anna



Captain Kenneth Push



Mikey’s Uncle



Dr. Jonathan Neyer


The Time Traveler’s Wife

Richard DeTamble



Kale Ingram



John Henry


True Blood

Truman Burrell



Dr. Joseph Maroon


When We Rise

Theodore Olson


The Boy Downstairs

Diana’s Father

Arliss Howard Net Worth

The American actor has an estimated net worth of $10 million .

Arliss Howard True Blood

He played the role of Truman Burrell in 2013’s True Blood.

Arliss Howard Interview

Arliss Howard Interview


CHRIS NEUMER: Hi, Arliss!  It’s a pleasure to speak with you. I want to let you know that I really enjoyed this film. I compared it to one of Robert Altman’s good films as opposed to Pret-a-Porter or Short Cuts.

ARLISS HOWARD: I hear the new one is really great. Gosford Park.

CHRIS NEUMER: I just asked your wife [Debra Winger] this, but how did you originally get involved with Big Bad Love and Larry Brown’s short stories?

ARLISS HOWARD: It was 1990 or right around in there. I got sent them just to read because whoever sent them to me knew that I read pretty voraciously. I enjoyed them and I had just finished them and I was in Nebraska, I was crossing out of Nebraska, and I was listening to a public radio station and I heard this amazing piece of music–it was so amazing that I waited for the call letters of the station and pulled over and called the radio station. It was Arlo Burns playing Deathville Blues. I had never heard of that. They somehow synced up for me, the stories and the music, I’m not sure why. I somehow saw them, the collection, as a movie. Some people had been talking to me about making a movie at that time. My brother and I started working and we got a script together pretty quickly and then one thing led to another and I was off working on another project and got busy. 10 years passed and the guy came to me in the winter of 2000 and said, “You know you ought to direct something and I want to help you.”

CHRIS NEUMER: That guy was…

ARLISS HOWARD: Some money guy, I can’t remember.

CHRIS NEUMER: So you’d been sitting on the script for 10 years?

ARLISS HOWARD: I’d refer back to it from time to time and I’d talked to Larry over the years. I’d let the option lapse. You don’t know a thing at the time; you only know it in retrospect, looking back. At the time, nothing makes sense to me. This particular day isn’t going to make sense for five years. But when I look back, I see that what I was doing was getting ready on some level for the task and the story needed to just perk. As it exists even in its present state it’s greatest strength isn’t a narrative style, there aren’t a whole lot of events happening, but I was able to flesh out a kind of skeletal structure over the years, using the other stories and characters from the other stories.

CHRIS NEUMER: I must admit, this film did get me to go out and read Larry Brown’s short stories. Every time I came across a really interesting character who wasn’t in the film, I’d always ask, “Why wasn’t this character in the movie?” My favorite was the guy who’s wife wrote incredibly bad fiction. In that story, when his wife wrote “The Hunchwoman from Cincinnati”, there was a sentence something like, “and the manuscript set a new record for being returned” and I just burst out laughing. Brown’s style of writing is very unique. It just sort of goes and goes, a chain of thought kind of thing.

ARLISS HOWARD: Yeah. That particular collection is dealing with the same guy in various guises. He’s not always a writer, but he’s always a man whose longing after a woman who’s just left or trying to get rid of a woman or somehow stuck with a woman or a job, or wanting to get out of one. The character of Barlow exists throughout.

CHRIS NEUMER: Like an unnamed narrator throughout. Women? Why is it that they cause so many problems for Larry Brown’s characters?

ARLISS HOWARD: I think it’s really interesting. There aren’t a whole lot of women who read the stories and go, “Wow, what a great writer.” Then you get down south and there is more recognition because there’s not as big a guard up. There’s more of a sense of humor about these things. This particular kind of living that involves sexual battles and alcohol. In my experience, a woman doesn’t cause you a problem unless she wants something from it. And the minute that you want something and she knows that you do, she either gives it to you or withholds it. Then desperation comes in because you want it more and more, especially as it’s withheld. I think the gamesmanship is learned as you grow up about these things. It becomes sort of a drama of everyday living. Certainly in these particular stories you have these people who have real and imagined problems based on those kinds of sexual discontents. I said to Larry once, “You know, Larry, not all the women of the world are blonde and buxom and want to mow you down.” And he said, “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be something if they were?” And I think in his world, he’s sort of decided–and not in all his work, especially in his novels–to label Larry anything based on his collection would be to do that thing that people tend to want to do which is: I don’t understand, so I’ll make this as small as I can. If you look at some of his other work like Father and son and Joe, I think you’ll see much more of a developed sense of story.

CHRIS NEUMER: Yeah, he has the space to get into more detail.

ARLISS HOWARD: There is truth in these things. These are not like made up whole cloth and they aren’t stereotypically positioned. There is truth in them: the basic conflict between men and women and sometimes I think you get educated. If you want to sit around and have a couple of glasses of trendy white wine and talk about things like this, the discussion inevitably shies away from getting right to it. You’d much rather be in a place where you get down right to it.

CHRIS NEUMER: It seems like a more literate take on a film involving Ashley Judd. It strips away all the sappiness and gets down to the core of the matter.

ARLISS HOWARD: There isn’t really a place for sappiness in the South. There’s no real place for it to grow.

CHRIS NEUMER: That’s a commendable trait.

ARLISS HOWARD: Whatever drama is invented down there is more Gothic than sappy. There’s too much to be afraid of for certain sentiment to live too long. I just believe in terms of film and in terms of people going down and writing about the south, for the most part it’s not very faithfully rendered. I’m not sure why that is.

CHRIS NEUMER: Because it’s easier not to be faithful, maybe? You’d written the script with your brother, I’m just trying to get a time frame on this, was the majority of the script written back in the early ‘90’s?

ARLISS HOWARD: It’s hard to say because I’d have to go back and look at the first draft of it and then go and look at the shooting script and then the script that was taken from the completed film because there are going to be huge differences between all of them. He was down there with me writing all along. Not only were we writing the night before stuff we were going to shoot, but I would be writing while we were shooting and unwriting.

CHRIS NEUMER: So this wasn’t a project where the script was written at such and such a date and stuck to that.

ARLISS HOWARD: We were always writing, writing. It would be inaccurate to suggest that we didn’t arrive down there with a fairly rigid structure because the economics of the thing and the logistics of the thing mandate that you know where you’re going to be and when. You don’t show up at someone’s house in Holly Springs, Mississippi and say, “We were supposed to be here Monday and now it’s Wednesday, but we’re here.” We knew what we were going to shoot and we knew when we were going to shoot it. We were very structured that way. But in terms of what went on inside it…

CHRIS NEUMER: You could toy with that a little.

ARLISS HOWARD: Yeah. I think the stronger the structure is the more you can mess around. The more you’re sure of what you’re trying to say and what its place is in the film. Again, you have this other thing that happens when you get the film back in New York and you start working on it. You’re hacking along one day and you chop right into a nest of hornets. It just busts up in your face and that changes the whole thing. I would say that the essential writing of it was done in 1990 and when we picked it up again in January of 2000 we started in earnest, weeding it out, trying to make it essential.

CHRIS NEUMER: There were a lot of visual images that you had in the film–my favorite was the flag through the rejection letters–having read Brown’s stories, imagery wasn’t his strong suit. Where did these images come from?

ARLISS HOWARD: One of the great things about Larry is like all great fiction, what is left out is as important as what you’ve got in there. The fact that, in particular, the story “92 Days” where the bulk of the narrative was taken for Big Bad Love, you have this guy who alludes to the fact that he was in the service. It was just alluded to. It wasn’t specifically mentioned. You just feel the fact that he was a veteran. You just feel certain things about the people in his life. You know that there’s a university nearby, but you’re not sure what it is or where it is or why this guy is showing up at his house with these poems. You just have this sense that something’s out there, but you’re not sure what it is. As I began to put some of the other stories in, “Waiting for the Ladies”, I started really feeling this sense of his military past. And that’s not too far from there to think you have this culture in the south which is locked, in many ways, in time warps. Economically, socially. A lot of that has to do with an economy based on certain socio-economic structure that was rendered impotent by the Civil War.

CHRIS NEUMER: Anything specifically?

ARLISS HOWARD: It would have been impossible to build the cotton empires and the economy built there on without slave labor. Once that was taken away, you had this collapse. Plus, the war had removed many of the heirs from these large fortunes. It had taken away the male sons. It had decimated the way things were passed down to a great degree. Except for those nimble few who were able to move quickly and laterally, you had this empire that crumbled or was parceled out.
With the advent of the Industrial Revolution in America after that we had more mechanized, urban society, you had this area of the country that was immediately behind the times. In some ways in the South, you still have people who want to hold onto this flag for example. And this becomes so important for them to hold onto the stars and bars when it essentially has no meaning. There are still heated battles going on because of it. You have pockets in the South where the socio-economic climate hasn’t changed a lick except to add a welfare state. And the way people talk and deal with each other and the tender balance between races. You have this kind of thing that lends itself to looking back–it’s not forward looking.
All I mean to say is that it was easy for me to think of Barlow as having–it’s not part of the book–but coming from a tradition of soldiers, going all the way back to the Civil War and beyond. Once I had that notion of being from soldiers, it became–because you’re talking about defeated soldiers, both in the Civil War and Vietnam–so you’re talking about the way things are passed on. If Leon was a southern soldier, where might he have come from. It was just a short little hop from there to have him trying to write fiction. And what was fiction and what was fantasy and what was reality? It all became part of the same notion. The other part of that throwing the flag and having it stick in the wall was that I was trying to find some way to imagine what it looked like in his mind while he was writing, without actually cutting to him writing that, having inserts of typewriters, because the act of writing itself isn’t particularly cinematic.