There are producers, and then there are producers. Harvey belongs to the latter batch. It’s an elite club for those with the kind of maverick vision to bring such disparate films as Pulp Fiction, Kids, Finding Neverland and umpteen others to the screen with equal aplomb.
Over the past 25 years, American independent film has seen no better advocate than this man from Flushing, N.Y. Now 60, he remains as relevant as ever, with The Artist following in the victorious footsteps of The English Patient and The King's Speech. More recently, Harvey lent vehement support to the documentary Bully, an important film in an age in which such a concept has almost been forgotten.
Now, no one gets to the top without the occasional scrap. While he’s certainly the charming servant to film he purports to be, Harvey isn’t afraid of a duke-‘em-out. (I’ve had the pleasure of being both his ally and his enemy at various times.) He stops at nothing for what he believes in.
He can be your most frightening nightmare and your closest friend.
He is a producer.
Depp is an award-winning actor