Whether it be due to fear, indifference or disaffection, it's notable how few of today's popular entertainers ever make a political stand. Award wins are taken as an opportunity to thank their manager and the studio/record company, those who've made them rich and will hopefully continue to do so. It seems the spirit of the Sixties, where art went hand-in-hand with revolution and artists believed they could use their talent and status to change the world for the better, is dying.

Yet in some quarters it's dying hard. Some artists still believe, still mouth off, still endanger their careers in the name of human decency. And surely close to the top of this hallowed league is Tim Robbins. Along with his partner, Susan Sarandon, he has purposefully made himself a thorn in the side of the right-wing Establishment, fighting for the liberal cause, both with unions and on his own. Beyond this, throughout his career he has cleverly worked the system, making big bucks from the studios and ploughing it back into his own worthy projects - mostly theatre projects, but also outstanding movies like Bob Roberts, Dead Man Walking and The Cradle Will Rock. These are

ng films with something to say, that challenge popular opinions and make audiences think. And they reveal Robbins to be not just a fine actor and director but also one of the most important figures in (and out of) Hollywood today.

Unsurprisingly, Robbins sprang from an artistic and wholly bohemian milieu. He was born Timothy Francis Robbins on the 16th of October, 1958, in West Covina, California, a town on the eastern edge of the Los Angeles/Pasadena conurbation. His parents, Gil (a musician and part-time actor) and Mary (a musician and later a publishing editor in the magazine industry) had met while both were studying music majors at UCLA and had married in 1952. Tim arrived as the youngest of four children, after Adele, David and Gabrielle.


At this point, Gil was enjoying some success in his musical career. Having played with the Robert de Cormier Singers and backed the hugely popular Harry Belafonte, he'd gone on to join The Cumberland Three, a group also featuring John Stewart, who'd later write Daydream Believer for The Monkees and, in the late Seventies, score a major hit of his own with Gold. At the time, a folk revival was underway, and most record labels were seeking their own version of prime movers The Kingston Trio. The Cumberland Three fitted the bill, in 1960 releasing two albums, The Civil War Almanacs, to some acclaim.

The momentum wouldn't last, though, with Stewart soon joining the aforementioned Kingston Trio. Noting that much of the new folk scene's action was taking place in New York, Gil upped sticks and took his young family across the States to the Big Apple, where he joined another renowned folk band, The Highwaymen. These guys were softcore traditionalists, far removed from the fiery politics of folk peers like Bob Dylan, Tom Rush and Phil Ochs, and thus doomed, but they had hit Number One with a version of Michael, Row The Boat Ashore and were still going strong. With Gil onboard they toughened their stance a little, covering the likes of Buffy St Marie's Universal Soldier.

For the Robbins kids, the move to New York brought exposure to a whole new world. The family lived in Greenwich Village, at 21 ½ King Street, just a few blocks from Washington Square, a hot-bed of political protest and performance art. Gil and Mary being Catholics, the kids all attended parochial school and were taught

s were seeking their own version of prime movers The Kingston Trio. The Cumberland Three fitted the bill, in 1960 releasing two albums, The Civil War Almanacs, to some acclaim.

The momentum wouldn't last, though, with Stewart soon joining the aforementioned Kingston Trio. Noting that much of the new folk scene's action was taking place in New York, Gil upped sticks and took his young family across the States to the Big Apple, where he joined another renowned folk band, The Highwaymen. These guys were softcore traditionalists, far removed from the fiery politics of folk peers like Bob Dylan, Tom Rush and Phil Ochs, and thus doomed, but they had hit Number One with a version of Michael, Row The Boat Ashore and were still going strong. With Gil onboard they toughened their stance a little, covering the likes of Buffy St Marie's Universal Soldier.

For the Robbins kids, the move to New York brought exposure to a whole new world. The family lived in Greenwich Village, at 21 ½ King Street, just a few blocks from Washington Square, a hot-bed of political protest and performance art. Gil and Mary being Catholics, the kids all attended parochial school and were taught by nuns. It's been said that young Tim's first stage performance was as an altar boy (Gil directed the congregational choir), but he was an unconventional altar boy. When it came to choosing a confirmation name, he picked Illya, after David McCallum's Illya Kuyakin in The Man From UNCLE. Sadly, the Vatican had yet to canonise the fictional Russian super-agent, and Tim's request was turned down.

Outside of school, life was far more bohemian. The King Street apartment was a 5th floor walk-up with one bedroom, Tim sleeping in a walk-in closet with his brother David. Gil and Mary would teach the kids music, guitar in particular, and there'd be the added bonus of famed folkies like Tom Paxton popping over for dinner. When Gil became manager of the Gaslight, one of New York's legendary folk clubs, the kids would hang out down there, mixing with the luminaries.

There was the occasional outside jaunt, too. In 1965, the Robbins's were hired by Eveready to play the Cordless family, a kind of living advert for their lead-free electric devices. Thus they spent two months on the road, renting a station wagon to drive to St Louis, Chicago, Philadelphia, Washington, all over the country, doing TV and radio interviews and demonstrating appliances for all and sundry. Tim's job was to operate a battery-operated piggy-bank with a moving arm. It was his first real taste of performing for the public.

Yet constant contact with such liberated and creative individuals did not turn young Tim into some boho wild child. Rather his father would describe him as "sober and pontifical", referring to his son as "Cardinal Robbins". Gil's former manager would call Tim "the oldest person in the world". This was surely partly due to Tim's active interior life. Learning to speak late, he had nevertheless developed his own language, his siblings translating for him. His fantasy world was very highly developed.

This would come in handy when, at age 10, he joined his sisters in the avant garde theatre troupe, the Theatre for the New City, in an off-Broadway production of How To Steal An Election (that George W. Bush was in the audience remains unconfirmed). He loved it, and from now on would immerse himself in stage work wherever possible, in school and out. By 14 he would be directing his own