Rob Reiner was a movie director who began as an actor who wanted to direct movies. The bridge between these careers was “This Is Spinal Tap” in 1984, his first proper film, in which he also acted. His original inclination, based on the music documentaries he had studied, had been not to appear onscreen, but he decided there was practical value in greeting the audience with a face familiar from eight seasons of “All in the Family” as Archie Bunker’s left-wing son-in-law, Michael “Meathead” Stivic.

Reiner’s television career began at 21, partnered with Steve Martin, writing for “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour.” As an actor, his early years were characterized by the small parts and guest shots that describe the early career of many performers we come to know well. He played multiple characters on episodes of “That Girl” and “Gomer Pyle, USMC,” a delivery boy on “Batman,” and appeared on “The Andy Griffith Show” and “Room 222.” His last such role, in 1971, the same year “All in the Family” premiered, was on “The Partridge Family” as a tender-hearted, poetry-writing, tattooed biker who becomes attached to Susan Dey‘s character and somewhat improbably takes her to a school dance. It’s a performance that prefigures the tenderness and humanity that would become a signature of his work as a writer, director and performer — and, seemingly, a person.

On “All in the Family,” in his jeans and work shirt, with a drooping mustache that seemed to accentuate a note of sadness, Reiner largely played the straight man, an irritant to Carroll O’Connor’s Archie Bunker, teeing up the issue-oriented dialectic. Once in a while he’d be given a broad comic meal to chew, as when wife Gloria (Sally Struthers) goes into labor while they’re out for dinner, and he accelerates into classic expectant-father sitcom panic. But minus the “Meathead” material, “All in the Family” is as much a social drama as it is a comedy, with Mike and Gloria struggling with money, living with her parents, new parenthood, and a relationship that blows hot and cold until it finally blows out for good. He’s not a Comic Creation, like Archie or Edith with their malaprops and mispronunciations, or even Gloria, but his importance to the storytelling was certified by two supporting actor Emmys.

What Reiner carried from “Family” into his later appearances was a sort of bigness. He could seem loud — and loudness is something Norman Lear’s shows reveled in — even when he’s speaking quietly. Physically he occupied a lot of space, more as time went on, and beginning perhaps with “Spinal Tap,” in which he played director Marty DiBergi, he transformed tonally into a sort of gentle Jewish Buddha. In the 2020 miniseries “Hollywood,” Ryan Murphy’s alternate history of the 1930s picture business, the studio head he plays is not the desk-banger of cliche, but he is a man with an appetite. (“Get me some brisket and some of those cheesy potatoes and a lemon meringue pie,” he tells a commissary waiter — against doctor’s orders, having just emerged from a heart attack-induced coma. “One meal’s not going to kill me.”) He’s the boss, but, in a scene as lovely as it is historically unlikely, he allows his wife (Patti LuPone), who has been running things during his absence, to also be the boss.

Reiner left “All in the Family” in 1978, after its eighth season to explore life outside Michael Stivic. (In 1976, while still starring on “Family,” he tested those waters, appearing on an episode of “The Rockford Files” as a narcissistic third-rate football player.) “Free Country,” which he co-created with frequent writing partner Phil Mishkin, about a family of Lithuanian immigrants in the early 1900s, aired five episodes that summer. The same year, ABC broadcast the Reiner-Mishkin-penned TV movie “More Than Friends” (available on Apple TV) in which Reiner co-starred with then-wife Penny Marshall. Directed by James Burrows, whose dance card would fill up with “Taxi,” “Cheers” and “3rd Rock From the Sun,” it’s in some respects a dry run for Reiner’s “When Harry Met Sally…,” tracking a not-quite-romantic but ultimately destined relationship across time.

Future Spinal Tap lead singer Michael McKean appears there as a protest singer, while the 1982 CBS TV movie “Million Dollar Infield,” written again with Mishkin, features Reiner alongside future Spinal Tap lead guitarist Christopher Guest and bassist Harry Shearer; it’s a story of baseball, families and therapy. Co-star Bruno Kirby the year before had co-written and starred in Reiner’s directorial debut, “Tommy Rispoli: A Man and His Music,” a short film that aired on the long-gone subscription service On TV as part of the “Likely Stories” anthology. Kirby’s character, a Frank Sinatra-loving limo driver (driving Reiner as himself), found its way into “This Is Spinal Tap,” though here he is the center of a Reineresque love story.

After “Spinal Tap,” as Reiner’s directing career went from strength to strength, he continued to act in other people’s pictures (“Sleepless in Seattle,” “Primary Colors,” “Bullets Over Broadway” and “The Wolf of Wall Street,” to name but a few) and some of his his own, up to this year’s “Spinal Tap II: The End Continues.” On television, he mostly played himself, which is to say versions of himself, on shows including “It’s Garry Shandling’s Show,” “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and, of all things, “Hannah Montana,” with a few notable exceptions.

Rob Reiner and Jamie Lee Curtis play the divorced parents of Jess (Zooey Deschanel) in Fox’s “New Girl.”

(Ray Mickshaw / Fox)

The most notable of these, to my mind, is “New Girl,” in which Reiner appeared in 10 episodes threaded through five of the series’ seven seasons, as Bob Day, the father of Zooey Deschanel’s Jess. Jamie Lee Curtis, married to Guest in the real world, played his ex-wife, Joan, with Kaitlin Olson as his new, much younger partner, Ashley, who had been in high school with Jess. He’s positively delightful here, whether being overprotective of Deschanel or suffering her ministrations, dancing around Curtis, or fencing with Jake Johnson’s Nick. Improvisational rhythms characterize his performance, whether he’s sticking to the script or not. Most recently, he recurred in the fourth season of “The Bear,” which has also featured Curtis, mentoring sandwich genius Ebraheim (Edwin Lee Gibson); their scenes feel very much like what taking a meeting with Reiner might be like.

Coincidentally, I have had Reiner in my ear over the past couple of weeks, listening to the audiobook version of “A Fine Line: Between Stupid and Clever,” which he narrates with contributions from McKean, Shearer and Guest. A story of friendship and creativity and ridiculousness, all around a wonderful thing that grew bigger over the years, Reiner’s happy reading throws this tragedy into sharper relief. I have a DVD on the way, though I don’t know when I’ll be up to watching it. I only know I will.

Where is the dog?

You can call me one-track-minded or say that I focus on the wrong things, but do not include an element that I am then expected to forget. Especially if that “element” is an animal – and a dog, even.

In No More Time, we meet a couple, and it takes quite some time before we suddenly see that they have a dog with them. It appears in a scene suddenly, because their sweet little dog has a purpose: A “meet-cute” with a girl who wants to pet their dog.

After that, the dog is rarely in the movie or mentioned. Sure, we see it in the background once or twice, but when something strange (or noisy) happens, it’s never around. This completely ruins the illusion for me. Part of the brilliance of having an animal with you during an apocalyptic event is that it can help you.

And yet, in No More Time, this is never truly utilized. It feels like a strange afterthought for that one scene with the girl to work, but as a dog lover, I am now invested in the dog. Not unlike in I Am Legend or Darryl’s dog in The Walking Dead. As such, this completely ruined the overall experience for me.

If it were just me, I could (sort of) live with it. But there’s a reason why an entire website is named after people demanding to know whether the dog dies, before they’ll decide if they’ll watch a movie.

Scarlett Johansson wasn’t on the hunt for a feature film to direct when she was sent “Eleanor the Great,” about a 90-something woman who reminded Johansson of her own sparky grandmother. But Tory Kamen’s script arrived with a cover letter from Oscar nominee June Squibb.

“I was really interested in what, at this stage, June wanted to star in,” she says. “I was compelled to read it because of that.”

What Johansson also learned is that Squibb, star of last year’s acclaimed caper “Thelma” and the voice of Nostalgia in “Inside Out 2,” adds extra gloss to a project and is genre-adaptable. Since “Eleanor,” she’s wrapped shooting on an indie mockumentary called “The Making of Jesus Diabetes,” starring and produced by Bob Odenkirk. (“Bob and I know each other from ‘Nebraska,’” she says. “He asked and I did one scene.”) Currently, she’s in the play “Marjorie Prime,” her first appearance on Broadway since “Waitress” in 2018, when she stepped into the role of Old Joe, previously occupied by Al Roker. (“They made [the character] into a lady for me.”)

Recently, Johansson and Squibb got together via Zoom to discuss lurching process trailers, how Squibb bonded with co-star Erin Kellyman (who plays Nina, Eleanor’s college-age friend), and the trick to playing a character who tells a whopper at a Holocaust survivors’ support group based on her dead best friend’s experience.

What does a first-time director plan for Day One of a wintertime shoot in New York?

Johansson: The first thing we shot was [Eleanor and Nina] arriving at Coney Island. It wasn’t easy. We were outside. It was cold. It was a little hectic, but we figured it out. Then we had to do this thing in a car, and it was just miserable. Nobody wants to shoot a scene being towed in a car. There are all these stops and starts. You get nauseous. I felt terrible about that. But it was good for June and Erin.

Squibb: We had a lot of time that day together and we liked who each other was. It was just easy.

June, you believe in showing up fully prepped, on script. Did you and Scarlett talk a lot about Eleanor?

Squibb: I’m sure we talked over that first two weeks, but I think we started delving when we started shooting. I can’t say this enough, but her being the actress she is? It just helped me tremendously. I felt so relaxed, like she knew what I was doing.

A less charismatic actor might have trouble pulling off this character. Eleanor can be so impertinent, yet the audience still has to like her.

Johansson: The tightrope June walks is that she’s able to be salty, inconsiderate and rude as the Eleanor character, then balance it out with quiet moments where you see the guard slip. You see the vulnerability of [Eleanor]. June plays that so beautifully.

June, in 1953, you converted to Judaism. Scarlett, how important was it to have Eleanor played by a Jewish actress?

Johansson: It was definitely important to me, and it became important to the production too. We had tremendous support from the Jewish community. We brought the script to the Shoah Foundation and they helped us craft [Eleanor’s best friend] Bessie’s survivor story.

(The Tyler Times / For The Times)

Did they also help you find real-life Holocaust survivors — like Sami Steigmann —that you cast as support group members?

Johansson: It was a real group effort. Every time someone joined, it was a huge celebration. We got another one! At the time there were, like, 225,000 [survivors] worldwide. It gets less every year. I think only two of [the survivors in the group] knew each other previously. None of them had ever been on a film set before, and they were so patient with us.

Squibb: We just sort of passed the time of day. Sami, who was sitting next to me, and I chatted. It was all very relaxed. They were having a good time. They were interested in lunch. I remember that.

Johansson: I talked to everyone individually. Quite a lot of them are public speakers and share their stories. It’s amazing. You’re talking to people in their 90s about an experience they had when they were 7. Their stories are so vivid in their minds. Sami told June that sharing the story is part of the healing.

June, for a bat mitzvah scene you memorized a complicated Torah portion. How did it go?

Squibb: It wasn’t easy to learn. I didn’t do it overnight. But we were in a beautiful synagogue, and it was great to stand there and do it. I enjoyed it.

Talk about finding out that it didn’t make the final cut.

Squibb: I think the first thing I asked [Scarlett was], [sounding peeved] “Where did my Torah portion go?” [laughs]

Johannson: It was, like, “What the hell happened?” [laughs, then winces] I really struggled. But every way I cut it, it didn’t work so it just had to go. I was pretty nervous to show it [to June]. I said to Harry, my editor, “She worked so hard on it.”

How about that five-minute standing ovation when “Eleanor” has its world premiere at Cannes?

Squibb: It was just terribly exciting. We hugged each other a lot. And Erin was there, and she was in our hug too. I kept thinking, “We’re not even at a lovely theater in America. My God, this is an international audience here and they’re loving it.” And they did.