The Role Kevin Costner Says Was His Destiny: “I Didn’t Choose It, It Chose Me”

Whether you see it as confidence or self-importance, Kevin Costner has always carried himself with a certain gravitas—and it hasn’t always worked in his favor.

He rose to fame in the 1980s thanks to a combination of looks, charisma, and a knack for picking crowd-pleasing roles in films that played to his strengths. Movies like Fandango, Silverado, The Untouchables, No Way Out, Bull Durham, and Field of Dreams helped establish him as one of Hollywood’s most bankable stars.

But after Dances with Wolves, something shifted. Costner began to take himself—and his projects—a lot more seriously. That self-seriousness arguably marked a turning point in his career. While he still appeared in big hits like Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, The Bodyguard, and A Perfect World, a new, more solemn version of Costner started to emerge—one that critics and audiences didn’t always embrace.

Films like Wyatt Earp, Waterworld, and The Postman came off less like artistic expressions and more like personal crusades. There’s nothing wrong with passion, but these projects often felt overly ambitious, bloated, and indulgent—struggling to justify their massive budgets or connect with viewers in the way his earlier work had.

The Postman, in particular, was a major setback—critically panned and a box office flop that lingered like a shadow over his career. Even during his attempted comeback in the 2000s and early 2010s with well-regarded titles like Open Range and the Emmy-winning miniseries Hatfields & McCoys, Costner couldn’t entirely shed that air of solemnity.

A good example is his 2014 drama Black or White, in which he plays a widower fighting for custody of his granddaughter. When asked why he took on the role of Elliot Anderson, Costner didn’t offer the typical actor’s response. Instead, he said, “I didn’t choose it; it chose me. It’s the same thing as a good book. I heard the words, and they spoke to me.”

It’s a poetic take—but maybe a bit over the top. After all, the script didn’t exactly walk up to his door and start reciting lines like something out of a Disney cartoon.

In true Costner fashion, when no studio would back Black or White, he financed the project himself. That move certainly speaks to his commitment—and perhaps his sense of destiny—but it also continued a pattern of putting his own money behind films others weren’t willing to bet on.