William H. Macy & John O’Leary Break Down ‘Soul on Fire’, Jack Buck’s Signed Baseball & the Power of a Thank You Note
…In my business we say the audience is never wrong. They’re never wrong. They’re smarter than we are the best day we were born. You have to listen to the audience. If they don’t understand it’s because it’s not clear. If they don’t laugh it’s because it’s not funny. If they don’t like the film it’s because it’s not interesting to them. The split goes right down the middle. It seems to me that whichever side you’re on, you could take a lesson from the actors. The public, the people, are never wrong. We should find out what the people we don’t agree with think. And the only way to do it is to ask them and to shut up while they’re answering. And listen…
I had the pleasure of talking with John O’Leary and William H. Macy, an unlikely duo brought together by a story that, by all accounts, should have ended in 1987. Sitting down with them feels less like a typical Hollywood press junket and more like a collision of two very different worlds: the gritty, high-stakes reality of a burn survivor and the seasoned, storied craft of one of cinema’s most distinct character actors.
The occasion is the release of Soul on Fire, the 2025 film adaptation of O’Leary’s memoir. The movie chronicles a survival story that borders on the impossible. In 1987, a nine-year-old O’Leary was playing with gasoline in his St. Louis garage. The fumes ignited, resulting in an explosion that burned 100 percent of his body. Doctors gave him less than a one percent chance of living through the night. He lost his fingers, spent months in the hospital, and endured dozens of surgeries. Yet, nearly four decades later, he isn’t just alive; he is sitting beside the man who plays one of the pivotal figures in his recovery.
“None of this should have happened,” O’Leary admits, shaking his head at the absurdity of the moment. “I should not be visiting with you. I should not be partying right now with William H. Macy in my hometown of Saint Louis.”
For O’Leary, the existence of the film itself is a shock to the system. “Films don’t get made easily and films about true stories of kids getting burned on 100 percent of their body with a death sentence never get made,” he says. He views the production not as a career milestone, but as “evidence of unbelievable good luck, great grace, and miracles.”
William H. Macy, an actor who made a career out of humanizing the desperate and the downtrodden in films like Fargo and series like Shameless, steps into the shoes of Jack Buck. Buck was the legendary St. Louis Cardinals sportscaster who, in real life, visited O’Leary’s hospital bedside daily, despite having no prior connection to the family.
For Macy, the project wasn’t about logging heavy screen time — he notes he “wasn’t there that long” — but about capturing the quiet, forceful empathy of a local icon. Macy points to a specific moment in the story that highlights Buck’s unique brand of tough love. In the film, Buck sends the injured boy a baseball signed by a favorite player, with a stipulation: “If you want another one, write a thank you note.”
“It’s true. It actually happened,” Macy says, admiring the strategy. “It shows how cagey and how sweet and how knowing Jack Buck was. That’s the way to get him writing again.” It was a subtle push that forced O’Leary to relearn motor skills he had lost, driven by the motivation of a baseball rather than the drudgery of physical therapy.
The dynamic between the actor and the subject reveals the film’s central thesis: heroes usually don’t look like they do in comic books. O’Leary is quick to dismantle the idea of the caped crusader. “A lot of folks walk around wearing Superman jerseys and Batman capes… pretending to be heroes who can soar around and fight the villains,” O’Leary says. Instead, Soul on Fire focuses on “a movement of very ordinary, average people who saw something that was broken and figured out a way to redeem it.”
While Macy plays the famous sportscaster, O’Leary insists the real saviors were the people in the background: a janitor, a nurse, his parents who refused to let him wallow in self-pity, and a nineteen-year-old girl named Beth who grabbed his scarred hand and never let go. “If we’re seeking to spark a movement, why not spark a movement of good, of serving people in front of you,” O’Leary muses.
Macy, reflecting on the current state of the world, echoes the sentiment. He sees the film as a nod to the invisible workforce that keeps society running. “The people who work in hospitals, the cops, the firemen, all these people who go to work every day and make our lives so much better… maybe the movement would be to stop and thank them every once in a while.”
The conversation inevitably turns to the fractured state of the country. It is a heavy topic, but both men approach it with a pragmatism that feels rare in modern discourse. O’Leary recalls his grandfather’s reaction to the election of Bill Clinton years ago. Despite disliking the new president, his grandfather didn’t retreat into anger. “He went to work,” O’Leary says. “Quit waiting for the White House to save you and start worrying about your house.”
Macy, drawing on decades of theater and film experience, offers a perspective that only an actor could provide. “In my business we say the audience is never wrong,” he explains. If the audience isn’t laughing, it’s not their fault; the joke isn’t funny. He suggests that this logic applies to the political divide. “We should find out what the people we don’t agree with think. And the only way to do it is to ask them and to shut up while they’re answering. And listen.”
It is a simple, unglamorous solution, much like the recovery O’Leary faced years ago. There is no magic fix, just the hard work of showing up, listening, and enduring. As the interview winds down, the connection between the Hollywood veteran and the miracle survivor makes sense. They are both storytellers, one by trade and one by necessity, both trying to explain how we survive the fires we are thrown into.
Yitzi: It’s such a delight and an honor to meet you both. I’ve been hearing amazing things about this film. John, can you share a story that stands out from the process of making this, from the set, from the whole process of making the film?
John O’Leary: None of this should have happened. I should not be visiting with you Yitzi. I should not be partying right now with William H. Macy in my hometown of Saint Louis. Every bit of this film production is nothing short of miraculous. Films don’t get made easily and films about true stories of kids getting burned on 100 percent of their body with a death sentence never get made. The fact that we’re here doing this conversation is evidence of unbelievable good luck, great grace, and miracles. As far as a scene from the film that stands out, there’s a scene between John O’Leary and his hero Jack Buck near the end of the film, where John doesn’t understand all the goodness showing up in his life. He asks his hero, I’m seated next to the man who portrayed him in the film right now, “Why were you so good to me? Why all the things?” It’s something I still struggle with today. Why are so many people so good to me? That scene captured not only Jack Buck’s love but so many other people’s love of me so brilliantly. I haven’t earned it, but I needed it. And in them providing it, it changed my life and remarkably it changed their life too.
William H. Macy: Isn’t that the line? “Why me?” And Jack Buck says, “You looked like you needed help.”
Yitzi: William, is there a story that most stands out from the making of this film?
William H. Macy: For me? I wasn’t there that long. I’ve got a bunch of scenes, but that scene was really good. I wasn’t in the scene, but I thought when Jack Buck sent him a baseball signed by his favorite baseball player and said, “If you want another one, write a thank you note,” it was great writing. It’s true. It actually happened, and I loved your mom for that, her whole attitude. It shows how cagey and how sweet and how knowing Jack Buck was. That’s the way to get him writing again.
Yitzi: It’s amazing. If a movement would be sparked by this film, what would that movement, what do you hope the movement would be, John?
John O’Leary: A lot of folks walk around wearing Superman jerseys and Batman capes and Wonder Woman tights, pretending to be heroes who can soar around and fight the villains. What William H. Macy and a host of other incredible actors have portrayed and brought to life is a movement of very ordinary, average people who saw something that was broken and figured out a way to redeem it. Bill happens to play the biggest name in the film, a guy named Jack Buck. He’s in the Baseball Hall of Fame among ten other Hall of Fames. This is a celebrity and a man’s man, almost impossible to imitate. And yet, Jack Buck might not be the real hero of the film. It could be a dad, it could have been my mom, it could have been a nurse or a janitor, it might be my college roommate, it could be a 19-year-old girl named Beth who is gorgeous, and when I stuck out my broken right hand, she grabbed it and never looked down. If we’re seeking to spark a movement, why not spark a movement of good, of serving people in front of you, regardless of what you were born into or what your struggles might be.
William H. Macy: Good answer.
Yitzi: Brilliant. William, what would you say? What movement do you hope could be triggered by this film?
William H. Macy: There are a lot of really good people in this country and on this planet. Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the men and women who get up every day, go to work, and they’re not hailed as heroes, but they do heroic things. The people who work in hospitals, the cops, the firemen, all these people who go to work every day and make our lives so much better, and they’re just doing their jobs. Maybe the movement would be to stop and thank them every once in a while.
Yitzi: On a related note, as you know the United States is going through a bit of a stratification right now. Based on what the film portrays, how do you hope we could put the “United” back in the United States, John?
John O’Leary: Quite a few years ago when my grandfather was alive, there was a president who was elected in. It was a guy he did not like at all. I remember grandpa stands up, he turns off the TV, and he says, “I didn’t vote for this son of a B, but he’s my president now and I hope he does well.” What my grandpa did not do is turn on MSNBC or Fox Next. What he did is he went to work. He brought home an opportunity for his wife and his children and his grandchildren, and he served and loved the one in front of him. It seems like now we lead with political affiliation. If you’re not with us, then it means you’re clearly against us. This film celebrates not political affiliation. Doesn’t mean it’s not important. It just means, now do your job. Quit waiting for the White House to save you and start worrying about your house. It will change your life and it will change our nation. If you’re trying to unify the nation, stop watching other people tell you how bad it is and start loving your neighbor.
Yitzi: William, what would you say? How could we put the “United” back into the United States?
William H. Macy: That was a good answer. I’ll tag onto that one. Was it Roosevelt that your father was so angry about?
John O’Leary: If you want, I’ll give it. It was Clinton. He didn’t vote for Clinton, but anyways, it was Clinton. It was years ago.
William H. Macy: Yeah, it’s a wacky idea but maybe, okay, I’ll tell you something. In my business we say the audience is never wrong. They’re never wrong. They’re smarter than we are the best day we were born. You have to listen to the audience. If they don’t understand it’s because it’s not clear. If they don’t laugh it’s because it’s not funny. If they don’t like the film it’s because it’s not interesting to them. The split goes right down the middle. It seems to me that whichever side you’re on, you could take a lesson from the actors. The public, the people, are never wrong. We should find out what the people we don’t agree with think. And the only way to do it is to ask them and to shut up while they’re answering. And listen.
Yitzi: Brilliant. Thank you so much for your time. I wish you continued success and good health and I hope we can do this again.
John O’Leary: Yitzi, thank you.
William H. Macy: Thank you.
William H Macy & John O’Leary Break Down ‘Soul on Fire’, Jack Buck’s Signed Baseball & the Power of was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.