|
INTERVIEW
By
David Furnish
1997
In
the fickle world of entertainment, Debbie Reynolds is a
survivor. The quintessential girl next door, she sang, danced,
and acted her way through such films as Singin' in the Rain
(1952) and Tammy and the Bachelor (1957) until Hollywood
tired of her clean looks and naive demeanor. Now, after more
than two decades without a serious film role, she makes a
sparkling comeback in Albert Brooks' intimate comedy Mother.
DAVID
FURNISH: After
being away from movies for so long, what was your first day like
back on the set when you made Mother?
DEBBIE
REYNOLDS: I
was very nervous. I had stopped doing my cabaret act a month
before because Albert [Brooks] wanted me to lose
Debbie Reynolds the vaudevillian, dancer, singer, and
comedienne, and become Debbie Reynolds the mother. I wasn't even
sure if the whole technique of film acting was the same as it
had been. Albert works with a handheld camera, which didn't even
exist when I was in film. He also writes very long scenes, so it
was a very difficult script for me. I had ten, twelve pages to
learn at a clip.
DF:
Your character, Beatrice, is required to go through some very
subtle changes as the mother and son in the film get to know
each other better. Was that a challenge?
DR:
It was very hard to keep it real, keep it honest, keep it
subtle. Now I'm doing another, very funny film called In and
Out, with Kevin Kline, Tom Selleck, and Matt
Dillon. I'm playing Kevin's mother, but she's an entirely
different type of mother - a very broad character. I could have
played my role in Albert's film more broadly and gotten bigger
laughs. But that's not what Albert was driving at. His film is
very special and intimate. It took a lot of control.
DF:
Is there a calmness in your life that's reflected in that subtle
performance?
DR:
There has never been a calmness in my life.
DF:
Not at all?
DR:
Never. That woman in Mother is nothing like Debbie.
[laughs]
DF:
She's quite nonplussed by her son returning home.
DR:
I would have cleaned out the room. I would have had it fixed up
for him. I would have had food. I would have brought in cooks. I
would have had a party. I would have had a jazz trio. I would
have had all new clothes laid out for him - "Here, pick
whatever outfit, dear. You look better in this." It would
have been a whole other story.
DF:
Brooks' character is still seeking approval from his mom. Your
daughter, Carrie, has publicly aired a lot of her own
insecurities about growing up with a famous mother. Did you
connect with Mother because of that element?
DR:
Carrie and I have had our differences since she was fourteen.
She wanted to have a literary life, and she didn't really want
to go to school to find that. So we had a problem, because I
insisted that she finish her education. Now she thanks me. But
that cost me three years of not talking to my daughter. That's
life. In Mother, the son comes home because his life is
not happy and he wants to blame it on his mother. But he finds
out that she's a pretty terrific lady.
DF:
In fact, it's the other son [played by Rob Morrow] who
has a more complicated relationship with the mother -
DR:
But see, I don't have that with my son, Todd [Fisher].
He runs my hotel-casino in Las Vegas, and he's absolutely there
for my dreams. He and Carrie feel no jealousy. So there weren't
a lot of things for me to draw upon for this role. All the
ingredients were in the script. I just had to play it correctly.
DF:
When Carrie wrote about the conflicts you two had in her novel Postcards
From the Edge [1987] and the film version [1990], was that
difficult for you?
DR:
No, because it wasn't about me. If you read the book, you'll see
the book wasn't the movie. She did the movie for money, and she
wrote it the way [director] Mike Nichols wanted it. I'm
not an alcoholic - she created that. Every interviewer asks, and
I just simply say that I've been blessed not to have an
addictive personality. I certainly have a drink at a party. I
might have two or even three. But I couldn't drink working
forty-eight years, never missing a show, never missing a
performance, raising five kids. It would have been impossible.
DF:
When the film came out, I think a lot of people thought,
"Oh, this is -"
DR:
Oh, sure. I told her they would, and I took it on the chin.
Carrie said no, but I said, "That'll be me, and that'll be
you." And that's exactly what happened. Everyone loves
gossip and intrigue.
DF:
That's always been life for you, hasn't it?
DR:
That's the fishbowl.
DF:
Do you think today's press is different?
DR:
They're much more brazen. Some of them should be shot. But,
luckily for me, I'm not the big star I was in my twenties. I
would hate the harassment. When Alec Baldwin hit that
photographer, I said, "Good! Hit him harder." You
can't go out in your own backyard. They shoot a picture of Elizabeth
[Taylor] early in the morning - they want her to look
bad. That's just cruel and evil.
DF:
Getting back to your own career, you've achieved so much. Are
there any challenges left?
DR:
I was a simple little girl from Texas - Mary Frances Reynolds. I
wanted to be a gym teacher. But I won a contest at sixteen and
became Miss Burbank of 1948. There was a talent scout there.
Jack Warner changed my name to Debbie, I did Singin' in the
Rain, and I've adored staying Debbie Reynolds ever since.
I'm living more dreams than I ever could have dreamed.
DF:
But do you want more?
DR:
I just want to be like Sophie Tucker and Jimmy Durante
and George Burns - onstage performing to the end. If
movies come along in the future, I'll be thrilled to interrupt
that song and dance and go into my acting mode. But my favorite
thing will always be singing and dancing.
DF:
Why were you absent from the movies for so long?
DR:
I was a single mother, and I had to make a living. When films
changed, they didn't want me. They stopped sending scripts. But
in the theater, everybody accepted me and enjoyed my show. So I
went on the road. I played the Palladium in London in the last
year of live vaudeville. I played Broadway.
DF:
Did you long to do another film?
DR:
No, I didn't like the product. First of all, Hollywood was
making very dramatic, heavy films - nothing I was really
interested in. Live performing is still my favorite medium. But
everybody seems to think Mother is charming and funny and
heartwarming. And what more can you ask from a non-epic picture
without dinosaurs?
DF:
There was a quote from your book [Debbie: My Life, 1988] that I
found particularly touching. You said, "Movies must be one
of the few businesses where personal pain makes you more
valuable."
DR:
I would never wish anyone personal pain, but the more you have
to draw on as an actress, the more you can bring personal
experience to your role. And I have had plenty of experience.
[laughs]
DF:
You talked about it in the context of the very public end to
your first marriage when you lost your husband Eddie Fisher
to Elizabeth Taylor. Was it a difficult book for you to write?
DR:
Difficult? It was something I wanted to do before I died so that
someone else wouldn't write something that was a lie.
DF:
How do you feel about your own children pursuing careers in show
business?
DR:
I've never thought about it one way or another. I didn't know
what they'd want to be. I just let them grow up. They've had
their ups and downs in their personal lives. My personal life
has always been a disaster, so I offer no example for them as
far as picking the right mate. But my career has always been
wonderful to me.
DF:
Was there any advice you gave them?
DR:
Instead of criticizing your parents, just don't be like them. In
your work, just work harder. If something fails, be better next
time, Life is a fight. You'll fall down on the mat one time, two
times. But there's a line in The Unsinkable Molly Brown
[1964]: "I ain't down yet."
DF:
That's good advice from any parent. You were always the girl
next door - that was the basis of your appeal. You don't see
much of that image anymore.
DR:
People think it's too corny. But there are still a lot of places
where people are raised quite simply and innocently. They don't
use profanity, they don't screw their neighbors, and the sister
doesn't screw the brother. The garbage we see today on
television is just so nauseating, so beyond words. It should be
thrown off the air. It's better in film, but women will probably
always have to fight harder. I work all the time because I don't
wait for work. I create my own. And I don't stay home and feel
sorry for myself. I work for different salaries. I go with
whatever the traffic will bear, because I love to perform, and I
want to keep working.
DF:
You and your son have built a five-hundred-seat theater next to
your hotel-casino in Las Vegas. What kinds of shows do you put
on?
DR:
I do impressions - Zsa Zsa Gabor, Bette Davis, Katharine
Hepburn, and Barbra Streisand. I do whoever's hot,
whoever's current. And I do comedy and singing. It's a variety
show.
DF:
Do you ever see a day when you'll just want to have less on your
plate?
DR:
I hope not, because that would mean I'd be ill. My life is a bit
too full, but it's never boring.
|