Jessica Lange peaks again in 'Don't Come Knocking'
Two-time Oscar winner talks new Wim Wenders project, revisits
past career glories by Todd Hill
Source: Staten Island Advance
Date: March 26, 2006
There's no knowing, really, when a performer's career has peaked,
but it would be hard for anyone to top the dozen years in film
that Jessica Lange had from 1982 to 1994, including Lange herself.
Listening to the actress reminisce about her favorite experiences
working in film, all from that period, is like getting a sneak
preview of the script for the lifetime achievement Oscar she'll
inevitably earn one day.
" I'd have to say Blue Sky with
Tommy Lee Jones and (director) Tony Richardson, that was a treat.
Music Box with (director) Costa-Gavras.
Working on Patsy Cline, Sweet Dreams,
with (director) Karel Reisz and Mr. (Ed) Harris. Being able
to play Frances Farmer, working with (director) Sydney (Pollack)
on Tootsie," recounts Lange during
an interview in a Midtown Manhattan hotel room.
Lange is older now, 56, but her remarkably lithe frame still
moves like a cat, her voice retains that feline purr she became
famous for. And although she may work less now, like most women
her age in American motion pictures, she allows that that's
at least partly by choice. "I'm pretty selective, just
because after 30 years, you know, why am I going to waste my
time doing something that I don't want to do?" she said.
THE CRUCIAL SCENE
What matters is that when she does sign on to a project worthy
of her time and energy, that she makes those moments count --
like the crucial scene she has in the new independent film Don't
Come Knocking, now playing in Manhattan.
The film, a product of the German filmmaker Wim Wenders and
Sam Shepherd, the actor/playwright who's been Lange's companion
for over 20 years, tells the story of a washed-up actor (Shepherd),
on the lam from a movie set, who wanders into Butte, Mont.,
to look up a lost love, a waitress named Doreen, played by Lange.
Doreen is now the mother of a twentysomething son from that
affair, which colors the reunion, and although Lange has only
a few scenes in the movie she makes them matter, particularly
one incendiary moment between her and Shepherd, shot on the
deserted, early-morning streets of Butte.
" Every time I have a script there's that one scene that
kind of looms out there on the horizon that you know sooner
of later you're going to have to play, and of course this was
the one," said Lange. "The day we were shooting we
blocked it of course, walking down the street, stopping here
and stopping there, but there was no discussion of the velocity
of it or anything like that. The first take it just kind of
exploded. It surprised Sam and it surprised Wim and I had no
idea it would go to that."
But apparently Lange knows from experience that this can sometimes
happen. She recounts the first day of shooting 1994's Blue
Sky, for which she would win an Oscar, with director
Richardson. "He scheduled this huge, explosive scene between
me and Tommy Lee where I like flip out and Tommy Lee has to
chase me into town and kind of bring me back," said the
actress. "I said to Tony, I said, 'God, I don't even know
who the character is and you're asking me to play it.' He said,
'That's the best time to play it. Just play it.' Sometimes if
you don't overthink it it takes on a life of its own."
STIMULI SPONGE
Lange doesn't give the impression of an actress who analyzes
her characters to the nth degree, and if that is her she's not
letting on. But she admits to being a sponge when it comes to
external stimuli, like the experience of filming in a place
like Butte, Mont.
"The town is basically emptied out. Once the last Anaconda
mines pulled out that was the end of the town. It's like a ghost
town in a way, and that whole emotional sense of place I think
informed all the characters. It was by no coincidence that Wim
set it there," she said.
"Wenders' background includes experience as an artist,
so he has that painterly sense," said Lange." It's
no secret I think that he was paying homage to (Edward) Hopper
in the way that he was composing his shots. It has that kind
of bleak American loneliness, that emptiness."
The conversation turns to the film Brokeback Mountain,
from the Taiwanese director Ang Lee, another example of a foreigner
grasping this aspect of the American psyche.
"I think when you come in with a fresh eye you see it without
all the baggage that we bring to our own culture. I thought
it was a brilliant film." (Suffice to say that Lange was
not one of the members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts
and Sciences who helped Crash win Best Picture.) " I want
to work with Ang Lee so much, I can't tell you," she said.
Make no mistake, Lange is still working steadily, but they're
small, independent. "No surefire things there," she
said.
Lange's greatest trepidation with indie films is the reality
that they often come with first-time directors, and you don't
know what you're going to get. Said the actress, "When
I think of the directors I worked with for a stretch of time,
you were in the hands of somebody brilliant. Now a lot of times
you're saying, 'Well, I'll take a chance on this guy who's never
directed a film before but, you know, maybe he's got it in him'."
If it indeed comes to pass that Lange's Oscar-winning career
has peaked, she knows very well where much of that blame will
lie. "If you look at the mid-1970s right up to about 1990,
when it felt like it began to change, there were more great
women's roles. There was a handful of great actresses and we
all had more than we could handle," she said.
"There were a lot, they were great, and they were studio
films. But that came to an end."
Close Window
and Return to Media Menu