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."
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