Q&A:
Mary-Louise Parker
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Mary-Louise Parker |
Any time Tony, Emmy and Golden
Globe Award winner Mary-Louise
Parker comes back to the theater, it’s an event, especially now that she’s
lighting into her fourth season as the star of the hit stoned-in-suburbia TV
series Weeds on Showtime. However, Parker’s current Broadway vehicle,
Roundabout Theatre Company’s revival of Hedda
Gabler, divided critics, and the leading lady soon found herself choking
on negative gossip in the local press. But backstage in her mellow dressing room
at the American Airlines Theatre, where the actress is now two months into the
play’s three-month run, Parker comes off more as your quintessential, eclectic
New York artist—an enthusiastic lover of red tea, self-proclaimed “poetry geek”
and truly devoted mother to young son William and daughter Aberash—than a
“diva,” a mom who prefers making play-doh sculptures at home to the celebrity
lifestyle (though she always rocks the red carpet). In a frank and wide-ranging
conversation over two cups of the aforementioned tea, Parker addressed the
negative chatter, what piques her diverse interests—and the stuff that really
gets under her thick skin.
This is an epic, difficult role. What drew you to Hedda Gabler?
I wanted to do a show with Roundabout specifically, and [Artistic
Director] Todd [Haimes] was really excited by this play and director [Ian
Rickson]. He got me excited about it. I’m honestly not that excited about
reviving the classics, but I wanted to see if there was a way to modernize the
emotion of [the play] without, you know, having Hedda carry a cell phone. I
wanted to see if there was a way where it could feel immediate and honest, and
not actress-y, which in some ways I think works and in some ways doesn’t in this
production. It is at odds with certain aspects of the play, but if I ever have
the energy to play Hedda again—which I don’t!—I’d love to see it taken even
further in that direction.
More contemporary?
Not necessarily more
contemporary, because I think some people’s issue with the play is that it feels
contemporary but it shouldn’t. People are in period costume, and that’s
confusing on some levels; I agree with that. The other issue is the text isn’t
entirely committed to being modern, it’s somewhere in the middle, so in that
sense there’s a lot of elements at work. But I thought it was an interesting
idea [the revival]. I’ve done a lot of the classics—I went to a conservatory.
But I’m really turned off by the sort of mid-Atlantic, accented, theatrical
“classic” acting thing. I really don’t like it and don’t respond to it, because
it just doesn’t feel human to me. I can do it! But I won’t. I like to turn
things inside out and upside down.
Your resume reflects that. Where does Hedda fit?
Well, if I look
at my whole theatrical career, I spent the first five years in a corset with an
English accent. I thought I’d never get to say “yeah” or “uh-huh” onstage, ever!
Then I got Prelude to a Kiss and I got to speak modern idioms. It was
really exciting for me. When I open a play that’s never been done before,
nothing is more exciting. That’s what I hope to continue to do. But I’ve played
a wide variety of roles in a lot of films or plays that no one has ever seen. I
played a Cockney dominatrix; how much farther from yourself can you go?!
When were you a cockney dominatrix?
Communicating
Doors. It was an Alan Ayckbourn show, about 10 years ago. I loved it.
Did you keep the boots?
I’m archived at Boston University, so I
actually sent them there. But I kept the dog collar.
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Michael Cerveris & Mary Louise Parker in Hedda Gabler |
Are there any
classic roles that do turn you on?
Portia in The Merchant of
Venice. I think she’s a baddass. But people rarely want to do that play. It
can be interpreted as anti-Semitic, so that turns people off.
Hedda seems like a role that could devour you. Has it been a challenge?
It has, just in terms of pure energy. I’ve got two children! You don’t
get to sleep a lot when you have two children, and you need sleep when
you’re doing the show twice a day. There are times when I’ve done two shows and
one of the kids is sick and suddenly I’m up all night, and it’s only me there. I
don’t want them to be sick, but it does make me feel useful—I’m very good at
taking care of sick people! But it’s hard when you’re juggling the show,
especially if the [performance] didn’t go well.
How are the audiences responding?
With the exception of some of
the matinees, the audience is really into it. Our audiences seem to be, for the
most part, people who don’t really know the play. They want to know what’s going
to happen next, and the first act ends well, so people stick around to find out.
With a subscription audience, there’s generally a high percentage of walk-outs
at intermission. Apparently, for this play, there’s a lower percentage of
walk-outs than there’s ever been. I certainly don’t think the show is perfect,
or that I am, but there must be something to it or there wouldn’t be anyone
there. And we wouldn’t be selling tickets after The New York Times shat
on it. It’s really sort of remarkable that there’s anyone in the house at all!
The show is selling fine—maybe not as well as when I usually do a play? But it’s
hard to sell tickets when someone shits on the show.
Do you feel the reviews were unfair or off-point?
Well I only read
one, and I wouldn’t have read that one except I was getting texts at 7 in
the morning saying, “Fuck him, I hate Ben Brantley!” Then people started
sending me presents to [make me feel better]. I figured at that point I really
needed to see the review. So I read it and, yeah, that was kind of a mistake. It
would have been better to have someone say, “It’s really horrible. Don’t read
it!”
How do you get onstage and do the show after reading something like that?
Oh, you can’t even explain it. I should have thicker skin, but you’re
human, and you have to go out there in front of 800 people and pretend nothing
happened after someone peed on something you worked on for nine months.—and
attacking it as if I didn’t know the choices that were made, or I’m incapable of
classical theater, which is all I did for the first five years of my career. I
wasn’t approaching it as a traditional character, but I’m not really a
traditional person, so what do you want?
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Mary-Louise Parker as Hedda Gabler, photographed by Nigel Parry |
[Parker’s
telephone rings. It’s the nanny.]
His what hurts? Ohhh. [speaking to
her son] Hey buddy! How are you doin’? Not so good? Hey, you know that
sticker you put on me before I left? I still have them on. They look pretty
funny. What bunny? It’s okay, we’re going to make it better. And I’m gonna bring
you home a little piece of candy, okay? I love you, I’ll be home soon.
[sighs] We were just at home together building castles out of a big
cardboard box and roasting marshmallows, and he was fine! Now he has a fever.
Nothing in my life would make me want to leave the theater other than
that, that little voice at the end of the phone.
How do you combine motherhood and this intense career?
Not as well as
I would like; I wish I could do it better. I have a brunch here on Sundays, so I
bring them to the theater, and I don’t do much during the day. If they need me,
I cancel everything—interviews, whatever it takes. I’m the first thing they see
in the morning, but it’s hard not to be there. I’m planning a little vacation to
take them skiing right after this before my TV show [Weeds] starts up
again. We don’t ski! But we’re going to play in the snow and have hot chocolate
and spend time together with my brother. I just try to make life as fun as
possible when I’m there—that’s it. I made [Weeds] create a playroom with
art supplies and a couch and pictures for them to spend time in when I’m on set.
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Is it weird to have your kids near a show with sex and drugs and
guns…
…oh, they don’t go on the set! Prop room or playroom! If it’s
something really benign, which is rare on that show, then I’ll let them come
through. But they don’t care that much [about the acting part]. They like the
snack truck the most. It has a snow cone machine.
One last Hedda question and we can move on: The New York
Post wrote that people were not getting along, that this has been a
nightmare show. How did you respond to that?
I went and talked to
[columnist Michael Riedel].
Really?
I just said “I don’t know you and I know I’m not supposed
to be sitting here, but I just have to tell you I’m not that woman you [wrote
about]. I’m a single mother! I don’t have the energy to be that kind of person.”
I mean, look: I turned down films to do this because I love theater and want to
support it. So please don’t attack me when I’m here. I was talking to Laura
Linney recently and she was saying that there’s really only a handful of us
[female film and TV stars] who love the theater and will always come back to it
no matter what. But we’re going to stop loving it if you’re this mean, because
that sort of [gossip] hurts, and it’s untrue. I’m not going to say I’m
not occasionally over-impassioned. I’m an extremely passionate person, and I
have a strong point of view, but I would feel completely comfortable with you
walking into the dressing rooms of the other actors here, knowing they would say
nice things about me. I love theater actors! That’s why I’m here! I come
backstage at night and just bow to [co-star] Ana Reeder because she’s an amazing
woman and actor.
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Mary-Louise Parker & Hunter Parrish in Weeds |
Good for you.
Certainly there are problems on this production. There are on every
production you’ve ever heard of. Considering it’s a difficult play and some
aspects of it don’t fully work, we worked great. But [the Post] saying
that [director] Ian Rickson went back to London because we didn’t get along? He
was at my house for Christmas! He’s not my best friend, but it’s just…Riedel did
the same thing when I was working on Dead Man’s Cell Phone, and it was a
complete fabrication. The rumor was that I wouldn’t go onstage for the first
preview because I didn’t like the end of the play. That’s, like, crazy! The
first preview was cancelled because I was vomiting, and was sent home after I
showed up anyway. I was puking, going, “No, no, I can do this!” And they were
all yelling at me to get the fuck home. But it’s more fun to write about me
[being a bitch]. They want to create these iconic, infamous, ruined women
wreaking havoc. It’s so mean.
Moving along, you’ve said you picked Weeds because it was dark,
then it moved more toward comedy and you missed its edginess. Do you think it
shifted back in the third season?
I do! There are a lot of voices on a
TV show and some people lean more toward the broad, but I think last seaso was
the most complete. We all felt it was the best, except I really, really missed
the characters that weren’t there, like [former co-star] Romany Malco. Dude, I
miss him so much!
What questions would you be happy not to be asked ever again?
I
don’t want to be asked about certain aspects of my private life. I never have
talked about it, so I’m not going to start. That’s the only thing that really
bothers me. I like cool questions. Someone asked me recently, “If someone was
going to write a love song about you, who would you want it to be and why?” I
like that, because it tells you about a person. It’s just the personal stuff. I
feel bad saying for the hundredth time I won’t talk about it, but I don’t want
to go there.
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Mary-Louise Parker & Patrick Wilson in HBO's Angels in America |
What
was the answer? And didn’t Counting Crows already write one for you?
Ha!
Yes, they did. I said Tom Waits. But that’s a hard question to answer! There was
a painting that [musician] Ryan Adams did for me that was really beautiful
called “Mary-Louise’s Flowers.” I look at it every day. It’s an amazing
painting.
The photo shoots you’ve done for Hedda, Weeds and editorials are
works of art themselves.
Oh yeah, my friend [photographer] Nigel Parry
did the art for Hedda Gabler. They were really there dumping leaves on my
head. He and I have done a lot of crazy stuff together. He shot me naked a lot.
For the Hedda shoot he was like, “I can’t believe you’re wearing
clothes!”
You talk about having a specific way of working and collaborating with
directors. Any desire to direct a show yourself?
I’ve always said no,
but if I found a play that excited me, in a tiny little black box theater, that
would really excite me. I don’t know if I have that kind of brain, to be honest.
I’ve worked with so many brilliant directors like Dan Sullivan, Norman Rene,
Mark Brokaw, Mike Nichols. They all work differently, but they left me with
important things. I’m certainly not a film director. But I love actors, so it
could be interesting.
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Profiles of you frequently comment on how you’ve chosen smaller projects over
big vehicles, and that you should have an Oscar. Are you happy with where
you’re at?
I’m not really career-driven. I don’t have any big plan, and
I’m not reaching for some kind of prize. I’m just happy doing it. I’ve already
achieved what I wanted to achieve, if there ever was something like that. When I
started out, I just wanted my Equity card! I still remember the day I got it.
Where were you?
I was on 82nd and Amsterdam, and I did a little
dance on the street as it came in the mail. I was doing Night of the
Iguana at the Hartford Stage. It was pretty exciting. I just wanted to do
theater and do good writing, and I got to do that!
In addition to Weeds, you’ve also got the film Howl (with
James Franco, Paul Rudd, David Strathairn and Jeff Daniels) coming up, about
[poet] Allen Ginsberg’s controversial poem. Are you a poetry fan?
I am a
huge poetry geek—geek, geek, geek! I love Mark Strand, Charles Simac,
Yusef Komunyakaa, Sharon Olds and Andrew Zawacki, I really like him. I’m a
poetry whore! My homepage on my computer is www.poets.org. I’m not pulled to the
beat poets like Ginsberg, but I do love Richard Brautigan. God, I’m such a geek.
But in the film I play Gail Potter, this highly conservative woman who testified
against the poem and against its obscenity, so that’s really interesting.
It’s a flip.
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Mary-Louise Parker in Dead Man's Cell Phone |
Do you write poetry yourself?
Yeah. I write for Esquire too. I love to write. But the poetry is
just for me.
So between Weeds, film and Broadway: Los Angeles or New York?
Always New York. I only go to Los Angeles for the TV show. I’m a bad
driver. New York it just my home. The paparazzi have unfortunately come here now
too, and a lot of that has gotten out of hand. If I wasn’t an actress, I
probably wouldn’t live here anymore. I’ve got two kids! I’d go somewhere remote.
What would you do if you weren’t an actress?
Write! Or be a
kindergarten teacher. I was never able to think of not acting. But it’s
just such a mean world. It’s so much about dragging people down and exposing
things now. Life is mean enough. The kids are my balance, thankfully. I try to
stay away from it, but the trouble is, it finds me. I’m sitting in the living
room with the two of them painting a mask or a cat, or something, or we’re
making cookies, and my publicist calls and says, “[The Post] is
publishing this item about you…”. And I’m like, “I’m just making oatmeal
cookies! Why are you jacking my happiness?” But I love theater. It’s who I am.
This [Hedda] experience was hard and disheartening sometimes, but in
another way it was inspiring, because you have a good show despite it all, and
that feels amazing. When I feel married to a play I want to work on for four
months, I’ll be back [on Broadway]. But I need a divorce from Hedda first!
See Mary-Louise Parker in Hedda
Gabler at the American Airlines Theatre.