Movieline

The Flint Beneath the Shimmer

After a classically inauspicious beginning, Andie MacDowell has run a long gauntlet toward Hollywood success and respect. With one starring role in the touted Multiplicity and another opposite John Travolta due later this year, she just might be about to really catch fire.

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As Andie MacDowell strides toward me through one of the snazziest restaurants in Austin, Texas, my first thought is: This woman's best work is dead ahead. OK, laugh. For years it's been hip to dis or devalue MacDowell, I know that. It started back in 1984, when she twirled off the fashion runways of Rome and Paris into a plum lead in Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, only to have her South Carolina drawl expunged and replaced with Glenn Close's faux British drawing room tones. A mortifying blow, Hollywood and the media that follow it wrote MacDowell off as a ventriloquist's dummy, albeit one with a Modigliani-esque face, abundant charm and one fabulous head of hair. For the next four years, The Model Who Had to Be Dubbed snagged only lucrative TV commercials, an Italian miniseries and a role in the Brat Pack soap opera, St. Elmo's Fire. Critic John Simon labeled her "that horse-faced pseudosultry jeans model... who cannot act and cannot even read lines."

Then, all of a sudden, MacDowell showed up in the small, brilliant, out-of-the-blue sex, lies, and videotape. As the sexually bottled-up married woman who falls for her husband's weird friend, she turned in a sly, triumphant performance that would have cinched stardom for nearly anyone else. She placed a close second behind Meryl Streep as Best Actress at Cannes and The New York Times called it "incomprehensible" when she failed to win an Oscar nomination. But the Hollywood establishment, still sniggering over Greystoke and her modeling past, showed her only a grudging respect, falling over them-selves to predict stardom instead for her costar Laura San Giacomo, Since then, MacDowell has nibbled around the edges of major stardom, being all too easy to underestimate in hits (Groundhog Day), almost hits (Given Card), out-right flops (Hudson Hawk, Bad Girls) and ambitious off-the-menu items (The Object of Beauty, Short Cuts, Unstrung Heroes). Even in a box-office and critical grand slam, Four Weddings and a Funeral, critics overlooked her gracious playing to genuflect instead at the altar of Hugh Grant's formidable charm.

While MacDowell's perseverance may remain an enigma to some, to an ever-growing group of others she is that close to becoming the real thing. It's been a long haul, but mainstream Hollywood finally appears to be catching on to what filmmakers like Peter Weir (who praised her for having "a sense of mystery that is rare among modern women") figured out years ago: Andie MacDowell makes what she does look lots easier than it is. About to be seen opposite Michael Keaton in Multiplicity, a farcical fable riding into theaters on a promising buzz, MacDowell is pronounced by that film's director, Harold Ramis, "a traditional movie star, in the sense that she plays herself extremely well." And she's already at work here in Texas on another highly touted picture, Nora Ephron's comedic Michael, in which she stars with John Travolta.

So, that's why, when MacDowell shows up looking feral, sleek and absolutely present in a black leather jacket and matching slacks, I know there's flint to be struck beneath this woman's shimmer.

As soon as MacDowell sits down across from me, it's clear that movies have largely missed out on her sparkly energy, bristling wit and up-tempo smarts. At 37, married for 10 years to former model and major babe Paul Qualley and a mother of three ridiculously gorgeous children, with whom she shares a 3,000-acre Montana ranch, she looks supremely comfortable in her translucent skin.

All well and good. But can this nervy, sexy energy translate into playfulness? I decide to find out by mentioning that Marisa Tomei once merrily told me how she had turned down Four Weddings and a Funeral.

MacDowell responds to this bit of information in butter-wouldn't- melt-in -her-mouth tones, brow slightly arched. "They saw a lot of other people for the role," she tells me. "I was quite impressed that I was the one who was, in fact, doing the movie. Not only did Marisa Tomei lose out as an artist for not taking the opportunity to work with wonderful people on this amazing movie, she lost a lot of money."

MacDowell delivers this last pronouncement with such unalloyed, lady-like glee that we both crack up. ''And the money just keeps coming." she adds, grinning. "See, I didn't get money for it up front, but I had points. I had a huge mortgage and I didn't plan the last baby, but Four Weddings and a Funeral paid for me to sit back and take a year off, pay my mortgage, have plenty of money and even invest some, too."

Take that, Marisa!

Now, can MacDowell be as candid about her own career missteps as she is about her good fortune? I've always wondered, for instance, what kept her going after Greystoke, a debacle that would have sent other models running for cover to the comforts of prescription drugs and more Vogue covers. How did she gut through one of the more career-crippling blows in screen history? "When I heard the news, I was in my hotel room alone," she recalls, after a moment's hesitation. "At the time of Greystoke, I was not even in a good relationship, so I had no one to share it with. I didn't deceive myself for one minute about what the media was going to do with it or what people in the business were going to think. I said to myself, 'Either I jump out that window out of humiliation and embarrassment or I fight.' The choice was there: die or fight. It was set up so perfectly for people to think that I had no capabilities whatsoever. So, I decided to go to class, to evolve. Until sex, lies, and videotape, I was untouchable. My manager was fighting for me with people who would not even see me. It certainly hasn't been easy, but I'm proud of my achievements."

And so she should be, since she has shown unusual dexterity in that minefield-strewn genre, the romantic comedy, a form in which Meg Ryan and Julia Roberts have distinguished themselves, while others like Geena Davis and Debra Winger have gotten rudely tarnished. Is MacDowell comfortable sparkling in a niche market once cornered by the magnificent likes of Irene Dunne, Jean Arthur and Claudette Colbert?

"I told my agent the other day that I want desperately to play a woman who is sexy and strong and powerful," she asserts. 'To play someone like that doesn't necessarily mean we have to go back to the great roles women had in the '40s and '50s. For an actress to be sexy and strong, the project doesn't have to be--shouldn't have to be--a period piece. So far, though, I'm not finding scripts. Either nobody's writing them or somebody else is getting all the pleasure. So, to answer your question, I feel I have so much more to offer."

I mention some of the movie assignments I've heard MacDowell was up for; Flashdance, Ghost, The Silence of the Lambs, Fatal Attraction, The Last of the Mohicans, Indecent Proposal. What did she think of some of those decidedly non- romantic -comedy roles? MacDowell doesn't want to offend anybody by directly confirming or denying involve-ment with these projects, but she will him at her own sensibilities by commenting on the roles. "I had a hard time with The Silence of the Lambs," she admits. "Because of the subject matter. Those kinds of movies disturb me. I get lost in them, they terrify me, and I don't want those images in my head. Jodie Foster did a beautiful job and won the Academy Award for it. It was a very challenging role and to miss the opportunity to have someone as talented as Jonathan Demme directing you is a great loss for an actress." A toss MacDowell is willing to incur, obviously. What movie can MacDowell point to as something that's akin to her sensibility?

"I thought Meryl in The Bridges of Madison County was really something," she answers, beaming. "I never really liked that book and I had some problems with the story, but I loved things in the movie, like when they pulled back the camera and the two of them were just in the kitchen with their bodies in such close proximity. You felt that you were witnessing something complex and multilayered, I'll tell you something else. One great, great recent loss was [the death of director] Krzysztof Kieslowski. The way he saw women in Red, White and Blue was just amazing. He could have done the kind of movie I want to do. When I was making The Object of Beauty in London, he came over and spoke to me in a restaurant. He saw potential in me to do work. I felt a wonderful connection."

I'm wondering whether it is true, as I've heard, that MacDowell has refused certain roles out of deference to her family, particularly husband Paul Qualley, who, since retiring from modeling for such clients as the Gap, has become a builder and gentleman rancher. "Her family life is what drives her," MacDowell's Multiplicity director Harold Ramis told me. "She's like one of those Greek fishermen who go away for six months to earn enough money to keep their families. Being the big bread winner, she knows she can build a certain security for her family if she piles up enough money doing these lead roles while she's still young and beautiful enough. But she's specific about what she'll do and what she's right for."

No kidding, MacDowell confides to me that a friend advised against her doing Four Weddings because it contained so many repetitions of the "f" word--a word Mac-Dowell calls her "least favorite in the world, because it's so overused in this business and shows such a lack of intelligence from the person who uses it." Indeed, out of respect for her spouse, she even declines to dish with me about the great kissers with whom she's worked. Will her standards limit her movie menu to strictly vanilla? "As long as a role has intelligence and integrity to it and Paul knows that it's something that will challenge me as an actress, I don't think he would keep me from doing it," she says. "But we've had some tensions. I met with Adrian Lyne on a couple of things, because he and I shot a commercial together even before he did Flashdance. I kept deliberating whether I wanted to go in to read for Weeks because it was just this side of sleazy. Now, after seeing Thelma & Louise, I said to my husband, 'Damn, I would have loved to have done Geena Davis's role." He got very upset because it was also very sexual, hut I loved that. The roles that I would like to have done that are very sexual give him the willies. He used to be bugged by the fact that I'm enamored of things Jessica Lange has done. It kind of intimidates him. But I think we're actually in a better place now than we have been in a long time."

None of this is to suggest that MacDowell is a prude. I've heard, for instance, that in the privacy of the Qualley family ranch, indoor clothing is, well, optional. True? MacDowell grins radiantly and says, "I grew up in a house full of women, three sisters and my mother, and I vividly remember the freedom of being naked because we didn't have any guys around. We were always naked and, today, I just walk into the kitchen naked all the time. Luckily, my husband is the same as me. We're just comfortable with that and so are our kids. We're just, like, the Naked Family. Paul and I both having been models, you get a lot of freedom from changing clothes in front of other people. My son is nine now and I told him, if this is not normal, let me know, because I don't want you to grow up and say, "My mother walked around naked in front of me all the time.'" He said, 'Let's worry about it when I'm 10.'"

MacDowell doesn't come right out and say it, but it cannot have escaped her attention that her Michael costar John Travolta is reportedly earning well over $10 million, considerably more than she is. "If I have to choose between making good money and keeping my dignity," she says, "I'd rather have my dignity. And playing a great character would bring me more joy than all the money in the world. I fought for my role in Michael. I went and read for Nora [Ephron] and [producer] Sean Daniel when they weren't even sure they were going to make the movie. I meant it when I said, 'We'll sit here and read this whole script if you want to.' I really wanted this one, and it's hard if you come from that place when you're trying to get more money, because they know they have you. At one point, John [Travolta] asked me how much I was making, and I said, i don't know,' I remembered the figure as something close to what I've been getting, but that doesn't matter; I'm so happy doing this movie. It's not the sexy, strong, powerful woman role I mentioned earlier to you, but she's a complex, vulnerable person. Besides, I get to sing in it."

Surely such bravery must come in handy when working, as she is on Michael, with someone as legendarily complicated and confrontational as William Hurt. He is, as I understand it, the primary reason I was barred from a visit with MacDowell on location. What's his deal? "William's been misjudged by so many people." she asserts. "It would kill me if anything I had to say about him came out negative, because he's done nothing but enrich me as an actress. He's definitely intense, but he's very vulnerable and sweet and kind and giving. He's completely devoted to the quality of work. I don't think he likes interviews at all, and rightly so, because he's been misjudged and mistreated for his personal life. He's been dragged through horrors."

If MacDowell is getting along well with the notorious Hurt, how did she do with the less notorious Michael Keaton on Multiplicity? "The movie's basically a fantasy, glued together by a strong, passionate relationship. I was much more comfortable than on Groundhog Day [with Bill Murray). I had a blast with Michael, because we both like to talk and we chitchatted like brother and sister everytime we had a break,"

Since MacDowell appears to have gotten on so well with some of the more prickly guys in the business--Bill Murray, Gerard Depardieu, Hurt and Keaton--could anyone accuse her of being a diva? "My husband would say yes," she replies, with a laugh. "I try not to be. I try to keep a handle on it. I like to be treated as one of the crew, one of the people making the film, not as 'the movie star.' However, I wilt break in line on the set when the food's on."

MacDowell certainly didn't have a blast doing Bad Girls, that misfired 1994 shoot-'em-up, in which she shared the screen with Drew Barrymore, Mary Stuart Masterson and Madeleine Stowe. When I mention the movie, MacDowell's eyes widen slightly, and she recalls, "I was taking a bath last night with my baby, and when we came out, my husband and kids were actually watching Bad Girls on cable. It was tough looking at it, because that was a movie on which I was basically just trying to survive. It was a hard situation--hopefully never to be repeated. I was living in a hellhole with roaches in the washing machine and no windows in the kids' room. Drew was a sweetheart, an amazing person. Mary Stuart was very smart and got out of there the first week, while I stubbornly said to myself: i can do this.' When the original director was replaced, I should have walked away from the movie. Either that or asked them to just haul off and shoot me. Just let me die or let me go home."

I notice that MacDowell has omitted mentioning one of her fellow Bad Girls, rumored to have been the baddest. "Suppose you team tomorrow you've snagged a spectacular role in a good film for a top director and your costar is Madeleine Stowe," I say MacDowell's face becomes masklike as she observes, "I want to be very cautious because people change. I don't know what her deal was or what was happening in her life."

Although one has to think that MacDowell could, if she chose, dis plenty of people, she seems constitutionally allergic to Hollywood gossip. She tells me that one of her ambitions is "never to turn up on 'Hard Copy.'" A few seasons back she sparked a stir with a much-quoted interview in the Brit publication Toiler, in which she admitted using cocaine back in her premovie modeling days of the early "80s. It was a period in which she was linked romantically with champagne heir Olivier Chandon, danced the night away at chic European discos, consorted with such fast-lane types as Princess Caroline, and appeared on magazine covers around the globe. Explaining the Tatler Hap, she asserts, color rising, "I am very passionate on the subject of how women have been taught that they need to perceive themselves as perfect, Barbie doll, flawless size sixes."

"Look, I'm 37, smart and, having been a model, I've been through it, but even I looked at a magazine yesterday and thought: 'I've got to lose 10 pounds.' It's that powerful and insidious. Young girls look at supermodels and think that the druggy anorexic look is something to attain. I was trying to explain to the inter-viewer how hard it was for me to maintain the anorexic body favored in the modeling world. I'm not an anorexic girl, thank God. I told the interviewer I'd done some cocaine just as a way of losing weight, but what we really talked about at length was the dilemma, the pressure fell by women. But what came out of the interview was that I was a cocaine addict. I was mauled by everybody."

"The dreaded "Hard Copy" closed in. "'Hard Copy' called, everybody called, the story even hit my sister's local paper," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. "I tried to tell my sister that it's not going to be the last time I'm misjudged in order to sell an article. I've also been abused for having been open about my mother's alcoholism, when all I wanted to do was to say that it's healthy to talk openly about subjects that were once taboo. Instead, the way it came out in the press. I fell I hurt my mother's family, who come from a great, proud farming family and arc from a generation where even talking about alcoholism is just not acceptable."

MacDowell grew up in a South Carolina mill town, a locale Harold Ramis likens to "Dogpatch." She and her three older sisters were raised by a beloved, troubled mother, an alcoholic, who was divorced from their father, a lumber company owner, when MacDowell was six. When drinking and erratic behavior cost her mother her teaching job, Mac-Dowell flipped burgers at McDonald's right alongside her. Through it all she remained emotionally bond-ed to her father, who, she has said, phoned her nightly and saw her on weekends. Her mother died several years ago; her father is still living. "I'm not angry or bitter at my parents," she says, "I'm only sorry for whatever pain they've ever felt. The things I've gone through have made me strong. That's why I hope any stress or challenge I put on my children will help them deal with other things later."

Having had a brush with notoriety, how did MacDowell react to the arrest of her Four Weddings costar, who was found cavorting in his BMW with a Sunset Boulevard fille de joie? "My immediate feeling was concern that perhaps he was drinking too much and that it had had some kind of negative effect on his life. The headlines haven't really harmed him. In fact, they've made him a bigger celebrity, although I'm sure it's not the way he would have liked to have gone about it. He has his dignity. I really felt sorry for him when the news broke because, boy, in England, they just grab hold of that stuff and that's it. They're terrible."

MacDowell appears energized by the awareness that she may soon be stepping out into a wider movie arena. "It's about growing confidence," she believes, "I'm finally in a place where I feel confident and ready to do something interesting and powerful. I'm looking for material that will show people, which was exactly my intention in doing sex, ties, and videotape. I thought, "I finally have the courage to do some-thing that will show casting directors what I'm capable of.'"

Not having decided yet on her next picture, she talks of yearning to spend more time with her family, who have just flown into Texas to spend a few days with her. "I'm all too good about making constructive use of my lime. If anything, i need to spend more time doing absolutely nothing, especially when we're finished shooting." But with interesting movie offers coming in with more regularity, will she feel all the more acutely the tussle between family and career? MacDowell grows very still and relates this story: "I rented a house at the beach last year and my dad was sleeping in this one room," she says, almost whispering. "After he left the beach house, I went into that room and felt all these emotions, all these confused feelings of love, pain, misunderstanding, fear of losing him, regret for all the time I've already lost with him. Just from going into that room where my father had been, these feelings were swimming around. I want some miraculous script to fall into my lap that lets me play the kind of woman I described to you earlier and that has the complexity of the incident I just described to you."

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Stephen Rebello interviewed Jim Carrey for the June '96 issue of Movieline.