Diane Lane: Sudden Lane Changes

Q: It would have been hard not to be angry when lesser talents were constantly failing upward.

A: I grew comfortable with the idea that it was OK if I just enjoyed the experience of making my films. I fashioned my own reward system to be something that they couldn't take away from me. That included enjoying people I got to work with, like getting to have riotously funny conversations with Donald Sutherland before doing our crying scene in Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All, or just thinking about the fact that while he was playing a cataract-ridden wild man flailing in a bed, I was in my trailer lactating. There's a blessing/curse dichotomy to the bounty of this career which can be traced by anyone at the cut-rate section of your local Blockbuster. [Laughing]

Q: What's a movie you didn't land that you really wanted?

A: I remember auditioning really hard for Jerry Maguire--not for the Renee [Zellweger] role, which didn't really speak to me, but the bitchy role Kelly Preston played. I wanted a chance to play something really freeing, like No Miss Congeniality Prize for Me Today. There were roles that won other people Oscars that I don't know if I'd have gotten even if I'd fought as hard as I could have but that I didn't fight for. And, in hindsight, looking at those films I was really glad that I listened to my intuition, because I doubt I'd have fleshed those roles out to the degree that the other actresses did. There's an appropriateness of an actor for a character--the time of life that the performer is in, his or her emotional availability. That's kind of what occurred with me on Unfaithful.

Q: Doing Unfaithful, you had to be aware that you were going for broke.

A: Not at all. I thought I would be in the one Adrian Lyne flop. [Laughing]

Q: Would you say yes to another movie as sexual as Unfaithful as your daughter gets old enough to see your work?

A: Sexuality removed far enough out of context is pornography, but compartmentalizing it is what created the porn industry. My parents treated me like I had a brain--which, in turn, caused me to have one. You can squash a person's belief in herself by not believing in her, especially a child. I have to trust her. She needs to be armed with the truth. That means seeing all of my work and stumbling across things that aren't fun and are confusing for her. I want her to feel like we have no secrets. But I don't want her to have information that is inflammatory without context.

Q: Your mother, Colleen Farrington, a singer, appeared as a Playboy centerfold in the '50s. Despite your beauty and sensuality, you have never chosen to pose in a men's magazine.

A: My joke about that is that my mother gave at the office for our family so, hey, it's like our taxes are paid. I've seen how difficult it was for her to reconcile the aftermath of that in terms of what people made of it.

Q: Have fans been more aggressive lately?

A: At the airport the other day a very kind, inoffensive young guy approached me with some pictures to sign, and for the first time in my life, it felt like I needed to say no. That was shocking to me. But I felt, well, I'm here alone. Clearly I'm off duty.

Q: Don't tell me you've never gone after anyone's autograph.

A: Ingrid Bergman's at the Venice airport. But I was 10. And I approached her with reverence. She was gracious and delightful and, clearly, I'll never recover.

Q: You said earlier you like the pay raise you've gotten. Have you treated yourself to anything luxurious, just to acknowledge that step-up?

A: My car is nine years old, never had a CD player, and it's got a little patched hole in the convertible roof. It's just not cool to drive up anywhere in it. We also have this mommymobile Volvo, which my daughter named Volvina, and the air-conditioner is going out in it. It's time to recycle the vehicles in that horrible American way. I also want to get a satellite system, where all the music is preprogrammed with no commercials.

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