Lauren Bacall - By Myself and Then Some

The perks were that Harold Pinter was appearing in another theatre at the Festival at almost the same time so I could spend some time with him and his wife, Antonia Fraser, two people I became very attached to in 1985 during our Sweet Bird of Youth months together. Sweet Bird of Youth was a great high for me – first because I was able to speak the words of Tennessee Williams – a great poet and playwright – and because I was directed by Harold Pinter – another great playwright. Harold, being an actor – a good one – himself, was a marvelous director – great and articulate with actors. We hit it off immediately. The entire experience, from our six weeks out of town – in England, that meant Bath, Brighton, Plymouth – all new theatres to me, all enthusiastic audiences – to ending up in London at the Royal Haymarket Theatre inhabiting the dressing room of Gielgud, Olivier, Ralph Richardson, Alec Guinness – all theatre greats – very exciting for me. The play was well received, as was the company. We had a sold-out run of more than six months in England and then went on, this time with an Australian cast, to play four and a half months in that country. Though it was a difficult role, unlike any I’d had before, it was bliss from beginning to end. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship between Harold and Antonia and myself and I am more than grateful for that. Happy times then and ever since.

O n returning to New York , my career took an unexpected turn. Barbra Streisand was going to direct and star in a movie called The Mirror Has Two Faces . I was called to go to her apartment and read a scene with her, playing her mother. You see that for actors auditions never cease. You still never make it. No matter what you call it, I was still being tested, judged. And the time had come – face it – you are a character actress, which actually I always had been anyway, not a leading lady. Well, if I could have more parts as good as the one in The Mirror Has Two Faces , it was fine with me. I was very excited at the prospect of working with Barbra and being directed by her – my first time to be directed by a woman. I had known Barbra since her Funny Girl opening night when she took my breath away with her singing, acting, funny, touching magical self. So I went to her apartment on the appointed day at the appointed hour, as nervous as when at seventeen I had had my first audition.

It was to be my first visit to her private home and I had no idea what to expect. As Barbra is a perfectionist, I knew it would be filled with lovely things – fairly uncluttered and very neat. It was all of that, mostly English furniture, much white upholstery. One thing I did notice was her affection for dolls and doll china – mostly antique and expensive. She herself was dressed in white, all comfortable, at home kind of clothing – pants, scarves hanging loosely. She took me around the apartment, all attractively done, all Barbra’s taste and a bit more formal than I anticipated. After the tour, during which I watched myself carefully – when would we get to talk about the movie? – how many actresses was she considering? – finally she said, ‘Let’s go into the library and read a couple of scenes.’ She said she just wanted a sense of how our voices balanced with each other. I have never been at my best during a reading. She may not have thought of it as an audition – I, however, did. So, we read and I hadn’t a clue how it sounded. I only knew, coming back into the living room, I was not in a social mode. I was talking to a director and a producer. I was in a business mode.

I knew auditions were not me at my best. Some actors thrive on them. I do not. Barbra asked me to wait a few minutes while she met with her partner and producer, Cis Corman. I was a nervous wreck, of course. I was finally called back to the living room. I’ll never forget the setting. Barbra and Cis were seated on a small sofa, Barbra pointing out some of her beautiful and valuable antiques. She said, ‘You were very good. We’ll be in touch.’ It was time for me to leave. I said something on leaving, ‘Thank you. Good to see you again.’ As I headed for the door, Barbra said, ‘So, you think you could play my mother?’ I replied, ‘Yes, I can play your mother.’ (Though come to think of it, I would have had to be a teenage mother to qualify.) And out the door I went, able to take my first big breath in the elevators taking me to the lobby and air. Did I think I was too young to be her mother? Or did she think I was too young to be her mother? Had I read the scene as an older woman? These questions are perfect ways to torture yourself. I found myself shaking and wondering yet again why, at this point in my life, with my years of acting successfully in movies and the theatre, why was I still so low on self-confidence? Childhood anxieties, childhood fears never disappear entirely. They fade, but not away.

A fter a week or so of biting my nails, bugging my agent, I finally got the word. I had got the part. What a joyous moment that was. I was truly happy, thrilled at the prospect. A really good part, a funny character, the best I’d had in years. I had seen movies that Barbra had directed and knew how good she was. The movie was to be shot in New York, which was ideal for me as I could be at home and sleep in my own bed. Jeff Bridges was the leading man in the movie, my first time working with him – a really wonderful actor and lovely guy. Everyone in Mirror was hand chosen by Barbra, as the custom is with directors. It was a good company.

When we started shooting, I saw firsthand how Barbra functioned. It was very odd for us at the beginning because she would be directing the scene behind the camera, then come around in front of the camera and act in the scene. How she did it, I’ll never know, but she did and she does and she can. She is meticulous in her direction – both visually and in the playing of the scenes. Every detail is as important to her as the words. I remember her telling me that she woke up at four o’clock in the morning and sketched exactly what the cape I wore should look like. Then she couldn’t go back to sleep.

She is so concentrated that many days were many hours long. She had the drive that a good director needs, she knew what she wanted in a scene and she wouldn’t quit until she got it. Many days we worked fourteen and sixteen hours – fatigue entered the picture from time to time, but never took over. Barbra was so focused, so concentrated, she lost track of time. She controlled every aspect of the film – wardrobe colors – every detail. Yet no matter how many hours she had worked the day before, she was on set early every morning. Amazing stamina. I marveled at her ability and though I had some frustrating moments, it was my feeling that it was her movie and she was entitled to every bit of it being the way she wanted it.

Her attention to detail was sometimes frustrating but, again, it was her movie, it’s her way, she’s the boss. As I’ve said, movies are a director’s medium, not an actor’s. We got along well. She is not a schmoozer on set. All professional. I like that – I am a professional. Between takes, I tend to loosen up with a laugh or two. Between takes, Barbra’s thinking of what shot comes after and what came before, how many shots she needs for each scene. And, with all of that, she takes her time when her close-ups are shot. She knows every light, where it should be and what it should do. I’ve never been able to know all that. I’ve left it to the cameraman and to the director, often to my detriment. Her best side is her left side. That happens to be my best side as well. Guess who won? Those are the breaks. Without her, there would have been no movie and that’s a fact.