Los Angeles Magazine Dec, 1999
THE TALENTED MS. BLANCHETT.
Author: Melissande Clarke
AFTER GETTING AN OSCAR NOD FOR HER UNCANNY PORTRAYAL OF
QUEEN ELIZABETH, SHE BYPASSED THE BLOCKBUSTER ROUTE FOR
CHARACTER ROLES AND STAGE PLAYS. BUT AS FAR AS
HOLLYWOOD'S CONCERNED, CATE THE GREAT STILL RULES
WHEN ANTHONY MINGHELLA, writer-director of The Talented
Mr. Ripley, began his search for an actress to play
Meredith Logue, a character with considerably more
impact in the movie than screen time, he wanted someone
"like Cate Blanchett," he says, "someone with her
distinctiveness. But I knew she wouldn't do it." The
part was small, and Blanchett was white-hot--fresh off
Oscar and Lucinda opposite Ralph Fiennes and approaching
a Golden Globe win and Best Actress Academy Award
nomination for her turn in Elizabeth. Why would she want
to take a backseat to Matt Damon, Jude Law and Gwyneth
Paltrow, Ripley's stars? At his agent's urging,
Minghella asked her anyway. He was amazed when she said
yes.
"It told me a lot about her," he says now. "Her compass
is not steering her toward a star vehicle; it's steering
her toward movies and directors who intrigue her."
Indeed, Blanchett has made seven films in the past
two-and-a-half years, playing characters so wildly
diverse that audiences are hard-pressed to recognize her
from one to the next. Meeting her in person is like
viewing yet-another creature altogether. Gone is the
frizzy orange hair of Lucinda; the over-coiffed crown of
Elizabeth; the high, hard do of Connie, her Long Island
housewife in Mike Newell's Pushing Tin. Looking
comfortable in a Sydney, Australia, photo studio, the
slender, 30-year-old Australian actress brushes aside
wisps of damp, blond hair that fall across a remarkable
face, a composition of features that can arrange and
rearrange themselves from goofy to stunning in the blink
of an eye.
She is wearing jeans that give a glimpse of pale tummy
and are fashionably turned up at the hem. Her black
faux-fur vest, worn over a tiny white tee, is by Nicole
Farhi, and her sunglasses have Gucci written all over
them. But be the first to tell her she was nominated one
of People magazine's "50 Most Beautiful People in the
World," and she affects mock relief, saying, "There you
go. I can breathe easy." Blanchett is remarkably
nonchalant about the trappings of fame and her good
fortune. As far as she's concerned, it's business as
usual--she's still seeking out interesting roles; she's
just had a pay raise. "I've come out of working in
theater, where you earn absolutely no money and you
can't pay your electricity bill, to being able to buy a
leather jacket and not having to worry about it," she
says.
Blanchett has just flown in from the Paris set of The
Man Who Cried, a surreal drama directed by Sally Potter
(Orlando) and costarring Christina Ricci ("She's
fantastic") and John Turturro. Blanchett plays a Russian
cabaret dancer and has her first serious love scene
(discounting the soft-focus roll with Joseph Fiennes in
Elizabeth), with Turturro; she found the celluloid
intimacy "something to be gotten through." Which is what
she and her costar did. "We met the day before, had an
afternoon of rehearsal with Sally, and the next day at
seven in the morning, we had to be in bed together," she
says incredulously. "We were looking at one another,
going, `This is the weirdest job. I don't really know
you, and you don't really know me--what are we doing?'"
To the rest of the world, it's obvious: Blanchett is
making quite a name for herself. "She's heart-stoppingly
good," says Minghella. "She's an exhilarating actor." He
had heard as much from Ralph Fiennes (whom he directed
in The English Patient) and from friend Shekhar Kapur
(who directed her in Elizabeth) and had seen it for
himself in her Oscar and Lucinda performance. So when
Blanchett signed on to Ripley, Minghella changed his
script, an adaptation of Patricia Highsmith's 1955
novel, to show her off. "We were all honored she took
the part," he says. The film, set in Italy in the late
'50s, is about an American named Tom Ripley (Damon), who
is sent to Italy to find a compatriot charmer named
Dickie (Law), who has escaped his family to live the
high life with a beautiful woman (Paltrow). Blanchett's
character, whom she describes as "an ingenue who falls
unwittingly, and unfortunately, in love with Ripley,"
does not even appear in the book and was "only a passing
moment of Ripley's experience" in Minghella's initial
drafts. "But having gotten that instrument into the
film," he says of signing on Blanchett, "I wanted to
play it as much as I could."
Shooting in Italy with Oscar heartthrob Damon "was a bit
of a circus," Blanchett says with a laugh. "It was like
working with a rock star." Wherever he went, a ripple of
excitement unraveled the gathered crowds. "At first they
thought he was Leonardo DiCaprio, and they were
screaming 'Leo! Leo!' at him," she says. "And when they
realized who he was, it didn't make any difference."
Blanchett met Paltrow for the first time on the Ripley
set, even though both had been up for the Best Actress
statuette at the Academy Awards this year (Paltrow won)
and were seated only one row apart at the ceremony. "I
can't really recall a lot of the specific details of the
night," Blanchett says. But her scene-stealing John
Galliano gown, with its daring back of netting
embroidered with delicate blossoms and a tiny bird,
showed a newfound wisdom. "A year ago, I honestly
thought you just went to a shop and bought a dress and
that's what you wore," she says, sipping a low-fat
latte. "Honey, it doesn't work like that," her handlers
advised, and a stylist from Elizabeth's Gramercy
Pictures with a bulging contact book and Hollywood
know-how came to the rescue. Which was fine by
Blanchett. "It meant I didn't have to have conversations
about clothes," she says with relief.
SARTORIAL DISTRACTIONS ARE not at the top of Blanchett's
agenda. "Cate is completely about the work," says
Minghella. "She arrives for the work and leaves after
the work, and she's not in the market for anything other
than the work at hand." Fellow Aussie and Elizabeth
costar, Geoffrey Rush, remembers that even while
studying at Sydney's National Institute of Dramatic Art,
Blanchett's focus was generating heat from her
audiences. "I was sharing a house with [drama teacher]
Lindy Davies, who was directing Cate in a final-year
production of Electra," he says. "Lindy had alerted me
that she had an astonishing young woman in her class,
and I went to see the play. Indeed, she was an
extraordinary performer."
Blanchett graduated from NIDA in 1992 and two years
later, at 25, won the Sydney Theatre Critics Circle
Award for her role opposite Rush in David Mamet's
powerful two-hander Oleanna. Ironically, she had
originally considered the play, about a pompous
university professor who is accused of sexual harassment
by an unstable student, "a misogynist piece of crap."
But because it made her so angry, she decided she "had
to do it."
It is a strategy that saw Blanchett rise to prominence
on the Sydney theater scene in record time. She tackled
the roles of Miranda in The Tempest and Ophelia in
Hamlet, earning a reputation as an inventive actress who
wasn't afraid to take risks. In 1996, she made her first
feature film, Bruce Beresford's World War II POW drama
Paradise Road, and managed to stand out in a crowded
cast that included Glenn Close and Frances McDormand.
The word was out. Australian director Cherie Nowlan next
hired Blanchett as the perfect blond bride in her black
comedy Thank God He Met Lizzie not long after seeing her
in a "pretty bizarre play" called Kafka Dances (which
won her another Sydney Theatre Critics Circle Award). "I
couldn't stop looking at her," Nowlan recalls. "She'd
covered her face in white pancake makeup, but I could
see underneath that she was very beautiful. It was a
performance from a pretty original, unusual actor. And,
like everyone else, I thought, `This girl will go
off--it's just a matter of time."
Prescient praise as it turns out. Blanchett's next film,
Oscar and Lucinda, sent her into orbit. Director Gillian
Armstrong had a tough time convincing Fox Searchlight
that Blanchett had the clout to carry a film opposite
Ralph Fiennes, but the end result was a Technicolor
calling card for her female lead. When Kapur saw a promo
reel of Blanchett as Lucinda, the feisty gambler and
all-around fish out of water, he knew he had found his
Elizabeth.
After her Oscar nomination, Blanchett could have hitched
herself to any big-budget vehicle and sped off into the
limelight. But with an Aussie's typical disregard for
protocol, she chose instead to take smaller; more
challenging roles. She perfected her Tri-Borough accent
as Connie in Pushing Tin with John Cusack and Billy Bob
Thornton, and donned petticoats and an English accent as
the indomitable Lady Chiltern in An Ideal Husband with
Rupert Everett. "I love the fact that, after Elizabeth,
she quite consciously went into films that were
ensembles," says Rush, who won 1996's Best Actor Oscar
for Shine. "It suggests that she's laying down a
long-term plan to be an actress, not a star."
Between film commitments, Blanchett squeezed in a season
of David Hare's Plenty at the Almeida Theatre in London.
Her performance divided the critics. "Cate brought this
ferocious energy and almost non-English inner life to
it, and I think that perturbed people," says Rush. "But
it is exactly what the play is saying." The reviews left
a mark. Blanchett is in Sydney for a lightning-quick
visit to attend the opening of Cyrano de Bergerac for
the Sydney Theatre Company; her husband, writer Andrew
Upton, translated the story from the French and wrote
the adaptation. She says she resisted the temptation to
read the reviews (which were raves) of the play. "Part
of me wanted to get all the papers, but after my
experience with Plenty, I decided, `Who's interested in
what they have to say?'"
Blanchett's hectic schedule does take a toll. She is
jet-lagged and doesn't know what day it is. She fossicks
in her voluminous Kate Spade green suede carryall,
unearthing earplugs and a packet of miso soup stashed by
her mother-in-law, with whom the couple are staying in
Sydney. It is this sort of behavior that makes her
husband call her a rodent. "He says I'm a little rat,"
she laughs. "I live in this bag, and I wake up in the
night and start scratching around, pulling out bits of
paper." In fact, the couple, who married in 1997, travel
together as much as possible and have been living out of
"a suitcase the size of a small African village" for the
past two years. The beachside apartment they own in
Sydney is rented out, and home is more often than not a
hotel room or a part-time apartment on the road. As a
result, Blanchett has become "quite phobic about
packing." Recently, when the pair had a two-day
commitment in London, Blanchett couldn't bring herself
to repack. "I freaked," she says. "I couldn't touch the
zip. I said, `I can't do it. I can't do any more
packing.'"
Although the constant traveling is debilitating, having
Upton around restores her sanity. "He's incredibly
supportive," says Blanchett. "I wake up in the morning,
and I can't quite believe my luck." So she found it
particularly difficult when she had to leave him soon
after their wedding to shoot Elizabeth--which she says
was like being at the "helm of a really enormous ship."
"Andrew is a great stabilizing influence, and she missed
him terribly," Kapur observes. "When he's with her, it's
that thing of `He's here now--I'm okay.' He gives her a
great sense of confidence in herself." As does her
family, whom Blanchett prefers not to discuss. Her
mother June, a former school teacher; younger sister
Genevieve, who was the set designer on Cyrano; and older
brother Bob, who is in the computer industry, "are very
individual, special people who I don't want to always be
referred to in reference to me," she says. Her late
father, an American who worked in advertising and met
and married her mother in Australia, died of a heart
attack when Cate was 10. As a child, she wanted to live
in a haunted house on the off chance they might meet up
again.
"The day Dad died, I was playing the piano, and he
walked past the window and I waved good-bye ... and he
died," Blanchett says in Joan Sauers's book Brothers and
Sisters: Intimate Portraits of Sibling Relationships
(Heinemann Australia). "After that, I thought I would
have to kiss everybody good-bye before I left the house.
It was like I had an obsessive-compulsive disorder. I'd
just be going down the street to get some milk, and I'd
do it. If I had to come back in the house because I'd
forgotten something, I'd have to go through the whole
ritual again." That was a long time ago, but at the
Sydney photo shoot, when a visitor leaves, Blanchett
shakes her hand warmly and says, "Drive safely." She
means it.
Blanchett would like to start her own family. "Yes, yes
and yes--sooner rather than later," she says. And this
is one movie star who doesn't give a fig about the
consequences. "Fortunately, my agent in America has two
children, and she's not phobic," she notes. "A lot of
people say, `Imagine what will happen to your body!'"
Perhaps it's a preparatory nesting instinct that has
Blanchett focusing on having a home. And couches. "I was
talking to Christina [Ricci] the other day, and she was
talking about her house and her dogs and the furniture
she's getting from Morocco, and I said, `Do you have a
couch?' She said, `Yeah, we've got a couple of couches.'
And I thought, `She's 19 and she's got a home life.'"
For now, Blanchett must be content with ripping pictures
of sofas out of magazines and squirreling them away in
her carryall for future reference.
At the current rate, it may be some time before she gets
that couch. After finishing The Man Who Cried, she is
set to star in The Gift, cowritten by Billy Bob Thornton
and directed by Sam Raimi. And then she's off to New
Zealand to play Galadriel, the elf queen in director
Peter Jackson's adaptation of Tolkien's Lord of the
Rings. Once again, her appearance will morph. "I'm
tickled," says Blanchett. "I'm being fitted for
prosthetic ears."
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