Brenda Vaccaro
Recently played Margo Janus, the sister of Dr. Jack Kevorkian, in the HBO film, “You Don’t Know Jack” opposite Al Pacino (Emmy Award nom.). Ms. Vaccaro made her Broadway debut in “Everybody Loves Opal” (Theatre World Award). Her other Broadway appearances include “Cactus Flower” (Tony nom.); “How Now, Dow Jones” (Tony nom.); “The Goodbye People” (Tony nom.); the female version of “The Odd Couple;” and “Jake’s Women.” Her films and TV includes “Midnight Cowboy” (Golden Globe nom.), “Once Is Not Enough” (Golden Globe award, Oscar nom.), “Airport '77,” “Capricorn One,” “The Pride of Jesse Hallam,” “Supergirl,” “The Mirror Has Two Faces,” “Heart of Midnight,” “Zorro: The Gay Blade,” and “House by the Lake,” “Death Weekend,” “Paper Dolls,” “The Fugitive,” “The Defenders,” “McCloud,” “The Streets of San Francisco,” “The Golden Girls,” “Columbo,” “Touched by an Angel,” “Friends,” “The King of Queens,” “The Shape of Things” (Emmy Award), and “Nip/Tuck.” She has been nominated for an Emmy Award three times, and received a Satellite Award for Best Supporting Actress.
I wanted to congratulate you again on your performance and the recognition you’ve received in “You Don’t Know Jack.”
I think it was wonderful. It makes me very happy when my acting family acknowledges my work, to be recognized by other actors who know what you’re doing, it’s a great honor. I felt very humbled and privileged by the nomination.
I know it’s been a while but would you mind sharing a little about your time at The Neighborhood Playhouse – studying there and then leading to your first Broadway show – how that came about?
Looking backwards I would say I was at the tip end of the best years of the theatre in ‘51-’52, I came into the Neighborhood Playhouse in 1958, after graduating, in ’61, I was on Broadway with Cyril Richard directing me. It was an amazing experience, not well understood by me at the time as much as I understand now. But he was an amazing man. I remember opening night he gave me huge kit gloves. He was a great gentleman. He knew actors, he knew about acting. He wasn’t overbearing a director like George Abbott. When Abbott directed me in “How Now, Dow Jones,” he was a bit overbearing. He said to me, “Why do you use your hands so much.” He was brusque and critical about the way I would say my lines. I said to him: “Are you talking to me?” “Yes, I am.” I walked off the stage.
You also knew Harold Clurman –
He was my best friend. I read for Kazan, and Harold fought for me to get the role I did. I had such a respect for him. He was a great teacher. Harold was willing to tell you everything you wanted to know. He would take me to the theatre. He was vibrant, my mentor.
Among the shows you did at the time: “Cactus Flower,” “How Now, Dow Jones,” and “The Goodbye People” – What did you love the most working on those plays at the time?
You had an audience that was like being in front of a live firecracker – explosive! They were your heartbeat, your barometer, everything!
When you made the leap from the stage into TV and film, and especially “Midnight Cowboy” – did you keep the same approach to the work?
I think the truth is the truth. If you’re gifted, being honest is what you work for – the truth is the truth whether the camera is on you or not. Working on “Midnight” with Jon Voight, Hoffman. Hoffman, what a great actor, I love him.
It was very strange the first day working on “Midnight.” Jon smoked Camel cigarettes all day. I remember we never got that shot until the very end of the day, when we finally got the camera into the room on wooden planks.
My first time in front of a camera was on the TV show, “Naked City.” Alex Marsh was directing, and as the camera moved in, I turned and looked at it. I looked right at the camera. I personally think it’s ominous, like there’s someone else in the room.
You’ve had the great good fortune to work opposite some of our most unforgettable actors including Jimmy Stewart and Olivia de Havilland.
With the most wonderful people. James Stewart was the most adorable, shy, gentle guy, never presuming about anything. I had a little boat, and one day he decided to join me. He had a little suitcase with him. I asked him: “James, what is the suitcase for? “Well, you know, there are things I need, and, well…you never know if you’re ever coming back” He had been a traveling actor once.
Olivia de Havilland didn’t have a dressing room on “Airport ’77,” she didn’t even have a trailer. I asked her if she wanted to use my trailer. She told me: “I’m quite happy where I am. Well, one of the crew guys rigged up a little house for her, they had built this thing for her because they loved her so much. She was so classy and sweet.
What was your audition like for “You Don’t Know Jack?”
I didn’t choose the scenes, Carrie Frazier, the Vice President of Casting at HBO chose them. I worked on them with her, and every time the camera would roll, I would just become the caring sister, always advising Jack, gently matriarchal, so much on his side. I’d kind of see it in the writing. it became an easy flow. She loved him so much.
What makes a good film director?
It can be how they rehearse. For me, with Barry (Levinson), it was how he set the scene up. What a great gentleman he is. I would watch every director I worked with. I watched Mike Nichols direct George C. Scott and Maureen Stapleton, I wondered what he would say. He let the actors do their work. That’s it, it’s a matter of choices and if you leave the actor to do his work he’ll come upon an electric moment and finally say the moment in the best way. Let him do his work, that’s the search, the journey, the seed of the truth.
How important is your preparation on the set?
I work on the different ways I can play it. Have I found what I need? What’s led up to this moment? That’s the constant process; I love the process, working with everyone every day. When we did “Jack,” the car would pick me up at three a.m., and once I got there, we’d rehearse, Al and me. He was kind, loving, always asking questions. Al wanted to talk about things all the time. He’d say: “Lets do it off the page.” It was always about the process. It’s something you either adore but I believe a good actor is always thinking about the different ways you can do it. Why does she say what she says?
It takes 30 years to do it. You never get any sleep when you’re working this way. Al’s so insightful. He’d say: “Let’s not get too sure of ourselves. Remember, these people were in uncharted territory. They had to be nervous.” And I thought, “Wow, what a good thing to remember.” You want to play people. We’d always talked about the scenes, rehearsed them over and over, and change them. Out of improvisations a better line would come. One time, I said, as her, in the improv, “I watched our mother struggle to die.” Al said, “We’ve got to use that.” Things like that come to you. On the set when you’re full of the process, nothing can throw you. You’re ready to do the work even more so than when you’re alone in your hotel room. Life is funny. There are moments that are funny, no matter what. One time Dr. Jack told us that the first time he used the Mercitron…the Mercy Machine, he dropped the sodium penathol on the ground. He told us, “I was so nervous!” Al and I looked at each other. That’s when we told him what Al had said about being in an “uncharted territory.” He said, “You’d better believe we were in an uncharted territory! We were damned nervous!” I think things in live that are serious can have that certain twist because comedy’s sort of the truth twisted a bit.
The scene in Bob’s Big Boy, which is simply tremendous – was it everything you had planned for and hoped for?
I was very pleased with it, I felt I was flying in that scene. My arms are moving, and I’m wondering, as I’m doing it: “Is something wrong? But don’t stop!” When it’s perfect, don’t be scared, just keep going. All of a sudden you realize where you are. If you’re really there, you’re there. In that scene we were flying. We had a general idea where we were going. Al didn’t want to rehearse it. “We’ll rehearse it,” he’d say. “Are you sure?” “Well, yeah.” He’d say. But we never did. I think we talked so much about it, we just did it. We’d have dinner, and he say, “Do the scene with me right now.” “Now?” “Yeah, do the scene.” People in the restaurant would get up and move away, they thought we were really arguing. We’d get the feeling, the energy. The night before we shot it, he said, “Good night. Good luck tomorrow, baby.” And when we got there, Barry said: “You sit here, I was there first. I asked for a paper and pencil, to work on some accounting bills and I waited. Finally Al’s there and then we started the scene, and I looked up at him. He had a different look on his face. He looked angry, and we were off.
You know the scene wasn’t in the script originally. I told, “Barry, they had had a terrible fight, it’s in The Dead and the Dying. So he read it and he said “We’ve got to do it!” But they didn’t have the money but somehow we did it.
The truth is that they had had this terrible argument and they didn’t talk for six months, and soon after that she died. I thought it was important that they put it in, but if it wasn’t for Barry caring so much about the truth, it wouldn’t have happened. Al, of course, said, “We’ve got to do it.”
Were what your feelings about doing a film about Dr. Kevorkian?
I had always thought of him as a hero; a brave person who marched ahead at the forefront in this country for merciful endings. When my mother was dying, it was horrible, I couldn’t let her go, I just couldn’t. I kept fighting to keep her alive. When I came back from Europe and they had her in the hospital, I said, “Mom, they say you’re they say you’re going to come through,” and she said, “No.” “No, Mom, you’ve got nine lives like a cat, you’re going be okay!” “No.” And she never answered me again. I guess she was just tired of me fiddling with her, trying to save her. She was aspirating, and…it was awful. Just awful. That’s the problem, you never understand until you’re in it yourself. But you know, sometimes, in the middle of the night I’d wake up in the middle of the night and think, “What did I do?”
I told him that I thought he carried the banner of truth about the ending. I said, “You know, everybody understands the beginnings and the endings, nobody understands the middle. But you brought a very clear helping hand to the end!”
What would you attribute your strength to?
I think maybe being able to love so much, not closing any doors to life. I guess keeping the doors open all the times even if you fail, the door is still open to succeed. I guess I am so lucky, but I am really honest, and it’s not always easy.•
