| Michelle Pfeiffer was born in Midway City, Orange
County, California, near Huntingdon Beach, on the 29th
of April, 1958. Her father, Richard, was a heating and
air-conditioning contractor. Her mother, Donna, was
a housewife, looking after Michelle, her elder brother
Rick, and two younger sisters, Dedee and Lori. Dedee
would become an actress too but, far more flamboyant
than the shy Michelle, would often court controversy,
in 2002 even stripping off and simulating sex with some
fellow in Playboy.
Richard and Donna had moved to California from North
Dakota to escape the fall-out of post-WW2 depression.
Their heritage makes Michelle a mix of Swedish, German,
Dutch, Irish and Swiss ("I'm kind of a mutt",
she's said). Resolutely blue collar and with Richard
a strict authoritarian, they eventually settled the
family in Midway City.
Incredibly, given her professional reputation now,
Michelle was a horror of a child. Attending Fountain
Valley High School, she was constantly ribbed for having
big lips and walking like a duck - taunts that would
make her insecure about her looks well into her thirties.
Nicknamed Michelle Mudturtle (a name she actually rather
likes), she became violently defensive, and a bully.
The biggest in her class and wearing an inappropriately
cute pixie hairdo, she made a habit of bashing everyone,
even the boys, often stepping in to settle other people's
disputes. "I was a rotten kid," she said later
"just rotten. If anyone needed anyone beaten up
they would come and get me". She was "not
terribly feminine" and, believing boys only liked
little girls with ringlets and beatific smiles, was
taken aback in Fourth Grade when she found the most
popular boy in class had a crush on her. Very stubborn,
she'd mouth off constantly, putting on quite a performance
- her mother coming to know her as "my little actress".
Yet Michelle, thanks to disciplinarian Richard, also
had a strong work ethic. She'd help her father clean
second-hand fridges for re-sale and, from the age of
14, lied about her age to get paid work. She worked
in a kindergarten, in a printer's, and in clothing and
jewellery shops, and as a check-out girl for Vons supermarket
chain.
She wasn't much of a student, preferring to hang with
the surfers on Huntingdon Beach. "I was a beach
bunny," she later admitted "into all kinds
of drugs". Very naughty indeed, she wrecked her
first motor, a red '65 Mustang, before she was 16. Nevertheless,
she did OK at school, being one of those who don't have
to try too hard. In fact, she completed in just three
years.
After High School, unsure of what to do, she attended
community college, studying to be a court reporter.
Soon bored senseless, she left but, for two years afterwards,
was still mentally typing out whatever anyone said.
She moved on to Golden West College to study psychology,
but again got bored. She dropped out, came back, dropped
out again. All the while she was working to support
herself in Vons and it was here that she was hit by
Road To Tarsus-style career revelation. She was kind
of interested in psychology, and oil-painting, but she'd
also always enjoyed Drama (for which she'd got a B).
She recalled her teacher, Carol Cooney, saying that
she had some talent, so she decided to go for it.
Her hairdresser had told her that one route to getting
an agent was through Beauty Pageants. She didn't want
to play on her looks - after all, she had big lips and
walked like a duck - but took his advice, had some model
shots done, and entered the Miss Orange County competition.
She won, duly entered the Miss Los Angeles pageant and,
despite losing, acquired an agent - John LaRocca.
Her dad reckoned she'd be a "broken-down housewife
with a kid on each hip" by the time she was thirty.
But Michelle persisted, as she always persists when
told she will not succeed. She moved to Hollywood, working
at Vons there and doing ads for Ford motors and Lux
soap. She attended all the cattle-call auditions, once
trying out as Tiffany Welles in Charlie's Angels (Shelley
Hack got the part) and finally scored a debut in Fantasy
Island ("Eet's the plehn, boss!") as a pretty,
dumb blonde with one line - "Who is he, Naomi?"
Trouble was, Pretty Dumb Blonde was all she ever got,
this terrible period culminating in the TV series Delta
House, which sprang from the hit movie Animal House.
Michelle, credited as Bombshell, got very few lines,
at one point weeping down the phone to her agent - "They're
putting me in hot-pants again!"
Yet she pushed on, renting a place in Laurel Canyon
and acting and singing under the tutelage of the legendary
Milton Katselas. She got a small role in the Earl Holliman-starring
The Solitary Man, and played Susannah York in flashback
in Falling In Love Again. In the meantime, there was
a short-lived TV series, BAD Cats, a kind of LA-set
Dukes Of Hazzard rip-off. Here Michelle played Samantha
"Sunshine" Jensen, a southern belle helping
two renegade cops in the Burglary Auto Detail. And she
was Suzie Q in The Hollywood Knights, a cheapskate American
Graffiti, where a motor gang raise hell at Halloween
1965. Tony Danza starred - not much else need be said.
The next time Michelle played a character called Suzie,
the situation would be VERY different.
So, work was beginning to come, but her personal life
was down the pan. Desperately insecure about herself,
her looks, her talent and the future, Michelle had turned
to a cult for guidance. Dealing in metaphysics and demanding
vegetarianism, they'd certainly helped clean her up
- she no longer drank, smoked or did drugs. But she
was also handing over control of her life and prospects
to them. "I was brainwashed," she said later
"I gave them an enormous amount of money"
- though she did add that she'd rather have depended
on a cult than on drugs or "some lecherous man".
She wanted to leave but, having no confidence in her
ability to live without them, she couldn't.
Luckily, help was at hand. In Michelle's acting class
at the Beverly Hills Playhouse was budding director
Peter Horton. In his first scene with her, he'd thought
"This poor little girl, she's not very good"
- but soon he'd realised what she was doing, working
with her guts, looking for something real. With the
pair beginning to date, he realised her plight and wanted
to help. Coincidentally, he was to appear in a movie
called Split Image, where a kid is enrolled in Peter
Fonda's cult then ruthlessly de-programmed by James
Woods. Researching the part, he travelled to San Francisco,
taking Michelle with him to meet some real-life de-programmers.
Recognising what they told her to be the truth, she
found the strength to leave the cult. But she did cling
to Horton, marrying him in 1981 at the Santa Monica
court house. She was 22, he was 26. Due to dad Richard's
strict regime, Michelle said Peter was "practically
my first proper boyfriend".
Now work really began to pick up, some of it good.
In a remake of Splendour In The Grass, she played Ginny,
bad-girl sister of Bud Stamper (originally played by
Warren Beatty), the object of Melissa Gilbert's affections.
Then came her first stand-out performance, in The Children
Nobody Wanted. Here she played the helpful girlfriend
of Tom Butterford, a fellow who keeps adopting kids
to save them from the perils of the orphanage.
It was now that Michelle really began her inexorable
rise. In 1981, the search was on for a female star for
Grease 2, expected to be the biggest smash of the early
Eighties. Parallels were being drawn with the battle
to play Scarlett O'Hara (though this was hardly in the
same league). Michelle auditioned but really felt she
wasn't up for it, not being a dancer. The director,
however, Patricia Birch, thought she had real grace
and pushed hard and successfully for her inclusion.
So she became Stephanie Zinone, leader of a gang of
bikers' molls called the Pink Ladies who embarks on
a will-they won't-they relationship with Brit new boy
Maxwell Caulfield.
She danced, she sang, she really was pretty good.
But Grease 2 turned out to be a bad experience. First
came the embarrassment of the posters - HUGE posters
- that showed Michelle and Maxwell and yelled "TOO
HOT!!" Then came the fact that the movie was poor
and far from a success. And then she found herself typecast
once more. She was now a sassy blonde rather than a
dumb one, but it was still insufferable for an actress
who was struggling so hard to be taken seriously (by
herself as well as everyone else). Refusing to play
the game, she did not work for a year, instead helping
out Horton - she'd help produce his F. Scott Fitzgerald
video and star in his educational film about the dangers
of drink-driving, as the worried girlfriend of booze-boy
Val Kilmer.
In many ways, times were hard. But then a real meaty
role came along - as Elvira, the coke-addled, ice queen
girlfriend of drug-lord Tony Montana in Brian De Palma's
Scarface, written by the up-and-coming Oliver Stone.
Unfortunately, De Palma had seen Grease 2 and refused
Michelle point-blank. But the producer pushed him to
give her a chance and, onstage in rehearsal, despite
being wholly intimidated by Al Pacino, she won De Palma
over.
Scarface was, of course, groundbreakingly rude and
violent, with men being chainsawed in the bath and hanged
from helicopters. Pacino's swearing smashed all records
as he buried his head in mounds of cocaine and asked
all comers to "Say hhello to ma leedle friend!"
And Michelle was superb. Absolutely pristine, she embodied
the wealth these wicked men sought. And sullen, frustrated
and bombed out of her skull, she was also a paragon
of female pain. Her raging bathroom arguments with Pacino
were hard to witness - so real it almost felt as if
we were intruding.
But, despite her performance and the massive controversy
surrounding Scarface, Michelle would have to wait for
real stardom. Continuing to study under Peggy Feury,
she moved on to Into The Night, a slapstick comedy-thriller
by John Landis, where she burst into the life of unhappy
insomniac Jeff Goldblum and, as she's an emerald-smuggler
being tracked by hit-men, led him on a wild night-time
chase. She'd become friends with Landis and he'd direct
her and Horton together in a segment of the skit-movie
Amazon Women On The Moon (Horton would also direct a
segment).
Then came the mediaeval romance Ladyhawke where she
and lover Rutger Hauer were cursed by an evil bishop
so that she'd be a hawk by day and he'd be a wolf by
night. Sneaky thief Matthew Broderick helped them in
their fight for true love. Filmed in Italy with Michelle
having to act with wolves, there was some challenge
here, but she was mostly required to be beautiful -
something she actively loathes. "Just standing
around looking beautiful is so boring," she's complained
"really boring, so boring".
Her next part was more beefy, in Alan Alda's Sweet
Liberty. Here Alda played a historian whose book on
the American Revolution is to be made into a film (and,
of course, entirely re-written). Michelle played the
eccentric, enigmatic lead, with whom Alda becomes besotted.
And then came something of a breakthrough - The Witches
Of Eastwick. Here Michelle played Sukie Ridgemont, a
small-town journalist and single mum. Lacking any excitement,
she gets together with equally unfulfilled buddies Susan
Sarandon and Cher to conjure up the perfect man. And
up he pops in the shape of Jack Nicholson as Daryl Van
Horne , a rich man, consummate seducer and, quite possibly,
the Devil. Liberated by his attentions, they discover
their own innate power and, finally, banish him.
Michelle remembers the filming as difficult, mostly
because the studio were intent upon turning John Updike's
treatise on freedom into a feast of special effects.
But Nicholson, she said, held everyone together, keeping
calm and organising impromptu rehearsals in his hotel.
Michelle had further problems in that her marriage to
Horton (now Professor Gary Shepherd in thirtysomething)
was breaking up. They had grown away from each other,
particularly as her confidence was higher and she no
longer needed controlling. And the split was amicable
- he even helped pack her car. But it still hurt like
hell.
Michelle moved on to take a course in mediaeval philosophy
at UCLA and, onscreen, stepped up to headliner. First,
on TV, she played Natica Jackson, a famous but lonely
30's actress who fell for a married chemist and suffered
the outrage of society and eventual tragedy (unsurprising
as the story was based on the work of John O'Hara).
Her reviews were tremendous, but there was more to come.
Michelle fancied playing a brunette in a "dingy
role" and tried for the lead in Married To The
Mob. Director Jonathan Demme didn't want her so she
left for Italy (she'd loved it while filming Ladyhawke),
only to be told they wanted her after all. So she spent
time on Long Island, picking up that hilarious, whining
accent, and stole the show as Angie DeMarco - quickly
the widow of murdered gangster The Cucumber. Trying
to leave the Mob and neighbourhood, she's drawn back
by the romantic attentions of Dean Stockwell as Tony
"The Tiger" Russo. It was a comic tour de
force with Michelle perky, harassed, courageous, vulnerable,
and very sweet on her dates with undercover cop Matthew
Modine.
Nominated for a Golden Globe, Michelle was now on
her way. She joined the all-star cast of Dangerous Liaisons,
playing the honourable, married Madame de Tourvel who
becomes the subject of a bet between wicked ex-lovers
Glenn Close and John Malkovich. For a night with Close,
Malkovich must seduce Michelle. He struggles but pulls
it off, at the cost of falling in love with Michelle,
whose terrible distress at her actions touches even
his cold heart. It certainly touched the Academy, which
nominated her for an Oscar. Michelle and Malkovich would
have a short fling in real-life too.
Next came Tequila Sunrise, where she played a restauranteuse
caught between drug-dealer Mel Gibson and cop Kurt Russell.
She said later that she did not enjoy the experience
much as director Robert Towne (writer of Chinatown)
did not allow freedom of expression. She was also uncomfortable
at having to appear nude - this was only the second
time she'd done so, after Into The Night.
Now, in 1989, came another killer role, as Susie Diamond
in The Fabulous Baker Boys, a part turned down by Madonna
for being "too slushy" (she's never been able
to pick 'em, has she?). Here Jeff and Beau Bridges played
a piano-duo who try to shake up their act by bringing
in a singer. Susie is an ex-escort who learns fast,
and Michelle was at her absolute sexiest, slinking all
over Jeff's piano while lip-synching to her own version
of Makin' Whoopee in a scene that's often described
as one of the biggest male turn-ons in screen history.
It won her a Golden Globe and an Oscar nomination and
a billion male fans.
Keen for yet more of a challenge, Michelle now took
to the stage. Despite having only done it once, in a
small role in a 1981 production of Playground In The
Fall, she appeared as Countess Olivia in Twelfth Night,
alongside her former co-stars Jeff Goldblum (Into The
Night) and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio (Scarface). There
were crowds of 2000, scathing reviews, and she kept
on till she was excellent. The woman has cajones of
titanium.
And quite deservedly, on Twelfth Night she found love,
with actor Fisher Stevens, playing Sir Andrew Aguecheek.
People thought him a little geeky for such a great beauty
but, hey, Arthur Miller managed it. They'd remain a
couple for some three years.
Next Michelle moved on to John Le Carre's spy thriller
The Russia House, sometimes filming at 20 below, and
being Golden Globe nominated once more. She turned down
a few parts, too. There was Bugsy, a part taken by Annette
Bening, who'd end up marrying star Warren Beatty (this
turned out to be extremely advantageous for Michelle).
There was Thelma And Louise and, because she felt too
ill-educated, there was Lorenzo's Oil, both of which
brought Oscar nominations for Susan Sarandon. Because
she thought it might glorify violence, there was Silence
Of The Lambs (Oscar for Jodie Foster). There was Basic
Instinct (she asked for the sex to be toned down but
was refused), Sleepless In Seattle, which she found
silly, and Disclosure. And later there'd be Evita. Michelle
actually worked for months on Evita but dropped out
when director Oliver Stone withdrew and the production
was moved from LA (by this time Michelle had a family).
Instead Michelle had involved herself in the production
of Love Field, where she'd play a Dallas housewife who,
obsessed with Jackie Kennedy, witnesses JFK's assassination
and takes off on the bus to Washington. Along the way,
chased by her hubbie and the police, she becomes friends
with a mysterious black man and his daughter. It was
all a bit of a pain. Denzel Washington had pulled out,
filming-time was brief and then Orion got into financial
difficulties, meaning the film was shelved, and then
received only the most cursory release. But at least
Michelle was Oscar-nominated again, alongside Sarandon
for Lorenzo's Oil.
Next, she reacquainted herself with Al Pacino in Frankie
And Johnny, playing a waitress who's disappeared into
tedium and cannot be touched - until she's gradually
won over by Pacino, an ex-jailbird now working as a
chef. Many complained that the couple weren't dowdy
enough, and Frankie should have been played by Kathy
Bates, who'd starred onstage. But great pains were taken
to make Michelle look less pretty, many scenes being
re-shot to cast her in a more unflattering light. Her
hardest scene, though, was the one where she finally
opens up to Johnny, baring her breasts. As said, Michelle
is no Demi Moore when it comes to flashing the ass and
got tremendously nervous. So much so that the takes
were endless, with director Garry Marshall eventually
issuing the crew with teeshirts proclaiming "I
survived Scene 105". Once more she was nominated
for a Golden Globe.
And now came the major breakthrough. She'd been well-known
since The Witches Of Eastwick, but Tim Burton's Batman
Returns made her a mega-star. This is where Michelle's
refusal to do Bugsy served her well. Though Sean Young
was marching around Hollywood in a rubber suit, yowling
for the role, the part of Catwoman had gone to Annette
Bening. But Bening fell pregnant by Warren Beatty and
had to pull out, leaving the way open for Michelle.
And, Christ, did she carpe diem. Taking up kick-boxing,
yoga and weight-lifting, and learning to wield a whip
with erotic precision (that's her beheading dummies
in the movie), she made a scintillating Catwoman. And
just as good was her Selina Kyle, mousy secretary to
Christopher Walken's corporate swine, who gets bullied
and thrown to her death from a window, only to be re-animated
by the breath of stray cats and transformed into a rubber-clad
font of righteous female vengeance.
She was thrillingly good, a true match for Danny DeVito's
wonderfully disgraceful Penguin. And she brought some
fire to her relationship with Bruce Wayne. Michelle
had actually dated Michael Keaton, having met him in
a supermarket back in the late Eighties. But he had
been busy being Batman and she's had left for Dangerous
Liaisons so they'd split.
On she went to Scorsese's The Age Of Innocence, as
Countess Ellen Olenska who, having left her abusive
hubbie, is ostracised by late 19th Century New York.
Comforted by Daniel Day-Lewis, the pair begin a love
affair that will destroy him too, if discovered, so
she protects his position by ending it and dooming them
both to loveless respectability. Michelle was perfectly
regal, with a simmering undercurrent of passion - a
tremendously controlled performance. And all the better
because she never expected it. Michelle had been trying
to work with Scorsese for years, but had received no
reply, coming to the conclusion (and this is SO Michelle)
that this intellectual director must think she was rubbish.
But Scorsese had been a fan since Married To The Mob
(well, he was BOUND to love that accent, wasn't he?)
and was just waiting for the right part for her. He
was right, yet another Golden Globe nomination came
her way.
Michelle was now big news. And, having reached the
summit of her profession, she decided to do something
about her empty private life, making arrangements to
adopt a baby girl, soon to be born to a New York nurse
who already had four children and could not afford another.
And - naturally, for Sod hath decreed it - two weeks
later she met David Kelley.
Kelley had been a Boston lawyer who'd quit to write
for LA Law. Then came his own series, Picket Fences
and a whole slew of mighty successes like Chicago Hope
and Ally McBeal. Michelle was set up on a blind date
with him but, not wanting to be alone with the guy,
changed it to a bowling excursion with a group of friends.
Both being shy, they said little to each other, but
Kelley called later and invited her to a screening of
Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula. They began dating, and
then the former Bombshell dropped the bombshell about
the adoption. Kelley was thankfully supportive, so soon
Michelle was off to New York to see her baby born.
Invitations went out for the christening of Claudia
Rose in November, 1993. Days beforehand, Michelle called
the invitees to tell them it was in fact a wedding,
as so it was. Later that afternoon, the child was christened
Claudia Rose Kelley. And, immediately, Michelle fell
pregnant. Having made Wolf, where she played the rebellious
daughter of a publishing magnate, falling for underling
Jack Nicholson who's unfortunately turning into a werewolf,
she moved on to Dangerous Minds. Here she was an ex-marine,
now teaching in an inner-city school and having to win
over a classroom of seriously suspicious kids. It was
a big hit, promoted by Coolio's Gangster's Paradise
(she appeared in the video). But it was a tough shoot,
Michelle being six months pregnant AND working on the
soon-to-be-ditched Evita. More difficulty followed when
Michelle had a suit brought against her by Claudia Rose's
father who claimed he'd given some ideas to Michelle
when they'd met - ideas she used in Dangerous Minds.
In August, 1994, John Henry Kelley was born.
Michelle battled to give her kids a "normal"
upbringing, but kept working. Next came Up Close And
Personal, the true story of Jessica Savitch, the first
news anchor-woman. Here she played an ambitious woman
whose rise to fame is paralleled by the fall of her
lover and benefactor, played by Robert Redford. She
made a brief appearance as the ghost of Peter Gallagher's
wife in To Gillian On Her 37th Birthday, written by
Kelley. And then she starred alongside George Clooney
in One Fine Day, an excellent romantic comedy where
they played a couple of single parents whose lives are
suddenly intertwined.
Michelle served as executive producer on One Fine
Day, and producer of her next project, A Thousand Acres.
This - a little like King Lear - saw three sisters battling
it out on an Iowa farm, with Jason Robards as the father
and Jessica Lange and Jennifer Jason Leigh as Michelle's
sisters. Next came the fraught The Deep End Of The Ocean,
where Michelle loses her youngest son in a crowd and,
much to her painful distress, he cannot be found. Years
later, with the family moved to a new town, she sees
him - or thinks she does...
After this, Michelle, renowned as the most beautiful
actress in the world, took her rightful place as Titania,
Faery Queen, alongside Rupert Everett's Oberon in A
Midsummer Night's Dream, with Kelley's main star Calista
Flockhart also appearing. Then came Rob Reiner's sweet
and touching The Story Of Us, where Michelle and Bruce
Willis were a married couple out of love after 15 years.
Looking back over their relationship in flashback, they
seek to re-find each other.
Then came another step into the unknown. Most Hollywood
actresses begin their career in horror movies. Michelle
waited 20 years for What Lies Beneath, playing the wife
of scientist Harrison Ford (this was Ford's first big
bad-guy role, only taken for the chance to play beside
Michelle). Wandering round their big house, she begins
to suspect weirdness and foul play from the neighbours
- but the truth is far more horrifying and much closer
to home. This was another shoot that gave Michelle problems,
mostly because of the bath scenes, which took weeks,
meaning she had to be covered in petroleum jelly to
stop her skin being ruined. As someone who's scrupulously
clean, often bathing twice a day, Michelle found the
experience utterly gross. If the multiple baths sound
odd, Michelle has publicly described herself as obsessive-compulsive,
perfectionist and selfish (in her career), with a terrible
fear of being discovered to be un-talented.
Now came I Am Sam. Here Sean Penn played a father
with a mental age of seven, whose daughter is taken
and put up for adoption. Desperate to keep her, he wangles
the services of a flash, none-too-pleasant lawyer (Michelle),
along the way teaching her the meaning of love. Then
came a love story of a different kind in White Oleander.
Here Michelle played a poet jailed for poisoning a lover
who breaks her heart. Her daughter, meanwhile, is sent
from one foster home to another, seeing much that is
good, bad and downright strange about this world. All
the while, mother and daughter keep in contact through
letters.
Michelle Pfeiffer seems to have life down. She takes
her children on set with her, finishing work early to
ensure she can make their dinner. She works on her family
life, recognising that it is the most important thing
to her. Having had a niece who suffered leukemia for
ten years (and having smoked herself for many years),
she supports the American Cancer Society, as well as
the Humane Society. She has a right to feel pleased
with herself. After all this time, the check-out girl
from Vons who was forced into dumb blondeness has grown
into one of the most respected actresses of her, or
any other generation. She is, quite simply, magnificent. |