Michelle Pfeiffer

She had to have been a couple of years out of high school when I met her in Vons (it's a clothing store now) and I was only in El Toro by chance. When I saw her at the supermarket, there was a difference. Something had happened in there. I don't know if it's because she tried some other things. She had this steely look of determination. She looked at me, and she says, 'I'm gonna be an actress.' And I remember telling her, 'Now, Michelle, a lot of people have agents and wanna be an actress and...' And, 'No, no.' She told me there was this movie with Tony Danza, The Hollywood Knights. She was just trying out for it, and she thought she might have a chance for it. I give her that look, 'Now, Michelle.' I don't know. You'll see a kid coming through that'll tell you, 'I'm going to be a doctor.' They're just hell bent, they're sure that's what they're going to do. Nothing stops them from doing it. And some kids do that. And then I get a call, 'Hey, you gonna be in your room today?' And they come back, and they've just gotten their law degree from Harvard or something. And it's usually one of those kids who has that look. And she had that look... I was a single parent, and I was ironing at two o'clock in the morning. That's when I do my ironing and catch my breath. This movie comes on, The Hollywood Knights, and I'm thinking, trying to figure out where I heard that name. And I'm watching, and then Tony Danza and his girlfriend come by. And you do a double take. I go, 'Michelle?' Well, she got the part. I couldn't believe it. I'm thinking I got a student who got a role in a movie. Good for you. I'm watching it. You know, you're kind of proud of her. And there she is. It was a little role but she was good in it.

'She's the blonde in Scarface,' they say to me about Michelle Pfeiffer. Now her I know. She made this year's great movie entrance, descending, back to camera, in the glass elevator of a drug czar's Florida mansion, wearing a green satin evening dress that seemed about to fall off her. Rarely in a movie have I seen an actress so perfectly groomed, so coolly elegant. There hasn't been a platinum-blonde star for a long time, and I waited, fascinated, to meet her. She is on the verge of stardom. In the parlance of the industry, she is hot. She is appearing in one hot movie, has another coming out, and others await only her availability to begin shooting. 'Hello,' she said, when she arrived. 'Hello,' I replied, trying to zero in on the unfamiliar face... and then it registered: Michelle Pfeiffer is, alas, no longer blonde. She became blonde for the role. Nor is she a fashion plate. In fact, she has absolutely no interest in fashion or chic. Like Garbo, who cared nothing for such trappings either, she took on the accoutrements that went along with the part, so convincingly that I had assumed the end product was the starting point — the reason she had been cast in the first place.

For any actress to make the transition from Catwoman to Ellen Olenska would be impressive, and that Pfeiffer succeeds here as she did in her last film is the most conclusive proof yet of her widening talents.

This is one of the movies they will use as a document, years from now, when they begin to trace the steps by which Pfeiffer became a great star. I cannot claim that I spotted her unique screen presence in her first movie, which, I think, was Grease 2, but certainly by the time she made Ladyhawke and Tequila Sunrise and Dangerous Liaisons and Married to the Mob, something was going on. This is the movie of her flowering — not just as a beautiful woman, but as an actress with the ability to make you care about her, to make you feel what she feels. All of those qualities are here in this movie, and so is the "Makin' Whoopee" number, which I can only praise by adding it to a short list: whatever she's doing while she performs that song isn't merely singing; it's whatever Rita Hayworth did in Gilda and Marilyn Monroe did in Some Like It Hot, and I didn't want her to stop.

I always look at it as — it's like a treasure map, and each little detail in it, you sort of look at it for information and it points you in the right direction, to tell you where you need to go. You start out with a few choices, obviously — I need to learn the clarinet or I need to learn the cello, or I need to learn how to stay underwater without panicking — but it is like painting in a way, that at a certain point, the painting begins to tell you what to do. And with acting, it's the same — with acting in film, anyway — at a certain point then, what you've already put on screen begins to dictate to you where you need to go, and then it just starts to create itself in a way. And what I try to do is find a strand of myself, as different as I might feel the character is from me, and as removed as it is, I always try to find that one part of me. And then you kind of build on to that, because it's a way to keep you connected. And you never want to lose that connection. There's always some sort of parallel that's going on in my own life, and so you can use it to, you know, bring closure, perhaps, to certain things that you haven't. A healing, a reconnection. And I believe in that. I believe in that.

You know, I look like a duck. I just do. And I'm not the only person who thinks that. It's the way my mouth sort of curls up or my nose tilts up. I should have played Howard the Duck.

For Pfeiffer, in a year that has seen her in varied assignments such as Married to the Mob and Tequila Sunrise, the movie is more evidence of her versatility. She is good when she is innocent and superb when she is guilty.

Pfeiffer in particular takes the sort of glamorous yet preposterous part that generally defeats even the best actress and somehow contrives to make it credible every inch of the way.

Alda's best-written character in the movie probably is Faith Healy, the sexy actress played by Pfeiffer. Her performance uses some wonderfully subtle touches, as she moves back and forth between her historical character and her distinctly more cynical modern one.

So I do the test, and we do this scene, and it's the scene at the end where I throw dishes, and so I threw some dishes... and 'Cut!'... And I look around, and there's blood everywhere, because I broke a plate or something, and they're all checking me — 'Oh my God, she cut herself' — and couldn't find any cut, and then I look, and I realise. I see Al's hand is bleeding. And I cut Al Pacino, in my screen test. I think then he liked me. I think that was actually the turning point.

Basically, she's a character actress... I think that's a strength. She's someone who will endure because she'll find characters to play. And she happens also to be a leading-lady type, which is, I guess, glamorous. She has both... I mean, is someone doing what they should be doing? That's the question.

That would have to be the F-word. Do you want me to say it? It's so descriptive, it can be used in so many ways — it can be used lovingly, it can be used in the most hateful — it's just very versatile... and you know, it's just, sometimes no other word will do.

It's usually just awkward. It's not terribly romantic or steamy. Sometimes people's wives show up — "Hey, how you doing?"... I had a wedding scene with someone once, and the girlfriend showed up in a white dress...