Jodie Foster

ACTING THE PART

BY MICHAEL J. BANDLER
PHOTOGRAPHY BY CATHERINE LEDNER

Having basked in the glitter of Hollywood fame for nearly 40 years, Oscar-winning actress .Jodie Foster explains why introspection and maintaining a private existence away from the lens are the keys to success in film and life.

From Panic Room and Flightplan to Inside Man and The Brave One, Jodie Foster’s recent films have been tense, perilous and relentless. But her latest outing, the family film Nim’s Island—which pairs her up with young star Abigail Breslin—is a rollicking adventure tale with an exotic setting and based on a children’s book. Nim (Breslin) lives on a remote tropical island with her scientist father. She relishes the adventure epics penned by Alex Rover (Foster). But Rover, in reality, is an agoraphobic city dweller, as far from courageous as one can be. When Nim finds herself and her father in danger, she emails her writer heroine. Goaded by the series’ fantasy hero, Alex journeys to the rescue, with trepidation, to Nim’s island. A change of pace, you’d think. Not exactly. “I do all these dramas,” Foster says, “many of which deal with fear and the solitary experience of somebody having to become a hero in ways they never knew were possible, and in order to do that, have to be completely alone. That’s the dark version. I realized, about halfway through [shooting] this movie, ‘Oh, my gosh, I’m playing a character who’s having a solitary experience, who’s completely consumed by fear, and learns to be a hero in some ways by activating this part of herself that she never really knew. Oh, my God—I’m doing it again!’”

What drew you to this project?

“I just thought it was great fun. I really wanted to make a movie that my kids could see. I loved the female adventure thing. I can’t remember a time when I saw a girl swing from trees, make her own food, fix a satellite dish— all those things [parents] would want to inspire [their] daughters to do—with that kind of confidence and fun. When I was a kid, I was looking for those kinds of films. They weren’t out there.”

From the trailer, I get the sense it gave you a rare opportunity to be silly.

“That’s true—which is a big part of my personality.”

And it gave you the chance to work with animals.

“It did. But I did have my days at Disney. The sea lions [in this movie] were just amazing. We were just blown away by what they could do. They were such divas—definitely the stars of the movie, so well-trained.”

Where did you shoot?

“We were up near the Great Barrier Reef of Australia, and on Hinchinbrook Island, which I think is the largest landmass island anywhere in that area. There’s absolutely not one person on it—just very small, eco-friendly treetop villas for about 15 people. The crew was brought in on boats every day, and the actors and directors—since we had to be on the set earlier than everybody else—were on the island with absolutely nothing there, the most pristine landscape you’ve ever seen.”

And the fantasy element appealed to you.

“Definitely. I suppose it’s some dream I have. I was raised in LA, and my mom’s a single mom. We spent a lot of time going to movies and eating Asian food, and I’ve never gone camping. Once, when I was making a movie, four of us decided to go to the Grand Canyon, and the park service guys admonished us because we did everything wrong. So this is a big thing for me—being in nature, and making things out of sticks, and having some kind of adventure like that—because I’ve never been able to experience that.”

As a onetime child actor yourself, how was working with Breslin?

“Amazing. She’s a New York kid, a Manhattan kid. In fact, I believe that before she came to Australia to do the movie, she had never actually been in the ocean—maybe to a beach a few times. By the end, she was into it—headfirst in the waves, never wearing any shoes. It was just a different Abigail by the end of the movie. She’s very moving and very in touch with her emotions. It’s wonderful to watch.”

How do your childhood experiences inform or enhance how you deal with these young performers?

“Well, Abigail is very accomplished, with great parents, and doesn’t need to get any advice from me.But you know, there are things I remember from my childhood that I apply. I try to make sure that they have a well-adjusted experience. There were moments in my life when people weren’t very nice, or were insensitive. I tend to be very maternal about safety—wearing helmets, or safety belts.

“I try to apply things about when I was a kid. I didn’t like people to talk about my character or go on and on about the script. I felt it kind of ruined the experience for me, because kids are more intuitive and just want it to be a spontaneous moment. They want to know what you want, without any pussyfooting about. They need to hear: ‘Turn here,’ ‘Move there,’ ‘This is what I want to see.’ When you give them too much preciousness, they start getting nervous.

“I do see all those little insecurities, the little issues I might have had as a child. As you get older, you become more conscious of them. If there was one piece of advice that I learned over the years, that I brought with me, that I think served me very well, it was to compartmentalize my work life from my real life. Either through the influence of their parents or just in their own way, they should understand that the job is a serious job, sometimes fun, sometimes not, sometimes involving learning lines and taking direction, and sometimes putting makeup on and wearing pretty dresses, and sometimes it involves having your picture taken. But ultimately, at the end of that day, you take your makeup off and you come home. And it’s not who you are—it’s just your job. As simple as that sounds, it’s not such an easy lesson for young people.”

What has kept you grounded through all these years?

“Oh, I’m crazy, like everybody. I guess it’s personality, what you’re born with. There are test pilots who are really well-suited to be astronauts because they don’t mind the zero-Gs or being alonefor long periods of time. And then there are some people who just freak out. In some ways, my personality was well-suited for [acting fame]. It’s kind of a bad thing about me, but also a good thing that I can put my emotions aside. I don’t get wrapped up in what people think of me.”

Are you able to let go when you leave the set, or is there an emotional or physical residue that remains with you?

“Of course, when I’m making a movie, I do live with my emotions closer to the surface. So I’m more open in some ways, in ways that I might not be when I’m not working. I know that that’s the workload. And then I have six months off when I don’t live that way. So I have an experience of being those two people, in some ways. But no, I don’t take it home. I feel exhilarated at the end of the day when I do an amazingly dramatic role. The Brave One was the most joyful experience I’ve had acting in a very long time—and here I was, killing people. There’s something about doing something like that that feels meaningful to you and that feels evocative and provocative and that’s about exploring parts of yourself that you’ve been afraid to that is so joyful and feels so right.”

Do you have a litmus test for projects?

“No. I love words. I’ve always loved literature. That’s how I get into a movie—through reading the script. I appreciate a strong visual film. But to me, there’s nothing more provocative than words.”

t’s interesting that about two-thirds of your appearances took place in your early years through college. Obviously, you’ve been very selective over the past two decades.

“Some of it is the nature of the business. You can be more experimental when you’re younger and less well-known. Some of it is just the progression of a creative person. You’ve explored certain areas and don’t feel you want to do them again. So when people offer you the exact same role over and over again, you’re reticent to say yes. Some of it is about having a family. But I have gotten a lot pickier as time’s gone on. It’s not that the roles are awful; there are fewer roles, of course, as you get older. But it’s also that my agenda with acting is very different now. I want to know that it’s going to be something meaningful. If it’s not, I would really rather do other things.”

Like Nim’s Island… “Yeah. Nim’s Island is not what people would normally think of as meaningful for me, and yet lightness is a part of my life. It’s fun to use your face and your body and have a good time.”

Do you think the business is more challenging for kids today?

“Oh, certainly. It’s a totally different world. For young adults, especially, it’s a viper’s nest. It’s always had that; it’s a strange place for an adolescent or post-adolescent to learn how to mature and how to be an adult and learn the consequences and all of that. But the dangers now are so much heavier than they ever were before. And everybody’s watching.”

What have all these characters you’ve played—these adversity fighters—taught you?

“Well, I’m clearly drawn to them, to the idea of how you survive tragedy and find the mettle inside yourself to overcome it. Even though that is a classic heroic journey, it’s not something that’s usually associated with women. And I don’t consider myself a very brave person. In some ways, it allows me to ask, ‘Well, if that happened to me, would I be okay? Would I survive?’”

You also said recently that you feel like an imposter—that the secret of your success is that you don’t always know what you’re doing. What does that mean? “Well, the imposter syndrome is fairly common, a fixture of the Ivy League experience—where you look around and everybody else looks like they know what they’re doing, and you realize you are the only one who doesn’t, and that at some point, somebody’s going to find out. I think that what I was trying to say was that uncertainty, and being willing to make a fool of yourself, and being willing to follow instincts that might seem foolhardy, is what actors rely on. It’s really our greatest strength. And in the middle of that, it feels like you don’t know what you’re doing, and you’re just scared that somebody will find you out.”

When are you least confident: when you’re choosing a role, rehearsing or on the set? Or are you fully confident throughout? “I think the most exhilarating parts of making a movie are the two weeks of prep and maybe the first two weeks of shooting. You’re trying to figure stuff out, and you’re not quite sure, and then you come up with things and change things. You’re honing a character, but also—in my case, something I love to do—you’re telling the story. And that’s your job—to tell the story that the director has in his head that’s his vision. And then from then on, it’s pretty much about the experience.”

You directed Home for the Holidays and Little Man Tate, both in the ’90s. Do you hope to do more directing?

“I do, but I think that’s my greatest shortcoming, that I haven’t been able to direct more than the two films I’ve done. But I hope to in the future.”

How is it we haven’t seen you on stage?

“I love the theater, but it’s not my favorite way to tell a story. I really love the technical stuff. I love the way that movies can change an audience. Here’s my problem: The acting is the least interesting thing for me. For me, the thinking is the most interesting thing—how the technical aspects will intervene with your performance—and organizing the camera moves and thinking how to deliver what you’re looking for. And as much as I appreciate and love and respect and am a part of the emotional aspect of acting, it’s also the most painful part for me. It’s probably really good for me—like cod liver oil—but it’s not what I love the most.”

You were honored recently in Hollywood as a “woman of power.” At the time, you said that you didn’t feel powerful. Aren’t intelligence, insightfulness and savvy some of the building blocks of power—and respect?

“I feel the most powerful thing I have is my vulnerability. That’s what’s really made my mark as an actor. That’s what’s allowed me to continue. The choices that I made were somewhat unpopular in my field at the time. I went after The Silence of the Lambs, but there was almost intervention in my camp. They were like, ‘Look, we know you want to do this movie, but you’re playing second fiddle, and it’s not a good part! You just won an Academy Award, and he’s got the flashy part!’ The voice that in some ways is the most strong to me was saying, ‘I don’t care. This is the story I want to tell. This is something I want to be part of. This is a character I know, and that I believe in.’ The work comes first. That’s what I trust. I really believe in quality. I think that if you go for quality, even though you might be wrong here or there, if you consistently ask that question—‘Is it good, is it meaningful?’—I think you’ll end up ahead in the long run.”

We’re in a different world today—with pseudo-celebrities, paparazzi and the internet in full force—but you seem to stay beneath the radar, and you’re respected for it.
“It’s not that I don’t get followed. It’s just that it’s been such a long career that there may be respect on [the media’s] side, in some ways. And on my side, there is an ability to understand that I want to have a life that feels meaningful and that doesn’t feel trivial, and I’ve come up with a design for living that allows me to do that.”

Are we going to see you in a comedy soon?

“Nim’s Island is kinda funny. I hope so. I love doing comedy. But, I have to say, my heart’s in drama. When I go to Blockbuster, I rent drama.”

You’re moving into that ominous age for actresses. Do you look forward wiThexcitement, apprehension or with a course set out for yourself?
“Well, the first thing my mom said to me was, ‘You won’t work after 16 or 17, so what do want to be when you grow up—a lawyer, a doctor, a writer? Maybe you’ll do poli-sci!’ I got past that. It took me a while to realize that it was my investment, my commitment to it, that was what made it so satisfying and creative. Then her big thing was, ‘You won’t work after 40, so what are you going to do—go back to grad school?’ She was preparing me for the fact that no women had careers after 40, that it would all slow down to a trickle. I was 38, 39—at 39 I started getting busy. I thought, ‘Only one more year—I better start working.’ Then I hit 43, 44, now I’m 45. I’m thinking, ‘Maybe she’s wrong.’”

When you spoke to college graduates at the University of Pennsylvania a couple of years ago, you said, “There’s nothing more beautiful than finding your course as you believe you bob aimlessly in the current.” When during your career did you find your own course?

“I think you look back on what you’ve done, and you realize that a pattern emerges. And the pattern, in fact, is the evolution of your psyche, and that it’s all about coming to understand what you needed to understand. That’s when the work starts getting really interesting—when you’re aware of what you need to learn and what’s fascinating to you. You may not entirely understand why, but you know that there are certain things that are provocative for you. People say to me sometimes, ‘Why do you always do these dark dramas?’ And I say, ‘Because I like them.’ The Brave One, for example, was such an unusual, fascinating journey. I learned so much about myself from that movie, things that I will never shake.”

What did you learn?

“Once you discover the shadow side of yourself that is so much more authentic than anything else you’ve ever lived—as shameful and monstrous as it is beautiful—it necessarily cuts you off from the other humanity. This incredible humanity makes you have to say goodbye to other humans. That necessarily is a solitary experience, and in some ways that is the creative experience. That’s what we’re all searching for, as writers or painters or actors—this craving to have this experience that’s entirely solitary, that’s completely your own and that’s totally about you becoming this authentic being. But it’s also terribly lonely.”

Judging from this interview, you’re a great conversationalist.

“Thank you. When I was a kid, my mom would ask me what I wanted to be when I’d grow up. And I said I wanted to be a professional talker!”