Romeo + Juliet
Susan arranged the interview with Baz Luhrmann. The Nurse in Romeo and Juliet is Shakespeare’s most Dickensian character: energetic and chaotic, funny and tragic all at once. She is the tragedy’s alternative comic heart. While the studio wanted Kathy Bates, Susan and I both knew this was the part I was born to play.
But Baz threw me a real purler when he said, ‘Look, Miriam, [Australians always begin their sentences with the word ‘look’], I’ve got a particular vision for this film; it has to be set in a totally corrupt society; I want it to have the brutality and viciousness of a vendetta. That’s what I want to show, so for my purposes, it’s got to be South American. Do you think you could play the role in a Cuban accent?’
My jaw dropped, ‘Cuban? What do you mean «Cuban»? She was written in Warwickshire!’
He said, ‘Yes, but I want her Cuban. Can you do Cuban?’
I quickly said, ‘Of course I can!’ No actor is ever going to say they can’t do something if they really want the part. And I really wanted the part, and it turned out Baz wanted me. And despite the studio’s strongly expressed preference otherwise, he fought for me and won.
Of course, I didn’t have a clue what a Cuban accent was like — Yorkshire I can do off the top of my head, but who knows Cuban, for God’s sake? I went to the brilliant dialect coach Joan Washington (Richard E. Grant’s wife by the way — he’s a clever lad) and got my Cuban accent up to speed. It was quite a gear-shift to say these lines — ‘Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave!’ — so that they sounded straight out of Havana, but Joan made it work.[20]
Baz was riding high on the success of Strictly Ballroom, his wonderful first picture. But this was a film on an entirely different scale: the budget was over $14 million. He immersed himself in the text of Romeo and Juliet. He shifted Shakespeare’s play from Renaissance Italy to an imagined Verona Beach, full of drug gangs, drag queens and ruthless warlords. As the lovers from two rival business families, he cast Leonardo DiCaprio, a beautiful young actor then aged twenty-one, as Romeo, and Claire Danes as Juliet. Claire’s great quality was her innocence. She wasn’t, apparently, Baz’s first choice, but her vulnerability was heart-rending.
Romeo + Juliet was a huge and important project that became an obsession. That’s how Baz works. And he knew the play back to front. I remember his saying to me when we started: ‘The play is a comedy until the death of Tybalt.’ So he used the brilliant computer guys, who were given their own section in the studio, to shade the tones of the sky in different scenes, to reflect the changing, darkening mood as the play develops. Baz would often leave the set to go to the computers and be shown the various options available.
His partner in life and in the film was Catherine Martin — CM. She’s one of the most remarkable designers I’ve ever known; quiet and unassuming, she’s not a ‘performer’ in any way, but her ferocious imagination is able to call into being the most amazing sets and costumes. CM is Baz’s parallel genius and, to his credit, he knows that.
We flew en masse to Mexico — many of the scenes were shot at the famous Churubusco Studios.
I fell in love with Mexico City. It’s a fascinating, colourful and frenetic place, full of museums, art galleries, concert halls, and a vibrant culture of music and dance and art — and superb restaurants. Fossicking around flea markets, and junk and antique shops, is one of my favourite hobbies and Mexico City is a paradise from that point of view. Everyone on set fell head over heels for Leonardo DiCaprio, from Baz to Claire. I liked him tremendously and admired his work, but luckily I was immune to his groin charms. And I think he might have found that refreshing. He preferred me as a shopping companion. Like me Leo was into bling in a big way. We’d spend hours going through the markets together — I don’t know that I’ve ever had such fun. Now, he’s grown into a fine actor but, back then, he was just a handsome boy who didn’t always wash; he was quite smelly in that very male way some young men are. Sometimes he wore a dress. I said to him: ‘Leo, I think you’re gay.’ He burst out laughing and said, ‘No, I’m not, Miriam. I’m really not gay.’ I insisted, ‘I think you’ll find you are.’ But I was wrong. He did it to be talked about — much as I did when I smoked my pipe at Cambridge.
Of course, he had far more money than anybody else, but he was always generous. He was a kid who wanted to have his young friends around, so he invited them to come and stay at the hotel at his expense. There was a whole group of boys and girls hanging out there, laughing and joking, and he was the leader of the gang. I remember Sara Gilbert (from the Roseanne show) coming to stay. Claire wasn’t invited to join their shindigs however; I guessed she felt a bit left out, but always conducted herself with dignity. Her parents came to Mexico and stayed for the whole shoot to keep her company. They were delightful people.
Baz was completely committed to the project and determined to get every single thing that he’d asked for on his production. For example, he had ordered a huge glass tank of water to be built at the studio at vast expense. In the film, there are some beautiful shots of Romeo and Juliet looking through that tank. One day, while they were filming, it cracked and all the gallons of water poured out. Baz demanded that it be replaced just as it was. The big cheeses from 20th Century Fox had been getting increasingly agitated about the mounting bills, and they came down to the set from LA to remonstrate: ‘We just can’t run with this, Baz. This schedule is way over; you’re going to have to moderate your requests.’ But Baz was implacable: ‘If you don’t give me what I want for this essential scene, I’m walking.’ From that point on, he had free rein. And he was right: that scene with the tank became iconic and is what people remember.
Claire Danes was only seventeen and, just by the way she looked at him, it was obvious to all of us that she really was in love with her Romeo, but Leonardo wasn’t in love with her. She wasn’t his type at all. He didn’t know how to cope with her evident infatuation. He wasn’t sensitive to her feelings, was dismissive of her and could be quite nasty in his keenness to get away, while Claire was utterly sincere, and so open. It was painful to see. When I was binge-watching Homeland later, I kept thinking about her as that lovesick young girl. She was so guileless. Recently, I was in a restaurant and she came up to me and said, ‘I hope you don’t mind my saying hello. We worked together on a film once, I don’t know if you remember me? My name is Claire Danes.’ It was the opposite of the arrogant behaviour of some stars, and so typical of her. I have seen Leonardo since too. We met up when he was in Australia making The Great Gatsby and had a great chat. Also, this time he smelt divine, I’m happy to report.
It could be scary in Mexico City. Our hairdresser Aldo — six foot four and camp as a row of tents — was held up at gunpoint, forced into a taxi then taken outside the city and threatened until he went back to his hotel safe and handed over everything he had. It was highly unusual to shoot a big budget Hollywood movie there for obvious reasons, but it definitely gave the film its strong, exotic flavour and an edge. I loved the people of Mexico. I particularly loved my driver. For Romeo + Juliet I was assigned my own car and chauffeur — I am not always afforded that luxury; it depends how big your part is. I always think drivers are among the most important people on the set, because they’re the first ones you meet in the morning and their attitude to you can make a difference to your day. My driver, Gilberto Pulido Chavez, was heavenly. I loved him; I hope I see him again.
20
I eventually got to play the Nurse in broad Warwickshire in Peter Hall’s production of