Everyone’s favourite on set was Pete Postlethwaite, who played Father Lawrence.[21] It’s a difficult part, long and rambling, and you’re never quite sure where his morality is, but Pete was magnificent. He and Leonardo became great friends. Pete insisted on text study, which wasn’t Leo’s favourite thing but, through Pete’s influence, he became a much better Romeo. They had a beautiful relationship. That’s one of my most poignant memories of that experience. Pete died too young in 2011; I honour his memory.
I didn’t know that it was going to be a great film, but it is. I never watch myself until the films are long over; then, perhaps only years and years later. It’s partly self-preservation, because when you watch yourself, you’re only conscious of the mistakes. Other people don’t see those things; they see the whole scene — the whole film — of which you are but a part. When I watch things that I’m in, I only see myself — the untruths, the fluffs, the double chin. It’s not an accurate response.
When I did eventually watch Romeo + Juliet, I felt unusually satisfied. Even Alec Guinness, who was hard to please, told me, ‘I thought you gave a good performance.’ Baz helped me a lot with the part; the Nurse’s bawdy humour and garrulousness is easy to portray, but she is utterly devoted to Juliet; she was her wet nurse and their bond of trust runs very deep. The Nurse is also deeply pragmatic. She gives Juliet what she sees as solid advice: be practical — the families don’t get on; forget Romeo, don’t mess about with him — you can’t do that; go for a nice boy… take Paris! Now he’s a gorgeous fella — if you go with him you’ll be fine. The Nurse doesn’t have the sensitivity in her soul to see how passionately Juliet is involved, and so she doesn’t recognise its importance.
The Nurse loves Juliet with all her heart, but in the end she lets her down.
Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady’s dead!
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!
And thus the play’s most comic character turns the love story into a tragedy. Forget the leads, it is character actors who are the true engines of plot.
Would You Like to Go to Disney World?
I’ve done several big cartoon features — or ‘animation features’, as they like to call them now — for Disney and DreamWorks. I enjoy animation because of the detail and art involved in creating a character’s voice.
Mulan was made in Orlando, Florida. Of course, I had to audition for the part (that of the Matchmaker) in California. You go to the Disney lot in Burbank, which is much cleaner than some of the studios. Every street on the lot is named after a Disney character — clearly Mickey Mouse is the foundation of their fortunes.
At the audition, you’re shown several drawings of the character you’re attempting to voice. I love that part of it: it’s creative because you’re digging into your repertoire, trying to find the sound which will match the picture. It can take hours, or you can hit on it very quickly.
I was flown down to Disney World Florida to record the Matchmaker. (It was not the first time in my career I had played a matchmaker.) The animation people are totally swept up into the Disney fantasy. And they were sure I’d love a tour of Disney World before we started recording. I’m not one for theme parks, and definitely not one for queuing. I couldn’t believe the long lines of people so desperate to see a mock-up of the Eiffel Tower that they were prepared to queue for two hours or more.
I explained as politely as I could that there was nothing I’d like less. Puzzled, they said, ‘But, wouldn’t you like to see EPCOT? It’s the Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow. It’s a technical, interesting, knowledgeable place, like an encyclopaedia of the whole world.’ ‘How ghastly!’ I replied tersely. They thought I was joking. They just couldn’t believe I didn’t want to go. But when they said we wouldn’t need to queue because I’d be with them, and we could go straight to the front of the line, I decided to give it a whirl.
They hurled me into a phoney space ride, which I was informed would soon be leaving Earth. They were all trying to jolly me along, cajoling me: ‘Oh, come in, Miriam. You’re in a flying saucer!’ I stood there in this ‘flying saucer’, swaying and jiggling. I’m not good on ‘rides’, and I quickly began to feel queasy. I explained to the lady astronaut who was in charge that I needed to get off. She tried to stay in character: ‘Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, the spaceship is on its course now; we can’t deviate and we’re already three miles above Earth.’ I felt her grasp of reality was shaky. ‘If you don’t let me exit immediately, I’m afraid I’m going to be sick on your foot.’ Cue an immediate emergency landing and I was able to get out.
I thought it was one of the most crass and untruthful places I’d ever been to. For example, they have scaled-down replicas of all the great wonders of the world, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Palace of Versailles, the pyramids at Giza and so on. But the Leaning Tower of Pisa hardly leans at all; it’s just ten foot tall. Then, next door to it, they have a restaurant, selling the food produce of the place that you’re looking at: a pizza restaurant next door to the Tower of Pisa; a sushi restaurant next door to a model of Mount Fuji. Visitors go in their tens of thousands and then declare they’ve seen the Leaning Tower. No, of course they haven’t! They’ve seen a reproduction of it in the most vulgar way. I really hated it. And I said I did. I’m afraid I voiced my profound scorn for Disney World.
I did get close to a real spaceship in Florida later, when a space shuttle returned to the Kennedy Center and we were invited to watch it land. At 4 a.m. we sat in the bleachers and this incredibly tiny little space module, so much smaller than I would have imagined, came down from the sky, and then just went bump, bump, bump along the ground right in front of us, coming to rest in the field. From it, four weary white-suited spacemen emerged, a little wobbly. The shuttle didn’t look like a plane, or a rocket — in fact, it resembled a large hair-dryer. I couldn’t believe it had made such a momentous journey.
I did find that exciting. It was real and it beat EPCOT any day. For me, reality is the key. I’m not interested in the phoney. I don’t want it in any part of my life. Disney World is a colossal waste of money. I think it’s shameful — the fake, giant Mickey Mouses; the awful food; the endless queues; the shops full of overpriced junk that, of course, all the children must have so the parents end up bankrupt. Everything pumped up with sugar. The world can be a shit place sometimes.
Harry Potter
I’ve been a working actress for over fifty years so it is a decidedly odd feeling to know that, whatever else I do, however acclaimed or successful I am, I will go to my grave best-known for being Professor Sprout. I acted in those films twenty years ago, but I am still stopped in the street by kids and Harry Potter fans all the time.
My agent Lindy called to say that I was being considered for a part in the second of the series of films and she had scheduled an interview with the director and the producer. She was really excited about it. I was less so: I have never enjoyed, and am not interested in, fantasy or science fiction: as I said, I like reality; I like the here and now.