The Alley of Love and Yellow Jasmines (28 page)

What I had learned from our encounter was invaluable. Never try to look like your character, leave some room for the director’s imagination. Turn yourself into a blank canvas ready to be painted on. Give him the pleasure of discovering you rather than finding you.

The following morning I washed my face, put on jeans, and gathered my hair in a loose ponytail. I had no intention of using my shiny black hair as a dramatic tool to make the director cry.

Jaleh and I went back to the studio. The people in the room included Michael London, one of the producers of the film; the director, Vadim; and Debora and her cameraman. They were sitting around an oblong Formica table with Debora facing me and the cameraman next to her, taping my audition. Debora asked me if I needed to take pauses between scenes, and I said that I would rather not. Taking a pause would have distracted me. I needed to stay in character.

Debora started reading the lines with me, and I went into a trance, using all my power to forget where I was and who was there. I was imagining Nadi in a house with her family, responding to her husband’s demands while trying to teach her son how to be a gentleman. I was sitting next to a wall and used it as an imaginary door.

In scene one, Nadi is in the kitchen, brewing tea, trying to teach her son how to be kind to the woman (Kathy) who has crashed on her son’s bed in their house, which was once hers.

In scene two, Nadi is waiting for Kathy to join them for dinner, but Kathy does not leave the bathroom. Nadi knocks on the door a few times and then opens it to find that the woman has attempted suicide. Nadi saves the woman.

In scene three, Nadi blames her husband, Colonel Behrani, for the incident.

In the final scene of the audition, Nadi finds out that her son is dead. Staring at her husband’s bloody shirt, she cries silently.

Pretending Debora was Colonel Behrani was easy, since she was whispering the colonel’s lines and I kept staring at her shirt, imagining a trace of blood on it, as was mentioned in the script.

I was not forcing myself to cry. I was just trying to stay in that tragic moment when Nadi becomes aware of her son’s death and, without admitting the truth through words, starts crying silently, still in a state of denial. It worked. I ended up crying silently, not daring to look up. Then I heard applause. It was Vadim. I looked over at him and gave him a devilish half smile and a wink, which he ended up including in the DVD extras for the film.

Vadim walked toward me. He bent down and kissed my forehead, whispering, “Welcome aboard.”

I cried hard when I left the room. Poor Jaleh thought something must have gone wrong.

“What happened? Did you get it?” she asked.

“Yes, I got the role,” I replied.

“Why are you crying then?” she said.

“Because my life is going to change,” I answered.

I was now on my way to Hollywood for real.

I EVENTUALLY DISCOVERED
that Ben Kingsley, my idol whom I had seen perform in London, would play my husband, and that the lovely and talented Jennifer Connelly would play Kathy. Jonathan Ahdout, a handsome young man of fifteen, would play my son.

We shot the film in Malibu, except for the fog scene, which was shot in San Francisco. Every morning at five, I would be driven to the set, either to the DreamWorks studio lot or to a home on the hills, overlooking the ocean.

We each had our own trailer, but Jennifer and I became friends and often spent our downtime together, either chatting or playing games. Our favorite was a game called “Off the Cliff.” We would give each other three random names of popular Hollywood actors, and we had to choose which one we would enjoy sharing our bed with, which we would marry, and finally which we would send off the cliff.

Later on Ben Kingsley and I would play charades as we traveled through the United States to promote the film. On set, he was very much a method actor, staying in character.

The film came out in December 2003 to much acclaim. Oprah even did a segment on her talk show about the movie. I was unable to make it, as I was working in Baltimore on a pilot, but I would have loved to meet Oprah, to whom I owe my success for introducing me to such a powerful book.

I WAS FIRST
nominated for an Independent Spirit award for my supporting role in
House of Sand and Fog
, followed by the Critics’ Choice award and the Los Angeles Film Critics Association award.

I was ecstatic when I heard the news of being nominated for an Independent Spirit award, and was shocked when my name was called out at the ceremony. One of my favorite actors, Forest Whitaker, announced my name—and did a perfect job in pronouncing it.

I could not believe my ears and was fixated on Vadim, my director. He smiled, and I looked at Houshang, then I heard Sir Ben saying, “It is you, my dear. What are you waiting for?” And I raced to the stage to receive my award, a bronze eagle on a carved pedestal, its wings proudly stretched to its sides, ready to fly.

Having received three awards for my performance in
House of Sand and Fog
led some people to believe that I was going to be nominated for an Oscar, too, including my husband. He and Jaleh stayed up all night waiting to hear the announcement of the nominees on TV at five-thirty in the morning.

Jaleh and Houshang had asked me if I wanted to stay up with the help of dark Persian tea to hear the result. But I told them I would rather go to sleep and act as though nothing was happening. If I was nominated, I was told a car would be waiting outside my house at 6:30
A.M.
to take me to a hotel, where I would spend the rest of the day giving interviews to the media. I wanted to sound coherent and look rested in the morning. I also had no intention of letting things go to my head. What if I were not nominated?

I went to sleep early that night and was in a deep sleep when I heard Houshang whispering, “Wake up, you got it.”

At first I thought I was dreaming. Then I heard all the phones in the house start ringing simultaneously, and I knew it was true. A longtime dream had come true, and I was spellbound. I was also pleased to hear that Ben Kingsley had been nominated for best actor.

I was honored and overwhelmed by the idea of opening the doors for hundreds of Middle Eastern actors who until now were bound to portray stereotypical terrorist roles most of the time.

One of the best experiences leading up to Oscar night was a delicious, unforgettable lunch with three of my favorite actresses, my fellow nominees Holly Hunter, for
Thirteen
, Marcia Gay Harden, for
Mystic River
, and Patricia Clarkson, for
Pieces of April
. Holly had kindly invited all of the supporting actress nominees, including Renée Zellweger (
Cold Mountain
) to get together a few days before the event.

Holly was staying at a nice hotel in Beverly Hills. I arrived there at one o’clock sharp and was ushered to her suite. Holly opened the door and invited me in; she was even more beautiful than in her films. Her outstanding performance in
The Piano
had already garnered her a best actress award in 1993.

Marcia Gay Harden’s extraordinary performance in
Pollock
had earned her an Oscar in 2000. And Patricia had been critically acclaimed for her work, but I never had the pleasure of meeting her before our lunch at Holly’s.

They all had tremendous presence, welcoming voices, and warm eyes. I was happy to see they were as friendly as I am. We spoke about films and ourselves, with our hands in the air and our theatrical voices echoing throughout the room.

Around two in the afternoon, Holly asked us if she should go ahead and order food or wait for Renée. We all looked at each other, and I asked her if Renée had called to say she was running late. Holly said that she had never even received a response from her.

I looked at Patricia, then Marcia, and then back to Holly again and said, “Well, she could at least have called you. Don’t you think?”

Holly turned red and whirled around. She called room service and dodged the obvious question to avoid further discussion concerning her rude guest.

I ONCE GAVE
an interview to Radio-Sedaye-Iran in 1986 regarding my role in
Rainbow
, Kardan’s play that we brought on tour to America. The host asked if I would one day consider living in L.A. and working in Hollywood. I said I wished God would hear him. He then asked me what I wished would happen to me in Hollywood, and I said I wished I would be nominated for an Oscar.

Here I was now, eighteen years later, nominated for an Academy Award. I gave interviews to prominent media people and attended magnificent galas and parties, including the Academy’s famous night-before-Oscar party with my family beside me.

I got to tour couturiers and fabulous jewelry shops, received gifts, and was pampered by great beauty experts at fancy hotels, all also a part of this delightful ride.

I did not believe that I would receive that Oscar. I knew that neither the Academy nor my peers had seen my body of work and that the chance was slim. But there I sat, my heart pounding in my chest.

“And the award for best supporting actress goes to . . . Renée Zellweger!”

I was happy for her because I was just a newcomer. I could see Nicole Kidman and Catherine Zeta-Jones applauding wildly as they stood from their seats.

THE GOVERNOR’S BALL
dinner party is the first place it seems everyone goes after the Oscars. We then moved to Elton John’s party, followed by the prestigious
Vanity Fair
gala thrown at Morton’s with Hollywood’s elite. Early the next morning, I was happy to be under my covers again and fell into a sweet sleep.

The fairy tale would end and I would soon return to Earth.

40

Hollywood

I
n the following years, I would be working with a handful of great actors and filmmakers in more than a dozen films and TV series, such as
Smith
,
Will and Grace
,
ER
,
Law & Order: SVU
,
Portlandia
, and
NCIS
(with the dashing Mark Harmon).

Working with Laura Linney in
The Exorcism of Emily Rose
was a blast. She was witty, energetic, humble, and friendly. I loved her acting even before I had started working with her. But I love her even more now, having seen her at work.

In 2005, I had one of my most memorable experiences working with two of Hollywood’s biggest yet humblest stars, Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves, in
The Lake House
.

The movie was shot in Cook County Hospital in Chicago. It was a huge facility and had permitted us to film in one of its empty wings. My first scene was with Sandra Bullock. I played Dr. Anna Klyczynski, and she played Dr. Kate Forster. In the scene, I am giving her advice about work and life.

“Take a vacation,” says my character. “Get away from it all, and think what is best for you.”

The two of us rehearsed the scene for the director and the camera, and I kept buttoning my white uniform during the scene. It was a bit tight at the chest, and its buttons kept popping out of place. Sandra looked at me and said, “Didn’t you try on the uniform in the fitting sessions?” I said I did, back in L.A., but I figured I was portraying a doctor and not a model, so I added a few pounds to look ordinary. She laughed and said, “Aha, I know what to say to my butt next time I gain weight.” She was tireless, happy, fun, and caring. We spent a lot of time talking about life and love.

Keanu was quiet, extremely polite, and a bit shy. He was always on time if not early. He never dashed in or out with his entourage after a shot, like some stars at his level do. He never left the scene, not even during the changing of the lights. He just grabbed a chair and sat close by the set with his hands crossed on his lap and his head down. It was as if he was in a body posture that insisted on privacy.

Keanu and I were in the hair-and-makeup trailer, temporarily installed under one of the famous bridges in downtown Chicago. It was six in the morning. His hairdresser mentioned how quiet the street was. He was wondering what would happen when passersby found out Keanu was in the trailer.

A half hour later we began hearing murmurs and my makeup artist took a peek out the window. He told us it seemed as if people had found out about the filming and were gathering around the trailer. I wanted to see it for myself, and looked at the crowd pointing at the trailer.

I childishly said, “Keanu, they are here for you.”

Sitting calmly in his chair, he said, “No, Shohreh. They are here for cinema.”

ALSO IN 2005,
my agents, Peter Levin and Michael Katcher, were able to sign me up for five episodes of the popular TV show
24
, starring Kiefer Sutherland. I portrayed Dina Araz, a well-rounded character with a soul: a devoted mother, a dutiful wife as well as an accessory to terrorism.

My popularity soared with viewers, and the producers brought me up to fourteen episodes that season. It was an intense show and involved a lot of twists and turns.