The Alley of Love and Yellow Jasmines (29 page)

There was a time when the roles Middle Easterners could audition for were mostly of terrorists. As professional actors, my husband and I resisted those parts for a long time. We even gave interviews about it. We said we refused to play such roles. Our Iranian fans cheered us on. But many years had passed, and when I was offered the opportunity to play the mouthwatering, multilayered, and complex role on
24
, I said, “Wait a minute,” and went for it. I would not be playing a terrorist shouting, “Yallah, Yallah” (“Get moving, get moving”), which was the typical offering.

Portraying Dina Araz would also show the American audience my versatility. I intended to build my body of work for the public and for the Academy, and what better way than on prime-time TV?

Dina Araz was a sophisticated and challenging role, and I thought I could do a good job. When I first read the script, I was fascinated by this woman’s ability and courage. My decision had an artistic origin rather than a political one. I got a lot of flak for playing that role, especially from fellow Iranians, who mistakenly saw that character as a bad representation of Iranian women, or of Arabs, or of Middle Eastern women.

In fact, the character’s origin was never revealed throughout the season. The audience was expected to connect the dots and draw their own conclusions about Dina and her husband Navi’s motives, and this was part of the tension and suspense the show created.

I loved being a part of the cast of
24
, but working with Kiefer proved challenging even for me. I can get along with almost anyone, and always have. In the end my popular character was going to become a mole as powerful as Kiefer’s, which he did not like.

In one scene, Dina was going to be assassinated by a gunshot to the heart, having saved Jack Bauer’s life (Kiefer’s character). Dina was then to fall on her knees, her head on Jack Bauer’s shoulders, who was kneeling on the floor with his arms tied behind him, look into his eyes, and say, “Save my son.”

All weekend long, I practiced falling gracefully on my knees. I even bought knee pads. Houshang and Tara laughed at me and said, “Haven’t you practiced enough?”

On Monday, the producers told me they were not going to kill me in front of the camera as suggested by the network. Instead the killer (the head of the terrorist cell) would order his men to take me to the other room and we would hear shots. The producers told me there was a possibility I would return to the show, but I knew in my heart that Kiefer would not agree with them for he did not want me there, period.

WHEN ON LOCATION,
I love exploring the local towns, especially in exotic places such as Morocco. I was there to portray Saint Elizabeth in Catherine Hardwicke’s
The Nativity Story
. I was wandering through the old bazaar in Marrakech on a Sunday afternoon when I realized I was being followed. I turned around to see a ten-year-old boy chasing me. I said, “What do you want?” He said, “Madam is artist?” in French. I was surprised and told him I was an artist, and he joyfully asked,
24
? I could not believe it. I gave him a coin and got him a sandwich and a Coke and asked him to keep the secret between us, and not to tell a soul who I was.

24
is internationally known and has a lot of fans all around the world. I am particularly popular with security guards as I go through metal detectors at airports. They always say, “The woman from
24
is here!”

Once a comedian friend of mine asked me if I was aware that I played doctors and professors most of the time. I said, “Believe me, I would love to play a maid.” He replied, “Imagine you playing a maid. You would come in and say, in that deep voice of yours, ‘Madam, the tea is ready.’ That tea must be poisoned or there is no reason for bringing you into it.”

I WISH I
could play somebody’s American mother. Not too long ago, I played God in the movie
The Adjustment Bureau
, but the distributor thought that a woman from a Muslim country like Iran could not appear as God in an American movie. The director, George Nolfi, who is now a good friend of mine, and the producer of the movie, Matt Damon, had no problem with it and actually thought it was quite inspired casting. But my scenes ended up somewhere between the floor and the trash can, though my name is still in the credits.

I became a working girl in Hollywood before I knew it. The industry had opened its doors to me, and the Academy nomination had brought me opportunities that would not have come any other way.

X-Men: The Last Stand
was one of these opportunities. I was thrilled to play a scientist, Dr. Kavita Rao, and loved being a part of such a popular and huge film. I was stunned at how it was filmed. Great actors, movie stars, hundreds of extras, experts, and creative artists were all gathered in Canada, and with the help of highly advanced technological gadgets they took cinema to a new level. What made
X-Men
one of my great experiences in Hollywood, aside from its cast and crew, was the amount of imagination required to bring a certain truth to this genre of storytelling.

I had a scene with Kelsey Grammer, who was playing the Blue Beast. I am a fan of his TV series
Frasier
and love his voice. In fact, I wished I could talk like him, with that beautiful East Coast accent. I anxiously joined him on the set, and what did I see? An enormous Blue Beast, with a pair of big yellow eyes.

I said I had been hoping to see him in person, shake his hand and express my admiration. But his hands were covered in a pair of thick, hairy gloves, part of his costume. Instead I told him that he was the most beautiful Blue Beast ever. He wondered how many I had seen before.

Something quite bittersweet happened when we finished the film. I told the story of my departure from Iran to a colleague of mine in the movie. He asked me how my first husband could have let go of me. He was not convinced by my answer, which was that he was a painter and was inspired by Iran’s beauty. He got back to me a few days later and said, “Now I know why your husband dared to leave you. He preferred Iran over you.”

ANOTHER FUN AND
different movie for me was
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2
, based on the novels by Ann Brashares. I was not supposed to poison anyone, nor inject them with lethal serums, and I was not being stereotyped either.

I played Professor Nasrin Mehani, a simple archaeologist who teaches enthusiastic international summer students. This role would have not crossed my path had it not been for the movie’s director, Sanaa Hamri. She wanted me to play the part, and I loved working with her, and the beautiful Blake Lively, whose character is a student at the camp. The movie was shot in Santorini in the Greek Island chain of the Cyclades in the Aegean Sea.

My character teaches Blake’s that archaeology is not just about finding bones. “Archaeology is more than just discovering people who died. It’s about learning how they lived. What made them special, or even ordinary, what they believed in and fought for, and loved.”

I loved sharing a trailer with Blake and adored how her mother called her from America to make sure everything was fine. I told her how I wished I had a camera and could capture her on the phone, talking to her mom, so I could show it to those who do not think that American mothers are as vigilant as Middle Eastern ones.

Having had a tremendous time on the island with Blake, and enjoying the company of the crew and the panoramic view from my bungalow, it was time to leave. But I returned home to land one of my favorite roles of all time: Sajida, the wife of Saddam Hussein, in a coproduction between BBC Television and HBO Films, in a miniseries titled
House of Saddam
.

Many international actors, including Israeli theater and film actor Yigal Naor, who portrayed Saddam, gathered in the city of Tunis to bring to life the most intimate portrayal of a dictator’s rise and fall. The writers, Alex Holmes, Stephen Butchard, and Sally El Housaini, had spent several years creating this amazing miniseries. We filmed in Tunis, Nafta, and Monastir, the three oldest cities of Tunisia. Two and a half months of intense daily work—except for the weekends and a one-week vacation after the first month—was not an easy task. But what made it tolerable was the amount of time, energy, and love that everyone, including all the good people of Tunisia, who played the hundreds of extras, put into this miniepic. I also loved filming at exotic locations, especially the scene in the Sahara.

Apparently Saddam loved camping in the Sahara with his wife and family and enjoyed hunting there with his eldest son, Uday, in the winter. It was mid-July 2008, and we were in the Sahara to re-create the scene.

Saddam’s mother was played by the British actress Izabella Telezynska. We were sitting in a bohemian tent in our thick winter costumes in the middle of the Sahara with no cooling system except for our primitive straw fans. I was in a couture red wool suit worn over a wool polo. She was melting in her costume, a heavy black cloak worn head to toe, showing only her face. I was worried about her. She had a great sense of humor. She said she did not understand why we had to come to this forsaken and boiling place in the heat of the summer to portray something that originally took place in the winter. She was wondering how I kept cool and why I did not complain.

I said, “Izabella, close your eyes and imagine you are in a bath full of ice. It is cold and you are freezing. Now imagine it is so cold that you want to get out of it.”

She closed her eyes and after a few minutes of struggling with reality she said, “It isn’t working, Shohreh.” We both laughed.

Izabella and I explored historical sites, went to museums, and shopped at the old bazaars every chance we got. I will never forget the day she left. All the actors stayed at a five-star resort hotel next to the beach outside the city of Tunis for almost two months. It had become home to us. The manager of the hotel, Mr. Shokri, knew us by our names and did his best to accommodate us.

It was six-thirty in the morning on a Saturday when the ear-piercing emergency sirens went off. I jumped out of bed, went to my door, and knew we did not have much time if it was a bomb alert. I opened the door to see a half-naked man peeking down the hallway from his door in a room facing mine.

I grabbed my robe and ran for my life. I noticed there were only three of us running: a young Israeli couple holding their baby and me.

We took the stairs to the lobby only to find out that it was just a false alarm. All the Arabs, Europeans, and other clientele seemed to have had no problem with the alarm. I was standing there in my robe, embarrassed. But the young couple was so grateful to God for saving their child that they could not care less about standing in their nightgowns. Mr. Shokri apologized for the inconvenience and invited the three of us to breakfast.

Akbar Kurtha, who played Saddam’s trusted secretary Kamel Hana, also spent a lot of time with Izabella, because she reminded him of his own mother. Seeing her off, Akbar asked Izabella if she had anything to do with the alarm, and whether she did it to avoid paying her bill. She was still laughing in the car that took her to the airport. I was sad to see her go as the dust rose in her wake.

41

Accolades

T
wo and a half months of intense work paid off. I received the prestigious Emmy Award in 2009 for best supporting actress, for portraying Saddam’s wife.

I had asked my husband and my daughter to look me in the eye and tell me if my name was announced. I have this fear of making a mistake and thinking my name is called when it is not. So when Kevin Bacon and his wife, Kyra Sedgwick, pronounced my name correctly, I was still not quite sure if it was me. I looked at my daughter and she nodded, then I looked at my husband and he gave me a look that could easily be read as:
What on earth are you waiting for?

I gathered all my energy, got up, and walked toward the stage, my head down, still wondering if it was my name that they had called out.

Then it dawned on me that I was not on my own, that I was representing millions of Middle Easterners, including Iranian women who most probably were watching me via the Internet or on various Middle Eastern TV programs aired on satellites. Along with the million-dollar earrings and bracelet loaned from Boucheron, I wore a green plastic band on my wrist representing the progressive Green Movement back home in Iran. I waved my arm proudly. I was there on their behalf. I took a deep breath gently, held my long skirt up a tad to avoid any kind of embarrassing falls, and began walking up the stairs with my head held high.

I thanked all the good people who had helped me receive the award. I was choked up with emotion as well, trying hard not to shed a tear as I received the award, given to me by my peers, for my role in
House of Saddam
.

RIGHT AFTER
House of Saddam
, Cyrus Nowrasteh called me about his screenplay, adapted from a French-Iranian journalist’s book
The Stoning of Soraya M
, based on a true story.