
When I was but a lean and wan little punk, dreaming of being a professional actor, I knew from the get-go I didn't want to be a star. I wanted to be known, sure. I wanted to be respected and appreciated, sure. But I knew from observing at a cool distance that to be a celebrity was to submit to some form of self-imposed madness, if not torture.
No. I wanted to act, but preferred to conjure romantic fantasies of Shakespearian ensembles performing out of doors, to appreciative audiences in semi-rural Pacific Northwest, low-budget, Independent films that scored accolades at little film festivals at area wineries...
Honestly, I preferred the notion of the Working Actor, the Actor's Actor, that guy that never wanted for regular work, but who's presence fell just outside the scope of popular attention-- A good actor, a competant actor, an actor who was crucial to fleshing out the healthy body of an ensemble, but a guy who's role was no big deal and could wander in and out of the 7-11 after a case of Guinness without getting mobbed. I thought that sounded just about right, and I kept my eye out for actors I whose careers I thought rested upon a similar plane of professional success; Keith David, Brad Dourif, Clancy Brown. You may know their faces, or even their voices, but not their names--that is, unless you make it a conscious efforts, because the talk shows and tabloids are not and will not be burning their likeness into your brain.
Such an actor is Ms. Margaret Avery. Granted, her balloon went up above the herd in 1985 when she was nominated for an Academy Award Nomination for Best Supporting Actress for her role as Shug in THE COLOR PURPLE, but not long after said balloon dropped below the eye-line once more. Ms. Avery never stopped working, and her contributions have been steady and strong. Ms. Avery has participated in a veritable spectrum film genres, and she has had the career I would have liked, had I grown up to be a real-live actor.
Below is an interview I conducted with Ms. Avery for the boxoffice website in January, 2008. Her most recent film, WELCOME HOME ROSCOE JENKINS, a comedy featuring Martin Lawrence, was set to release in February. Initially I was very frustrated in my efforts to successfully research Ms. Avery's career. I found lists, blurbs, and bullet points acknowledging her accomplishments, but no interviews with her on the internet. I was very excited, as this meant I may be the first to have the opportunity share her thoughts, insights, stories, and glories with the world wide web. Sadly, the editorial control of boxoffice.com went down the crapper shortly after I transcribed my interview with Ms. Avery.
I am posting the interview below, in the hopes that others will enjoy the incredible scope of experience in Ms. Avery's career as much as I.
On a more personal note, it wasn't until mere moments before I spoke with Ms. Avery on the phone that I discovered she'd been in one of my ALL TIME FAVORITE SF films, the public television adaptation of Ursula K. Le Guin's THE LATHE OF HEAVEN. I watched the film multiple times in high school, but was surprised to realize that I had not seen a re-broadcast for, well, decades.
POST INTERVIEW I discovered that THE LATHE OF HEAVEN was not only public television's most frequently requested film for re-broadcast, but the original prints had all been destroyed when PBS found they could not afford to renew copyright on the film. Why not? Because a key moment in Le Guin's story, and subsequently the film, featured a tune by THE BEATLES and we know how simply priceless a BEATLES tune has become in the marketplace of popular entertainment...
Yes, you can now find copies of THE LATHE OF HEAVEN on DVD (released in 2002) but, believe it or not, they are remastered the feature from the murky, tinny home video of a very devoted fan. A hallow, muzak-quality version of the original BEATLES tune now stand in place of the original tune.
In retrospect, I wish I'd spoken at greater length with her about THE LATHE OF HEAVEN past her passing comments...but such is life.
Anyway--enjoy.
Interview: Margaret Avery
Interview, 1.10.2008
Cole Hornaday
Q: You have an amazing resume that covers a breadth of experience that expands not only several different eras of filmmaking but eras of cultural transition as well…
A: The work I’ve done goes back quite some time, because when I look back I realize there are many people that are no longer with us. I think, “Oh my god, I’ve been at this a long time…”
Q: It is often heard that actors consider themselves a “success” as long as they’re working. Do you share this sentiment?
A: Its interesting you as that because when people say, “Oh, you’re an actor,” I say, “Yeah, when I’m working…” But, in another sense, Acting is something you’re doing all the time—You’re always observing people—as the actor. Sometimes you’ll meet interesting people and you’ll think, “I’ve got to use that in a role.” We sometimes—particularly as we get older, we’re doing more character work…somebody’s laugh or the way they look at you when they’re in doubt—its good stuff and its real stuff and if you can incorporate that into an interesting character its very enriching.
Q: Anymore, in this country, a highly successful actor has become the equivalent of royalty and the barometer to that level of success seems to be the level of harassment they receive from the paparazzi. That being said, what denotes a successful acting career in your eyes?
A: I think of the paparazzi as a nuisance myself. You think of people like Michael Jackson—some of the real icons—they cannot go anywhere without being bombarded by people. There is absolutely no privacy. I can see how they would wish to live in isolation. And money-wise, if you use that as an indication of success obviously they’ve got it, but who would want to live they way that they live. I like being around people, but I know that when we were shooting The Color Purple, if Michael (Jackson) was to visit the set we were all excited to meet him because he was very much involved with Quincy Jones at that time on several projects together. Before long word got around that he could not come because it would be too much of a disruption to the set, people are going to be following him and we thought, “That’s too bad.” Also, Whoopi Goldburg had just done her one-woman show for HBO, and I didn’t realize she had become so popular. We went to a concert for Patti LaBelle and Steven (Spielburg) insisted that she take his bodyguards because he wasn’t going to be in town for that weekend. Whoopi insisted; “Oh no I’m not going to need any body guards!” Well, we’re settling in for the concert, waiting for it to begin, and somebody discovered that she was in the audience, and this was before she had the notoriety that she has now—Oh my God—its seemed like the whole arena just came down on us—this mob that was just frightening to see come. Those experienced bodyguards just whisked her out of that area.
I’ve also had the experience when we went to screen The Color Purple in Alice Walker’s hometown, we were walking into the theater and there were all these people behind the ropes. I was walking a little too close to the ropes and some woman just grabbed my clothing, trying to rip it off me. I’m sure she was doing it to get a souvenir, but when you have this whole crowd of screaming people it can easily get out of hand because it can start feeding into the excitement of, maybe, somebody who wasn’t excited in the beginning but is now following along with the crowd—its like a riot. That’s very scary. So, would I like to have that happening to me all the time? No.
Q: There is a transition for some actors where acting goes from being your job to a livelihood to a Way of Life…
A: I would imagine that’s part of the upside or downside of you career choices. Everything has its upside and downside. People ask, “Don’t you get tired of people always referring to you as Shug?” The Color Purple was twenty-one years ago, and that’s a compliment. In one sense you ask, is that the only thing I’ve ever done? Well, no I was films and television for twenty years before The Color Purple and now its twenty years later, and I’ve still been working, but people remember me as Shug and I’ve come to accept that if that’s what they love about me then that’s okay, that’s a blessing. There are some many, many fine actors and people never remember them. I still get work because of being Shug (laughs). You accept what is, and just not let it get out of hand as far as letting it interfere with your personal life and know who you really are.
Q: You worked steadily during that period of cinema history we now call Blacksploitaion filmmaking…
A: Absolutely, I started out in that ear and was happy to get those films. It was like the beginning for black actors to work on film.
Q: We know that titles, or labels, for an era or time-period is a retroactive process, did you or your peer attribute a title to the type of films your were making at the time?
A: No, we were all glad for the opportunity to work. We were mostly experienced actors from theater. A lot of the actors were trained in New York. Myself, I’m a West Coast person and my training came from San Francisco and a lot of Free Theater in Los Angeles, though I did have a little training in New York. So, by the time we had the opportunity to do these films, we were trained actors first.
Q: Therefore, when you were working in this area of film, did you ever have a moment when you felt what the films called for was beneath you?
A: I think nudity was something I didn’t care to do. And at that time there wasn’t a lot of vulgarity as far as language—I think that just started within the last fifteen years. There was one incident where they were using a bible in the scene and I didn’t appreciate that and I did make a comment to the director and he said something like, “Oh, don’t be so prudish…” But I take religion seriously and I don’t think it should be integrated with entertainment all of the time.
Q: Tell us a little bit your acting background?
A: My mother, who was a hard-working, yet uneducated woman--she, when I was a child instilled in me that education was the most important thing. As a child I wanted to learn to dance and to sing and that to her was not acceptable, she felt; “Okay, we have enough black people dancing and singing and grinning—you need to be educated. It was always a priority that I go to college. In the 1960s women of color weren’t thinking about getting into corporate businesses or anything like that—black women—or all women, really, were looking at careers in teaching or nursing or social work. Those were basically the choices. So I chose Education.
My mom always told me, “Get your education first. No one can take that away from you...” So, I used that—I eventually did decide to go into acting, but I was substitute teaching during the day. I had four years of teaching experience before I decided to move to Los Angeles for film. I had taught first and second grade. That was one of the best things for me because it allowed me to work during he day as a substitute and then I did all these things at night in preparation for acting career—there was a lot of free theater, but you need money for your pictures and the acting classes, dance classes, voice training—its all very expensive. What else could I have done? I could have worked as a waitress, but that’s not always steady work either, and you’re depending on tips. At that time in the 60s and early 70s women of color didn’t have the same opportunities to work in the better restaurants and hotels as a waitress where you’re going to get more tips.
A lot of things have changed. I started out working about the time when credit cards were becoming common. At that time women couldn’t even get credit without a husband.
Once the Blacksploitation films started up, I was really ready. I had an agent at that time, they took me on, when they did sign me up, as a favor to a friend but they really didn’t think they would ever be able to cast me because Blacks weren’t on television, they weren’t in the movies other than Sydney Poitier and Cicely Tyson. Diane Carroll had a series but that was very rare. So when Black Exploitation films started up and it became Black Exploitation because we were exploited in the sense that it was the white producers, writers and directors getting the money and we were so anxious to work we didn’t quibble over not getting much money. Then they took the films and showed them in the black neighborhoods. So who was benefiting from the films? Yes, we were getting the experience, but you want to work for money too. That’s how exploitation started. As far as the films made today goes as long as people are being paid sufficiently then its not exploitation. If they’re not paying the actors or putting all the money in their pockets from the box office receipts or the video sales, then that’s exploitation—regardless of color—it’s the same thing.
Q: Coming up to the present, you appear in a new film, Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins?
A: Yes, and its definitely not an exploitation film. I think everyone got decent money on this one—I know I did.
Q: Tell us a little about your experience in this film…
A: It was awesome. I think the director sets the tone for the set and my hat’s off to Malcom Lee or director/writer/producer. He came around each morning and personally said, “Hello,” and asked how you were and it was genuine. If you had any anxiousness sitting in that make-up chair before going out in front of the camera, it was kind of a soothing thing that occurred. And it was not only with the actors, it was a genuine feeling on that set with the crew all the way down from lighting to the people who handled the catering. With the actors, I never felt there as any competition among us, it was a true, wonderful, ensemble group. We genuinely liked each other and were happy for someone to come into a scene and give it that cap line that it needed. And Malcom welcomed that in anyone’s ability. You know, looking at that cast, you have quite a few comedians; Mike Epps or Monique—we just rolled with them. The problem was that Malcom couldn’t get some of them to pick up a line at the same place—they were all so spontaneous—so at the end of the scene we’re all laughing and they all wondering, “What did I do?” Which is a little different from actors—James Earl Jones and I would just look at each other in awe and thing, “Is this not incredible what these young people can do?” Sure, we brought to it a little more stability of the “old school” acting, but I was very excited and impressed to hear people say that they had learned from me, to hear Martin Lawrence say, “Gee, I’ve learned so much from you Ms. Avery.” That made me feel really good.
Q: A film you did several years, that received quite a bit of critical response, but appears to have not been re-issued on DVD was the PBS adaptation of Ursula Le Guins’ The Lathe of Heaven…
A: Oh, yes—Well, I actually got a notice from the public television broadcasters seeking permission to broadcast it again. It was one of the first films I ever did as a leading lady, acting across from Bruce Davidson. I saw it late one night on television. I’d fallen asleep and woke up to the sound of my own voice coming from the television. I looked up and all I could think was, “My God, look how little my waist was!”
Q: The film has since been remade and broadcast on the Sci Fi Channel, but its unfortunate that the earlier version has not found a more permanent audience, as your work in it was quite significant and effective.
A: That’s the thing about film acting. When we’re acting on stage, we get immediate response from the audience. But on film you just never know what the response was because we don’t have the contact with the audience in the same way.
Q: You recently visited Ghanna and that brought up some valuable revelations and insights for you.
A: This was more of my own adventure. I initially thought I’d try to visit Acusla Busla who played Nettie in The Color Purple. I remembered her, a couple of years before, saying I should come and visit. Eventually I did get to hook up with her, but only by happenstance—communication didn’t work out, giving her prior notice—she didn’t know I would be arriving until I was actually there. But as far as my experience there was concerned, going to Ghanna, I just can’t explain it. To see where my ancestors were in the slave caves and those dungeons, to look out on the ocean where slave ships came in to get them was indescribable.
Q: Is this an experience you are planning to utilize in some way in performance or writing?
A: I don’t know-- that remains to be seen. But I certainly understand now, if inner strength or a sense of faith or hope—if its passed from generation to generation, I can understand how I’ve gotten my strength to survive the many obstacles in life that I have. Can you imagine trying to survive such a traumatic event in you life? Fifty percent or more of those people taken in to slavery died of disease or whatever.
You sometimes must look at your past, to see where you’ve come from in order to see where you’re going to go. And I understand that so much better now. The whole experience has made me a much better person. And if you yourself can become a better person and share that part of yourself with someone else and help them—that’s the other part of me, being a psychotherapist. You kind of begin to understand who you are and why you are the way you are by the path that you’ve traveled. As a counselor and psychotherapist I think that you have to try to get into another person and understand their struggle. To have a little bit of empathy and not push them faster than they can go.
End.
Awesome Lady.

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