NBC's Coverage of the Olympics is Annoying.

DATE September 22, 2000 ACCOUNT NUMBER N/A
TIME 12:00 Noon-1:00 PM AUDIENCE N/A
NETWORK NPR
PROGRAM Fresh Air

Interview: Isabella Rossellini, in 1997, on her life and career
TERRY GROSS, host:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. Isabella Rossellini knows she means
different things to different people. She says to people 60 and over, she's
the daughter of movie star Ingrid Bergman. To film scholars, she's the
daughter of Italian director Roberto Rossellini. People in their 30s and
40s
know her as the star of "Blue Velvet." Women of different generations know
her as the former model of Lancome Cosmetics. I talked with her about those
different facets of her life in 1997. Isabella Rossellini is now starring
with Maximilian Schell in a new movie "Left Luggage."

When Isabella Rossellini was growing up, her mother was virtually exiled
from
Hollywood. Ingrid Bergman had fallen in love with Roberto Rossellini while
she was married to another man. She'd filed for divorce, and while she was
waiting for it to come through, she became pregnant with a son conceived
with
Rossellini. This caused a great scandal. I asked Isabella Rossellini if
she
understood why this turned her mother into an outcast in Hollywood.

(Excerpt from 1997 interview)

Ms. ISABELLA ROSSELLINI (Actress): Well, while you're still doing it in
America, it's pretty scandalous to me that people are persecuted.
Politicians, military people are persecuted on the basis that my mother was
persecuted 50 years ago. And often in interviews, people say it's
inconceivable nowadays to think what has happened to my mother. It's
happening every day. People's lives are ruined because they fell in love
with
someone else when they were married or they had an affair years before. You
know, all human mistakes that can--everybody could make.

GROSS: This is a very good point. How did your mother describe to you the
morals charges against her, you know, in Hollywood? You know, what people
held against her? Did she explain that to you when you were young?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, you know, she never said, `I've got to tell you
something.' We sat at the table and she announced it to me. She wrote an
autobiography. And at the time she was writing it, she went back to looking
at some of the letters she had received and some of the articles that came
out. And I think that came back fresh in her memory. So at that time we
talked more about it. I think she was very hurt by it. And I think she
remained hurt throughout her life in a great fear of a witch hunt.

GROSS: One of the things that I learned about from your new book, "Some of
Me" is that when you were young, you had scoliosis, a curvature of the
spine,
and yours was pretty severe.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes.

GROSS: So you had surgery in which--What?--13 vertebrae were fused?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Exactly.

GROSS: Do I have that right?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: And you were in a body cast for--What?--about six months?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: For about two years.

GROSS: Two years, my goodness.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes.

GROSS: How did you spend your time when you were in the body cast?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, most of the time I was very sick. So most of the
time
you're just trying to--you can't do much if you're in pain, you know. Just
sit there and wait till the pain subsidize. And then, occasionally, I felt
better and then I tried as much as I could to go to school, take walks, have
a
regular life. But, obviously, it was incredibly disruptive. But I think
the
hardest part of it was the pain. The pain--everything else you could deal
with, you know. I was a teen-ager and I was embarrassed to have a body
cast.
I was embarrassed to be labeled deformed, because that's what scoliosis is.
But those all seemed to be not major problem. Really, the great problem is
great physical pain. That is really hard. And I don't have any solution
for
it. I just have--I'm glad that I'm over it.

GROSS: How long did the pain last?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: The pain lasted for periods, depending on the operation.
And now they don't do that procedure anymore. If you have scoliosis now,
they--you are either in a brace for--until you're completely grown or they
operate. But now they've found a metal ...(unintelligible) that they can
use
and the body doesn't reject. But at the time I did my operation, they used
bone from my leg to fuse my vertebrae so that there would be no problem of
rejection. But in order for the bone to fuse together, I had to be
immobilized for six months and then also had casts. The operation was very
painful. The stretching and the correction of the spine, which is now done
while you're asleep and--with this--rods, metal rods--were done, instead,
where you--awake on a--and they literally stretched you like the medieval
torture and that was very painful.

And that pain stayed for a long time because the cast was much bigger than
I,
so it would pressure--I had a machine in my mouth because the pressure was
so
strong beneath--underneath my chin and on my hips that my teeth could go
back
in my jaws. So I had a machine to keep my jaws separated. But still, the
pressure on the jaw was great. So it took days before my body gave in to
that
length.

GROSS: I think what's so interesting about what you went through when you
were young is that, you know, you--as as adult, you w--you've been an
internationally acclaimed beauty. And it must have been so odd for you to
go
from thinking of yourself as deformed to thinking of yourself as beautiful.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes ...(unintelligible).

GROSS: Or to realize, at least, that other people thought of you as
beautiful.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yeah, that was kind of--it was wonderful, you know? I
remember keep on sending postcards to my doctor saying, `Can you imagine?'
It
was--yeah, it was. It was pretty wonderful to have overcome all the odds.

GROSS: Was it important to you to be beautiful? Your mother was beautiful.
You probably had a pretty insecure self-image when you were young because of
the scoliosis and the surgery.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: But not so much. You know, I think one thing is to do--I
don't know, I can't really--I don't remember being young and wondering if I
was beautiful or not beautiful and terribly concerned about that. I don't
remember even in my old age being very concerned about it. I don't know if
it
is wisdom or if I'm spoiled. Maybe people did tell me, `You look so
pretty.'
So I thought, `Oh, well, then I don't have to worry about that.' So I don't
know. I don't remember it as being an obsession.

When I had scoliosis I didn't think of myself as ugly. I thought of myself
as
deformed, as having a deformed spine, which is different, you know, and
trying
to be well and trying to walk. I couldn't walk for--because I had lost the
ability to walk. The stake was so much higher than just look pretty.

GROSS: Right. Right. How did you start modeling?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: I start modeling by chance. I was 28 and I used to work
for
the Italian television. I'm Italian, originally, but I lived in New York.
And I--and, socially, I've met a wonderful photographer called Bruce Webber,
who wanted to photograph me. And I thought, `Oh, that'd be fun, so I can,
maybe, buy the issue of that magazine all done up and save it to show it to
my
grandchildren.' I'll be an old bag and say, `Look. I looked pretty. I was

photographed once.' But then from Bruce's photo, I, really, literally, had
an
overnight success. And within a month I was in Richard Avedon's studio
working, basically, every day having covers. And my life completely
changed,
and I became a model and learned to love it.

GROSS: You've been photographed by many great photographers. What are some
of the different ways they get you to respond to the camera? Do you feel
like
you respond to the camera differently, depending on who the photographer is?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Oh, definitely. There is a definite style of posing. I
have seen very, very beautiful girl who didn't have a great career and
somebody else who maybe was a little bit--they're always beautiful. The
common denominator among models is they are beautiful. But some of them are
odd looking or there is something strange and not classical beauty and yet
they have bigger careers just because there is an art in modeling. There is
a
know-how. And the style of posing also slightly changes with a different
photographer. It can be more emphatic and artificial or it can be real real
and real acting. And you learn that as you go along and do it.

GROSS: So are there things that photographers would actually tell you to do
or tell you to think about that would help?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, in my book I give the example with Richard Avedon.
He
was the first one. See, I was terribly spoiled. My first experience was
with
Bruce Webber, followed by Richard Avedon and they taught me. I think I
couldn't better--I couldn't have had a better school. I remember when I was
posing. I thought I just had to be obedient and wear the clothes and make
sure I wasn't going to wrinkle them up and mess them up.

And I sat there and just obediently--just wait for every instruction. `Turn
a
little bit left. Turn a little bit right. Look up. Look down.' And I
just
obeyed. And Avedon would just look at me and say, `Well, can you think of
something?' And then when I thought of something, he'd say, `No, change
your
thought. I don't like what you're thinking.' And one day I said, `What is
he
saying? What is he--he doesn't know what I'm thinking.' So I went back to
a
thought I had and he caught me immediately. He said, `No, no. I told you.
I
don't like what you're thinking. Change your thought.' And I think you
could--by--if you concentrate, there is something that emanates through you.
And that's what they--the great photographer photographs.

The fact that you're--you know, Diane Vreeland I quote in my book, saying,
"there is no beauty without emotion." And I think that that's what is the
responsibility of a model. It isn't so much to look beautiful. That mostly
is genetic, you know. You're born like that. But you have to show your
emotions and that's what makes a great photo.

GROSS: Now is this something you think about when you're making movies,
too?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes, it is. That's why I always say that it isn't--you
know, people always differentiate between the two jobs as being so
categorically different: modeling and acting. And they are, instead--there
is a lot of it in common. What you don't have in common is that you don't
have a dialog when you're a model. You don't have to react to another
actor.
Sometime you react to the photographer in the same way an actor would
respond
to the partner in front. So--but, you know, they are--but there are a lot
of
similarities. And in terms of the intern--the feeling that rises from
within
and changes your expression in your face and your eyes, that is exactly the
same for modeling and acting. But acting, probably, is a little bit more
complex because a storytelling--there is an evolution of emotion that you
have
to have. And you have to do them in a certain order. That people realize
from upset you get happy. And how do you get to--to--from this to that? In
modeling you don't have to do the range, the arc. You just have to show the
emotion right there and then. So it's--probably, it's simpler, but it is
very
similar.

(End of interview)

GROSS: My guest is Isabella Rossellini. More after a break. This is FRESH
AIR.

(Soundbite of music)

GROSS: Isabella Rossellini is starring in a new movie called "Left
Luggage."
That opened today in New York. Let's get back to our 1997 interview with
her.

(Excerpt from 1997 interview)

GROSS: You know, I found it interesting before you started modeling
professionally, you say you wore very little makeup.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes, I still do.

GROSS: Why?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: I guess I grew up like that. You know, nobody in my family
used much makeup. And then you use so much makeup when you work, you know,
that, partially, is--may be that. And you are made up with such great
makeup
artists that you can never mimic the result of makeup done by these great
professionals. I enjoy makeup. I mean, it's definitely a great tool for my
work, not only as a model, but also as an actress.

I often used makeup and clothes to create characters, whether it was Dorothy
Vallens in "Blue Velvet" or maybe--most, as you say, extreme--it was Perdita
Durango in "Wild at Heart" where I just had one scene. And I've used
completely my ability of model and body appearance and body language to
convey
a character. And I think I did because in one scene I think people did have
a
precise idea of who Perdita Durango was.

GROSS: The--once you started modeling for Lancome, you had a contract that
stipulated you had to wear makeup for public appearances.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes. Well, obviously. Obviously. I think they're right,
you know. You have to celebrate and support what you represent. I,
obviously, did.

GROSS: What else did the contract say?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, the contract--I think the oddest part of the contract
is the moral stipulation. You know, that if I was involved in any scandal,
they could get rid of me, which reminded me of this--of the contract in the
'40s that actors and actresses had with the studios. And they were similar
that way. There were many, many similarities. The idea that a studio,
then,
or a company, now, works as a Pygmalion. They create you, so you have to
obey
to that image; to that persona that they have created. Even in modeling now
they--there is a greater liberalization. But when I signed the contract,
which was almost--oh, now it's almost 17 years ago. Still, the moral
stipulation was still in.

GROSS: Now another stipulation that was in--I don't know if it's still in
today in contracts--is that you weren't allowed to gain weight.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Oh, well, that's obvious. Yes.

GROSS: Right.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Oh, that's obvious because you have to, you know--they have
to use your image. And you become like a label. So you can't change too
much. You're--they also stipulated that I couldn't change hair color or
hairdo or that I had, at least, to have their approval and it's
understandable. I mean, you know, are repres--you have to create a certain
continuity.

GROSS: Well, did food become a big issue for you during those years?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: No, it didn't because I never was an anorexic model. I was
always--I always said I was the fattest, shortest, oldest of the models. So
I
was pretty much--my weight--I just watched not to become too fat and that
was
it.

GROSS: Now with the morals clause...

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes.

GROSS: ...when you made "Blue Velvet," and especially when you were nude in
a
scene in "Blue Velvet," did Lancome object to that? "Blue Velvet's" a very
kinky, weird film.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: You know, Lancome is a big entity, you know. It's many,
many people. And some people were shocked by the film, as the general
audience was. And some people loved the film, as some member of the general
audience would, too. So there was the same debate that was in the magazines
and in the paper, it was within Lancome. But I guess that the film was
successful and that film was recognized as an artistic film. And then
Lancome
became quite pleased that I wasn't just--I think in a way, for me, having
been
an actress and having done other things than just Lancome, helped me
maintain
my contract for 14 years.

Generally, the models that have the big contract--you get a big salary so
you
don't have to work if you don't want to work. Then the company gets tired
of
you. They look and they say, `Well, there's another girl that seems more
appealing.' And, generally, they don't stay more than three, four, five
years. But I loved my work, and I wanted to continue it. And I think--and
I
just did it. And I think it helped Lancome. It kept Lancome--it kept them
being interested in me--seeing many facets and other aspects of me.

GROSS: What about having a child without being married? How did they react
to that?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, they didn't like that so much, but then they had to
live with it because I'm tough, you know? I assert my freedom very
strongly,
so they understood that at the beginning...

GROSS: You were how old when you lost the contract with Lancome?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Forty-two.

GROSS: And it was because of your age?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes, it was because of my age. I mean, you know, it was a
very long debate. You know, it didn't happen all of a sudden. There is,
you
know--and I feel bad that Lancome is nowadays the one that is being accused
of
having not kept me, even if we had an enormously successful campaign. But
the
truth of the matter is that any fashion magazine or any film, any woman that
is represented as beautiful, appealing, is between 16 and 32.

So Lancome actually did keep me until I was 42, and there was an enormous
debate within the company whether to keep me or not, until they just
succumbed
to the tradition and they, in spite my protesting, breathed their freedom.
And I guess freedom is more to be respected, so I do respect their choices.
I
do still think that we lost an opportunity to break a prejudice because I do
believe that it is a prejudice not to use older women to represent elegance.

GROSS: On a real practical level, older women buy their share of cosmetics,
and they want to see them displayed on somebody...

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes.

GROSS: ...who is a mature woman, not someone in their 20s because there's
no
way you're going to look like that.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, that is their point. The point is that when you do a
campaign, you represent the dream in people; you do not represent the
reality
in people. And they believe that the dream of women is to stay young. So
they take the symbol of youth, they take somebody who's not terribly young
because then you would feel terribly alienated--it's very interesting. You
see, the people that do the cosmetic campaign, the big cosmetic campaign,
are
generally in their late 20s or early 30s. They're generally brunettes
instead
of blondes because brunettes are more accessible and people can identify.
But, still, they have to be young enough to represent a sort of a dream at
what you wish to be.

My point with Lancome is that the new generation of women, the biggest dream
isn't to stay young; it's to be independent, to be free, to be powerful, to
do
what you like to do to assert yourself. But they considered that too avant
garde. The staff, they didn't recognize it. They said, `Yes, but we still
think it's a minority of women that has those values, and that the biggest
group of women dream to stay young.' That's why plastic surgeons are so
successful, I guess.

GROSS: Right.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: So they had a valid point, and they are there to sell
cream,
not to do a social battle.

GROSS: What was your mother, Ingrid Bergman's, attitude toward getting
older,
toward having wrinkles on her face? Did that bother her?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: I don't remember ever discussing that with my mother and I
don't think she was very affected by it. But then one day I spoke to my
stepfather, who said, `Oh, Mamma, you know, she was kind of worried about
that.' And it surprised me, you know. Then I said, `Well, obviously, she
must have been, to a certain extent. She was an actress. She must have
worked less.' But I don't know that it was a great obsession. In my book,
I
imagine a conversation with my parents. Unfortunately, I lost both of them
in
my 20s. And if you want, I can read you some.

GROSS: Sure.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: I ask my mother--you know, `Isabella: "Mamma, you were
told
you were beautiful." Mother: "Oh, yes, many times. I felt a bit
embarrassed
about it. I never knew what to say and what to do. Then I found the answer
when they said, `Ms. Bergman, you look so beautiful." I say, `Isn't it
lucky?' And felt that with that response, I had killed the subject and we
could move on."' And then it's me again: `"And when they stopped saying it
and you were just told you looked old and how beautiful you had been."
Mother: "I wasn't told that to my face, but behind my back." Isabella:
"But--whatever, but did it hurt you? Did you feel bad about getting older?"
And Mother said, "What can I tell you? I didn't particularly like it, but
the
alternative, dying young, seemed a much worse destiny."' That's what I make
my mother answer.

GROSS: So this is an imaginary conversation you had with...

Ms. ROSSELLINI: It's an imaginary conversation, but I think she would
answer
that.

(End of excerpt)

GROSS: Isabella Rossellini recorded in 1997, after the publication of her
autobiography. She's starring in the new movie "Left Luggage." It opened
today in New York and opens in other cities in October. We'll hear more of
the interview in the second half of the show.

I'm Terry Gross, and this is FRESH AIR.

(Soundbite of music)

GROSS: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross.

Back with more of our 1997 interview with actress and model Isabella
Rossellini. She's in the new film "Left Luggage." Rossellini grew up in
Rome
and Paris, and moved to New York at the age of 19. She didn't become a
model
until she was 28, and it was only after she established herself as a model
that she started making movies.

How much of an emphasis on acting have you wanted to have in your career?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: I guess when I was a teen-ager I wanted to do something
different than acting, because not only my mother was such a great
established
actress and adored, but everybody else in my family was very successful
including my father, who's a great filmmaker. And then when I became a
model,
I thought there must have been some similarities with acting and I became
curious about acting. I kind of loved modeling unexpectedly because I
thought, like everybody else, it was a stupid job. I had the stereotype in
my
head. So then I tentatively started to take classes and then I got some
parts
and had the courage to do them, which isn't easy when you come from a family
that has been so glorified in films. I like acting, but I think I like it
somewhat less than my mother. My mother just adored it, lived for it. And
I
don't. I like it. I like it a lot, but I don't have the same--I think my
mother liked acting most and above all.

GROSS: I want to ask you about "Blue Velvet." You were so wonderful in
that
film.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Thank you.

GROSS: You played a nightclub singer who's exotic and mesmerizing, but is
in
a weird and abusive relationship with a psycho played by Dennis Hopper.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes.

GROSS: How did you get the part, and what interested you in this part?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: To me, it was the only time that I portrayed a battered
woman in a Stockholm syndrome, where it's very hard for a victim to
recognize
that they're a victim. Generally a victim feels guilty and does anything to
please the person who's torturing them. And it's an absolute strange twist
that our mind gives us and, you know, it is a recognized syndrome among
kidnapped people or raped victims, and I thought it was quite interesting to
play that part. And that what appealed me for the role--it was a wonderful
way to portray sexuality and the darkness of it.

And I played a femme fatale that was a femme fatale just because she was
kind
of beautiful and she was singing and she had the features of somebody
beautiful, but yet, she was completely destroyed inside. And that was a
pretty good role. You know, most of the time the femme fatales are
portrayed
as women who know exactly what they want and completely--and sex is
portrayed
as something that you go out there and choose for yourself. Well, we know
that the reality is often, you know, it just happens to us and then we don't
know what to do with it, what to make of it.

GROSS: I'd like to play an excerpt of a scene that you had with a young man
played by Kyle MacLachlan. And in this scene--you know, he's trying to
solve
the mystery of who you are and who Frank, the Dennis Hopper character, is.
In
this scene, you're being very seductive. You're trying to seduce him.

(Soundbite from "Blue Velvet")

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Do you like the way I feel?

Mr. KYLE MacLACHLAN: Yes.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Feel me. Hit me.

(Soundbite of pounding)

Mr. MacLACHLAN: Dorothy, no, stop it.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Hit me. Hit me. Hit me.

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: Isabella Rossellini, did you understand why this character asks to
be
hit?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Yes, I do, because I once was beaten, and when--and I
remembered when I played that part and I had to say that line, `Beat me.
Beat
me,' I say why would this woman want to be beaten? And then I remembered
that
the time that it happened to me, that I was beaten, the first blow to my
head
and you just see little stars, exactly like Donald Duck, and there was a
sense
of bewilderment and you don't know where you are. But I wasn't panicked, I
wasn't anything. I was--just was bewildered, a strange feeling. And I
thought that this woman, who had so many torments in her mind, became the
victim of the abuse that she--because she was raped and beaten by the
character of Dennis Hopper--so that when she did get the first blow, the
first
punch, she would see the stars and her tormented thoughts could stop. And
that's why she asked to be beaten.

GROSS: Oh, what an interesting way of looking at it. Who--who beat you?

Ms. ROSSELLINI: I don't want to give the details of all that. I don't want
to start, you know, being like, `Oh, poor me. Poor me.' It happened, but
I'm
fine now.

GROSS: Fine. OK. OK. There's a scene in the movie where you're wandering
around in the street naked. Tell me about that scene and what you wanted
your
body to look at. It's not a vanity scene.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: No, not at all. I mean, it's a--not at all. I--David
Lynch
told me that when he was a child coming back from school, he saw a naked
woman
walking in the street, and instead of getting aroused or excited at that
sight, he started to cry. It terrified him. And he wanted to convey the
same
terror. He wanted Dorothy to walk in the street of Wilmington, where we
shot
the film, naked, and convey this same sense of terror instead of the sense
of
sex appeal. And when he was talking to me, there was a photo of Nick Ut's
that I remembered. And it was a photo of a young girl in Vietnam. She has
been a victim of napalm attack and her clothes have been completely torn off
the body and she has skin hanging and she's completely naked. And she walks
in the street with the arms outstretched, and it's such a helpless gesture.

And I couldn't think of anything else but this absolute helpless gesture and
walking like that. If I would have walked covering my breasts or covering
myself, it meant that Dorothy still had some sense of pride, still had
something in her to protect her. That woman had to have lost everything,
and
so she had to walk completely exposed just saying, `Help me.'

And that photo is the photo--I took the gesture from that photo and used it.
And I hope that I conveyed the same sense of despair. I didn't--I wanted to
be like raw meat, you know. My nudity--it was like raw meat, like a
butcher--like walking in a butcher and see a cow hanging--you know, a
quarter
of a cow hanging. That was the thing that I wanted to convey.

GROSS: It seems to me that you really have a very analytical approach to
acting.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: (Laughs)

GROSS: No, really, I mean, that you really kind of think it through on many
levels.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Well, I do, you know. I don't know. I can't tell, but
this
is the way I do it. I don't know if it is more or less analytical than
others.

GROSS: When did you realize how much you look like your mother? And I
don't
know if you agree with everybody who says that you do, but...

Ms. ROSSELLINI: Oh, yes.

GROSS: ...I surely think there's a really strong...

Ms. ROSSELLINI: They say it a lot, yes. I write it about--I write in my
book
about it, because I always thought, `Oh, people exaggerate. It's not true,'
you know. And then my mother noticed it. My mother saw me once on
television
when I was working as a--as a journalist, and she said, `You know, I see it
on
te--I don't see it in life, but see it when you appeared on television. We
move the same. It isn't only that we have similar features, but there is
something in the voice and the way we moved.' And I said, `No, Mother.
You're wrong. I don't--I don't think so. I don't--I think you're wrong.'
So
I was the last one to be convinced.

And then one day I walked into an antique shop and there were beautiful
things--tables and chairs and old mirrors. And I was walking and a
middle-aged woman came in--quite elegant, but she looked very reserved, so
every time I walked toward her, you know, I discretely walked the opposite
way
so I wouldn't disturb her, until I bumped into her. And as I was walking,
though, I was--I kept on saying, `She reminds me of my mother. She reminds
me
of my mother.' And then when I bumped into her, I looked up and it was
myself. I had not recognize--it was the reflection of me in the mirror. I
hadn't recognized myself because I didn't realize I had grown so old. And
then I said, `But I did say to myself, "She reminds me of my mother," and it
was me.'

GROSS: Right.

Ms. ROSSELLINI: So that's when I thought, `Well, people are right.'

GROSS: Isabella Rossellini, recorded in 1997 after the publication of her
autobiography. She's starring in the new movie "Left Luggage." It opened
today in New York and opens in other cities in October.

Coming up, a review of the re-released version of "The Exorcist" and a talk
with the voice of the devil, actress Mercedes McCambridge. This is FRESH
AIR.

(Soundbite of music)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Review: Re-release of "The Exorcist"
TERRY GROSS, host:

(Referring to preceding segment with Mercedes McCambridge, recorded in 1981)
She did the voice of the devil in "The Exorcist." The re-released version
of
the film, which is now in theaters, includes 11 minutes of restored footage.
Film critic Henry Sheehan has these thoughts on how the film holds up after
27
years.

HENRY SHEEHAN reporting:

If a horror movie is going to be at all scary, someone involved in making it
had to be really afraid of something. Otherwise, the movie inevitably
lapses
into mere shock and facetiousness.

"The Exorcist" is full of shocks, but it's never intentionally facetious,
though it is certainly campy. Director William Friedkin's crude technique,
which is basically borrowed from carnival sideshows, looks cornier than
ever.
Ellen Burstyn's performance as the possessed girl's mother, which landed her
an Oscar nomination, mostly involves non-stop screaming. Too many of the
plot
twists, not to mention simple matters of continuity, don't survive scrutiny.

But William Peter Blatty, who authored the book and screenplay and produced
the movie, clearly felt genuine fright at the idea of a demonically
possessed
12-year-old girl. No doubt many audience screams were provoked by Dick
Smith's special effects makeup and some viewer revulsion by the obscenities
which poured out of young Linda Blair's mouth, though in the voice of
middle-aged Mercedes McCambridge. But it's the transformation of the little
girl into a hateful monster that is the fundamental source of terror here.

When the movie opens, Blair's character has just turned 12 and is entering
puberty. The gooey discharges, leaks and eruptions that mark her possession
are well in keeping with male perceptions of menstruation. Same with the
bad
temper that marks the early stages of her possession. And the obscene
language and sexual desecration of sacred objects could not have seemed all
that different from what kids were saying and doing at what was the height
of
the sexual revolution. Even the girl's mother doesn't recognize her
daughter
in her dawning physical maturity.

(Soundbite from "The Exorcist")

Ms. ELLEN BURSTYN: I'm telling you that that thing upstairs isn't my
daughter. Now I want you to tell me that you know for a fact that there's
nothing wrong with my daughter except in her mind. You tell me you know for
a
fact that an exorcism wouldn't do any good. You tell me that!

SHEEHAN: Mom is giving up here, having failed to stem her daughter's
reckless
development. She hands off the ball to two professional fathers, priests in
fact. The younger priest, played by Jason Miller, has problems of his own
over his mother's recent death. The devil tries to exploit that by, among
things, telling him that his deceased mom is enjoying non-procreative coitus
in the underworld. But soon, Max von Sydow's older grandfatherly priest
makes
an appearance and the two men drive the sex-crazed demon from the girl.

Linda Blair wasn't the only nymphette to burst upon the scene in 1973.
Tatum
O'Neal made a splash in Peter Bogdanovich's "Paper Moon." That movie
presented the lighter side of precocious little girls. The sweet-looking
O'Neal was the daughter of a con man. Her innocence front was the practiced
performance of a bunko artist, for in reality she was a hard-boiled thief
who
could swear like a sailor.

As horrible as Blair's character was, that's how adorable O'Neal's appeared.
Blair and O'Neal paved the way for the ultimate in sexually charged
juveniles,
Brooke Shields. In 1978, a partially undressed 12-year-old Shields had her
virginity auctioned off in "Pretty Baby."

It would be nice to say that these movies were liberating acknowledgements
of
girlish sexuality, and maybe they were in a way. But every single one of
them
was conceived and executed by men, and express their fears and desires.
It's
significant that, no matter what the girls undergo in these films, by the
closing fade-out, they are restored to a state of innocence, as if the male
filmmakers were reassuring themselves and the audience that, fantasy over
with, there was no harm done.

Women, on the other hand, often found this a no-go territory. In 1976,
French
filmmaker Catherine Breillat had her frank study of adolescent sexuality,
"Une
Vraie Juene Fille," banned. It had its North American premiere only 10 days
ago at the Toronto Film Festival. This reinforces the perception that
little
girl fantasies have rules and orders set by men.

Keeping this in mind, we can look again at "The Exorcist" and moan, `The
horror, the horror.'

GROSS: Henry Sheehan is film critic for The Orange County Register.

Coming up, David Bianculli reviews TV coverage of the Olympics. This is
FRESH
AIR.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Review: NBC's coverage of the Summer Olympics in Sydney
TERRY GROSS, host:

The second week of Olympic competition begins today. Many people have
complained about the coverage provided by NBC. TV critic David Bianculli
isn't as unhappy as most, but that's because of his high-tech secret weapon.

DAVID BIANCULLI reporting:

There are certain times when it pays to be a geek, or at least a TV critic,
if
that's not redundant. One of those times comes whenever the Olympic Games
arrives, because that's when I can take full advantage of my arsenal of TV
satellites. So while I've been watching the Olympic coverage from Sydney on
NBC, and on cable sister stations CNBC and MSNBC, I've also been tuning my
giant satellite dish to Canada, where I've been watching Canadian coverage
from the CBC. It's live, it's varied, it's intelligent and it's wonderful.

The coverage on NBC, I realized, works under a different set of commercial
constraints. Nothing, though, explains why NBC's coverage, totally tape
delayed with about half a day to put most of it together, is as annoying and
jingoistic as it is. NBC claims it's shaping its prime-time broadcast
largely
for the casual female viewer. If that's the case, all casual females should
be terribly insulted. Clearly NBC presumes that fans of these Games have a
short attention span, a very small vocabulary and are easily manipulated,
either by weepy features on athletes or misleading promises about what's
coming next.

Here's the way anchor Bob Costas opened up Wednesday night's coverage, for
example.

(Soundbite of NBC Olympic coverage)

Mr. BOB COSTAS (NBC Sports Commentator): Day six of the Sydney Games. Hi
again, I'm Bob Costas. Ahead, the most anticipated race of the Olympics
thus
far, the men's 100 free. Also, American Jenny Thompson...

BIANCULLI: The inference was that NBC's coverage of the men's 100-meter
freestyle swimming event was just around the corner. But that corner wasn't
turned until three and a half hours later. On the CBC, on the other hand,
they run an on-air graphic telling viewers exactly when to expect what, and
it's live. Those tearjerker features are another big part of NBC's
problems.
Not that athletes shouldn't be profiled, but the way NBC does it is
positively
lame. The features are as slow and dull as high school film scripts. And
because NBC knows the outcome of each contest before assembling its
telecast,
it almost never inserts a feature before a competition unless that person
wins
a medal.

Besides, it seems so unfair. We're supposed to care about the profiled
athlete because he or she has support of parents at home or has endured
hardships or has a strong personal reason to compete and win. Well, who
doesn't? The fair way to do it would be to profile all eight swimmers
before
they dive into their lanes and start the race. But that would make NBC's
coverage even longer and duller, which is difficult to imagine.

And worst of all on NBC is the mistaken attitude that presumes American
viewers are interested only in American victories. Whenever anyone talks to
me about the Olympics, this is what they complain about the most. They want
to see and cheer and share in the glory of the best in the world, regardless
of where in the world they come from.

In the '60s and '70s, when ABC provided terrific coverage of the Games, that
network made sure to give athletes from other countries their fair share of
dignity. Sure American victories were great to watch, but I remember being
touched several times by hearing an unfamiliar national anthem being played
to
salute that country's winner. Those moments don't happen much on NBC, and
the
telecast, like anyone who watches it, is poorer for it.

GROSS: David Bianculli is TV critic for The New York Daily News.

(Credits given)

GROSS: I'm Terry Gross.
Transcripts are created on a rush deadline, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of Fresh Air interviews and reviews are the audio recordings of each segment.