Thursday, April 04, 2013

Diane Keaton

The solitary year of shooting Reds in England was an emotional two steps back and no steps forward. I wasn't prepared for playing Louise Bryant, someone far less romantic than I'd imagined. She became my cross to bear. I didn't like her. There was nothing charming about her will to be recognized as an artist in her own right. Her pursuit of the magnetic revolutionary John Reed was suspect and, frankly, laced with envy. I hated her. It was a problem. Rather than face the challenge, I did what I usually do under pressure: I backpedaled....

Everyone knew I didn't take well to Warren's direction. It was impossible to work with a perfectionist who shot forty takes per setup. Sometimes it felt like I was being stun-gunned. Even now I can't say my performance is my own. It was more like a reaction to Warren--that's what it was: a response to the effort of Warren Beatty.

It took the tragic reunion of John Reed and Louise Bryant at the train station for me to find a sense of pride in playing such a provocative character. Warren waited through something like sixty-five excrutiating close-ups before I finally broke through my self-imposed wall of defiance and let go of my judgment call on a woman I needed to love in order to play. Shooting the scene was an experience I couldn't have foreseen. Because of Warren's tenacity, suddenly against all odds, love came rushing through when Louise Bryant saw John Reed's face approaching hers at last. Reds was an epic with themes enriched by human ideals. John Reed sacrificed his life for his beliefs. But for me, it was imperfect love that was at the heart of Warren's movie.

Diane Keaton, Then Again (2011), p. 145-46.

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