 |
|
|
Halle Berry Outtakes from the interview, "Glory, Glory, Halle-lujah," by Lawrence Grobel in the December/January 2002 issue of Movieline, on newsstands now. On Monster's Ball: When I got involved I thought it was going to be a little movie, but now I hear people saying it's going to be a big movie. It was a challenge, but I knew I could do it... De Niro and Sean Penn were both considering it, but when I got involved it was Billy Bob, and Wes Bently was going to play his son. I had heard that this script had been around and all these great people had wanted to do it, but the movie was so dark and heavy that every studio felt: who's going to want to see this? It takes you to places you don't really want to think about, let alone watch for two hours. But secretly, a lot of people relate to that darkness, to different kinds of hell that we all get stuck in. On whether her topless scene in Swordfish drove her price up: When it was presented to me it was: the nudity is there. What went on was my price fluctuated, which is what happens in normal negotiations. I had a price that I was willing to do that movie for. It wasn't with my boobs out or not, it was I had a price. On executive producing Dorothy Dandridge? HBO allowed me to be a real producer. Even when it got into financial trouble, I gave up some of my salary; I helped make decisions on where to spend money. I knew we had to put as much money onto the screen so actors had to be paid less, because period pieces are really hard to do... There are [favorite old films I'd like to remake], but honestly, I'm not going to say them, because I did that with Dorothy Dandridge and then everybody wanted to do it! I do have some projects cooking now. One is an old film, and I've optioned three books in the last year. On acting: I'm not so good. I have a lot to learn. And I'm just trying to do it before I get too old. I'm racing the clock! [Laughs] |
|
|
|
|
On her husband, Eric Benet: Erik is amazing because he loves me no matter what--when I fuck up, when I'm less than perfect. He says that's what he loves about me, that I have all this crazy shit that sometimes doesn't make sense, and that I'm not what I appear to be. On what women want: Women want men to be strong and know where they're going. When I thought about becoming a wife, I wanted very much to have a husband that I could honor and respect and follow. But I want a man who knows where he's going. I don't want anybody to dictate where I have to go; I want to willingly be able to follow when it's appropriate. On life-changing experiences: I wanted to be a journalist, but I couldn't do it. One of my first assignments, my professor gave me a list of questions that I had to ask an inner-city family whose house had been burned down. I accompanied the lead journalist and had these questions, but I was just bawling. I so lost my composure that it upset the family. I didn't have the skin for the job. On being biracial: It's not a choice you make. For me to sit here and say, 'I feel white,' somebody would try and commit me somewhere. When people see me, nobody ever thinks I'm white. No person in my whole life has ever thought that I was white. As I've gotten older people have thought I was Mexican or Chicano or Italian even. But never white, and not connected to anything... Kids are cruel. When I was little some kids left Oreo cookies in our mailbox. A couple of times kids would call me zebra, but that's kids trying to understand how my mom could be white. They're spewing out the views of their parents; they often don't even know what they're saying. |
|
|
|
|
On struggling with her identity: Not everybody would agree that I was smart or funny or had a solid character. "Pretty" was said about me more than anything else. I got to the point where I loathed hearing it. I loathed being judged by my physical self. Because I knew that was the tiniest part of me. I couldn't take credit for it, I wasn't proud of it. Everyone comes in the package that they come in. I tried really hard to fit in. So I was in every club, the president of my class, in the honor society. I popped my wad at school all day trying to be Miss Everything... I never felt equal. So I thought if I made the Honor Society they would know I was as smart as they were; if I ran the paper I'd control what's in the paper and make it diverse; if I'm a cheerleader I'm going to be the captain. On the beauty pageant route she took to fame: It was very shallow in many ways, because it perpetuated my physical self a lot more than I ever wanted to; but very significant in a way because I gained a lot of confidence in myself. That confidence has served me throughout my life... In my case, I believe it was good for the pageant system for someone of color to win. They were taking too much heat that there were too many black contestants and none of them were even placing. They couldn't deny us any longer. So, did I win for real? Or was I the black girl who won to make a statement? I don't know... To win something like that made me feel accepted. As shallow or superficial as it may have been, in that moment I felt like I am as good as they are. On modeling: I did it for three years. I hated it, it was the most boring work I ever did. There had to be a better way to make a buck! [Laughs] Not being able to have a say. Being a human coat hanger. On how she sees herself: That's frightening. I usually try not to. I see myself as a pioneer struggling to find a place for women like me within an industry where there is no place, really. I think of myself as someone striving to make a way, for myself and for other people who share the same dream. |