This Much Is True

My part, Mrs Manson Mingott, was an elderly lady of wealth and shrewdness, a loving grandmother, but a realist, keenly aware of the practicalities of life. (She is an upper-class version of the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet who knows the ways of the world and respects its rules. She is the voice of Society.) I asked Mr Scorsese why he was tackling a very different milieu from the ones we associate him with — the tough gangsters and mobsters of Little Italy. He replied, ‘I’m interested in brutality, which can occur in the highest as well as in the lowest.’ I felt we had connected and liked each other and I got the part.

Even before filming began, I found an unorthodox way to break the ice among cast and crew. I was the last person the crew saw during the make-up and costume tests, and I came at the end of a very long day. I could see at once how tired everyone was. I did what I often do to show my appreciation: I made a small speech. I said I was grateful that they’d all been so kind to stay so late, and that the best thing I could do to show my appreciation was ‘to show you my breasts’. I lifted up my top, pulled up my bra and let them have it. Their faces were a picture. No one could be serious after that. It cheered them up no end. I think most crews are breast people.

I had read the book and I saw in my mind’s eye how I wanted Mrs Mingott to be. When I asked Mr Scorsese, ‘Shall I be more serious?’ he said, ‘Absolutely not. I want her to bubble.’ She was a woman after my own heart. Upon recovering from a stroke, Mrs Mingott, rather than retire into ladylike convalescence, organises a party. ‘People were expecting a funeral,’ she says, with a hoot of laughter. ‘We must entertain them.’

Fat as I am, I was not fat enough for Mrs Mingott. So they had to design a kind of bodysuit which I was then buttoned into. It was such fun putting it on that the dressers used to compete as to who would dress me, because we all died laughing. There were definite drawbacks, however, as it meant that I couldn’t go to the loo. On the other hand, I have terrible nails. I’m nervous and I bite them, so they gave me false nails as Mrs Mingott, because she wouldn’t be nervous, would she?

I think it was a distinguished film, better than it was given credit for at the time. When I was introduced to Michelle Pfeiffer for the first time I said ‘Hello, Fatty’ because she was so beautiful, I couldn’t stand it. Bless her, she laughed. And I also got to work with Daniel Day-Lewis playing Newland Archer, scion of one of the most socially prestigious families in New York. I knew Daniel’s mother, Jill Balcon, because we’d both had our wombs out in the same ward, on the same day, at King’s College Hospital in 1974. She was the daughter of Sir Michael Balcon, she was Jewish and read poetry superbly, a delightful woman. I also liked Daniel a lot. It was fascinating to work with him as he really does hold his character off-screen and that can be disconcerting. The rumour is that when he played Christy Brown in My Left Foot, for example, he expected Fiona Shaw to wipe his bottom. Rest assured, she wasn’t having any of that! He’s a serious man, thoughtful, but he responds to female charms and Winona Ryder and Daniel were often intertwingled in the make-up trailer. He was quite shocked when I asked him if they were sleeping together. ‘You can’t ask questions like that, Miriam,’ he said. Well, frankly, I didn’t need to.

Much of the filming was on location in Troy and Albany in New York State, where they had found an old mansion that I would have happily moved into. Because we were depicting a family of some opulence and grandeur, we were treated to lessons by an etiquette specialist: table manners, handshakes, posture were all closely monitored. And the ‘tony’ (‘high-toned’) accents of the characters were taught us by the greatest dialect coach in America, Tim Monich. He schooled me in the drawling accent of the period; my performance owes a great deal to his insight. The word ‘pearl’ was a helpful start in finding the affectation of their speech. It was almost Southern in its elongation.

As always, the delights of filming lie in the other people you work with: Siân Phillips, Richard E. Grant, Stuart Wilson, Geraldine Chaplin, Mary Beth Hurt, Alec McCowan — what a glorious bunch.

I was anxious when filming started because I admire Mr Scorsese so much, but I needn’t have worried. He turned out to be a gentle soul, driven by his love of film. He was intense, focused and nervous, totally fixed on the moment. And when he gave me notes, he whispered: he would take me to one side, away from the others so no one else could hear what he was telling me, and he would oh so quietly murmur his directions. It was as if he distilled something into my ear. He is discreet in that way. And it was always right and always helpful. Indeed, it was for this performance that I won my BAFTA for Best Supporting Actress.