Frost's bite

Interview, May, 1995 by Jonathan Bernstein

Sadie Frost both beguiled and repelled audiences as the blood-spattered, undead Lucy in Brae Stoker's Dracula; her carnal coquette, pre- and post-suckage, was one of the highlights of Francis Ford Coppola's florid mess. Now, and not a moment too soon, this bold, knowing English actress, soon to be the ex-wife of Spandau Ballet-meister Gary Kemp, returns sans fangs, silks, and crinolines in a pair of contemporary roles. As a truculent American waitress in A Pyromaniac's Love Story, Frost holds in her hands the hearts of Billy Baldwin and John Leguizamo. She also stars, with current paramour Jude Law, as a thrill-seeking Northern Irish joyrider in the British film Shopping. When we meet on a chilly February afternoon in Manhattan, Frost, whether discussing matters professional or personal, is garrulous and unguarded.

JONATHAN BERNSTEIN: You're starring in a film called A Pyromaniac's Love Story. It's directed by Joshua Brand, one of the creators of Northern Exposure. My initial reaction: Uh-oh, quirky.

SADIE FROST: I just don't think it's the normal glossy American film. It's more like a Shakespeare comedy than the typical Hollywood comedy; it shows a much more chaotic and farcical reality.

JB: And you're a spunky, feisty, sassy American girl in it.

SF: Yeah. She's hardly been out of the neighborhood, but she's really tough and not affected by fashion or culture. If a guy pinches her, she gives him a right-hander. But she's not a hard bitch. She's very, very vulnerable.

JB: You started on British TV?

SF: Yeah, I love all that stuff. I would go back and do it again. And then I did a film called Dark Obsession.

JB: It was terrible.

SF: [laughs] Yes, but it got me Dracula.

JB: I read that the first time you saw Dracula you cried for two days afterward. God knows, you weren't the only one.

SF: A lot of people really hated it, but I've met interesting people who loved that film. It was a cult. I remember on Halloween I walked along Santa Monica Boulevard and there were loads of people dressed up as Lucy. That film was a turning point for me - it got me seen. But it also confused people [in the industry]. They would call me in for a meeting expecting me to have red hair down to my waist, or they thought I'd be really skinny and tall. And I'd walk in and I'd be, like, this short, dumpy, dark-haired . . .

JB: I understand Coppola coaxed the performance he wanted out of Winona Ryder by screaming stuff like "You're a whore!" at her during pivotal moments. Did you receive the same direction?

SF: I don't think he was doing it to cause pain to anybody. He was more like a schoolboy; he likes to see the effect he's having on people. That scene with Winona was probably the worst. I think he went a bit overboard there. The worst thing he did to me was during a scene with Gary Oldman. He was making me go, "Fuck you, Gary Oldman, you're a shit actor!" And I was scared of Gary as it was, just 'cause he's, like, you know. . . .

JB: Oh, I know.

SF: I was going, "Oh Gary, you're so boring. Oh, for God's sake, I've seen it all before," and then, in between takes, Gary was going, "Just shut the fuck up, Sadie." His anger was getting bigger and bigger. I was going home trembling.

JB: You're a Manchester girl, so I understand, but you've got this London accent.

SF: I know. I've got ten brothers and sisters and I'm the odd one out because they sound real Northern working class and I talk like I've been to a private school. I had a scholarship to theater school and started speaking like this from age ten.

JB: Being the odd one out - that must have been, well, odd.

SF: But it also made me feel safe, because even though I'm the eldest of five girls, all my sisters were really protective of me. There's definitely a lot of pressure to get your personality across when you come from a family that big. But it's also been vital for my work. It's not like I've just been to drama school.

JB: You've done more than just play roles?

SF: Exactly. One of the biggest things that happened to me last year was when I had a meeting with Woody Allen in London. My dad had just been put in prison that day -

JB: What for?

SF: He's an anarchist who's caused lots of riots. I'm not embarrassed about it. So I went to meet Woody Allen, and he opened the door and we're talking and I'm thinking, Whoever's in a Woody Allen movie is really eccentric, and fight now I feel like an empty shell. I felt like I could give nothing, because what was going on in my life was crazier than any Woody Allen film. And Woody got me to read this thing and I read it parrot fashion. So I told my agent that I didn't want to go on any more auditions. I had to live my life rather than escape and go play another part.

JB: Is your father still inside?

SF: Yeah. He's in for four years.

JB: Where?

SF: He's in Strangeways [a Manchester prison], but I haven't been to see him. When he broke his bail, my friend and I smuggled him out of the country and put him on a plane to Bali. I gave him a thousand pounds, but he came back after a week and the police sent a riot squad in and the dogs bit him all over his face; he was all scarred up. I couldn't believe that that had happened to him. Now it's all resolved in my head. I want to go to work and I want to do something and express it and seek it out. I'll probably go and see him when I get back.