Celebrity Smack! Gossip & Entertainment Blog » Kathleen Turner

Kathleen Turner is Perma-Drunk

Spicy — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 18:51:43 +0000

Kathleen Turner was on The Today Show this morning talking about her new book, Send Yourself Roses.

Is it just me – or is Kathleen like, permanently drunk? I don’t think she really is drunk in this clip, I just think she’s the end result of being a hardcore drunk for an extended period of time. The gravel voice, her speech, body language…

She sounds/looks like sh*t.

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Nicholas Cage Fires Back at Kathleen Turner With a Lawsuit

Spicy — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 20:55:39 +0000

After Kathleen Turner’s new book, Send Me Roses came out, it had Hollywood buzzing about allegations it spewed forth about her colleages.

Nicholas Cage was one of many the book targets. Turner claims he drank tons while filming, ‘Peggy Sue Got Married’, got a DUI and even tried to steal a Chihuahua.

Once Cage heard the accusations, he immediately contacted TMZ and told them that “I have never been arrested for anything in my life, nor have I stolen a dog. I am reaching out to my fans — many of whom are children — so they know that I do not condone drunk driving or theft. The reason why you’ve never seen a mug shot of me is because it does not exist.”

Even after clearing his name it has obviously been eating at him because he’s decided to pursue a lawsuit with the High Court in London.

A spokesman said, “The libel action follows false allegations that appear in the forthcoming autobiography. As legal proceedings have been commenced, it would be inappropriate to comment further.”

Both of these two bug the hell out of me. Now that Kathleen claims to be off the juice she thinks she can go around pointing the finger at everyone. Bitch is totally known as a drunk egomaniac. So really, you can’t take what she says too seriously. Hell, she was probably drunk when she wrote the book.

And Nicholas Cage? I used to be a big fan and then he got all weird and strung out on Elvis, even marrying the King’s daughter. Then came the teeth. (or were those before Lisa?) Anyhow, I haven’t really liked him since.

I’m going to say that Nic’s going to win this one though. He’s got more cash to drag it out in court with and a seemingly more truthful story.

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Nicolas Cage Responds to Kathleen Turner’s Book Allegations

Spicy — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 20:14:27 +0000

Nicolas Cage is fighting back against claims made by Kathleen Turner in her new book , Send Yourself Roses.

Turner dropped the bomb on many celebrities in her book, divulging secrets about their drug use, arrogance, and quirks among other things. Regarding Cage, whom she worked with on the film, Peggy Sue Got Married, Turner alleges that he received two DUIs and even stole someone’s Chihuahua.

She wrote, “He’d come across a Chihuahua he liked and stuck it in his jacket.”

Nicolas was furious when he heard her accusations. He released the following statement through TMZ:

“I have never been arrested for anything in my life, nor have I stolen a dog. I am reaching out to my fans — many of whom are children — so they know that I do not condone drunk driving or theft. The reason why you’ve never seen a mug shot of me is because it does not exist.”

So who’s telling the truth here? Wasn’t Kathleen drunk through the entire 80s and 90s?

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Past Smacks

Kathleen Turner’s New Book Dishes Hollywood Secrets

Spicy — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 19:13:37 +0000

Kathleen Turner reflects on her glory days back in the 80s when she was truly A-list.

However, her life wasn’t as golden as you would think. Turner writes about her crazy life in Hollywood and spills the beans on many top celebrities in her new book, Send Yourself Roses.

She pulls no punches and even names names.

She mocks Nicholas Cage’s ‘fake teeth’, claims Anthony Perkins was a raging drug addict on set, and describes Burt Reynolds as being a chauvinistic pig. This is a long read, but most definitely a juicy one with sex, drugs and massive egos!

Delish! Enjoy..

On the first day of filming on my first-ever movie, the director had a little surprise for me.

We were going to start with a sex scene in which my co-star William Hurt and I were stark naked. I didn’t have that much sexual experience – and, at that stage, I hadn’t even met the film crew.

So, wearing just a bathrobe, I launched into introductions: “Hi, I’m Kathleen. You’re the camera operator? Oh, that’s wonderful. Oh, you’re the focus puller? Uh-huh. Props? Nice.”

Handshakes all round. Then Bill Hurt and I stripped naked in front of all these people we’d just met and started filming this graphic sex scene.

Afterwards, I felt terribly vulnerable and shaken.

When we made Body Heat in 1980, Bill and I knew that it would be ground-breaking in its realistic treatment of sexuality. In fact, the first time I read it, I thought it might even be dismissed as sensationalist.

The most famous scene is when Bill smashes his way through the window of a house and grabs my character, Matty, with a sense of longing so fierce it’s shocking. As I recall, we went right down on the floor there in the hallway.

Continue reading after the cut!

There was a balcony above and a camera was mounted there, shooting us from above. Having all the crew on this balcony, looking down over us, made me feel as if I were in an arena – like a gladiator – with thousands of people waiting to see me get torn apart.

After almost every scene that powerfully sexual, I’d go back to my trailer and cry, just sobbing and sobbing. It wasn’t that it felt degrading to do these scenes, but it did feel emotionally intrusive.

When I was on camera, I didn’t feel as though it was actually me being filmed; but when the director said, ‘Cut!’, I snapped back to being a 25-year-old woman who’d just exposed her body to all these men.

It didn’t help that we were incredibly cold during the entire shoot. The film was supposed to be set in the steamy heat of Florida, but an actor’s strike delayed filming and we didn’t start until December.

So, while Bill and I were in little T-shirts and shorts, the crew was wearing duffel coats and snow-hoods. We just wanted to kill them. We relied on tricks to avoid looking cold on screen, such as tensing every single muscle in our bodies until the director said: ‘Roll.’ By doing this, we were able to stop shivering.

We also put ice cubes in our mouths and spat them out when the cameras were rolling, so our breaths didn’t come out as clouds. On top of all that, Bill and I had to be sprayed with droplets of water to simulate perspiration. Brrr!

In the movie, I was supposed to be a devastating femme fatale who persuades her lover to murder her wealthy husband.

But I was no great beauty: back then, I was a skinny woman with long legs, almost no boobs, good hair and bad teeth. Indeed, one of the studio’s worries was that my teeth didn’t look American – so they paid to have a fake cover made for them. It was awkward because it changed my lips and the way I spoke. It was uncomfortable, too, but I didn’t have any choice.

Working with Bill Hurt was – shall we say – enlightening. In those days, he was pretty wild. He drank a great deal and took a lot of recreational drugs – he loved those magic mushrooms. He loved women, too; I don’t know how many he went through during filming.

Bill always wanted to stay in character and be called ‘Ned’, even off-stage. He’d get a little teed off when I was chatting with the cameraman up to the moment we were ready to act.

My way of letting off tension is to have a laugh and then get to work – but Bill thought I wasn’t taking my acting seriously enough. He’d glare at me and say he just couldn’t understand how I could switch so instantly into character.

Even now, more than 25 years on, I’m amazed at how Body Heat still casts a sexual spell. Once, a guy came up to me and said: “Honey, there are portions of your body that are completely worn away on my tape of Body Heat.” Uh-oh. Funny man.

There’s also a rock band called Kathleen Turner Overdrive, and a song by another group entitled The Kiss Of Kathleen Turner. The lyrics go: “Under the seven moons, I made a solemn vow/ I need the kiss of Kathleen Turner right now.” Weird.

It was certainly a relief to leave that character behind in my next big film, Romancing The Stone, for which I needed to be a shy and mousey novelist. My leading man was Michael Douglas, who was also producing the movie, and the plot called for lots of action and stunts.

Only later did I discover that Michael had originally intended to cast Debra Winger in my part, but they hadn’t got along as well as he’d hoped. They’d met to discuss it at a Mexican restaurant, and she bit him – or so he said.

I hadn’t known Michael (who was then estranged from his first wife, Diandra) before we started filming, but we bonded from the start and I soon found myself falling in love with him.

Being with him certainly helped me to portray my character’s growing sexual awareness, though the romance ended when his wife decided she wanted him back.

The following year, I was committed to making a sequel to the film – but there was a problem. For The Jewel Of The Nile, Michael had hired new writers – and, unfortunately, I hated the script. It was just a boring stunt movie, so I refused to do it.

One day, I came home and the doorman of my apartment building waved a New York tabloid at me. He said: “Twenty-five mill, huh?” Startled, I said: “What?” He said: “Oh, Fox is suing you for $25 million.”

Now, Michael Douglas is a wonderful friend and a terrible enemy. When I phoned him up to ask what was going on, he took the hard line. “You don’t have any choices here,” he said.

This, of course, made me angry – I don’t like being pushed around. I guess my own lawyer counter-sued them or threatened to, because Michael then asked if I’d drop my opposition if he got the original writer back.

I agreed. In the end, Michael and I sat down in a hotel room and rewrote the script together.

In my time, I’ve worked with some pretty eccentric people. Crimes Of Passion, in which I played a whore, was directed by Ken Russell, who’s a mad, self-sabotaging genius, and my co-star was the actor Anthony Perkins, of Psycho fame.

Ken was drinking a great deal at the time, and as the days went on, things got increasingly out of hand. Anthony, who had an appalling drug habit, was taking illegal substances in front of all of the crew. You could see his heart beating a mile a minute.

Everywhere he went, he carried a little bottle that I was told was benzyl nitrate. We’d rehearse a scene, then before the call to ‘Roll camera’, he’d take out his bottle and sniff it with each nostril.

His face would go red and he’d break into a sweat – and suddenly I’d have no idea whether he was in control of himself or not. It was scary. I was quite worried about getting hurt.

Before one scene, where my character had to go from abject misery to laughter in a matter of seconds, Anthony said to me “You won’t be able to do that without some of this,” and tried to hand me his drugs.

I said: “Oh yeah? Watch me, a**hole.” But actually, working with Ken and Anthony was nearly impossible.

Another co-star who left a lot to be desired was Nicolas Cage, who played my boyfriend and husband in Peggy Sue Got Married, about an unhappily married woman who jumps back in time to her high-school days.

Now, Nicolas happens to be the nephew of Francis Ford Coppola, who was directing the film. And my contrary co-star was absolutely determined to prove that he wasn’t there as the result of nepotism.

So, everything Francis wanted him to do, he went against – to show that he wasn’t under his uncle’s wing. Which was ridiculous. Oh, that stupid voice of his and the fake teeth! Honestly, I cringe to think about it.

He caused so many problems. He was arrested twice for drunk-driving and, I think, once for stealing a dog. He’d come across a chihuahua he liked and stuck it in his jacket.

On the last night of filming, he came into my trailer after he’d clearly been drinking heavily. He fell on his knees and asked if I could ever forgive him. I said, “Not right now. I have a scene to shoot. Excuse me,” and just walked out.

Nicolas didn’t manage to kill the film, but he didn’t add a lot to it, either. For years, whenever I saw him, he’d apologise for his behaviour. I’d say: “Look, I’m way over it.” But I haven’t pursued the idea of working with him again.

I’ve never been one to lie about my feelings. The model Christie Brinkley, then married to singer Billy Joel, kept reserving tickets to see me in a play. And she kept cancelling. Finally, she called at five o’clock in the afternoon of the closing night, saying that she hadn’t left home yet.

She never showed up. Then she had a mutual friend buy Waterford crystal tumblers and a beautiful bottle of bourbon, which she sent to me as an apology.

I sent it all back because it was the fourth or fifth time she had cancelled to see my show. And I said: “I can’t accept this kind of gift to secure a friendship.”

Once, I had to leave the Broadway production of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof because I’d already committed to a film. But the producers wanted to extend the run, so they started auditioning other actresses in my part.

One afternoon, my male co-star came into my dressing room and said: “You gotta come. You gotta see this, Kathleen.” We crept in through the back door of the theatre and watched as Raquel Welch did an audition.

“Well, I just don’t think that Kathleen has ever been feline enough,” we heard her say. She was going around the stage with her hands like claws, hissing and making cat gestures. Oddly enough, the producers decided not to use her.

My unhappiest experience as an actress? Well, that would have to be a film called Switching Channels, which came out in 1987.

It had all started well enough. I’d had two rehearsals in New York with the wonderful Michael Caine, who’d signed to play my husband. But Michael had to leave to finish the latest Jaws film – Jaws IV, V, VI, whatever – and the shark machinery kept breaking down.

He didn’t have a stop date for when he’d be free and I had my own stop date, for a very important reason: I was pregnant. When it was plain that Michael couldn’t join us before I grew too big, the producer hired Burt Reynolds.

For whatever reason, the first thing Burt said to me was: “I’ve never taken second billing to a woman.”

I excused myself, ran to my hotel room and called my husband, breaking into tears. Jay said: “Dry your eyes, be cool, go back, just do the film.”

I did go back. But, oh, every day there were nasty little digs. For instance, because of my pregnancy, the production team had given me a golf cart so I didn’t have to walk around too much – and Burt even made fun of that. He was just nasty!

One day, we started shooting a scene that Michael Caine and I had rehearsed, where we finish each other’s sentences like old married couples do. Making that dialogue work needed real skill. It had to be fast; it had to be sharp. But Burt just couldn’t do it.

The director finally said: “Look, why don’t we just shoot line by line?” And, idiot that I am, I shot back: “Because it’s called a scene, that’s why.”

From that day on, Burt and I were sworn enemies. He later accused me of trying to get him sacked every day and publicly declared that the sound of my name made him want to vomit.

I won’t be rushing to work with him again, either.

________________

My battle against rheumatoid arthritis and how I came to feel sexy again

________________

• Abridged extract from Send Yourself Roses by Kathleen Turner with Gloria Feldt

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