She was a druggie rich kid in Traffic at 17, and at 31 is a lawyer mom on Parenthood — here, Christensen discusses her long career, growing up famous, Scientology, and how harrowing it’s been for her character this season.
Paramount/ Everett Collection
Vivian Zink / NBC
Erika Christensen began acting professionally at age 12, stole every scene in Steven Soderbergh's Traffic in 2000, and currently co-stars as Julia Braverman on NBC's Parenthood, which draws — sobbingly, weepingly — to the close of its fifth season Thursday. Over brunch this week at a Los Feliz restaurant near her home, Christensen, now 31, talked about her varied career, her experiences as a young actor on the L.A. club scene, Scientology, and, yes, whether fans of the Julia and Joel (Sam Jaeger) relationship on Parenthood will get some good news after a season of looming infidelity and separation.
You were born in Seattle, but you moved here when you were little. What brought your parents to Los Angeles?
Erika Christensen: The weather. Job opportunities for my parents. Certainly I don't think my parents could have necessarily predicted that I would have wanted to be an actor. But this is the land of opportunity. And I know that they very much took into consideration me and my brothers. And without starting a whole huge other conversation, it is the largest concentration of Scientologists in the world. We're Scientologists. So it's really cool to have that community as well.
I'm now peering around you to look at the new Scientology building across the street.
EC: So pretty. It was a parking lot.
It was! I would like to talk about Scientology later. You became an actor when you were a kid.
EC: I was going to school with a girl who was an actor. And I was, like, "No, I want to be an actor." I told my parents I wanted an agent, and they decided to let me have a go at it. Then I started working right away. I was 12.
What was your first job ever?
EC: It was a McDonald's commercial.
I'm going to ask you about random things you've been in both before and after Traffic. Leave It to Beaver in 1997 was your first movie. What was that like?
EC: I remember thinking, This is fun — this is a job, but I like being here. You kind of have a lot of responsibility, no matter how old you are. People are counting on you, and I think that's a good thing to grow up with that. You'd better step up to the plate.
That doesn't seem good for every child actor?
EC: It could be bad. But just kind of theoretically and philosophically, granting a kid the respect: "You're important." Not in a way, like, "You'd better perform or else," but, "We value your contribution here."
You were on a CBS show in 1999 called Thanks that was a comedy about Puritans in the 17th Century.
EC: Oh yeah. It was a pretty British comedy, and it did not hit. It was kind of too clever for its own good somehow.
Did you wear a Puritan outfit?
EC: Yeah, the bonnet and the whole skirt and everything. I thought it was a good show, but I definitely understood why people didn't get it. It was kind of anachronistic. The joke would be kids are always kids. Like, "I'm going to my room!" But there's no room; it's like a log cabin and she just goes across to the other side of the room and throws herself on her bed.
That's very funny!
EC: The biggest story for me to come out of that is getting to work with Cloris Leachman. She was probably exactly how you might imagine her — she's just a wild woman. She's such a pro, and at the same time, if she wrapped early, she'd be, like, See ya, giving everybody the finger on the way out. She's not crazy; she's just really free. I haven't seen her since.
I saw her once when I was at a valet and she got into the passenger seat of a Town Car, took off her shoes, and put her feet on the front windshield.
EC: She could give a shit. She's like the female Bill Murray.
Swimfan is a crazy movie. Fatal Attraction in high school. Very sexualized.
EC: Crazy movie. I was kind of a late bloomer myself, so that was very weird to be, like, This is my job! Looking back on it now, I'm kind of impressed with myself because that character is so insane. I remember the yelling. I'm so glad that nobody made me aware of what I was doing at the time. It's still my philosophy now to really disconnect. The lines between the character and me are so distinct that I let her do whatever the hell she wants to do, and I go on with my life. And whatever she does is not my fault. What was her name? Madison Bell! Madison is not my fault.
No comments:
Post a Comment