PART THREE
1
WHAT DOES IT mean to get naked?
Over the years I would ask that question many times and for different reasons, and come up with a variety of answers, though the first time I posed that question it meant just that: What does it mean to get naked? I had read Joe Eszterhas’s script Showgirls and was on my way to audition for director Paul Verhoeven. The two of them were responsible for the huge box-office success of the sexy thriller Basic Instinct, and the hype around Showgirls made it the hottest property in Hollywood—and also one of the scariest. The story about a young girl who climbed the Las Vegas ladder from stripper to showgirl required near-constant toplessness and seemed likely to push the boundaries of an NC-17 rating.
After reading the script, though, I knew the nudity was very real. This was a movie where whomever was cast as Nomi would have to step fully into the role and out of herself, and I wondered if I could do that. At twenty-four years old, I wasn’t far from those days in Japan when I refused to pose for pictures in a bra and underwear, and this movie required exposing way more than that. I had to ask myself if I could do it, and if I answered yes, what would it mean to get naked? Would the risk be worth it? Would I be cheapening myself?
From the many discussions I had with Chuck, I knew one thing for sure: people in and out of the business were going to talk about whoever got the role. It was going to be impossible not to have an opinion, and whatever that opinion was, it was going to be extreme. As written, the role was one of the most daring parts for a young actress in years, if for no other reason than what she was going to have to show, physically and emotionally. It was definitely a dance on the high wire without a safety net. Despite being comfortable with my body, I was not exactly the exhibitionist type. But after reading the script several times, I was able to talk myself into a place where I could see the nudity was about the character, not me. Once I got there, I decided to go for it; I was ready for the high wire.
As I did with every audition, I tried to dress appropriately for the role. For this, I wore a simple dress. It let the director see my body without being overt.
He also saw a lot of other actresses and eventually opted for Elizabeth Berkley, the talented and beautiful actress from Saved by the Bell, who was also looking to make the leap from TV to movie star. In the end, reviewers savaged both the movie and Elizabeth, the latter unfairly, and I suppose I was lucky, in a way, to have not gotten the part. But I’ve always admired Elizabeth’s courage. I remember reading an interview in which she said that, like the character, she was turned on by challenge, and that’s why she sought the role and went for broke. I understood. I would’ve done the same thing. Interestingly, at least from my vantage, she was much more exposed in the aftermath, when she was hurt and having to put on a brave face in the wake of terrible criticism, than she was in any scene in the movie. But all of us are the same way after any project, whether you’ve made a movie or given a PowerPoint presentation at the office. Everyone has boobs and a rear end. But when your emotions are raw and on the surface, you’re naked in a whole other way that feels even more vulnerable.
So what does it mean to get naked?
I remember feeling way too exposed in another way when I worked on the TV movie In the Blink of an Eye. It was a month-long shoot in Utah, and rather than put me up in a hotel there, the production company had me fly back and forth to Salt Lake from L.A. I probably would’ve been fine with that if not for an extremely turbulent flight from Hawaii a year earlier that had turned me into one of those fear-of-flying freaks. (I’m a much better flier these days.)
On my first trip to Salt Lake, I landed covered neck to ankle in red, swollen, itchy hives. A friend from the movie met me at the airport and took me straight to the emergency room. They gave me a shot of adrenaline and I looked more normal than not by the time I got to the set. I wished the same thing had happened on my next trip into town. I flew in at night and went straight to my hotel, with my hives, hoping they would be gone by morning. The PA called at 5:00 a.m. to say he was in the lobby to pick me up. I lied and told him that I ate something that I was allergic to and had a horrible reaction. I had to lie, I didn’t want him to think I was nuts. When he saw me, he said, “Oh, wow, yeah that’s pretty bad!” My lips looked like a collagen experiment. My whole face was blown up! I was so embarrassed! He took me to the hospital where I told the doctor the truth and he gave me a shot of adrenaline. He gave me that plus a Benadryl, so I was zonked by noon and barely able to get through my scenes. The point? If you take your shirt off, people stare once or twice. But if you have mysterious red things on your lip and it’s puffy for no apparent reason, people stare all day long, thinking, “What’s going on with her?” And though I didn’t know it then, it’s much worse when you’re in the grocery store and your face is on the cover of every tabloid and gossip website. But in many other situations I’ve bared my soul and been far more exposed than if I’d bared my body. The same is true for all of us.
So what does it mean to get naked?
It depends.
2
I HAD TO broach the subject again on the movie Starship Troopers. It was about a year and a half later when I auditioned for the role of starship pilot Carmen Ibanez, and Paul Verhoeven, the director, remembered having met me. The big-budget film was based on Robert Heinlein’s Hugo Prize–winning novel about a time in the future when people had to battle giant bugs threatening to destroy human life. I auditioned five or six times before they had me screen-test with Casper Van Dien, who was cast as the lead, Johnny Rico. Since Casper and I had auditioned so many times together before our screen test, we had good chemistry and hoped that would come across. We were hoping we both would be cast in the movie. This process went on for a couple of months. A few days after our screen test, I met Chuck at his office before going to a premiere with him, and he was grinning like a kid with good news when I walked in. I’d gotten the part. I was so excited to get that part. It was a lot of auditions and hard work, and I couldn’t believe I actually got a movie that was going to be in a theater! The first person I called was my mom. She was crying, I will never forget it. She was so happy for me! A few of my actor friends were like, “It’s a six-month shoot?! Ugh!” But I didn’t care that the shoot was long, I was working on a real studio movie.
In Hollywood terms, this was a major step up. I was going from guest spots on TV shows to a key role in a more than $100 million budget motion picture that was going to open around the world. Before shooting began, I did a four-episode arc on Melrose Place.An actor on the show and a couple of the production people couldn’t believe I was leaving for “the bug movie,” as they called it. But I was excited. I was going to be flying supersonic planes and shooting weapons—all pretend, of course, but very cool. Also, when Paul turned his attention to casting my character’s romantic interest, I suggested my friend Pat, who’d made a name for himself on Days of Our Lives and Melrose Place, and he got the part, which made it like a party.
All of us became good friends: Casper, Pat, Jake Busey, and Dina Meyer. We all were at the same stage in our careers—basically thrilled to have the job, which didn’t seem like work anyway. To get us in the kind of shape where we looked like “fearless and square-jawed” fighters, as Entertainment Weekly described us, we worked out daily with a trainer at the studio gym, and then, after about a month, they sent us to boot camp in Wyoming, where we had to tough it out in rough conditions, including a freak blizzard that caught us unprepared. Everyone’s sense of humor came out and we had a bonding experience as we huddled together in a tent in the middle of the night to keep warm.
Work on the movie itself was long, hard, and deeply satisfying, especially when Paul said he was satisfied with a scene. His approach each day was intensely passionate and creative, and all about executing his vision. One afternoon, he asked to speak with me. We sat down and he said he’d written an additional scene into the script, a love scene, and it required me to take my top off. He asked how I felt about that; if I was willing to do it. The multiple nuances contained in that question made it incredibly hard to answer on the spot. I’m also the kind of person who has a gut reaction to something, but I’ve taught myself to then step back for a moment or two (or three) and think about it from different angles to make sure my first instinct is correct. I consider the immediate effect of my answer, the longer-term effects, and then the best- and worst-case scenarios. In this instance, my radar was flashing a red warning light. We were well into shooting. Why did the director suddenly want me to add this sexy scene? Was it needed in the movie? Did it relate to my character? Or was it going to be one of those scenes where the action paused while the young actress showed her breasts? Cue the teenage boys in the audience. Beyond that, I had to consider the man asking. He wielded a measure of power in the business; what if I said no? What would the repercussions be?
To his credit, when Paul asked, he did it with no strings attached. He truly left it up to me, and after careful consideration I said no. I didn’t think it related to my character or the movie, which had more than enough going on between the action and the undercurrents of social and political commentary. Though he tried to persuade me otherwise, Paul didn’t try so hard that I felt pressured, and ultimately I didn’t do it. Thankfully, I never experienced any fallout.
In a way, that movie spoiled me forever. My agent, Chuck, told me not to get used to it. My next movie could be a gritty independent with a crappy budget. The sets on Starship were incredible. Delicious food was catered every day. My sister felt as if she’d entered a different world when she visited the set with her two-year-old son, Alec; I took my parents to the red-carpet premiere in Beverly Hills; I received positive mentions in reviews; and after its opening weekend, November 7, 1997, Starship was number one at the box office. I knew I’d taken a step forward in the business. This was fun. I wanted to keep going.
I couldn’t wait to see what was next.
3
FOUR MONTHS AFTER wrapping Starship Troopers, I received the script for Wild Things, which I recognized for what it was—a smartly written erotic thriller set among high school students highlighted by a threesome designed to turn on every red-blooded moviegoer between the ages of fifteen and fifty. Neve Campbell had already been cast in the lead role, along with Kevin Bacon and Bill Murray in crucial supporting parts. They were still looking for the other females, the spark that would ignite the fire, so to speak.
I’ve never had a problem with sexy movies. Basic Instinct and 9½ Weeks are examples of excellent adult-themed movies that also cause your inner thermometer to rise. Liking them is one thing, but starring in one is another. I read Wild Things several times, thought about the nudity, and talked to Chuck about the pluses and minuses of taking on such a role, before I finally agreed to audition.
Director John McNaughton liked me, but I still auditioned five times without hearing anything other than they liked me. I read on tape, and then I had to read with Neve. While I was waiting to hear if I got the part, John went into the editing room with Paul Verhoeven as he worked on Starship (the movie hadn’t come out yet) and watched several scenes. After my auditions, my reading with Neve, John’s watching scenes and asking Paul how I was to work with, I got the call that I got the part! After I was cast, they cast Matt Dillon. What a fantastic group of actors for me to work with on my second movie in a theater!
I was so excited. I thought it could be a really good movie and the character was opposite my character in Starship. But it required me to cross lines that I knew I would one day have to cross for the right part. I just didn’t think that decision would be now. I always said if it was the right project and I felt that it was right, then I would do it. So here it was. While Neve had a no-nudity clause in her contract, I was still the up-and-comer without any leverage, and my breasts might as well have had their own billing separate from me. Storyboards with sketches of them went back and forth between my agent, my lawyer, the director, producers, and the studio. They were the subjects of conference calls and memos, including how much of my nipple could show. It was strangely bizarre. Mostly, I was mortified.
After many back-and-forth negotiations, it was agreed that only one of my breasts would be filmed, though the reality was they shot both, knowing I wasn’t going to sue, and they were right. After the breast storyboards, the producers asked if I was okay French-kissing Neve on camera. Usually it’s that pretend movie kiss, but they wanted a kiss kiss. I thought, “Okay, I’m sure she has nice lips.” And she did. On the set, though, I found an ally in Theresa Russell, who played my mom in the movie. An awesome presence on- and offscreen, she sat down next to me one day and advised me “to be a bitch if necessary.” In other words, if I felt that I was being taken advantage of, I could say no—and, according to her, should not hesitate to say it whenever my inner alarm went off.
“Really?” I said. “I can?”
“You have to,” she said. “You need to take care of yourself.” Right after I was cast, I had my breast surgery (more on that later) and had three weeks before I left for location—Miami.
We shot for twelve weeks in Miami. I’d flown there on the same flight as Neve, who was lovely and like me in that she was focused on the work. As soon as we got to Miami, we did a table reading (the dreaded table read; I was well prepared). We had fittings, tanning (Wild Things is where I discovered self-tanner and have been hooked ever since), and every week they set up nail appointments, which I loved. I was tan, manicured, and in good shape. They also set me up with a trainer and I had cheerleading lessons. It actually felt like camp. I think we were there two weeks before we filmed. I met the rest of the actors when I got to Miami. I was so intimidated to go from Starship Troopers, where nobody was famous, to a famous cast on this one. I was the only unknown out of all of us. I have to say, they all made me feel comfortable. Especially Kevin Bacon; he was incredibly supportive. We had group dinners and rehearsal before we started shooting. By the time we filmed, all of us had a lovely camaraderie. My second studio movie and I was spoiled again, with a fabulous trailer, amazing catering, and a huge per diem for living expenses. I had a blast working in South Beach. My sister even came out to visit a few times.
In the movie I played a popular cheerleader from a wealthy family who cries rape after her advances on a young high school counselor (Matt’s character) are rebuffed. His life and career in the small town fall apart despite his denials, and then things get worse when Neve’s character, a bad girl from the poor side of town, lodges a similar charge. But at the trial, Neve admits to lying, a multimillion-dollar settlement is negotiated, and just when it appears the problems are solved, it’s revealed that the three of them have planned the scam together. As a skeptical detective played by Kevin Bacon begins to reassess the outcome, the three key players meet up in a cheap hotel outside of town and celebrate their new wealth with a threesome.
We filmed the threesome toward the end of the shoot. As we approached the threesome, my anxiety grew worse. The first time we were scheduled to shoot it, I got to set nervous. I went through hair and makeup and body makeup. I was just finishing getting some bronze makeup on my tush when the AD came to my trailer to tell us the director was sick and couldn’t film our scenes. I was so relieved! I honestly think he may have been more nervous than the actors. I’m sure it’s hard for a director to shoot those kinds of scenes, too. They have no idea how an actress is going to react when the moment comes for disrobing. I’ve heard stories of actresses backing out at the last minute, and I’m sure John had heard those stories, too.
When the time came to shoot it for real about a week after this, I got anxious again. Looking back, being a new, young actress, I think I had a lot of guts to do this part. It was very sexual and risqué. It could’ve gone in a negative direction for me. Since I got the part, and many girls auditioned for it, I figured if I didn’t take my top off, someone else would’ve. Aside from the nudity, this was a cool character for me to play. I was lucky to have such a juicy role; it was actually almost two characters. That’s what I focused on when it came time to shoot the risqué scenes. Focus on the character and block everything else out. I had the threesome and a scene with just Neve and me in a pool. The day of the shoot I began to feel vulnerable, and when I looked around for support, I realized it was one of those situations I’d have to face alone, like when I was a kid and jumped off a high dive for the first time.
John shot the scene in small segments, and the crew was reduced to the minimum, though, despite a closed set, a small army of people still watched on monitors and other places we couldn’t see. The action was discussed beforehand and carefully choreographed. It began with Matt and me. Then Neve arrived. I was undressed, Neve and I kissed, and after all of us climbed on the bed, Neve poured champagne on my naked chest. It was steamy, for sure. However, of the two most revealing scenes for me—one where Matt raises my skirt and removes my underwear and the other when my top comes off—I was much more concerned about how my butt was going to look.
Ridiculous, right? But I didn’t want my ass to look huge, and in the privacy of my trailer I practiced posing in front of the mirror with my makeup artist until we came up with an incredibly awkward way of curving my back to create what we thought was the perfect angle for my tush. It may seem hard to believe, but as we did the scene, and I stood there while Matt lifted my skirt, I was picturing the image I’d seen in my trailer and thinking, God, I hope the cameraman is getting the right shot. I guess it worked. After the movie opened, people asked if that was really my butt. Yes, it really was; to get it to look that way I was standing like a jackass. And Neve and I really did kiss—twice. Once during the threesome scene, and a second time when the two of us were alone in a swimming pool, having a fight that turned into a passionate seduction. Though the action was planned, it was still a bit surreal to get in a pool with Neve at four in the morning, kiss, and remove each other’s tops, and it turned out both of us were fraught with nerves. John was on edge, too. In fact, at his suggestion, Neve and I went into her trailer and shared a pitcher of margaritas before we did the scene. Neither of us had ever kissed another girl. We shrugged, clinked glasses, and went for it on-screen. Everyone has a first time.
4
THE MOVIE WAS red-hot before it opened. The buzz was incredible. Photos of Neve and me locking lips were leaked. Entertainment Weekly put Neve, Matt, Kevin, and me on their Spring Preview cover. After the premiere, I told reporters, “All I wanted to do was cringe during those scenes while everyone was watching.” I prohibited my parents from attending the premiere. They saw it on their own, but my mom said my dad walked out during the naughty parts. (I gave them a heads-up when they were coming.) Paul Verhoeven was actually the first person to call me after the movie opened. He was so supportive and teased me about getting naked in that movie, but not, his. He said he would find me a sexy movie for us to do together. (Come to think of it, I’m still waiting for that movie, Paul!)
With Starship, I did press with the junkets, premiere, and a couple appearances and a Planet Hollywood event in New York. With Wild Things, I did a ton of press, including The Tonight Show, newspaper and magazine interviews, and a promotional tour. Racy photos lifted from Wild Things exploded across the Internet. The result? All of a sudden, I found myself, at age twenty-six, recast in the public mind as Hollywood’s newest sex symbol. It was my first taste of the way the media can shape or reshape reality, creating an image that is virtually independent of the truth, and while not unpleasant, it was both strange and surreal. What would people expect of me? Was I really this person? If not, who was I? And most important, who did I want to be?
On the plus side, I had a blast showing up at events such as the MTV Movie Awards, where Neve and I lost out on the year’s Best Kiss to Gwyneth Paltrow and Joseph Fiennes for Shakespeare in Love. I also traveled to Italy, where a designer made an original gown for each celebrity. It was my first trip to Europe. I took my boyfriend, Pat, and the trip was magical.
We flew to Milan, where I was fitted for my gorgeous gown. Then we were driven to Florence for an event. On the first night, we were invited to someone’s villa for a pre-event dinner, where I ate something that didn’t sit well, and I spent the night doing everything I could to not throw up. Poor Pat. At 2:00 a.m., he was walking the streets, looking for Imodium, while I was sprawled on the cold balcony floor praying I’d feel better. Fortunately, it was just a twenty-four-hour bug. The next night, after losing about three pounds, I put on my gown and we went to a palace for the most incredible party. Before returning to normal life, we spent a few more days in Florence, visited Pat’s grandfather in Croatia, and wrapped up the trip with a spectacular time in Venice.
Amid all the hoopla and attention, I could see how people got in trouble when they began believing their press. After being in a couple of hit movies, everyone was nice to me. Invitations to parties and premieres came in. Playboy magazine asked if I’d do a pictorial. It was like going to high school one day and being accepted into the popular group, except that I knew I wasn’t any different from before. Thank goodness my gut always told me to take things slow and be wary of things that seemed too good to be true.
Having the press was lovely, but I didn’t want to be just the flavor of the month.
I had two studio movies in theaters that people actually went to see and I wanted to continue working. To this day: with every part I’ve had, I always think I’m going to get fired, and after every job, I always think I’m never going to work again. I am always focused on what’s next.
I was amused at finding myself called a sex symbol. Sure, it was a wonderful compliment, but the reality was, at twenty-six, I had my good days and bad days, like anyone else. I still remembered being called Fish Lips and Bucky Beaver. It was all about keeping perspective. Hollywood’s glamorous perks were fabulous, but I’d been raised to know that if I wanted to feel beautiful and sexy, it had to be because of how I felt on the inside, not from anything I could buy or wear.
I know, cliché. We hear that over and over, but only because it’s true. But here’s something I learned early on. First of all, I am a girly girl and I love having my hair done or makeup put on by a professional. I just do. Expert stylists do it so much better than I do. To this day, I still can’t do my own hair well, and I have tried. Makeup—I have learned good lessons from some of the best, but I still like having it done. I would be lying if I said I didn’t. I love the fabulous clothes I get to wear on a photo shoot or at an event, as well as the cool wardrobe created for a character and beautiful diamonds borrowed to go with a couture gown. But none of that stuff lasts. Even the most expensive designer clothes are only worn for a few hours at most, and at the end of a red carpet event, the jewelry gets returned and the limo drives away. Then you’re back in your sweats or T-shirt eating ice cream at the end of the night watching TiVo. I can’t remember all the times I felt like Cinderella at the ball. Even those women who’ve been attending big events for thirty years will tell you the trick is feeling great about yourself when you’re out of your golden carriage and back in your pumpkin.
It doesn’t matter who sees you naked; you have to feel comfortable in your own skin, and believe me, it took lessons to learn that and time for me to feel comfortable in my own skin. When I did get all dolled up by professionals and saw an image of myself on a magazine cover, at times I felt unattractive when I didn’t look like that image I was portraying. I had to realize that is the image portrayed on that magazine cover and I don’t have to look like that when I get gas in my car.
After completing press for Wild Things, I made the movie Tail Lights Fade in Vancouver, and when I got back to L.A., I was greeted with the news that I’d been offered a role in the film Drop Dead Gorgeous, a satire of beauty pageants already boasting Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Murphy, Kirstie Alley, and Ellen Barkin. Talk about every struggling actress’s fantasy. Instead of having to audition, this plum role had been offered to me, I didn’t have to audition for it!
The movie shot over the summer in Minnesota, and I took my mom, who’d grown up in that area of the country. She enjoyed revisiting that area and hanging out with the girls. Kirsten and I got manicures every week together, and all of us went out at night for dinner. I especially loved Kirstie, and to this day we are still friends. Drop Dead Gorgeous has a scene with me singing about Jesus and dancing with him. While we were shooting that scene, extras were in the audience. I guess a lot of them were religious, and not having read the script, they walked out in the middle of filming. They were quite offended by my flinging Jesus around during my silly dance.
When I returned home from Minnesota, I was enjoying the rest of the summer with friends, and Pat and I were hanging out. Again, thinking I was never going to work again, I was reading scripts and anxiously wanting my next job. I was happy making money, and my accountant thought it was time to think about buying my own home. I was thrilled! At heart, I am a nester, a nester who loves to travel, obviously influenced by growing up in a strong, stable family with parents who were do-it-yourselfers and constantly redoing or tinkering to make a home cozier and more comfy. I wanted that, too.
I made a dream list—a list of dreams—something I think everyone should do starting in their twenties, and then go from there. Start ticking them off. The quality of your life is different when you pursue your dreams rather than put them off. It had taken my dad a few years to redo our house in Downers Grove. He did a little bit every day. But he finished. Then it was on to California. Acting had been on my list. So had taking my mom to Hawaii. Now a house with a big enough yard for a dog topped it. I started house hunting but was fearful. What if I bought the damn house and wasn’t able to pay my mortgage?
5
IN THE FALL of 1998, I auditioned for the part of Dr. Christmas Jones, “the next Bond girl,” in the movie The World Is Not Enough. Though I’d never seen a James Bond movie (I know that’s hard to believe), I knew being a Bond girl had its pluses and minuses. Some women never escaped the stigma, others used it to their advantage.
On a good run, I asked Chuck whether that was the right move for me, and after some debate, I auditioned. A short time later, they flew me to London for a screen test. I went in late November with my dad, and the two of us spent Thanksgiving going over my scenes for my screen test. I did fittings one day at Pinewood Studios, a screen test there another day, and then my dad and I crammed in a day of sightseeing before returning home.
The following week a reporter from Details magazine was interviewing me for a cover story when Chuck called with exciting news. I got the part. I didn’t understand the full magnitude of being the next Bond girl until I turned on CNN a few nights later and saw myself on the screen, the subject of a story announcing that I’d been cast as nuclear weapons expert Dr. Christmas Jones opposite Pierce Brosnan in the next James Bond movie. And it wasn’t just on CNN. It was everywhere—other TV entertainment shows, magazines, and newspapers here in the United States and around the world.
News broke the first week of December 1998 and production began in January 1999. I flew back to London with my mom for wardrobe fittings and to find an apartment that would be my home for the next six months. We found a cute two-bedroom in a building near Kensington Palace. It was adjacent to Hyde Park, which was beautiful even in the middle of January. For the first two weeks, I loved being there; then I started to feel lonesome and homesick. I always loved being on location for a movie. I love bonding with the cast and hanging out, getting to know one another. This experience was different. I had nobody to hang out with. Pierce was with his family, the crew all had families in London, and Sophie Marceau was in and out to Paris, where her family lived. I was lonely on this long shoot, but it was a huge opportunity and I sucked it up, focused on my work, and asked my mom to fly out and see me. My first scene was with Dame Judi Dench. I literally felt sick my first day. I had one line and it kept me up all night. I never sleep the night before my first day on a new set. It’s like your first day of school. I was up all night with anxiety of my one line with the fabulous Judi Dench.
It was a Bond movie. Everything was over-the-top, starting with the plot, which had James Bond saving the world from a nuclear meltdown. Luckily the folks behind the scenes were laid-back, starting with Pierce, who was in his third go-round as the international spy. Bond movies are hugely successful, and the producers making these movies have a well-oiled machine. Many units are going at once. When I wasn’t at one, I was doing stunts at another. Not as much was required of me—I was fine running around in shorts and a tank top (like every top female nuclear scientist). I returned to L.A. when I had some days off to do press and photo shoots for Drop Dead Gorgeous. I also got a makeup campaign for Max Factor, I flew ten hours and went right to my photo shoot. I looked crappy after getting straight off the plane to shoot a makeup ad, but thank God for hair, makeup, and fabulous lighting. When I found myself with still more time off that spring, Pat flew out and we spent three days in Paris, where I discovered what it means to be in the public eye.
As we explored the city, which I loved, I noticed people were staring at me. Not just glancing the way you do when you think you recognize someone; they were checking me out. At first I thought it was my imagination, but whether Pat and I were in a café, walking along the river, or strolling in and out of Left Bank shops, I saw people looking at me. It made me a little self-conscious. What the hell were they looking at?
Then, one afternoon, we walked into the Virgin Megastore and Pat and I saw enormous posters of Neve and me from Wild Things on the walls. It had been retitled Sex Crimes. Oh my God, I was that girl and it was called Sex Crimes, which for some reason embarrassed me a little bit. Afterward, I started noticing the poster all around the city—in stores, subways, everywhere, and people started coming up asking for my autograph and a picture with me. I still get shy when people ask me to take a picture. I always think people walking by are looking at me taking a photo with someone and going, “Who the hell is that?” Same with the paparazzi, I feel so stupid when there are quite a few of them snapping away and people wondering who the heck I am. But that was a tiny prelude to the scrutiny that came my way.
When The World Is Not Enough opened in November 1999, my life became all about promoting the movie. I attended nearly thirty premieres around the world, starting in L.A., though the month before that was filled with meetings, fittings, photoshoots, and preparation for interviews. I did a huge spread for Vanity Fair. Annie Leibovitz shot every Bond girl. What a shoot that was! I was thrilled to be doing my first world tour for a movie. I had a blast. I went to so many different countries. The hair and makeup artist who did all my press shoots, whom I had become good friends with, came with me. We had fun! We flew to Ireland for our first stop, and Pierce and I presented an MTV award to Britney Spears. After the awards show, we all went to a private after-party where Bono and Iggy Pop performed. It was an unforgettable night. From there we went to the London premiere of Bond, and then it was Belgium, Berlin, Paris, Madrid, Finland, and Amsterdam. I saw so many beautiful places and met the most incredible people. That to me was the biggest gift I got from doing the movie. I was so blessed to travel and see the world and it was a whirlwind. As soon as we landed in each country I went straight into hair and makeup, pulled a dress out of my trunk that was packed by a stylist, did a press conference, press junket, premiere, party, bed, and off to the next place in the morning. Unfortunately, the reviews I got made it hard to suck it up during my interviews. Except for Roger Ebert, reviewers followed the harsh route of the Chicago Tribune’s Michael Wilmington, who wrote, “There’s the script—and that’s the problem.” Actually, most were meaner, and I felt I was unduly singled out. “How could she play a scientist in hot pants and a halter top?” critics asked. The barbs were so bad that Michael Apted told Entertainment Weekly, “I hope I didn’t hang her out to dry.”
I knew you had to have thick skin in this business, but this was my first time receiving criticism, and it stung. It was so public. Talk about being stripped naked. Right before going on MTV’s Total Request Live before heading to Europe, I found a USA Todayreview of the movie in the dressing room. I’d been taught to avoid reviews for this very reason. This one slammed the movie, and me! How was I going to go out on live TV and put on a happy face about the movie? How the hell was I going to do nearly four weeks of press across Europe knowing people thought the movie sucked and I was a terrible actress? Devastated, I called home. Both of my parents got on the phone and provided the support and common sense I needed to move forward.
“It’s only other people’s opinions, it’s just a review,” my dad said. “It’s not who you are.”
“Denise,” my mom said, “just hold your head up high. Let people see the real you. They’ll know the difference. You have a lot of fun ahead of you.”
She was right. But I was depressed about it. I had a horrible pit in my stomach and I was embarrassed doing my interviews, feeling as if every journalist were making fun of my performance. Whether or not it was true, it was how I felt. For the record, years later EW named me the worst Bond girl, so I was right. Some were making fun of my performance, but, hey, I was a Bond girl! The European tour more than compensated for the criticism. Before the London premiere, the producers gave Sophie and me each a lavish thank-you gift—a diamond and sapphire bracelet. Later, I gave it to my mom. My business had lots of perks, but none came close to the gift of being able to go home to my family. There were probably some movies I shouldn’t have done along the way that weren’t best for my career, but they did allow me to buy a home for my parents and I bought a new truck for my dad’s fiftieth birthday; it meant a lot that I was able to do that for my family.