She'll be back

STOCKBRIDGE -- Linda Hamilton is an indiscriminate hugger: She hugs everyone. And no -- hold the "Terminator" jokes -- hers is not a lethal embrace, but the warm hearted impulse of a woman brimming over with a love of life, and with a renewed ardor for her chosen profession. The action films that made her an international star two decades ago she now describes as "a sharp, 90-degree turn" that took her away from her roots in theater. Last summer, she played the libertine Maxine in "The Night of the Iguana" at the Berkshire Theatre Festival; this year, on Wednesday, she returned as control freak Nurse Ratched in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." Early one recent morning, before a near-flawless "stumble-through" two weeks into rehearsal, Hamilton described how a once-timid girl learned to "go big" -- and why Nurse Ratched is not just a cold hearted control freak.

Q What would move you, two years running, to trade your house in Malibu for far humbler quarters in the Berkshires?

A I'm in a rented room, which I'm sharing with my 14 -year-old daughter -- and that's not easy! The bedroom's all right; it's the bathroom I'm really having trouble with. But I really do think of my time here as an investment in my future. Hopefully, at the end of my career, I will have a great number of these productions under my belt.

Q Did it take some courage on your part to take up stage acting after such a successful film career? Do you find theater to be more of a challenge?

A Yes, because you have to build it every day -- you know, stack a performance. You work and create something and then leave it behind onstage, and come back the next day and pick that up and add to it. And the energy requirement onstage is huge. You're on for two hours straight, with no chance for mistakes. It is as exhausting as it is enthralling.

Q How did you and the Berkshire Theatre Festival first become acquainted?

A I flew myself in to New York last year to audition, because they were like, "Linda who?" I remain so under the radar, I don't think anyone knew whether I was capable or not. I said to them, "I think I just spent more than you're paying, to get myself here." They said, "Did you fly first class?" and I said, "Of course," and they said, "Then you did." I think they felt sorry for me, that I'd invested so much in getting myself there, so they hired me.

Q You started out studying theater, at the Lee Strasberg Theatre Institute in Manhattan. How did you make the leap to film?

A I was actually kicked out of New York by my agents, because I was so shy. My process was very quiet and internal. My agents said, "You're going to be strong on film," but they all agreed that I didn't have what it took to go and grab people's attention.

Q But they must have seen something in you initially or they wouldn't have signed you.

A I did a production of "Richard III" at the Actors' Studio. I played young Elizabeth, who had no lines -- perfect for me! So that's how I got agents; that was what began my career. I was lucky that I didn't have to go and knock down doors. I went to LA at my agents' insistence, and, as I got to do one film after another, ultimately I found my strength.

Q As a shy person, how did you get involved in acting?

A I did some children's theater. The first part that I really shone in was playing Badger in "Wind in the Willows." I remember coming out from under a bunch of leaves and getting to scare the bejesus out of little kids. And I remember the thrill of being so much bigger than I really was -- large and mean and scary -- and falling in love with that power.

Q Perhaps there's a parallel with Nurse Ratched? She's pretty scary.

A She is. But I'm playing her as a very, very nice person. She thinks she is doing what's best for the patients. She really does believe that discipline is the only way to reach these fellows. You don't necessarily read a part as an actor and say, "I have to love this character," but: "I have to find her true purpose." And being mean or nasty or cold -- those are not things you can play. Those are things you put on, but they're not going to power the character and motivate her. So you need that intention. Intention is everything.

Q Did you draw on any real-life models?

A Nurse Ratched is a wonderful amalgam of all the people in my family, being that my twin sister is a nurse. And I don't mean to be mean- spirited at all, but I understand this woman because my mom had four children in three years, and then my father died in a car accident when I was 5. We were raised in a loving and wonderful home, but she ruled us with an iron fist. And I think maybe the reason that I'm an actress today is because there wasn't a lot of room for self-expression. I was the rebel in the family -- the one that had to be put back into her place over and over again. And years later, as I began the obligatory therapy and was just full of myself and full of self-righteousness, I of course confronted my mother, as angry young women will do, and said, "Why? Why were we not allowed to express ourselves?" And she said, "Well, there were four of you and only one of me. I figured that if I allowed it, it would just go out of control, and I would never, ever get it back." So that basically is Nurse Ratched. Not that my mother is Nurse Ratched -- I want to be very clear! Even as a young woman, I just went, "Oh, yeah, I get that." And that was it: All was forgiven. And really, now, as a parent, I know that we all just do the best we can -- and good luck!

Q You seem to have overcome that little problem with expressiveness.

A I actually have to really work to neutralize it in this play. Because the actors are so good that when one of the fellows is breaking down, my face will be like, "Awwww." And then, wait a minute! It's hard, because I really do have this monkey face: It just does things. And that doesn't work for Nurse Ratched. If something makes her feel, then her response is to angrily go for what caused it. She cares a lot; she just doesn't know how to express it. There's a syndrome called "nurse rescuer": people who so want to help the world that that in its own way can be an illness. You're interfering, and needing to be needed in a way that isn't healthy. I'm not saying that nurses aren't well, or trying to diss an entire occupation. But sometimes motivation can get really skewed: the way it's expressed or acted upon is something else. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." She wants these boys to get well.

Q You've spoken publicly, on "Larry King," about your own struggles with mental illness.

A With depression -- bipolar disorder. Which certainly contributed to some behaviors in my youth: I was a little self-absorbed for about 25 years. . . . It was as if there was only room for me, but it was still loud and crowded. You think about the fusses you made over the stupidest little things! In a way, I guess, all that anger and stuff catapulted me into being the monster action - adventure queen that I was for a bit, but that's a very stressful way to live, and it's not the person I was raised to be.

Q It's hard to feel concern for others when you've got a battle going on inside.

A There are so many people who do what we do who just can't get out of themselves enough, and to me, that is not the measure of a life well lived. A life well lived is the real connection between people, which is all I'm really after -- onstage, offstage, anywhere, any time.

Sandy MacDonald can be reached at sandy@sandymacdonald.com.