Decades ago, a producer reviewed the screen test of a
young British actress named Judi Dench. His verdict:
"You have every single thing wrong with your face."
Fortunately, Dench is not the sort of woman who's easily
daunted. Not only has she enjoyed a stellar career on the
English stage, but she has now become the darling of movie
fans, thanks to her regal roles in "Mrs. Brown" and "Shakespeare in Love." In the latter film, she used just eight minutes of screen time to make an
indelible impression as Queen
Elizabeth I, taking home the
1999 Academy Award for
Best Supporting Actress.
"Chocolat," in which she
plays a grandmother who
rediscovers the joy of life, has
won her additional plaudits,
including recognition as
ShoWest's 2001 Supporting Actress of
the Year.
Dench, now 66, was born in Yorkshire to a stagestruck doctor and his Irish wife. She followed her elder brother into the acting profession, but her first onstage ventures garnered few raves. Her mad scenes as Ophelia in a 1957 Old Vie production of "Hamlet" hardly impressed critic Kenneth Tynan, who called her "a pleasing but terribly sane little thing." Soon after, however, she gained acclaim for her work in both classical and modern roles. In 1987. when asked by director Peter Hall to star in Shakespeare's "Antony and Cleopatra," she felt herself much too old (at 52) and too short (at five feet, two inches) to play the beauteous queen of Egypt. Never one to mince words, she asked Hall, "Are you sure you want Cleopatra played by a menopausal dwarf?" Still, the part became one of her biggest stage triumphs. In 1999, when she performed in "Amy's View" on Broadway, a New York Times critic rhapsodized over her as "a short, rather square-shaped woman with a puckish face who, you would swear, is the most ravishing creature you have ever laid eyes on."
To Dench, the New York production of "Amy's View" was particularly special because her dressing room at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre had belonged to Marlon Brando and Karl Malden during the 1947 premiere of "A Streetcar Named Desire." Always prone to salty humor, she told backstage visitors: "I detect their spirits. I think Marlon peed in the basin. Karl behaved properly — he went to the loo." Such irreverence is part of what draws friends to Dench. She does not stand on ceremony. Although Queen Elizabeth II made her a Dame of the British empire in 1988, she'd far rather be called "Judi." She enjoys practical jokes and has relished her role as M in three James Bond films as much as her more dignified stage appearances.
The Bond trio — "GoldenEye," "Tomorrow Never Dies" and "The World Is Not Enough'"— are among the few of her movies that Dench has willingly watched. Dench insists that "in a film, there's too much of me. In the theater, I can sublimate myself and my personality much more, I can make people forget who I am. I can fool you into thinking I'm much taller than I am. In a film you're cast for what you look like." But director Stephen Frears feels Dench undervalues herself as a screen actress: "What's really interesting is that she wasn't sexy when she was young. She was always a fantastic stage actress, but it was later that she literally taught herself to act in films. It came together — acting in films and some extra womanliness — and she's become very sexy, heartbreaking and wonderful."
Dench's fellow actors agree, Ian Holm, a friend for 40 years, says, "Judi's sort of a saint, really. She's constantly giving, giving, giving — doing things for people." British actress Eileen Atkins calls her "that remarkable thing — a good woman who's a lot of fun." A devout Quaker, Dench is now coping with the loss of her husband of 30 years, actor Michael Williams, who died of cancer on Jan. 11th. She also has a much-loved daughter and grandson and devotes some of her rare leisure time to arts and animal-rights causes.
Dench recently mused that "I would like to play someone glamorous. It would be great to dress up in a nice dress with makeup and look like a sex symbol for once." Still, she found something tonic about playing a worn-down 80-year-old in "Chocolat." In her words, "It's actually quite nice to get out of makeup at the end of the day and look better on your way home than you did all day long."
Thanks to Mike Kennedy for transcribing and sending me this article which appeared in the Hollywood Reporter on March 7, 2001.