Random Roles Patty Duke

The actor: Patty Duke, who began her career as a child actress on television in the ’50s, and has gone on to win three Emmys and an Oscar during her 50-plus years in the business. In the late ’80s, Duke also penned a bestselling autobiography, Call Me Anna, detailing the abusive home life of her youth (first with her parents, then with her managers), as well as her struggles with substance abuse and mental illness, and her lifelong effort to defy the studios’ and networks’ attempts to pigeonhole her.

The Goddess (1958)—“Emily Ann Faulkner, Age 8”

Patty Duke: One of my very first movies. Paddy Chayefsky conducted the audition, and I knew even at that very young age that I was in the presence of greatness. We made the film in Ellicott City, Maryland, where one of my sons lives now. John Cromwell, who directed, let me bring what I could bring to it, and of course aimed me in the right direction. One of the things I realized many years later was that it was a role with a beginning, a middle, and an end. When the little girl says to her cat, “I got promoted today,”…well, as an adult, it speaks to a place in me of such sorrow and longing. I didn’t know completely then how proud and thrilled I would be to be a part of it. Kim Stanley has been one of my few idols from that moment on; also because of the live television show we did together [Kraft Theater, “The Glass Wall”]. I absorbed a ton of acting information from her.

The A.V. Club: She plays the older version of your character in The Goddess, right?

PD: Right.

AVC: Did you compare notes, to try to create some continuity between each other’s take on the character? Or is that more the writer and director’s job?

PD: You know, that would be a wonderful way to go. Unfortunately, the way they shoot films, you usually never see the other person. Very often, I run into actors who would talk about how we were in the same movie, and neither one of us knew the other was there. [Laughs.] I got lucky and I did see Kim, but we didn’t have anything together. I learned from her more on the live television show.

AVC: That film was relatively mature for its time, and you were a very young actress when you made it. Were you allowed to watch the whole movie?

PD: No, as a matter of fact. But not because of the more mature subject matter. The people that I lived with, who were my managers—a man and his wife—they did not allow me to watch anything that I did. On live television, there was no threat, because it was on once and that was it. But y’know, I never saw The Patty Duke Show until I was about 38. [Laughs.] I understand their thinking, which was, “We don’t want to become you to become self-conscious, we don’t want you to become swell-headed.” On the other hand, in my 30s and 40s, I found it very beneficial to watch my work, to catch some moments that I thought I could have done more truthfully.

The Patty Duke Show (1963-66)—“Patty/Cathy Lane”

AVC: What was it like watching The Patty Duke Show for the first time at age 38?

PD: Well, I continue, at age 64, to be horrified by her hairstyle. [Laughs.] Other than that, what I noticed was that it wasn’t as goofy as I thought it was going to be. The parents were parents, the kids were kids, and there were consequences for whatever the character Patty got poor Cathy into.

AVC: Did you prefer to play one character over the other?

PD: Yes, I preferred Cathy. She seemed more dignified to me. Patty did things that I was not familiar with as a teenager, because I led a different kind of life, almost a cloistered life. They would bring in regular teenagers to teach me how to do the dances and things like that, which now, when I think about it, is a little creepy. [Laughs.] But I thought it was very clever on the production’s part, because otherwise I would have been making it up as I went along, and I also would have been very inhibited.

AVC: When you watch something from that long ago, does it feel like watching your home movies, or does it feel like watching a stranger?

PD: There’s always a connection. I have a friend who makes sure that I get copies of all my historic things. When I see work from when I was 8 years old, my reaction has been very emotional. That little kid actually knew what she was doing. And I associate it of course with what was going on behind the scenes, in the home life. So I afford myself some pride that that child was quite a survivor.

4D Man (1959)—“Marjorie Sutherland”

PD: I have very little memory of the film itself, or the filming. I remember staying with the family of the director, and being taught to ride a bicycle. I was a city kid. And I remember the smells of the autumn there, in Pennsylvania. It’s interesting how smells can trigger things. Autumn here in Idaho is similar to Pennsylvania, and every once in a while there will be a scent of the trees or the earth or whatever, and I suddenly remember feeling wonderful back then, doing that picture. But I was horrified that Robert Lansing killed me. [Laughs.] He was such a nice man, I thought.

The Miracle Worker (1962)—“Helen Keller”
The Miracle Worker (1979)—“Annie Sullivan”

PD: We started by doing the Broadway production two years prior to making the film, so the glorious Anne Bancroft and I certainly gelled as a team. Getting that role was exciting for me, but the doing of it with her was the true—and pardon me for trying to find new superlatives that fit—the true thrill of my lifetime to that point. And it remains one. It’s not the only thrill now. I have a wonderful husband and terrific kids, and doing The Miracle Worker with Anne comes behind all that.  But certainly being associated with that film and that story for all these years… Many actors begin to resent something they’re “known for,” and that has never happened for me with The Miracle Worker. The experience has been so enriching for all my life. It holds a very special place in my heart.

AVC: What was it like then to play the opposite role for the 1979 TV movie?

PD: Scary. Well, you know, I was walking the shoes of one of my idols, and it was clear to me that I did not want to do an imitation of her, but at the same time I knew that it was ingrained in me, her performance. For me, of course, “Teacher” will always be Anne Bancroft. Still, I worked very hard to play it real, as I saw it, and also not to imitate Anne. And I think I succeeded at that. If this is possible, I haunted myself. When we were doing the play, and the movie, I would go to sleep saying her lines. I really wanted for all those years to play that role. I think mainly to be like her. So when Melissa Gilbert and I got together, I was walking a very strict line for myself. If I heard something that sounded like Anne Bancroft’s delivery, I worked very hard to find another way. When we finished the TV movie, Melissa and I went home and put in the tape of the original Miracle Worker. And I sat there and realized that I wasn’t imitating Anne at all. I was imitating the voice in my head all those years.

And of course working with Melissa was a true gift. She was so willing to take chances and to be open. By the director’s rule, I was not allowed to give Melissa any hints or direction or suggestions. And that lasted about 10 days. [Laughs.] Of course I helped! I fell in love with her. And there were areas that weren’t coming together. So I dug deep inside of me to find a way to impart this information to her without it being, “The original Helen is now telling you how to behave!” And she just took the ball and ran with it.

Valley Of The Dolls (1967)—“Neely O’Hara”

PD: I lobbied heavily to play Neely, because I thought the book attempted to really address the addictive issues of that character. But when we made the movie, about a third of the way through, I realized that was not what was happening. And I had a very negative response to seeing the movie; I thought my work was over the top, and for years, if somebody said Valley Of The Dolls to me, I just cringed. I must say, it is the gay community across the country that has led me to enjoy it. They opened my eyes to many things about it that are fun, and have shown me that it’s all in how you look at it. There’s a scene in the movie, where Tony Scotti’s character is in an asylum, and he’s in a wheelchair, he’s got all kinds of problems, and Neely shows up, and they sing together. Well I thought—and so did Tony—that this was the Oscar for both of us. [Laughs.] And of course, people laughed at it. It took me quite a while to wrap my mind around that, but through the years, my hatred for the film has come around to enjoyment.

AVC: Mark Robson made some similarly soapy, campy movies…

PD: Well I wasn’t paying attention, obviously. [Laughs.]

AVC: … like Peyton Place. He’s not one of those who gets cited as one of the great Hollywood auteurs of his era, but he certainly had a style, don’t you think?

PD: Well for my taste, his style is not one that I would purchase. [Laughs.] And it was one of the very few uncomfortable, bordering-on-painful experiences I’ve had with a director. He was very provocative, but in a kind of sinister way. I felt that I could defend myself with my acting. That was mistake number one. [Laughs.] But I would watch how he behaved with Sharon Tate and, oh God, it made the little Yorkie in me just want to snap at his heels. He talked down to her, treated her as if she had no intelligence at all. Which was quite the opposite in reality; she was very bright, very funny, and as good inside as she was outside. So at the end of filming, they have what they call a wrap party, and it’s usually on the soundstage, with chips and dips and things like that, and alcohol. And Mr. Robson comes over to me, and he said, “Well, I got the performance out of you that I wanted.” And it was like a stake through my heart, because I never meant to give him anything. [Laughs.]

AVC: Did you think it was all tactics on his part, or was he truly a miserable bastard?

PD: It may well have been. But again, from my point of view, they were misguided tactics.

Me, Natalie (1969)—“Natalie Miller”

PD: Oh my god, I thought that movie was going to be off the charts, and of course it did not do well at all. But it is one of my very favorites. I loved playing that girl who was so free. So tortured, and so free. I loved riding around on that motor scooter in New York City. I loved getting to understand what it’s like for someone else to be different in this world. She thought she was different. I knew I was different, because I had this mental thing plaguing me. Unfortunately, I didn’t avail myself of a diagnosis until I was 35. But playing Natalie, sitting around in a dumbwaiter, having a bathtub as a couch… I really felt like I was playing in that one.

AVC: That was the era of youth movie, with inventive young filmmakers making movies about characters who felt like outsiders, or felt misunderstood. But Me, Natalie has a reputation as being more of a Hollywood version of a youth movie.

PD: I think I’d have to agree with that. But that doesn’t make it bad. That doesn’t invalidate it, in my opinion. And frankly, I’ve reached a point in my life where, if somebody doesn’t like Me, Natalie, that’s fine. I still get to like it. [Laughs.]

The Swarm (1978)—“Rita”

PD: Oh dear, oh dear. I guess it’s not an excuse that I did it for the money. I really felt very disconnected when I was actually filming. I remember enjoying the pregnancy pad, because I had fantasies of being pregnant and having a baby. So that part of it was fun. But I was in constant anxiety about the bees. Did they really cut off all the stingers? They supposedly kept all the bees in a refrigerated truck that kept them dormant or whatever. But I was so relieved when I had so little contact with those dastardly bugs.

AVC: Were you ever in the same shot with them?

PD: Yes. But Olivia de Havilland had them crawling all over her, on her eyes and in her nose. I happened to be on the set that day, and I thought, “This woman is the Zen model of all time.” [Laughs.] Most of the time, I was reacting to things or people that weren’t even there. I guess that’s called acting.

Hail To The Chief (1985)—“President Julia Mansfield”

PD: First of all, a part of you starts to think you are the president. [Laughs.] I remember just that it was a great group of people, at the top of their game. And I also wore great clothes, designed for me each week. And we had an Oval Office. I’m telling you, the first time I walked through that door, I got goosebumps. I mean, it looked like the Oval Office, which I had been in once, when I had the ecstatic thrill of meeting President Kennedy. At any rate, it was wonderfully written, by Witt/Thomas/Harris, again at the top of their game. We spent most of the time in rehearsal laughing.

AVC: Do you feel like they were aiming for, “This is what it would really be like to have a woman president”?

PD: I think they were just trying to have fun, à la Soap. Along those lines. It was a great disappointment when we were canceled. I mean, a big disappointment. We thought we were hot stuff.

AVC: Do you suspect we’ll see a female president in your lifetime?

PD: Well, some mornings I don’t think I’m going to live another minute. [Laughs.] Let me just say that I do think it’ll happen, but I have concerns about who. And though I have tremendous respect for President Obama, I was a Hillary girl. And I don’t know if she would ever choose to run again, but depending on the field, she’d probably have my vote. I don’t know. What I would love to see, just as a plain old citizen, is a person surrounded by a real support group, who really will try to accomplish what they claim they’ll accomplish. And who’ll remember what it was like to just be a regular citizen.

My Sweet Charlie (1970)—“Marlene Chambers”

PD: That was arguably the first TV movie. Supposedly. What I recall is yet another magical experience, both in the work, and in the doing of the work. It was directed by Lamont Johnson, who passed [Oct. 24, 2010]. We just had such a connection. It was almost as if he would telepathically let me know what was the right way to go. And of course, Al Freeman Jr. was just a dream. Again, sometimes you get a false sense of how good the work’s going to be, as with Valley. But here we all knew we were doing something right.

AVC: You’ve gone on to do lots and lots of TV movies, a few of which have won Emmys. It’s been a very steady and lucrative part of your career, yes?

PD: You think it’s been steady? I feel like I’ve been unemployed all the time. [Laughs.]

AVC: Well, look at your credits.

PD: I must say, my husband copied them off the Google thing, and there were four pages. And I thought, “Oh my God.” I guess I lived so in the moment that I never realized the accumulation. And on one hand, that’s nice, and on the other hand I still live in the moment, and I say, “Where’s my next job?”

Before And After (1979)—“Carole Matthews”

AVC: Do you have a favorite of all the TV movies that you made?  

PD: Oh lord.

AVC: Is that a hard question to answer?

PD: Well, certainly My Dear Charlie. But there’s also one that’s become quite obscure, called Before And After. People remember the plot when they come up and talk to me about it, but they never remember the title. Isn’t that funny? Anyway, it was called Before And After, and it was about an obese woman who’s getting divorced, and she sets her mind to losing weight, and she does. In the meantime, she learns more about herself, the interior of her as well as the exterior.

I was a replacement. Another actress was supposed to do it, and I got a call on a weekend, which as an actor you know means you’re sitting in the catbird seat. [Laughs.] At any rate, I got there within a day and a half, and the first week just felt like catch-up. After that first week, I had a ball. They had me running through Seattle streets to the Rocky theme. They changed it—they had to change it—for the film, but during the shooting, there I was, boxing with chickens in Chinatown. [Laughs.] Part of being an actress, part of the fun of being an actress, is that you get to do things that you would never do. Either because they’re socially unacceptable, or because they would never occur to you. Trying to lose weight by running through Seattle and boxing with chickens. [Laughs.] But I have had great fun through the years, because the characters that I’ve gotten to play are usually taking some sort of risk that I would not normally take.

AVC: Do you find that your fans, when they come up and talk to you, talk more about The Patty Duke Show, or Miracle Worker, or your TV movies?

PD: Mostly Miracle Worker and Valley. And they almost always sing the theme to The Patty Duke Show. [Laughs.]

AVC: Hey, there are worse songs they could sing to you.

PD: That’s true.

AVC: By the way, were you aware that your name appears in a few hip-hop songs?

PD: I knew years ago that there was one, but I didn’t know that there was more than one. The one I believe was even called “Patty Duke.”

AVC: Yes, De La Soul has a song called “Patti Dooke.”

PD: Tickles the hell out of me. [Laughs.] As long as it’s not about by killing policemen and raping women.

AVC: No, it’s a song about refusing to compromise.

PD: Oh, is that right? I’ve got to Google that up.