全文 Over the past two years, 27-year-old Rooney Mara has emerged as one of the most talked about and talented—if intriguingly complicated and enigmatic—young actresses of her generation. In fact, Mara’s ability to convey a range of often competiting emotions without going over the top—used to such great effect in her Oscar-nominated performance as the deteremined-but-damaged hacker Lisbeth Salander in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo—is party of what makes her so irresistibly watchable. But what’s she really like? On the eve of his retirment from feature-filmmaking, Steven Soderbergh, who directed Mara in the new psychological thriller Side Effects, graciously agreed to illuminate for us the completely unadlterated, absolutely unembellished, thoroughly unvarnished truth. Here, we present a Mara in full. [Editor’s note: This interview was conducted via e-mail, and contains coarse language, discussions of nudity, and exorbitant amounts of biting sarcasm. Reader discretion is advised.] STEVEN SODERBERGH: Did you think you were Little Miss Hot Shit in college, or did that come later? ROONEY MARA: When I was at college, my nickname was Keds, because I wore Keds. I guess it wasn’t really a nickname, because nicknames are usually given to you by people who are your friends and who know you. But I didn’t know the people who called me Keds. I think that they didn’t like me because I didn’t want to join a sorority. I left that school. SODERBERGH: Sounds like you would have been asked to leave if you hadn’t left on your own, especially since you think that all sororities should be abolished. Your background is boring me, so let’s get to the movie stuff. When you were working with [David] Fincher on The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo [2011], why did he have to do so many takes of all your scenes? MARA: Har, har . . . Because I am such a pleasure to be around, Fincher would prolong my scenes so that I would be on set all of the time. And maybe because I am stubborn, I thought that I could out-stubborn him. But you can’t out-stubborn a Finch. He was always right, though. Not everyone can make films with “less than one take,” like you. SODERBERGH: So do you really have any tattoos? Or was that acting? MARA: I don’t have any. That was acting. SODERBERGH: And are you an expert hacker? Or was that acting, too? MARA: That was also acting. Unfortunately. SODERBERGH: So why didn’t you win the Oscar? MARA: Lots of reasons . . . I know how much you love your Oscar. My dog’s name is Oskar. SODERBERGH: As an Oscar-winner, I find that incredibly insulting. By the way, do you know that your dog hates the way you smell? MARA: He’s sleeping next to me right this very moment. He loves everything about me, bless his little heart. SODERBERGH: In our movie, Side Effects, you were asked to play a woman who is struggling with clinical depression—amongst other things. I must note for the record that, as your director, I did not see you do any preparation for this role. Do you wing it all the time, or were you just trying to fuck up this movie specifically? I
SODERBERGH: I’ve noticed. Everyone on the crew called you “Looney Mara.” Do you think that’s funny? MARA: Umm . . . SODERBERGH: Actually, some of the crew called you “Jumper Cable,” because you had no energy. Do you think that’s funnier? MARA: Well, I think it’s more relevant, as I was playing someone with clinical depression. A lack of energy was sort of part of the no-preparation that I did. SODERBERGH: That reminds me—why are you constantly sick? MARA: Because of too many Z-Paks growing up. SODERBERGH: Oh, this is interesting. So you were sexually promiscuous . . . MARA: No, I was pretty prude. SODERBERGH: Oh . . . Not so interesting. So why don’t you eat normal food? MARA: By “normal,” do you mean food that has been genetically modified? I try to eat food that hasn’t been washed in ammonia and then packaged in the shape of breaded dinosaurs filled with cheese—even though those are very tasty. I like to eat food that can actually make it through the 20-plus feet of my small intestine. SODERBERGH: So you’re not vegan because of the senseless, pointless, morally repugnant, environmentally catastrophic practice of animal farming, but because of your little intestine? MARA: All of those reasons play a role. SODERBERGH: If you were alone on a desert island and could only have one piece of music to listen to, don’t you think everyone would be really happy? MARA: Clearly, you would be really happy. I would be happy for a while, too, depending on what music it was. SODERBERGH: Let’s talk politics: Why did you wear your sister’s training bra? She’s still trying to get over that. MARA: She told you that? That’s embarrassing. She was really upset when my mom brought her home a training bra. She didn’t want it, so I moseyed on over and picked it up. I was very eager to get boobs. It wasn’t until years later that the training bra would actually fit. I’ve regretted it ever since. SODERBERGH: Do you still have it? MARA: No. Of course not. SODERBERGH: Pretty sure they had eBay back then. Should’ve kept it. I’ve never seen you read. Do you know how? MARA: Yes, sir, I do know how. I love to read. I’m still pen pals with my ninth-grade English teacher, Mr. Shanley. He tells me what books to read. SODERBERGH: I think we need a new word for “pen pal.” But back to me: I stopped reading my reviews after Traffic [2000]. Do you care about reviews? MARA: Do I care about reviews? Yes and no. I tend to not put too much credence in what other people think, but then, of course, you are curious as to what other people think and you want people to respect you. So, I don’t know. At the end of the day, I am so much more critical of myself than anyone else could be, and I know when something I’ve done is really bad or kind of good. I guess sometimes you read a review to see if anyone else picked up on something bad that you already picked up on yourself. So, generally, if I do read them, I do it when I am feeling really bad about myself, and I find the meanest things that people have said so I can validate my own feelings. I don’t read them to fluff myself up. In fact, rarely do you believe it when someone says something nice. I
SODERBERGH: One of the reasons I’m so creative is that my parents got divorced. What’s it like growing up in a stable household? MARA: Really? Do you want to elaborate on that? Do you think your creativity is directly related to your parents’ divorce? And why would that be? I think that I have a pretty vivid imagination despite my stable household. Everyone’s family has their quirks. No one is perfect. SODERBERGH: Well, for me it was a great lesson in subtext. But since you’re always playing the surface of things, I guess it wouldn’t have helped you. MARA: I was actually fired once for having too much inner life. SODERBERGH: That sounds unlikely. I don’t know if I told you this, but I like to work fast because I’m convinced that I could die at any moment and I’m worried that someone else will have to finish my movie. Do you worry about dying? MARA: Who do you think they would hire to finish your movie? Is there anyone you would trust to finish it? Sometimes I think about that—like, “Okay, if I died right now, would they have to reshoot the whole film? Or would they be able to edit around it.” Then I think through the scenes that are left toshoot, and weigh if they would be able to finish it or not. SODERBERGH: They could always get your sister to jump in and finish it. But let’s talk about god for a moment. Do you feel guilty about all of the terrible things you’ve done in your life? Actually, let me rephrase that: Do you think that we are all being watched, and when we die, we will get a report card? MARA: A report card? I can’t even remember what a report card looks like. Is that strange? I literally can’t picture it. But no, I don’t think we get a report card. I do think, though, that the way we live our lives and treat each other matters. I’m quite often paranoid that I am being watched. SODERBERGH: Well, duh—you are! Talk about what scares you. Be specific. MARA: Diseases, like the one in Contagion [2011]. Black mambas. Heights. The ocean. Outer space. Humans.
SODERBERGH: Anyone specifically besides me? MARA: Stop projecting. You don’t scare me. SODERBERGH: You seem very content with your feet. Why is that? MARA: Wow . . . I need to remember to keep that one closer to the chest next time. I don’t know. They are just pretty great feet. They get me to where I need to be—usually on time. They don’t smell. They are a nice size. Long toes . . . SODERBERGH: I don’t like seeing men’s feet. It’s too intimate. Don’t you think flip-flops and sandals on men should be outlawed? MARA: No. I like flip-flops on men. I am not grossed out by feet. I’ve never seen your feet, though, so that could change. SODERBERGH: I don’t have feet; I have another set of hands. Have you ever asked anyone out? MARA: I don’t think so . . . SODERBERGH: Interesting. What’s your favorite swear word and why? MARA: When I was growing up, I wasn’t allowed to say “fart.” Fart was a swear word. We had to say “honk” instead—“He honked!” A penis was a “winky.” But these days, I like words with a little more punch. SODERBERGH: Like doodie? MARA: Like cunt. SODERBERGH: Whoa . . . Okay. Would you lie to help your best friend? MARA: Help them with what? How serious is the situation? Probably. I need more information than that to make a decision. But, as I’ve told you before, I am a terrible liar. SODERBERGH: I just turned 50, which seemed old to me when I was your age. Does that seem old to you now? MARA: No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are only a few years younger than my parents, so technically you could be my dad. But a lot—probably most—of my friends are over the age of 35. And you are super-immature, so you seem a lot younger than your age. SODERBERGH: Thank you. I happen to think the most valuable natural resource on this planet is Velcro, but I hear you’re into some shit with what, water? Schools? MARA: I’m involved with a charity in Kibera, Kenya, called Uweza. I started a charity a few years ago, and then joined up with Uweza because we had a lot of the same goals and we had been helping each other out for years. We don’t do anything with water, but I did just get back from a trip with Oxfam America, and they are doing some pretty incredible work with water. I will recommend something with Velcro to them, though. SODERBERGH: Did your parents make you get involved with that stuff? MARA: No, my parents begged me not to go. But they are extremely supportive now. SODERBERGH: I cried when Magic Mike wasn’t nominated for a People’s Choice Award. When was the last time you cried? MARA: You’re a liar. SODERBERGH: You weren’t there, so you don’t know for sure. The hardest I’ve ever laughed, though, was when I watched Valley of the Dolls [1967] one Thanksgiving on mushrooms. What’s the hardest that you’ve ever laughed? MARA: It’s too inappropriate to tell you about in this interview, but it involves latex. SODERBERGH: Latex is always funny. I refuse to let my wife wear green. What color will you not wear? MARA: I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Jules [Asner, Soderbergh’s wife] wear green. But I try not to wear color. Ever. I