By Annette Hinkle
The actress and Artistic Associate of Bay Street Theatre appears in “Caris’ Peace,” a documentary about her friend, Caris Corfman (pictured above, left, with Kate). In the early 1990s at the height of her acting career, Caris developed a brain tumor. After several operations, her short term memory was destroyed — as was her career. The film, by Gaylen Ross, will be screened Friday as part of the Hamptons International Film Festival.
How did you first come to meet Caris and what were your initial impressions of her?
I first met Caris at Yale School of Drama. She was a third year actress when I was a first year. Like any hierarchal school, she might as well have already been on Broadway. We idolized her. She was the leading lady of the class and did what she wanted. She was beautiful and talented. I really got to know her later when we were both working in New York.
In the documentary, photos and clips of Caris pre-tumor show a vibrant young woman who had a stellar career — appearing in leading roles on Broadway as well as on television and in films. How did the Caris you knew from those days differ from Caris after the tumor?
I spent some time with her just as she was realizing something was wrong. It was incredible. She was 36 years old when the tumor appeared, and to see someone who had been this extremely beautiful, sexy woman go from being absolutely stunning and within the course of a very short time – less than a few years — transform into a heavy middle aged woman was really unbelievable. It was a total transformation.
Her journey was so heroic — a combination of losing her memory but also seeing the girl she knew vanish when she looked in the mirror. With Caris, she was also dealing with huge medical issues. The medication had added so much weight to her. She was a dancer and had always had an extraordinary body.
One of the things that intrigued me about the movie is that so much of her personality was still very similar. She was funny, loving and really a good listener.
The film follows Caris as, 12 years later, she decides to get back on stage and tell her story, first at a theatre near her home in Maryland, and later at the Flea Theatre in New York. She reads from index cards on stage to keep her place. What do you think her determination in the face of such challenges says about the calling to be on stage?
I think for her it was the innate desire to connect. As E.M. Forster said, ‘Only connect.’ I think she would always connect. It’s startling when she goes into ‘The Seagull’ monologue in the film. She hadn’t forgotten it. For me, also one of the typical Caris moments is in New York when she leaves a note [at a theatre] for [former co-star] Tim Curry who’s performing in ‘Spamalot.’ I don’t know how well they knew each other, but it was typical Caris that she didn’t say anything except that ‘Hey, I was here – such happy memories’ and not ‘poor me.’
In the film, you see Caris open up and come to life as she gets closer to performing her one woman show. Do you think that, despite her health issues and time away from the stage, she was tapping into something deeper and innate?
There is something very primal that happens to me when I go on stage. It started becoming clear to me in my 30s and leading up to ‘Hedda Gabler.’ I can’t put it into words and that’s a good thing. As actors we rely on instinct. Something’s whizzing and it’s going great — and she had that experience over and over in life before the tumor.
With that discipline she had as a dancer, singer and actress, there was something in the recess of her brain. It think it’s clear when you see her journey in the movie.
In 2007, two years after she was on stage in New York, Caris died in her sleep after suffering a stroke. Did her death come as a surprise?
“I was so stunned. I think the stroke was one of those crazy, flukish, weird, awful things. It wasn’t like cancer – like you knew it was coming. I just presumed Caris’ life was completely altered, but she would live a long time. I was dumfounded.”
For a professional actor, the prospect of short term memory loss must be unthinkable and has to be the cruelest of ironies. Did Caris’ diagnosis and struggles make you reflect on your own career in the theater?
You can’t be an actor without your memory. When my beloved Lynn Redgrave had the experience with her illness during her one woman show a few years ago, she got to the point where she had to read her part.
Every actor has a different path and some are more ardent than others when it comes to learning lines. It’s not easy and when you get older, it’s even harder. When Caris said to me, and I talk about it in the movie, ‘I had trouble with my lines’, I remember thinking that it was so weird. I find that learning lines is like exercising a muscle. In the movie, by the time Caris is doing the New York performance, she is taking her eyes off the page. She is making the connection. Had she lived I think she could have gotten to the point where that muscle would’ve had some life.
In the end, what do you think Gaylen Ross’ film ultimately says about Caris and her legacy?
The thing I love about the movie is it’s not about a woman who died, but a woman who performed. I’m sure Caris would be very glad about that. She was not a sentimentalist. That’s what so beautiful about it.
