Susan Sarandon (left) and Geena Davis in 1991, Thelma and Louise, which would become a game-changing feminist film. Photo / Getty Images
Susan Sarandon (left) and Geena Davis in 1991, Thelma and Louise, which would become a game-changing feminist film. Photo / Getty Images
Two-time Academy winner Geena Davis reveals the struggles on her path to empowerment and Hollywood feminist powerhouse, in an edited extract from her memoir.
The roles of Thelma and Louise were already cast by the time I read it: Holly Hunter and Frances McDormand had been the T and Lchoice of Callie Khouri when she was going to direct her own script, and after she sold the rights to Ridley [Scott] and Mimi [Polk Gitlin] to produce to produce, Jodie Foster and Michelle Pfeiffer became the next pairing. The timing didn't work out on that one, as Jodie went off to do an obscure little thing called The Silence of the Lambs and Michelle shot Love Field. Goldie Hawn and Meryl Streep were also in talks to do Thelma & Louise, but Meryl thought one of the two main characters should survive, and that pairing also faced scheduling issues.
As for me, well, I had my agent call Ridley's office approximately 52 times (that is, every week, for a year), to remind him that I was available and interested. I knew an important script when I read one and wasn't above pressing my case tirelessly. During that year of weekly phone calls, I even met with my acting coach, Roy London, many times, to work on the script. In other words, I was preparing for a movie other actors had already been cast in — that's how insanely fixated I was on it. Roy convinced me that I was ready to go for the more jaded, more mature character, Louise. Surely, it was time for me to play a role like this; I was nearing my mid-30s.
When Ridley decided he would direct the movie himself, he knew all about my long-time obsession with the film because of the many phone calls and agreed to meet with me. So, in late 1989, I had tea with him at the Four Seasons in Los Angeles — and until the Darjeeling was cold and the tiny cucumber sandwiches had dried up, I laid out all my stored-up, passionate arguments for why I absolutely had to be in the movie, playing Louise. Ridley listened thoughtfully, then sat back in his chair.
Thelma and Louise stars Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon.
"So, in other words," he said, "you wouldn't play Thelma?" I had to think quick. Had I just argued myself out of this film by passionately advocating for the wrong role? The pause was only very brief before I said, "Well, what's so interesting is, while I've been talking, I've been listening to myself, and all the reasons why I should play Louise, and you know what, Ridley?"
Ridley looked at me, apparently not knowing what. "It just doesn't sound right," I said. Then I just made s*** up about why I absolutely had to be Thelma.
In the end, Ridley Scott cast me as neither Thelma nor Louise: I was loosely attached to the film for quite a while, but there came a time — while Ridley was on a long and exhaustive search for the perfect person to play the other role — when I received an offer to play the lead in a very funny Carl Reiner comedy, and my agent told Ridley that I would have to sign on to that movie unless Thelma & Louise was locked down by the end of one particular week. I was taking a HUGE risk making an ultimatum like that, but it had to be done, and just before 5pm that Friday, I inked a deal to play either Thelma or Louise. Ridley would choose which one depending on who the other actor was. I was beyond thrilled — and I was still pretty sure I could pull off the Louise or Thelma roles equally well ... that is, until Ridley cast Susan Sarandon as Louise.
Here's a multiple-choice quiz that perfectly describes who I was before I met Susan Sarandon: The male model with whom I'm doing a romance-themed photo shoot for Cosmopolitan magazine has terrible breath. Do I: A. Tell him, discreetly? B. Offer him a mint, pretending I'm just sharing? C. Ask someone else to give him a mint? Answer: Suffer silently through the entire four-hour shoot.
It's not overstating it to say that Susan has changed my life more than anyone I've ever known. The second I met her, I saw she was so obviously Louise — what had I been thinking? — and I was delighted to be Thelma.
Once Susan was cast, Ridley asked us to meet with him to go over the script and bring up any ideas we might have for tweaks. In preparation, I'd found a few bits of dialogue I wanted to adjust, then I sat down to plan out the girliest possible way — the least challenging, most inoffensive route — to present my trifling requests to Ridley Scott.
This had nothing to do with Ridley. I'd only met him once at the Four Seasons and I had no concept of what he would say or how he would react. No, this was all about my standard operating philosophy: the single point of life is to make sure no one has reason to find you troublesome.
Here are some of the techniques I planned to employ to bring up my ideas: Humour: If I present this one as a joke, maybe Ridley will think, "Ha, that's funny! But also, hmm ... Good point!" Transference: See if I can figure out a way to make Ridley think that he thought of this change himself. Defer: For this tweak, I'll wait until we're on set because no one in their right mind would bring up five things in one sitting.
This was where I was at as I was preparing for a role in what would come to be one of the greatest feminist films of the next 30 years.
This was not where Susan Sarandon was at.
Dying of Politeness, by Geena Davis
As we sat down to discuss the script that first day, I swear it was, like, on page one that Susan said, "So, my first line here, I think we should cut it. We don't need it ... or, I suppose we could put it on page two ..."
My jaw hit the floor. Susan went through each scene with confidence and ease. Ridley was completely unfazed, of course. Why I had assumed ahead of time that I'd need to whip out the girly tropes, I have no idea, but there it was. Ridley engaged with Susan on every point, and when she pitched a whole new scene she thought was necessary, Ridley agreed.
I knew in that meeting that I was now on another planet, a new, exciting, powerful planet, and Susan Sarandon was the Queen Alien. How had I never been exposed to a woman like this, a woman who very simply and clearly said what she thought? How could she possibly have sat there expressing opinions that didn't start with, "This is probably a stupid idea," or "I don't know what you'll think, but ..." I was so long conditioned to think it shameful to be seen and heard, to think it was impolite to sort of, well, exist.
Susan was a revelation. Somehow, I'd reached my mid-30s without being able to speak up for myself ... even when I was one of the leads in a movie — about strong women! Clearly something was up, and this was going to be a whole new experience for me.
