PRESS ARCHIVE
Elle - August 2002
What Calista did next.

The show that made her a star is no more. So what will America's primetime heroine
do now? Enjoy a holiday, raise her little boy and get hot and heavy with Harrison
Ford.
A New York photographic studio. Calista Flockhart is sitting sexily
astride a slender chair, wearing a super-skimpy, sparkling Armani mini dress. She's
beautifully tanned (and everyone there clocks she has the most sensational legs).
Fact is, Ms Flockhart is looking pretty damn hot these days. Suddenly, a motorbike
roars up outside. Enter a tall, imposing guy in beaten-up leathers and shades with
a crash helmet tucked under his arm. The mystery biker strolls across the studio floor.
A courier perhaps? Hm...not quite.
'Hi, I'm Harrison,' he says , in a soft, unassuming
voice, removing his shades. And, yes. Absolutely. That would be Harrison as in Ford. 'I've
come to see Calista.' The entire ELLE team tries to act cool, like nobody has noticed the
Hollywood A-lister headcount has just doubled.

'Wow! Great dress!' he says, peeping round the set and hovering a while to look at the
Polaroid's. The two of them quietly discuss dinner plans. Everyone tries not to stare.
'Can you take a look at that white dress hanging up?' she asks him, in a voice lower and
more sultry than it ever sounded when she played mixed-up Ally McBeal. 'Sure,' he replies.
The frock gets the Ford approval.
He doesn't linger long. Keeps it low key... in a
low-key Harrison Ford kind of way. Then, shades on, helmet at the ready, he leaves, and
not another word bout him is uttered or muttered. The shooting continues. Pose, flash.
Pose, flash. But a frisson of energy still oscillates the atmosphere. And everyone's happy.
In a low-key (but, secretly-highly-excited-I've-just-met-Harrison-Ford) kind of way.
Suddenly,
it's time for a change of mood. Calista slips into a simple white Hanro vest and white Helmut Lang
jeans for a laid-back vibe. And she smiles, despite the fact that she loathes every single minute
of being prepped and preened. ('If there's one thing I hate, it's having my hair and make-up done.
Hate it.') Nor is she what she calls 'a clothesy girl'- although she admits to a weakness for Missoni
and Alberta Ferretti. 'So what do you have your eye on next season?' I ask. 'Not much,' she replies.
'Rememeber, I'm out of a job now!'

And, of course, technically, she is. She's out of Ally McBeal. After five years, Fox Television
pulled the plug on the Emmy award-winning show in April, after viewing figures took a fatal tumble.
She tells me the last-ever episode airs in the States in three days' time (the last series is running
in the UK on Channel 4). So no more Dancing Baby. No more neurotic chit-chat in the unisex loos. No
more teasing yet tortured flirtations with Robert Downey Jr or new love Jon Bon Jovi. No more Ally.

'We had a big lunch the day we finished shooting. People cried. It was surreal. It felt like the end
of something huge. The end of an era. I think everyone will go through a period of adjustment because,
until now, we knew where we were going everyday, what we were doing and what was expected of us. But
it was definitely the right time to stop.'

Which is why it's the right time for Calista, now 37, to start afresh. Scripts are coming in thick
and fast. She can um and ah about movie or theatre. She has time to spend with her cherubic, cherished
son, Liam, who she adopted 18 months ago. And she certainly seems to have Harrison.
I meet Calista
the next day at her hotel, the Lowell. As I wait for her in the dining room (which looks like something
out of the Palace of Versailles), all I can hear is the sound of guests folding The New York Times.
It's scarily quiet- and then it's suddenly it's scarily noisy. From around the corner, a child's ear-bashing
screams fill the room, and in walks Calista- jeans, white tee, trainers, v trendy glasses and Liam on hip.
She introduces me to her son, who instantly turns his head, picks up a spoon, and starts banging it on the
table. 'I'm waiting for the nanny to come down,' she whispers. 'Then we can go to a diner.' Phew.
As we
stroll to the lift, the switch of Liam from mummy to nanny does not go well. There are tears. There are
tantrums. So Calista has to hold him until the life comes, the perform a well rehearsed manoeuvre involving
distraction, a quick babe-passing action and an athletic leap into the lift.

As the doors close, the screeches build and she leans against the wall, head in hands, caramel hair flopping
over her face. 'God, I hate doing that,' she says, looking up. 'Do you have children?' 'No, never met the
right man,' I reply, suddenly realising what I've just said. After all, she adopted Liam as a single woman.
So, I add, 'Well I guess I could take your option.' She laughs. 'It's a good option.'
The diner couldn't
be more different from Hotel Uptight. It's a plate-clattering, Italian-chattering eaterie, and Calista
immediately orders breakfast. I hesitate to reveal details because there's so much more to Calista than her
eating habbits. But I will, for the irony. While she scoffs a feta cheese omelette, I pick at a fruit salad.
She clears her plate. I barely touch mine. Enough already.

As we get started, I slide my tape recorder towards her, scared the symphony of crockery will drown out her
voice. 'Oh, I do hope you will be able to hear me,' she says, actively trying to speak nearer the microphone.
'And I'm so sorry the table is so small'. If there's one thing you notice about Calista first off, it's that
she's very, very polite.

'So, Ally is over,' I say, studying those soulful, saucer eyes and that oh-so familiar heart-shaped face
(which, for the record, is fantastically unlined for a 37 year old). 'I feel fortunate to have been part of
something so provocative and unique,' is her eulogy for the show. 'At the end of filming, everyone said
there'll never be anything like Ally McBeal again. We had guests like Elton John and Sting on the show, and
they'd give us private concerts. How lucky and amazing was that? It was just the best.'

I remind her of when she made the cover of Time magazine. The strapline read, 'Is feminism dead>',
reflecting the cultural debate fizzing in Diet Coke breaks everywhere. The question: why was a successful
Boston lawyer so obsessed with husband-hunting? 'Yeah, but it wasn't me on the cover, it was my character.'

'Sure. But at the time, people were having trouble distinguishing Flockhart from fantasy,' I say.
'Absolutely,
and I think some will always see me as Ally. Strangers come up and say, "Hi, Ally", and I smile and say "Hi",
back. It doesn't worry me.' She grins with barely a hint of a shoulder shrug (that politeness again).
'So
who will you keep in contact with from the show?'
'My hair and make-up people, and all the actors. Portia [de Rossi], Jane [Krakowski] and Greg [Germann],
definitely, and Peter [MacNicol]. When you work 12 to 14 hour days with people, you develop a strong bond.
And, of course, I keep in touch with Robert [Downey Jr]. It was really special working with him, we had a
great time. He's beautiful and very special...' The sentence trails off.
In fact, it was Downey Jr's
exit that sent the ratings into a tailspin. The audience had been hooked by the tantalising on-screen chemistry
between him and Ally. But when the actors all-too-real drug problems continued to dog him, he had no choice but
to take an early bow. Story-wise, Ally's promising romance turned into the usual fallen souffle. Hence the
enlisting of guests such as Sir Elton John, the casting of Jon Bon Jovi as a new love interest and a two-hour
special featuring Matthew Perry and Christina Ricci, all in an attempt to breathe new life into the ailing
show. But nothing could resuscitate Ally. She was wheeled from the ER, pronounced dead. 'So what now?' I
ask. But at that moment- and not for the last time- we're interrupted by someone coming up to tell Calista
how much they loved her performances. One even gives her a business card- quite why, I can't fathom. Calista
smiles and says 'Thank you' graciously. The only sign of her discomfort is the way she slides the charms on
her necklace backwards and forwards while her fan is in mid-gush.
'Where were we? Oh, yes. What now?' I
have to regroup. I'm determined to take a vacation somewhere hot, get some sleep, and have some fun. I want
to spend time with Liam and just be a mom- hang out at home, in the park and at the beach. I also want to
clean out my basement and dressing room- I want to get rid of clutter because it makes you feel lighter.
Then I'll start focusing on new projects.'

On that score, both film and theatre work are calling Calista. 'I want to do some more in theatre. There's
so many things I love about it. It's very "in the moment", and the audience gets so caught up in the
experience'.
In fact, before Ally McBeal, Calista was already a critically acclaimed Broadway actress,
playing Laura in Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie and Natasha in Chekhov's The Three
Sisters. And although she doesn't have yards of film credits on her CV-yet- her movie work has been
well received, most notably her Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream, in which she starred with
Michelle Pfeiffer, and the lesbian psychic she played in Things You Can Tell Just By Looking At Her.
I mention that Michael Hoffman, the director of A Midsummer Night;s Dream, said she'd make a great villain.

'That's nice, I'd love the opportunity,' she replies, eyes lighting up with a flash of feigned (but convincing)
malevolence. 'I'm reading a lot of scripts and I'm waiting to see something I feel passionate about. I'm hoping
it falls into place. I think it will- life is usually like that. It all figures itself out if you live for today.'

And she seems to have a lot to live for right now. Like Liam. And like-ahem-Harrison. As soon as I mention the 'H'
word, she clams. 'I don't mean to be rude,' she says, looking at her plate and blushing, 'but I like to keep my
private life as private as I can. But what I will say I'm very happy and excited right now.' She looks up, semi-smug,
semi-embarrased.
I adopt a puppy-dog pleading look 'Is it true you met when you spilt red wine on his Golden Globes
Life Achievement award in January?'
'That's not true. Well, it's half true, but I don't want to talk about it.
Sorry' She squirms in her seat, the necklace charms go back and forth, so I let up. 'I guess you've had enough of
rumours,' I say. 'Recently, there were pictures in the British press of you, Harrison and Liam in the park. The
talk was all about an engagement.'
'I'm shocked by that one,' she admits ('shocked' because, after years of
practice, Calista can sense a prying paparazzi lens at 200 paces). It's an invasion of privacy and I think it
should be against the law to take pictures of children. OK, take pictures of me, I'm on TV- or I used to be
(she giggles). But don't exploit my child.'
'And often the press gets it wrong,' I say. 'You've been linked
with a succession of men, most of who you denied having a relationship with.' In my mind, I click through a list
of names. Ben Stiller, Garry Shandling, Robert Downey Jr himself.... 'None of them were true. Well,most weren't
true. Remind me of one,' she asks.
'Sam Mendes,'
'Ah, right,' and she looks back at her plate, laughs and
blushes. Enough said.
I tell her I've just read her ELLE horoscope (Scorpio). Amused, she wants to hear it.
'It says you're comfortable with change at the moment, so that's spot on; and relationships are now more important
to you.'
'That's not true. They've always been important to me.'
I laugh out loud at how loaded the next line
is. 'There's a relationship that's become really important. You're evaluating what it has to offer long term.' We both shriek.

'Liam!' she interjects. 'It must be Liam!'

'Yeah,' I say. 'Let's leave it at Liam'.
And on the subject of Liam, I ask what it's like for her as a single
mother. She assesses my question for an agonisingly long time. 'That's a really BIG question,' she says, and
another pause ensues. Her answer, when it comes, is both considered and meaningful. 'Being a new mum, whether
you're single or not, is very challenging- a huge responsibility and a great responsibility. The rewards are
endless. Liam is a fascinating and hilarious bundle of joy. And yet there are moments when you have to make
serious decisions. And moments when you're forced to prioritise, which actually is wonderful, because the
attention is on the child and not oneself. Things that may have seemed important, well, they just don't matter.
Which is (another pause) a relief. I feel content and complete now.'
Her phone, which she's only acquired
since she's had Liam, rings. She (politely) asks if we're nearly done as she's taking Liam to see the farmyard
animals at the zoo. As we wait for the bill, I ask her if she liked the music in
Ally. 'Oh, yes. The songs
told the story. They were part of the emotional impact.'
'I loved a song called
Maryland,' I confess,
and reel off the lyrics. It registers.
'I love that song, too- it's beautiful.' She starts singing it. Me and
Calista, humming a tune in a diner...
'I've been thinking
I've been thinking too much
I just want to
live now for a little while
And cast my dreams to the wind.'
And for a surreal minute, I feel I'm with
Ally, sharing one of those musical interludes. But the words- well they seem to suit Calista's life just that little bit more right now.
Date of this item added :
2007-09-02