Teri Garr

"Vould you like to have a roll in ze hay?” chants Inga, played by actress Teri Garr, in Mel Brooks’ classic Young Frankenstein. I feel compelled to reenact that hilarious scene as my beau, Rudolph, and I stroll out of the old Nuart Theatre in West L.A. after a midnight showing. I carry on: “It’s fun. Roll, roll, roll in ze hay.” Hum, diggity doggie, I’ve got to call on this gifted artist tomorrow morning.

Teri Garr’s memorable roles in such films as Tootsie (Academy Award nom), Oh, God!, Close Encounters, and The Black Stallion are woven into our pop culture. On the small screen she has been in a zillion shows from Maude and Star Trek to Friends and ER. Look for Teri’s new films being released this year: Unaccompanied Minors and Expired. Interestingly, her career began as a dancer in Elvis movies and on The Sonny and Cher Show. It must be genetic—her mom was one of the original Rockettes.

In October 2002, Teri publicly announced that she had multiple sclerosis, and she’s presently active in several MS organizations. Her book, Speedbumps: Flooring It Through Hollywood, was recently published. Through the years, Teri has lent her support to the AIDS community by working with such organizations as Aid For AIDS, APLA, and Project Angel Food. She is currently excited about performing at a gala benefit tribute to the late Spalding Gray from June 14–18 at Freud Playhouse on the UCLA campus.

I call Teri at home but she can’t talk because her ceiling is leaking. Finally, we connect the next day at her Brentwood home (“in the murderhood,” as she calls it, “so named because of O.J.”). The plumber preceded me by five minutes. He’s upstairs, banging.

Ruby Comer: It took a whole day for the plumber to get here?
Teri Garr: Oh, Ruby, it has been an endless nightmare. Don’t ask.

Two nights ago, girl, you had me in belly laughs watching Young Frankenstein. (I unsuccessfully imitate her character:) “He vould have an enormous schwanzstucker.”
Oh, I saw it not too long ago at a small theater myself. It was so much fun being on the set. We laughed the whole time, though, sometimes, Mel would have to cut and say, “No more laughing!” It was like when the teacher says [to] stop laughing, then of course, you can’t. And some of Gene Wilder’s laughs Mel kept in the film. It was my first big movie and I thought all sets would be like this. [She then adds with an aside whisper:] They weren’t.

There must have been many ad libs, huh?
Very few. Mel was a huge control freak. He wanted everything the way he wanted it [she says in a fun, sassy tone]. It is a very funny movie.

’Tis. ’Tis. Healthwise, my dear, how are you doing?
Well, I guess I’m hangin’ in there [she says jovially with a mock Southern accent]. I say that I have a “tiny touch” of MS. I’m taking medicine to slow the progression, also exercising. [She briefly looks up at the ceiling, slightly worried.] Speaking around the country about it really is therapeutic for me.

Ah, I imagine so.
MS affects everyone in different ways, just like with HIV. Some people have MS all their lives and you would never know. That’s why it’s scary to reveal that you have it because people think that you will be drooling in a wheelchair. No! So it’s best not to tell. I stepped up because I’m functioning the best I can, but [as soon as I did], I felt I was dropped like a hot potato from my agencies.

Yowza! Oh, how dreadful, Teri. I know you’ve lost tons of friends to AIDS, and have been pitching in at events…[she interjects].
Oh, I have to tell you. One time, in fact twice, I was on Jeopardy! playing for an AIDS organization. I won both times! I continue to help out in any way I can, Ruby.

Bless you, sugar. I mean it. Teri, you know what it’s like to be handed a serious diagnosis. Any advice to others in the same predicament?
Live each day [she quietly replies]. So many of us try to rush, to achieve, to get ahead. There’s something to be said about being stopped in your tracks. It’s almost a blessing, because you get to see stuff that was going past in a blur. You begin to appreciate the little things, like eating rice pudding, which I really love. [The plumber appears, asks her a quick question, then exits.] With HIV, I understand that if you take care of yourself you can certainly prolong your life, so learning to appreciate that is a great feeling. You’ve got to be proactive. I mean, just by my taking this interferon—I don’t know if it’s helping or not—but the act of doing it, psychologically, puts me six steps ahead. I believe in that mind-body connection. Ya know, I’ve learned things from getting a diagnosis that I never thought possible, about people, the world, and life. It’s pretty amazing. I try to look at the bright side of the coin.

But, girl, you’ve always lived your life as an optimist.
Either an optimist or a fool!

[Laughing, then turning serious] Hey, any side effects with the drug?
Weight gain, damn it. I used to have the most fabulous figure. No, I didn’t [she joshes in a little girl voice].

Teri Garr, you always did have an hourglass figure!
And now I’ve got this damn layer of fat. Then every once in a while I’m treated with steroids. Ya know, my vanity kicks in here. I’d rather be thin and not walking than fat! [She laughs.] It’s so petty in the big scheme of things, but this layer of fat doesn’t make me happy.

Speaking of “the big scheme of things,” what was George Burns like to work with on Oh, God!?
He was wonderful. [In her Burns voice, she repeats what he said on the set] “Ya guys gonna rehearse or am I gonna go play cards? I gotta go, gotta go.” He played at the Hillcrest [Country Club]. Immediately, I said, I like this no-nonsense guy.

And what about this guy, Elvis? Did ya “spin the record” with Elvis? C’mon now, the truth, Missy.
No, no. [She quashes my fantasy!] And most people don’t know this, Ruby, but he was really funny.

Since he didn’t play your heart, how was Francis Ford Coppola on the set of One From The Heart?
He was like Ethel Merman in Gypsy. [In her Merman burr] “C’mon kids, we’re gonna make costumes outta those drapes!” [She concentrates.] He taught me how to be creative.

Oh, that’s valuable. How neat. Now tell me about Sonny and Cher and what is was like working on their TV show.
I loved working on their show! It was great fun even though it was one step above being a cocktail waitress. Sonny and Cher themselves were great people—smart, intelligent, talented, and funny. I was really lucky to work on that show because it held me over until I got my foot in the door. Which I'm still jamming in there.

If ya ask me, I think you’ve quite a foothold, girl. Give me a morsel of gossip from the set of Michael and Tootsie.
Well, John Travolta gave me a full body massage [coyly stated]. He was good [at it], too. And with Tootsie, what comes to mind is the funny Dustin Hoffman and the insufferable Jessica Lange. No, I’m kidding, she’s fine.

You’ve provided us with such exceptional performances across a vast amount of work. [She smiles and nods graciously.] And now you’re honoring Spalding Gray in a tribute along with Margaret Cho [A&U, September 2000], Gina Gershon, Debra Winger, David Strathairn and others at UCLA. [A portion of the proceeds goes to the Spalding Gray Award for new performance writing.]
Yes, and I once saw him [in performance] at UCLA! I’m a huge fan of his, and I knew him a little bit, too. He was hilarious, off the wall, and just a great guy.

Molly, Teri’s twelve-year-old daughter, enters quickly to say that the plumber is finished, and she tears off back upstairs.

Hey Teri, how will you handle AIDS prevention with Molly?
The kids are all aware of HIV now, which is good...

Yes, more specifically here in California, though. Our golden state is always usually one-step ahead of everyone else.
With Molly, I will let it unfold naturally. When she’s ready, she’ll ask questions and I’ll be straightforward. She does get a lot of information at school. They keep them well-informed. [As Teri walks out of the room, she has one more thought. Her voice increases with volume the farther she steps away.] I think when they find a cure for AIDS they will also discover cures for MS, cancer, and other tragic diseases. I hope it’s soon.

Ruby Comer is an independent journalist from the Midwest who is happy to call Hollywood her home away from home. Reach her by e-mail at MsRubyComer@aol.com.

June 2006