Post by Naj on Feb 15, 2005 17:47:42 GMT -5
Saving Case
By the one who's name we shall not say Kuhn
As Detective Lilly Rush on CBS's hit crime procedural Cold Case, Kathryn Morris often finds herself developing close, personal relationships with dead people. Lilly, the lone female detective on the Philadelphia homicide squad, investigates unsolved crimes from the past. As her character re-interrogates suspects and uncovers new evidence, Morris radiates strong, steely empathy for these forgotten murder victims.
The actor also makes sure that one key part of the show never devolves into maudlin hokum: We speak, of course, of the moment in nearly every episode when Lilly solves the murder of the week and the victim from long ago, seen throughout the episode in flashbacks, appears onscreen, watching her arrest the perp and put the case to bed. Another actor might have played these moments as cheesy, over-the-top melodrama, but Morris' flinty gaze and deep compassion always keep Lilly grounded in reality.
"I try not to play it as if she sees the person; it's almost like a feeling," says Morris. "Somehow, she gets a wave of satisfaction...like a little pat on the back from the universe that says, 'Yeah, you made a difference.'"
Lilly is also making a difference in the general television landscape: Leads in crime procedurals are usually played by men, but Morris is the front-and-center star of her show. "This is usually a part that the men would play," she says. "That added a whole other layer. It's not just solving cold cases but it's really also about this woman who has already had to navigate her way through the police department.... I felt like it was really the best of a male role and a female role. You didn't have to erase one, it was multidimensional, and it had a lot of possibilities for growing. When you do a series, you have to make sure you're not going to get bored. I don't think you're servicing a series if you are bored."
Morris wasn't looking to do a procedural-type television series at all. She and director Rod Lurie were developing a show for CBS based around her character from Lurie's film The Contender. The series never got off the ground, but CBS took notice of her. "When this show came up, we had developed such a rapport about that other show that they felt that character was kind of like a cousin to Lilly Rush," she says.
Morris still remembers the rush she got from reading the script for Cold Case. "My initial thought was, 'Whoever plays it, I hope they don't screw it up,'" she says. "If she plays it--whoever she may be--like, the old [smoky, femme fatale-type voice], 'I'm a tough-as-nails cop and, by the way, I'm blonde,' that would be so archaic and not empowered and just angry and embittered." Instead she eschews stereotypes, bringing a complex character to life in a way that is at once subtle and startling. Her career up until this point has been no different: Morris, it seems, thrives on defying people's expectations.
The actor grew up in "a family of performers" that moved around a lot. She was raised mostly in Texas and Connecticut and says she discovered plays through school. "The exploration of different types of people seemed to be a really fun playground for me, and something that I could do moderately well, and I felt that if I kept working hard and training that I could maybe do pretty well," she says. "I wasn't very good at sports or anything, and I was sort of a weirdo at school. We lived in a rich town, we were not rich, and I just think it was very healthy outlet for a kid that had a lot of emotional and offbeat energy. Acting's been a real savior for me as a vehicle of expression."
Her high school guidance counselors discouraged her from pursuing acting post-graduation, so Morris headed off to junior college, later transferring to Temple University in Philadelphia. Still, she couldn't stay away from acting: Morris took classes in Philly and was eventually taken on by an agent who suggested she move out to San Francisco. "She thought it would be a good place for me to grow," remembers Morris. "So I got on a Greyhound bus and moved out to San Francisco with no money, and I got a bunch of day jobs that didn't conflict with auditioning."
At 21, Morris moved to Los Angeles for pilot season and ended up staying there. She initially found the parts in Hollywood somewhat lacking: Her All-American ingenue look didn't always put her in line for the meaty, complicated roles she wanted to play. "When I first came to Hollywood, I started to see that some of the roles were kind of cookie-cutter and didn't really have any dimension, so I tried to cut my teeth on working on plays and in class and auditioning for things that were very difficult for me, that I would not necessarily be thought of by my little headshot," she says. "But then, as time went on, I got those parts. I got the more challenging parts."
Morris was drawn to parts that were more character actor than ingenue, even though she had to work five times as hard on the material to land those roles. "I spent less time on my headshots and more time on the material and really bugging my agents to send me up for something they didn't think I was right for," she says. "But you better be ready when you get them to send you in for that crazy obsessive-compulsive junkie [part]. You better make sure you can produce when you go in the room. If you want to say, 'I'm not just a cheerleader,' then you go in there and they say, 'You're too cheerleader-y,' that's not going to really encourage your agent to say, 'No, you don't understand! [She] can really play an obsessive-compulsive, she really can!' You better have the goods to back it up."
At this point, there can be no denying that Morris has the goods. She remains a firm believer in acting classes and has studied with famed teacher Larry Moss. The actor has played a diverse array of roles, ranging from a ferocious Joan of Arc–like character on Xena: Warrior Princess to Tom Cruise's conflicted wife in Minority Report. Throughout the course of her career, Morris has made lasting impressions on the people she's worked with--particularly directors Lurie and Steven Spielberg, who have cast her multiple times. "If you really elevate the material, if you really bring so much to the table when you come to work, you really come with your toolbox and you're serious and extremely professional, and you're there to help instead of sit in your trailer and have an ego.... I think that that kind of has fostered relationships in a very organic way, that I just happen to be someone that they like to have around," she says.
Morris likes to concentrate on what she can bring to a project: She understands what directors are trying to do with the whole movie, rather than just her part in it. When the actor was cut out of Spielberg's A.I., she took it in stride. "I worked on that for two weeks," she says. "I play a rock star; I sang the national anthem. I took dance lessons every day for two months. [Spielberg] told me, 'You've been cut out, I'm really sorry.' We were on the set of Minority Report when he told me, so it wasn't that tragic. I said, 'Well, the movie was about this little boy named David, it's not the story of Teenage Honey,' which was my character's name. I said, 'I really get the joy out of the doing of it, so it's okay. I had so much fun doing it.'"
Morris, it seems, hasn't let preconceived notions dictate her career. Like Lilly Rush, she believes in navigating life on her own terms. "I really have found that you have to figure out who you are and what you represent in the business and what kind of characters are really in your arsenal that are your strong points," she says. "If you sit around and let Hollywood tell you what you are, you'll never win the game. You need to find out who you are and then tell Hollywood who you are, meaning what you have to offer, what kind of actor you are, what kind of career do you want to have? It's your life."
Saving Case
By the one who's name we shall not say Kuhn
As Detective Lilly Rush on CBS's hit crime procedural Cold Case, Kathryn Morris often finds herself developing close, personal relationships with dead people. Lilly, the lone female detective on the Philadelphia homicide squad, investigates unsolved crimes from the past. As her character re-interrogates suspects and uncovers new evidence, Morris radiates strong, steely empathy for these forgotten murder victims.
The actor also makes sure that one key part of the show never devolves into maudlin hokum: We speak, of course, of the moment in nearly every episode when Lilly solves the murder of the week and the victim from long ago, seen throughout the episode in flashbacks, appears onscreen, watching her arrest the perp and put the case to bed. Another actor might have played these moments as cheesy, over-the-top melodrama, but Morris' flinty gaze and deep compassion always keep Lilly grounded in reality.
"I try not to play it as if she sees the person; it's almost like a feeling," says Morris. "Somehow, she gets a wave of satisfaction...like a little pat on the back from the universe that says, 'Yeah, you made a difference.'"
Lilly is also making a difference in the general television landscape: Leads in crime procedurals are usually played by men, but Morris is the front-and-center star of her show. "This is usually a part that the men would play," she says. "That added a whole other layer. It's not just solving cold cases but it's really also about this woman who has already had to navigate her way through the police department.... I felt like it was really the best of a male role and a female role. You didn't have to erase one, it was multidimensional, and it had a lot of possibilities for growing. When you do a series, you have to make sure you're not going to get bored. I don't think you're servicing a series if you are bored."
Morris wasn't looking to do a procedural-type television series at all. She and director Rod Lurie were developing a show for CBS based around her character from Lurie's film The Contender. The series never got off the ground, but CBS took notice of her. "When this show came up, we had developed such a rapport about that other show that they felt that character was kind of like a cousin to Lilly Rush," she says.
Morris still remembers the rush she got from reading the script for Cold Case. "My initial thought was, 'Whoever plays it, I hope they don't screw it up,'" she says. "If she plays it--whoever she may be--like, the old [smoky, femme fatale-type voice], 'I'm a tough-as-nails cop and, by the way, I'm blonde,' that would be so archaic and not empowered and just angry and embittered." Instead she eschews stereotypes, bringing a complex character to life in a way that is at once subtle and startling. Her career up until this point has been no different: Morris, it seems, thrives on defying people's expectations.
The actor grew up in "a family of performers" that moved around a lot. She was raised mostly in Texas and Connecticut and says she discovered plays through school. "The exploration of different types of people seemed to be a really fun playground for me, and something that I could do moderately well, and I felt that if I kept working hard and training that I could maybe do pretty well," she says. "I wasn't very good at sports or anything, and I was sort of a weirdo at school. We lived in a rich town, we were not rich, and I just think it was very healthy outlet for a kid that had a lot of emotional and offbeat energy. Acting's been a real savior for me as a vehicle of expression."
Her high school guidance counselors discouraged her from pursuing acting post-graduation, so Morris headed off to junior college, later transferring to Temple University in Philadelphia. Still, she couldn't stay away from acting: Morris took classes in Philly and was eventually taken on by an agent who suggested she move out to San Francisco. "She thought it would be a good place for me to grow," remembers Morris. "So I got on a Greyhound bus and moved out to San Francisco with no money, and I got a bunch of day jobs that didn't conflict with auditioning."
At 21, Morris moved to Los Angeles for pilot season and ended up staying there. She initially found the parts in Hollywood somewhat lacking: Her All-American ingenue look didn't always put her in line for the meaty, complicated roles she wanted to play. "When I first came to Hollywood, I started to see that some of the roles were kind of cookie-cutter and didn't really have any dimension, so I tried to cut my teeth on working on plays and in class and auditioning for things that were very difficult for me, that I would not necessarily be thought of by my little headshot," she says. "But then, as time went on, I got those parts. I got the more challenging parts."
Morris was drawn to parts that were more character actor than ingenue, even though she had to work five times as hard on the material to land those roles. "I spent less time on my headshots and more time on the material and really bugging my agents to send me up for something they didn't think I was right for," she says. "But you better be ready when you get them to send you in for that crazy obsessive-compulsive junkie [part]. You better make sure you can produce when you go in the room. If you want to say, 'I'm not just a cheerleader,' then you go in there and they say, 'You're too cheerleader-y,' that's not going to really encourage your agent to say, 'No, you don't understand! [She] can really play an obsessive-compulsive, she really can!' You better have the goods to back it up."
At this point, there can be no denying that Morris has the goods. She remains a firm believer in acting classes and has studied with famed teacher Larry Moss. The actor has played a diverse array of roles, ranging from a ferocious Joan of Arc–like character on Xena: Warrior Princess to Tom Cruise's conflicted wife in Minority Report. Throughout the course of her career, Morris has made lasting impressions on the people she's worked with--particularly directors Lurie and Steven Spielberg, who have cast her multiple times. "If you really elevate the material, if you really bring so much to the table when you come to work, you really come with your toolbox and you're serious and extremely professional, and you're there to help instead of sit in your trailer and have an ego.... I think that that kind of has fostered relationships in a very organic way, that I just happen to be someone that they like to have around," she says.
Morris likes to concentrate on what she can bring to a project: She understands what directors are trying to do with the whole movie, rather than just her part in it. When the actor was cut out of Spielberg's A.I., she took it in stride. "I worked on that for two weeks," she says. "I play a rock star; I sang the national anthem. I took dance lessons every day for two months. [Spielberg] told me, 'You've been cut out, I'm really sorry.' We were on the set of Minority Report when he told me, so it wasn't that tragic. I said, 'Well, the movie was about this little boy named David, it's not the story of Teenage Honey,' which was my character's name. I said, 'I really get the joy out of the doing of it, so it's okay. I had so much fun doing it.'"
Morris, it seems, hasn't let preconceived notions dictate her career. Like Lilly Rush, she believes in navigating life on her own terms. "I really have found that you have to figure out who you are and what you represent in the business and what kind of characters are really in your arsenal that are your strong points," she says. "If you sit around and let Hollywood tell you what you are, you'll never win the game. You need to find out who you are and then tell Hollywood who you are, meaning what you have to offer, what kind of actor you are, what kind of career do you want to have? It's your life."
Saving Case
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