Something about Olympia Dukakis just speaks to people. Now, for the first time, she speaks out–in her signature straight–talk style–about her own history and career.
Olympia Dukakis, internationally known movie and theater star, and cousin of presidential candidate Michael Dukakis, was born into a Greek family in Lowell, Massachusetts. As a first generation Greek–American, Olympia "lived in the hyphen" and struggled to reconcile her American desires with her family's old–world traditions. ASK ME AGAIN TOMORROW tells the story of Olympia's struggle to find her place as an American, as a woman and as a star. It specifically explores the relationship between Olympia, whose main ambition was to live her life exactly as she wanted, and her mother, who spent a lifetime constrained by a tradition that delegated her to second class. Like Sidney Poitier's THIS LIFE and THE MEASURE OF A MAN, this is a book that is more than a celebrity memoir. ASK ME AGAIN TOMORROW will speak to many audiences: readers who also experienced America as an adopted country; readers interested in the art of acting; readers interested in autobiography, and particularly to female readers who have struggled with fitting their own aspirations in with the needs of family. It is a book that will endure.
The spotlight that shined on my family in 1988 started on what was a typical February morning -- typical except for the TV crew sitting in my living room.
A couple of days before, I'd gotten a call at the theater where I worked. It was Entertainment Tonight (ET) and they wanted to know if they could come film "my reaction" when the Oscar nominations were announced. There was some talk that I might be nominated for my part in Moonstruck, but I thought wanting to film me on the off chance I might be nominated was an odd request, and I laughed when I told Bonnie Low-Kramen about it. She was the head of publicity for the Whole Theatre in northern New Jersey, a nonprofit organization I'd been very involved with for the last eighteen years. Ten couples -- including my brother, Apollo, and his wife, Maggie, and my husband, Louie, and me -- had been founding members of the company and Bonnie had, by then, been working with us for a number of years. She thought the ET idea was great. "Just think," she said. "You can plug the theater on national television. It will be great publicity for us." As a not-for-profit organization, we were always scrambling for money, so any publicity was truly helpful. I asked her, when she set it up, to have ET come to the theater so that we'd have the opportunity to get a good shot of the exterior of the building and our sign. However, they didn't want to interview me at the theater. They wanted to tape this at my home, at eight a.m. sharp, just as the nominations were broadcast live from Los Angeles at five a.m. I was disappointed by this but determined to figure out some way to promote the theater anyway.
On the morning the nominations were to be announced, I was up early, doing routine paperwork for the company and taking care of things around the house. I had already helped my mother, who was living with us by then, get dressed and have some breakfast.
I also let our dog, Sandal, out the back door for his morning dash over to our neighbor's yard, which, for some reason, he'd recently decided was the only place he could relieve himself. This was probably the greatest stress in my life at that moment, as our neighbor, who was always having his breakfast at the picture window that spanned his kitchen at the exact moment Sandal needed to go out, was threatening to sue us. Things had gotten pretty ugly between us, but I couldn't worry about that today. I had to get Sandal back into the house and see if Louie needed help with the coffee and bagels; we had a crowd to feed. Some of our friends and neighbors began showing up, as well as some of our colleagues from the Whole Theatre. I remember being vaguely annoyed as the techs from ET began dragging cameras and lights into the house -- I didn't want them to scratch the floor or bang the furniture. I started to feel that the whole thing was a ridiculous mistake and neither Louie nor I had time to play host to a bunch of strangers with heavy equipment.
But apparently, ET knew something we did not because sometime between eight-thirty and nine, there was my face, on the television, and I'm looking around my living room watching my family, friends, neighbors, and this film crew jump up and down. I was nominated! For Best Supporting Actress for my portrayal of Rose Castorini in Moonstruck. Louie was cheering and my mother, who still couldn't believe that I was actually paid to act, was beaming. Everyone was just so high. I think I must have been, too. I don't really remember.
What I do remember is that the phone started ringing off the hook after that. People wanted to interview me and, in particular, find out how it felt to be an overnight success. An overnight success? Either the media really...
Reviews
Publishers Weekly...
“A fine portrait of a hardworking, dedicated, proud, and inspiring woman, by turns affecting and laugh-out-loud funny.”
About the Author
Olympia Dukakis has worked for more than forty years as an actress, director, producer, teacher, and activist. She received an Academy Award® for Best Supporting Actress, the New York Film Critics Award, the Los Angeles Film Critics Award, and the Golden Globe Award for her work in the film Moonstruck. She has also won two OBIE Awards and a cable ACE Award. She lectures on women's issues, on living with osteoporosis and other health issues, and on balancing career and family. She lives in New York City with her husband, actor Louis Zorich. They have three children, Christina, Peter, and Stefan, and two granddaughters, Isabella and Sofia.