Cloris Leachman looks back on
a life well-lived
BY STEVE FRIESS
I’m about an hour into my 15-minute phone interview with actress Cloris Leachman, and I am finally starting to run out of things to ask her. I’m so treasuring the conversation, however, that I’m not ready for it to be over.
To my surprise, I suddenly realize, neither is she. The list of topics we’ve mulled has become epic: Her ex-husband’s affair in the 1970s with Joan Collins, then a star-fucking actress whom Leachman’s circle of Hollywood friends referred to as “the British Open”; whether Marlon Brando ever had gay sex, which she says is possible because Elia Kazan, their Actor’s Studio instructor, “wanted us to experience absolutely everything”; why she wasn’t scared that time, as a young Broadway actress, when a guy pinned her to a pillar in a New York hotel lobby and humped her until he ejaculated. “It was so remarkable,” she laughed, “It was more bizarre than anything else. It was like, ‘What the fuck?’”
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