CATHERINE O’HARA NOV/DEC 1997

My first encounter with Catherine O'Hara came while punching channels one night in the late ‘70s. In what appeared to be a real NBC promo spot, a freakishly blowsy entertainer named Lola Heatherton was pushing her upcoming series of celebrity interviews. "Way To Go, Woman!" promised in-depth meet ‘n’ greets with “some of the most influential women of our time,” a list that somehow encompassed Sandra O'Connor, Margaret Trudeau and Charlene Tilton. The ad concluded with a clip of Ms. Heatherton, in situ with Mother Teresa, belting an obscenely jaunty serenade of Steve Miller’s “The Joker” (“She’s the cutest thing I ever did see...”). I mean, what the hey? It wasn’t until later that I discovered I’d had my first hit of SCTV.

Conceived as a satire of television, SCTV spent most of its five years on the air acidly trumping the real thing. Most of the time the show was a yin-yan of bristling conceptualism and way retarded slapstick, and for my money more hilarious and complex than its default rival, Saturday Night Live. For one thing, the intelligence of the cast of improv vets John Candy, Rick Moranis, Andrea Martin, Joe Flaherty, Martin Short and Eugene Levy, was allowed remarkably free reign, unheard of on a network series. But then there was O’Hara. Whether in the guise of over-the-hill “filthy singer” Dusty Towne, grasping showbiz ditz Lola Heatherton, or her hallucinatory takes on real celebs like Meryl Streep, Brooke Shields and Linda McCartney, the show’s helium index would practically hit the ceiling whenever she was on screen. She seemed to possess in spades what Ronald Firbank called the hallmark of a great performer: she could make you feel dizzy.

Since leaving SCTV in 1983, Catherine O’Hara’s career has moved in some peculiar directions. Viewed by Hollywood as a cult comedienne, for a while she specialized in quirky characters in movies like After Hours, Heartburn, and Beetlejuice. And although she’s worked a lot since then, it’s unfortunate that most people remember her for the anomalous role of Macaulay Culkin’s mom in the Home Alone movies. Ah, the injustice.

But wait. Earlier this year saw the release of Christopher Guest’s little-indie-that-could, Waiting for Guffman, pointing to a lean return to form. Joined by Fred Willard, SCTV vet Eugene Levy, and Parker Posey, O’Hara’s turn as damaged optimist Sheila Albertson has been pulling raves from all sides, and a starring role in the upcoming comedy Home Fries should finally reestablish her position in the pantheon of the So Damned Funny.

I phoned her in Los Angeles where she lives with her husband Bo Welch, the film production designer, and two young sons.

Steve Lafreniere: For the last six months I've been reading that you'd signed onto this new Barry Levinson film, Wag The Dog, with Dustin Hoffman and DeNiro. But then ...

Catherine O'Hara: Actually, I read in Variety that I was doing it. [laughs] And then I didn't hear any more until the costume designer called me to talk about wardrobe. I said, "Shouldn't I actually have the job first?" I'd done a table reading with all the cast. So I guess they were offering me a job, were being very casual about it! So, no, I didn't do it. I couldn't, I was already working on another film, Home Fries.

SL: Oh, right. That sounded peculiar and interesting.

CO: It was great. A guy named Dean Parisot directed it and he was just really loose, fun, and creative, and great to work with. It's mainly about two brothers who knock off their stepfather at the beginning of the story. It's not made clear whether they meant to scare him or kill him. They do it by order of their mother, but she never owns up to what she wanted them to do. So when they tell her they've killed him she acts like – which is my part – "What? Oh well, I guess. If that's what you thought I meant."

SL: A bleak comedy.

CO: Oh yeah. On paper she seems to be manipulating her sons into doing a lot of horrible things, but never owns up to it. Also the stepfather's been cheating on her with a young girl, and they all try to find out who she is. It ends up to be Drew Barrymore, who one of the sons, played by Luke Wilson, falls in love with. And they were dating in real life, do you believe it?

SL: I was just going to say – was this shot in LA?

CO: No, it's a very un-Hollywood movie. Low-budget and done in Austin, where we did Waiting for Guffman.

SL: I love that little town.

CO: People from all over the rest of Texas always say it's the most "liberal." They don't always say it in a flattering way.

SL: So you made Guffman with Chris Guest, and now Home Fries, another indie film. Do I detect a pattern of downsizing from the big-budget things?

CO: Well, for me they just seem to be more interesting parts. I'm sure there are some great parts for women in bigger films, but I'm not getting them.

SL: Well, you've got a lot of fans who are loving your return to being hilarious. Doing the research for this, I can't tell you how many jaws dropped when I'd say it's an interview with Catherine O'Hara.

CO: Wow, I don't know what that's like. I don't have that in my daily life, that kind of awareness from other people.

SL: Are you ever recognized on the street in Los Angeles? "There's that mean mom from Home Alone!"

CO: When I go out, I try not to think about it. If someone says, "Hi," I figure I know them from somewhere. Once in a while you're aware of it. You go to these Hollywood parties and get your picture taken, and then you think of yourself as a pseudo-celebrity. [laughs]

SL: Well, Waiting for Guffman did brick business here, probably everywhere. Did you know Christopher Guest before he cast you?

CO: I guess I met him in the '70s, but I didn't really know him. We had mutual friends through Saturday Night Live and National Lampoon. I remember going to a recording of National Lampoon and thinking he was sexy and funny. And then Spinal Tap, I thought he was really sexy in that! Then I got a job with Marty Short and Chris Guest coming up with ideas for movies for Castle Rock. And I did a show he produced, a short-lived TV series. We acted together on that and it was really fun. So nuts and creative.

SL: His Corky St. Claire is a precision-accurate stereotype. I'm acquainted with various Corkys.

CO: And man, Chris does not repeat an idea. I've improvised on stage at Second City, but you do it once and that's it, it's gone. And I've improvised around a movie script before, but never like in Guffman, where there was not a word of dialogue written. You improvise totally and do several takes. After you do each take you go, "What do I let go of and what do I hold onto?" or "Do I let go of everything?" or "There was a lighting mistake on that one even though I just did a big joke and it'll never be seen!" So all the time you're saying to yourself, "Let go! Repeat! Let go! Let go! Repeat! Repeat!" And Chris never repeated anything, he was unbelievable. Take after take and he just kept coming up with new stuff.

SL: The scene where's he's working out the dance steps for his play is the gutbuster of '97.

CO: Did you notice his pants were on backwards in that scene? Remember Kriss Kross? [laughs]

SL: You and Fred Willard came up with the "Midnight At the Oasis" audition segment yourselves?

CO: Chris gave us a few songs that could be cleared quickly, and one of them was "Midnight At the Oasis," because a friend of his wrote it or something. He also said, "You know, I love that weird couple that does the coffee commercials, but you don't have to do anything on them." So he was thinking either a song or a commercial, so we put the two together. We went and rehearsed for a couple of hours the day before we shot it, and when we went in to do it for Chris and Bob Balaban, they really hadn't seen it. So we were actually really nervous out in the hall in the scene before we had to do our bit. And then Bob Balaban looks at us like we're insane and have no right to be there! [laughs]

SL: Is it true they shot sixty-some hours of film and just made up the movie from the best bits?

CO: Yes. And I wish they would release a tape of the stuff that didn't get used.

SL: I want to congratulate whoever came up with that hairstyle of yours. The white-lady pretzel.

CO: Well, she won't admit to that. She wanted her name taken off the credit!

SL: Genius never recognizes itself! You know, when we were talking to your reps last month, they said, "You'll have to wait. She's on location shooting an episode of The Outer Limits for Showtime." It sounded so glamorous somehow.

CO: Yeah! My agent also represents Stephen Weber, the guy from Wings. It was going to be his first time directing and he got Stephen King to give him an old story. So, it was just an interesting, twisted little part like I've never played, where a woman shoots herself in the head at the beginning, and has no memory of it. This is supposedly a phenomenon that's medically documented, where people shoot themselves in the head and get up and go to work. The bullet gets lodged somewhere, and maybe they'll slowly go insane … eventually it gets to them. So at the beginning of the show I accidentally shoot myself in the forehead, put a band-aid on it and go on with my life. [laughs] I agreed to act in this if they let me direct one next season.

SL: The most successful characters you've created come out of an improvised, less analytical approach. Is the precision of writing difficult for you?

CO: When you write, you have to write enough so that somebody gets the idea. But then, yeah, you like to leave a lot up to when you're actually performing it. I don't know. I don't like pitching ideas. That part of this job is really scary. If you make a mistake, that's the end of it, you know? At least with those people.

SL: Weird. You'd think your career would mean something to the people in charge of looking for new ideas.

CO: It does to some, and it doesn't to ... I don't know. When I meet people, they're usually very flattering and friendly and they make me feel like I'm welcome in the room, but it's still about that specific job. Whether or not you're right for it or not. It's a mysterious world. No one's quite sure how it works in show business, or they'd be a lot more secure.

SL: You've worked with a ton of legendary stars, from Jonathan Winters to Sir John Gielgud. I even read you were a writer on The Steve Allen Comedy Hour?

CO: Well, I was supposed to just be a writer, but then I was actually on one of them. The most fun part for me was going to Steve Allen's house and seeing his wife, Jayne Meadows, when she'd be running off to an exercise class in high-heels and a Danskin outfit!

SL: Powder blue acrylic, I'd wager.

CO: And Lucille Ball doing the show ...

SL: Oh wow, did she say anything to you?

CO: [down-cold Lucy gargle] "You're funny."

SL: Whenever I show tapes of you doing Lucy, most people think it's actually her. Who else was on this show?

CO: Ummm … Kaye Ballard, Donald O'Connor ... Steve Martin, people like that. But just being in Steve Allen's offices ... Do you know how many books he's written, how unbelievably prolific? He's even written books on doing acid. He has a little tape recorder with him at all times. He records every idea, and he's got at least eight different secretaries all day typing out his tapes. And he uses everything he comes up with. It was a whole different world from Toronto.

SL: Well, here's a thing I find very curious. How did SCTV, with a mostly-Canadian cast, skewer US culture so much better than any Americans seemed capable of, including Saturday Night Live?

CO: Actually, we were parodying a lot of Canadian stuff, especially in the beginning, but no one in the States knew what it was. The whole Melonville premise I think was brought up originally because we didn't dare do New York or LA or Chicago. We didn't have the budget. When we first started it was just very cheap little half-hours.

SL: And you joined Second City in Toronto as a teenager?

CO: Yes. I was nineteen.

SL: Everyone on SCTV looks like they're having too much fun to remember to be careerist.

CO: Yeah, it was like that, it really was. To be around such creative people, and try and make each other laugh, and not to be aware of any audience. In the beginning I couldn't believe I was getting paid. I cashed the checks quickly.

SL: Well, your work on that show was singular. Characters like Lola Heatherton and your glosses on Brooke Shields or Meryl Streep were ultra-cartoony, but inexplicably believable. And you did it all on this demented schedule of writing, rehearsing and shooting, like six days a week?

CO: Most of the time it was going really fast. We were shooting lots of sketches at once. You'd be prepping one and post-producing another and writing another and acting in another. We'd just fly on a couple of ideas and hope the rest would come together, especially when you'd be doing impersonations. But it was so fun that we never got outside of it. When I finally quit the show, it was so I could have a life. I was in my late twenties. Other people in the cast were married and had kids, and I wasn't even dating. So it was good for SCTV that it was so insulated, but not so good for your outside life.

SL: I just finished the Dave Thomas book, Behind the Scenes at SCTV. And I thought, so many fantastical tales – someone should do a movie of this.

CO: Well, I hope they go by a few other versions. I gotta say, I just wish he'd called it Dave Thomas's SCTV. Very few of his memories are my memories. I just wish he hadn't claimed it was the history of the show.

SL: It's pitched a wee bit too far in his favor, yeah. But you come off as this rockin' party girl. I didn't realize you were so into music.

CO: I don't mind that. If John Candy, God bless him, and I get all the credit for bringing bands onto the show, fine. I don't think it's true, but … I try to listen to everything. I grew up on big band music, with my parents, jazz and stuff. But my dad was always into new music, too, what was on the radio. And then Mary Margaret got into bands, so I always followed her around.

SL: That's right, your sister's Mary Margaret O'Hara – she has this wildly acclaimed album. It was on everyone's top ten list last year, it seemed like.

CO: She's done a couple of movies – The Events Leading to My Death and ummm … Candy Mountain. She's active. We were always encouraged in the arts.

SL: Okay, so you've done stage, television, screen and even radio. Maybe it's time to come back to TV again.

CO: Ewwwww. No, I think about it. I get offered different series every once in a while. But they just seem too ... straight. I'd love to do an anthology series with a repertory cast.

SL: Well then, can we at least look forward to the autobiography? And in how many volumes?

CO: Can't imagine. I don't know, maybe when I get old. Did you read the new Lucy book? I read several chapters and then left it in a hotel room by mistake. But it just made me think – she never wrote an autobiography, and then they found all these notes that she'd written and filed away in a drawer. She didn't pursue it, you know. I like that. But the intro was written by her daughter Lucy Arnaz, and she talks about a thing her mom would do when she'd have a party. A woman would get up to use the bathroom, and when she would return, Lucy would turn to a nearby man and say, "Well, here she is now. Why don't you say it to her face?" I've used that so much since!