Maggie Smith： A Genre to Herself 自成一格的瑪吉·史密斯

看過英劇《唐頓莊園》的人恐怕都對其中的老伯爵夫人印象深刻。演員瑪吉·史密斯將這一角色塑造得惟妙惟肖，也使自己的事業在人生的暮年又迎來高峰。扎實的戲劇功底、數十年的從業經歷、戰勝癌癥惡魔的樂觀精神，再到如今歷經風霜之后的淡然態度，讓這位年逾八十的老戲骨仍能奉獻出一部部電影和電視佳作，也使她成為英國表演事業的瑰寶。瑪吉·史密斯要演到多少歲？這一點不得而知，但可以確定的是，老太太向來不會讓我們失望。

“Do you know Paris？” The question is shamefully inconsequential1）， a piece of conversational putty while I am trying to process Dame Maggie Smith’s wicked， but entirely truthful， admission that she cannot remember much about her latest film2）， except that it is set in Paris， and that as usual she plays the part of an old battleaxe3）.

Paris！ It is as though the lid has been lifted on a box of snakes. Her memories of being ambushed produce a frisson4） of displeasure. She would love to have drifted through the city， visiting museums and art galleries， but it was impossible. “I was besieged by Americans and Downton Abbey，” she recoils5）. “That’s never happened to me before. It’s television that does it. It was awful. I love wandering around on my own and I just couldn’t.”

Even in England， the consequences of becoming a television celebrity （more shivers） through her formidable6） impersonation of Violet， Downton’s Dowager Countess of Grantham， can be unnerving. “I don’t go to places and if I do I nearly always have to have a friend. It’s very difficult when you’re on your own because you have no escape.”

The jostling7） curiosity of a herd of bullocks comes to mind. How does she deal with it？

“Run away mostly. I just make a beeline and go， go， go. It is hard. I don’t know how people cope with it. What do they do， these huge movie stars？ What the hell do they do？ Perhaps they never go out. I certainly don’t think they walk around on their own. If they want a word of advice， don’t do it in Paris.”

Her voice carries a withering8） sort of incredulity9） with echoes of Violet Crawley and Harry Potter’s Prof Minerva McGonagall. This is vintage10） Smith， refusing to put herself in the stellar cast where she so obviously belongs， deliciously affronted by vulgar curiosity and yet fully acknowledging both the privilege and the absurdity of being in demand at the age of … we might as well say 92.

“I’m always older than God in these parts now，” she says with benign resignation11）. Back in 1991， when she was playing Granny Wendy Darling in Hook， Steven Spielberg asked a friend of hers in the costume department： “How old is Maggie Smith？”

“My friend said without hesitation： ‘Ninety-two.’ I’ve been that ever since. They don’t need to make me up any more， I’m afraid. I’ve caught up with myself.

“I was doing a scene with Penelope Wilton [the righteous Isobel Crawley in Downton] the other day and I got up with my stick and started wobbling12） around. ‘Why am I acting old？’ I said. ‘Why am I doing this？ I am old！’ I’m trying to work it out： If I’m my age， the Dowager Countess of Grantham must be about 110 by now. She has become a monster.”

Smith is untouchable now—typecast13）， yes， by virtue of her age， but sharp as a tack14）， richly unpredictable and beyond censure. She can turn an ordinary sentence from dross to gold. By what alchemy is unclear. Julian Fellowes， creator of Downton， gets close： “Maggie has this quality of imbuing15） every line with a wit and a dimension it does not deserve. For a writer this is an attractive gift in an actor. She also has a unique sense of comedy， based on a somewhat ironic view of real life， making it both funnier and more sad.”

The reason she seems hazy about My Old Lady is that parts have been coming thick and fast16）. “It seems so long ago and so much has happened. I’m trying to remember whether I did it before the thing in India [Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 2]. My head’s confused with that and Downton Abbey. It’s all been merged. It’s feast or famine in this profession.”

Although life without work would be alarmingly shapeless， she feels she has been working too much recently. “The curious thing is I’ve been doing things that go on and on， like Harry Potter and Downton. I need to stop and take a breath—but I can’t.” She is about to reprise17） her eponymous18） role in The Lady in the Van， a film version of the play Alan Bennett19） wrote for her and which she played in 2000.

She calls Harry Potter her pension. It helps to educate her five grandchildren. “I’m on my own， so it’s lovely to be able to help my sons.”

Smith has been famous for 60 years， but with nothing like the worldwide reach she has now in the autumn of her career. She made her debut with the Oxford University Drama Society in 1952. In 1963 she played Desdemona opposite20） Laurence Olivier21） but as a young actress she felt inadequate and visually wrong. “I think there is an accepted way that a face should be， and I’m not like that.” Not that the lack of conventional beauty held her back. She won her first Oscar for The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie in 1969， the second for California Suite in 1978. Honours and awards （including five Baftas22）） have been flowing ever since.

She claims she has never had a career plan or an ambition to play a specific part in her life. “It’s what turns up， quite honestly. When I started out I didn’t have any of this [film and television roles] in mind. Not a scrap of it. I just thought it was going to be all theatre and wonderful.”

She finds film-acting a test of endurance. “In the theatre you knew where you were at. You knew you had to go there in the evening or for the matinee23） and you had a length of time to prepare yourself and then you did it. But this is like being on demand every minute of what seems to me to be 12-hour days or more. Schedules seem to get shorter and shorter.

“If you have a terrible night in the theatre， you think tomorrow it’ll all be wonderful， but you can never put right a thing that’s forever on film.” Probably just as well， she decides. “Because there would always be something I wanted to change. There would never be a take that would be right. You’d go raving mad.”

The dangerous intimacy of television bothers her. “People are in a room with you， aren’t they？ I suppose they feel they know you very well. In the theatre you were remote. There was always a kind of distance， more mystery. You could be a very different person. This is really [she slaps the palms of her hands together close to her cheek] in your face. It’s not a whole lot of fun.”

Last year she received an Evening Standard “icon” award for her theatre work， but sounded regretful that she had done so little to earn it. （After getting over breast cancer in 2008， she seemed to have lost the nerve for theatre.） “Everything’s an icon，” she says. “If you have been around long enough you are an icon. A rather dusty icon … or a national treasure.”

I have never met an actor with less belief in legacy—her own or anyone else’s. After the obituaries and the tributes， fame vanishes. She thinks of her recently departed friend Lauren Bacall24）， and of Robin Williams， extravagantly eulogized25）， quickly forgotten. “It doesn’t last. The world is replenished26） all the time. I don’t think people will remember.”

She keeps no diaries， writes no memoirs and was “in no way connected” with the biography written about her in 1992. “It’s ceaseless， all these books people write. There’s no mystery left to anything.”

Since the death of her second husband， the playwright and screenwriter Beverley Cross， in 1998， Smith has lived alone. Work stops her thinking about loss but when filming comes to an end， it creeps back. “They say it goes away but it doesn’t. It just gets different. It’s awful， but what do you do？ After the busyness you are more alone， much more. A day that is absolutely crowded keeps your mind away from why you are alone but when it stops there is that deafening silence.”

Although September is supposed to be her month off， she is plotting how to fill the void. “I shall be dedicating myself to Alan Bennett and The Lady in the Van. Learn， learn， learn. Mercifully it does look familiar.”

She has no difficulty in learning lines—but touches polished wood in the hope of never needing “one of those awful things they shove in people’s ears”—a permanent prompt27）. “Can you imagine？” she says. “You’d have that rather distracted look.” And she’s away， mimicking the vacant American actress who， it is said， opened with “Good morning， everybody. Move down left of centre” instead of her lines.

It doesn’t look funny written down， it isn’t particularly funny， but we both collapse with laughter. “I’m sure it’s apocryphal28） but I just love it.” Smith is a genre all to herself.

“您熟悉巴黎嗎？”這個問題真是瑣碎得令人汗顏。當我聽到瑪吉·史密斯女爵惡作劇般卻又十分坦誠地承認她對自己最近的一部電影印象不深，只記得影片的故事發生在巴黎，而她在片中一如既往地扮演了一位厲害的老太太時，我一邊努力地消化這些信息，一邊提出了這個問題以免冷場。

巴黎！聽到這個字眼就像給一個裝滿蛇的盒子揭開了蓋兒。被人圍追堵截的回憶讓她面露不快，打了個寒戰。她本想在那座城市里四處逛逛，參觀一下博物館和美術館，但那是不可能的。“我被美國人和有關《唐頓莊園》的問題包圍了，”她畏縮地說，“我以前從來沒碰到過這種情況。全是電視惹的禍。太可怕了。我喜歡一個人隨便走走，但根本不行。”

即便在英國，由于她出色演繹了《唐頓莊園》中的格蘭瑟姆伯爵夫人維奧萊特一角而成為電視名人（再打幾個寒戰），隨之而來的結果也令人不知所措。“我不怎么出門，要是出門的話基本上都得找個朋友陪著我。一個人出門很麻煩，因為無處可逃。”

我腦中浮現出一群小蠻牛滿懷好奇、互相推搡的情景。她如何應付呢？

“多數情況下就是跑開。我會直奔一個方向，然后不停地走走走。不好躲。我不知道別人怎么應對這種情況。那些電影巨星是怎么做的？他們到底怎么做？也許他們從來都不出門。我覺得他們肯定不會一個人四處溜達。如果想聽我一句忠告，那就是在巴黎時別這么干。”

她的聲音里帶著一種尖刻的懷疑語氣，讓人想起維奧萊特·克勞利和《哈利·波特》中的米勒娃·麥格教授。這正是最典型的史密斯，她顯然是位明星，卻不愿將自己歸入明星之列。大眾的好奇心讓她受到了“甜蜜”的冒犯，但她也完全承認，都這把年紀了——我們不妨說是92歲好了——仍然受人歡迎，她覺得既榮幸又荒唐。

“我現在演的總是些老到不能再老的角色。”她寬厚、豁達地說。早在1991年，她在《鐵鉤船長》中扮演溫迪·達林老奶奶時，史蒂文·斯皮爾伯格就曾問過她在道具組的一位朋友：“瑪吉·史密斯多大年紀了？”

“我的朋友毫不遲疑地回答說：‘92歲。’從此我就是這個歲數了。恐怕他們再也不用給我化妝了，我看上去已經到這把年紀了。

“前幾天，我和佩內洛普·威爾頓（在《唐頓莊園》中飾演正直的伊索貝爾·克勞利）合演一場戲，我拄著手杖站起來，開始顫顫巍巍地走來走去。‘我為什么要扮老？’我說，‘我為什么要這么做？我已經老了！’我在設法搞清楚：如果我是現在的年紀，那我演的老格蘭瑟姆伯爵夫人現在就得有110歲上下。她已經變成老怪物了。”

如今的史密斯是無與倫比的——沒錯，由于年齡的緣故，她的角色已經定型，但她仍然思維敏捷，難以捉摸，無可指摘。她可以將一句普普通通的話點石成金，沒人知道她使用了何種魔法。《唐頓莊園》的制作人朱利安·費洛斯說得很貼切：“瑪吉有一種本事，能夠為每句臺詞注入一種其自身所不具備的機智和維度。對編劇而言，演員的這種天賦很有吸引力。她還具有一種獨特的喜劇感，這種喜劇感來自對現實生活的幾分嘲諷態度，因而更加詼諧，也更加令人感傷。”

她之所以對《可愛老女人》印象模糊，是因為大量的角色接踵而來。“感覺那是很久以前拍的了，之后又發生了好多事。我在努力回想那部片子是不是在印度那部戲（《涉外大飯店2》）之前拍的。我把它和《唐頓莊園》弄混了。全都混在一起了。當演員就是這樣，要么無戲可拍，要么片約不斷。”

雖然不工作時的生活沒有條理，讓人不安，但史密斯覺得自己近來工作太多了。“奇怪的是，我演的戲都會不斷地拍下去，像《哈利·波特》和《唐頓莊園》都是如此。我需要停下來緩口氣——可是卻辦不到。”她即將在影片《貨車里的女人》中再度演繹片名中的角色，這部電影改編自艾倫·貝內特為史密斯創作并由她在2000年出演的戲劇。

她把《哈利·波特》稱作自己的養老金，從中獲得的酬勞讓她資助了五個孫輩的教育。“我一個人生活，所以能幫上兒子們是件好事。”

史密斯已經成名60年了，不過直到現在處于職業生涯晚期她才獲得如此廣泛的國際影響力。1952年，她在牛津大學戲劇社的演出中初登舞臺。1963年，她與勞倫斯·奧利維爾搭檔，飾演了苔絲德蒙娜（編注：莎士比亞戲劇《奧賽羅》中的角色）。但作為一名年輕演員，她感到自己演技尚弱，形象也不合適。“我認為人們對角色的容貌有一個既定的標準，我并不符合要求。”雖然她不具備傳統意義上的美貌，但她的事業并未受阻。1969年，影片《簡·布羅迪小姐的青春》（又譯《春風不化雨》）為她贏得第一尊奧斯卡獎;1978年，她憑借《加州套房》再次獲此殊榮。此后，各種榮譽和獎項（包括五次英國電影學院獎）便紛至沓來。

她說自己從來沒有過什么職業規劃，也沒有過這輩子一定要扮演哪個特定角色的雄心壯志。“很坦白地說，都是碰到什么就演什么。剛入行時，我完全沒有考慮過這些（電影和電視角色），一點兒也沒想過。我當時就想著會一直演戲劇，會很美好。”

她覺得演電影是個考驗耐力的工作。“在劇場里，你知道自己身在何處。你知道自己得在晚上或午后來到劇場，你有一段時間做準備，然后就上臺演出。但是，拍電影就像是在好多天的時間里隨時候命，而在我看來似乎每天要工作12個小時或更長時間。時間安排得似乎越來越緊湊。

“演戲劇時，如果有一晚演砸了，你會想明天的演出將會很精彩。而一旦表演被永遠地固定在膠片上，你就再也無法改正了。”不過她斷定，或許這樣也好。“因為總有些是我想要改進的。那就永遠不會有恰當的鏡頭了。你會徹底瘋掉的。”

電視帶來的那種危險的親密感讓史密斯頗為煩惱：“人們就跟你待在同一個房間里，不是嗎？我覺得他們會自認為跟你很熟。在劇場里，演員與觀眾總隔得很遠。總是保持著某種距離，就有更多的神秘感。你可以變成一個完全不同的人。而電視實在是（她雙手啪的一聲合在一起靠近臉頰）讓人拉不開距離。這不是特別好玩。”

去年（編注：英文原文發表于2014年11月），史密斯憑借在戲劇領域的工作獲得了《標準晚報》頒發的“偶像”獎，但是她聽上去似乎有些遺憾，覺得自己做得太少了，不配這項獎。（在2008年戰勝乳腺癌之后，她似乎失去了演戲劇的勇氣。）“什么都能成為偶像，”她說，“只要你干得足夠久，你就是偶像，一個黯淡無光的偶像……或者國寶什么的。”

她是我遇到過的最不重視身后名的演員——無論是她自己的還是別人的。在訃告和悼念過后，名聲也隨之消散。她想到最近過世的朋友勞倫·白考爾和羅賓·威廉姆斯，他們被人們大加贊頌，之后又被迅速遺忘。“名聲不會持久。這個世界隨時都新人輩出。我想人們不會記得的。”

她不記日記，不寫回憶錄，而且與1992年出版的那本關于她的傳記“毫無瓜葛”。“他們無休無止地寫這些書，搞得什么都沒有神秘感了。”

自從她的第二任丈夫、劇作家和編劇貝弗利·克羅斯于1998年過世之后，史密斯一直獨自生活。工作讓她無暇念及喪夫之痛，但當拍攝工作結束后，悲傷會偷偷地再度襲來。“人們說悲傷會消散，但其實不會，只是會換一種形式。這很可怕，可是你又能怎么辦呢？繁忙過后，你會更加孤獨，倍感孤獨。忙碌不堪的一天讓你無暇思考自己為什么孤獨，但是忙碌過后，就會有那種令人窒息的寂靜。”

這個9月她本該休息，但她正在計劃如何填補這段空白。“我會把時間都獻給艾倫·貝內特和《貨車里的女人》。背詞，背詞，背詞。好在看上去確實還挺眼熟。”

背臺詞對她來說不成問題——但她碰了碰拋光的木頭（編注：源于英國迷信，認為用手碰木頭可以使好運延續），以期永遠不要用到“他們往人們耳朵里塞的那種可怕的玩意”——隨時待命的提詞裝置。“你能想象嗎？”她說，“你會露出那種非常心不在焉的表情。”她說到這兒就開始模仿那位茫然的美國女演員，據說那位演員的開場白說的不是自己的臺詞，而是“大家早上好，沿中間靠左往前走”。

這件事寫出來并不好笑，本身也不是特別好笑，可是我們倆都控制不住地大笑起來。“我敢肯定這是杜撰的，但我太喜歡這個故事了。”史密斯就是這么個自成一格的人。

1. inconsequential [?n?k?ns??kwen?（?）l] adj. 無關緊要的，不重要的

2. her latest film：指2014年上映的影片《可愛老女人》（My Old Lady）。

3. battleaxe [?b?t（?）l??ks] n. 悍婦

4. frisson [?fri?s?n] n. （因激動、恐懼或喜悅而產生的）戰栗，寒戰

5. recoil [r??k??l] vi. 后退;退縮

6. formidable [?f??（r）m?d?b（?）l] adj. 令人驚嘆的;優秀的

7. jostle [?d??s（?）l] v. 推搡;推擠

8. withering [?w?e?r??] adj. （眼神、話語）尖刻的;令人難堪的

9. incredulity [??nkr??dju?l?ti] n. 不相信，懷疑

10. vintage [?v?nt?d?] adj. 最典型的

11. resignation [?rez?ɡ?ne??（?）n] n. 順從;屈從;忍受

12. wobble [?w?b（?）l] vi. 蹣跚;晃動

13. typecast [?ta?p?kɑ?st] vt. 讓演員老演同一類型的角色

14. sharp as a tack：聰明;思維敏捷

15. imbue [?m?bju?] vt. 使充滿;灌輸

16. thick and fast：大量而急速地;紛至沓來

17. reprise [r??pri?z] vt. 重演

18. eponymous [??p?n?m?s] adj. （戲劇、書中男女主角）與作品同名的

19. Alan Bennett：艾倫·貝內特（1934～），英國劇作家、編劇、演員

20. opposite [??p?z?t] prep. 與……聯袂演出

21. Laurence Olivier：勞倫斯·奧利維爾（1907～1989），英國電影演員、導演和制片人，是20世紀最著名和最受尊崇的演員之一。

22. Bafta：英國電影學院獎，由英國電影和電視藝術學院頒發的電影、電視藝術的最高表彰，相當于美國的奧斯卡獎。

23. matinee [?m?t?ne?] n. （戲劇、電影的） 午后場

24. Lauren Bacall：勞倫·白考爾（1924～2014），美國好萊塢老一代明星演員，曾獲第82屆奧斯卡終身成就獎。

25. eulogize [?ju?l?d?a?z] vt. 稱贊，贊美

26. replenish [r??plen??] vt. 重新裝滿;補充

27. prompt [pr?mpt] n. （對演員的）提白;提詞

28. apocryphal [??p?kr?f（?）l] adj. 真實性可疑的;杜撰的