Cover Story: Anything but plain Jane

Long before

she was an outspoken activist, an Academy Award-winner and a grandmother, Jane Fonda was the daughter of a famous actor trying to make her own way in Hollywood. In 1967, a 30-year-old Fonda starred as the idealistic, doe-eyed young newlywed Corie Bratter to Robert Redford’s staid young lawyer Paul Bratter in Barefoot in the Park, which will be shown June 10 at Screen on the Green in Piedmont Park.

Gene Saks’ adaptation of Neil Simon’s ebullient comedy was something of a honeymoon picture for Fonda, made long before her maturation into an acting heavyweight in films such as They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (1969) and Coming Home (1978). Though Fonda had yet to win her first Oscar for her complex performance as a prostitute in Alan J. Pakula’s 1971 thriller Klute, she showed early signs of her iconoclastic spirit in Barefoot. Even in this early romantic comedy, there are indications of the actress’s desire to play flinty women outside the usual passive heroine mold and invest them with an earthiness that would become her signature.

Some three decades later, one of Atlanta’s most visible liberals talks about, among other things, her upcoming appearance at Piedmont Park’s Screen on the Green, where she and Redford will introduce the screening of Barefoot in the Park.

Creative Loafing: You made Barefoot 37 years ago. What do you wish you knew as an actress then that you know now?

Jane Fonda: I probably knew more then than I do know. I haven’t acted in 15 years. No, I was just where I was supposed to be at that time, for that movie. It was a fabulous experience on every level.

Did you have anything in common with the giddy newlywed Corie Bratter in Barefoot?

I guess you’d say like her, I always want to push the envelope.

How long has it been since you’ve seen Robert Redford?

A month. It’s going to be really fun.

You haven’t made a movie in 15 years. What made you want to get back in the saddle with the upcoming Monster-in-Law?

I’m ready. I didn’t think I ever would say that, frankly. During The Vagina Monologues [which she performed at the Roxy in 2001], I knew that I was different. I wasn’t as scared. I always used to get so scared toward the end of my career. I don’t know, I just feel brave and very, very creative.

You have managed to continually embrace change, while still holding onto your integrity. What keeps you grounded?

I haven’t always been grounded. I feel like all my life I’ve been on a quest, a quest for wholeness, if you will. And if you do life right, the journey is one of constant growth, not laterally, but vertically. You go deeper.

You clearly have a strong work ethic and commitment to charitable causes, but what do you do for fun?

I don’t call it charity. I call it social change. Charity’s when you give handouts. What I try to do is give ladders and trampolines so people can climb out of despair. And that’s what I do for fun. I also bike ride, and Atlanta’s a great place to bike ride at this time of year. It’s just glorious; the smells and the sight of the blossoms. I play with my grandchildren. Talk to my kids. Hike.

Many younger women seem to be rejecting the feminist label. Do you consider yourself a feminist?

Totally. Absolutely. It’s because they don’t understand.

What do they not understand?

All feminism means is that you’re fully who you are, that you’re not stifling any part of yourself in order to be accepted.

What is the most important issue in your mind, for the next president to address?

The immediate issue is resolving Iraq. But after that, it’s stopping climate change and alleviating poverty.

Are you worried history is repeating itself with the war in Iraq?

Totally. Only this is different because this is worse, in a way — if anything could have been worse than the Vietnam War.

Why do you think it’s worse?

Because religious wars don’t end after a few years. They go on for hundreds of years.

Is it hard being such a famous liberal in a town as conservative as Atlanta?

No, it’s great. That’s why I’m staying. Who wants to be talking to the choir? What I like about Georgia is it’s just more like real life. So if you want to be an agent of change, it’s a wonderful place to live. Because you’re seeing what the real obstacles are for most of America.