Martin Scorsese Asked Laura Dern a Question That Changed Her Life

I did. He had me stand in the dark, to the left of the camera, as he shot through the door of a small bathroom. At that moment, I watched two women—my mother and Ellen Burstyn—deliver a fiercely honest and emotional performance.

With Marty as their guide, they produced something deeper than what was on the script’s page. They captured the essence of what being scared as a mother feels like. In the shadows, I said to myself, “Oh, I want to be part of that thing.”

I grew up in the Santa Monica section of Los Angeles. My mother and father, actor Bruce Dern, divorced when I was 2, so I lived with my mother. When she was away working on a film, Grandma Mary often stepped in.

We first lived in a small Spanish house from the late 1920s with a terracotta roof, but we relocated several times in the area.

Being raised by actors, post-divorce, who were building careers and didn’t get paid well, I was often waiting for Mom’s return home or being put on a plane to visit her. My favorite game when I was home with Grandma Mary was to play flight attendant. I’d set up the dining chairs in rows and pretend to serve passengers. Flight attendants were so graceful and poised.

As my interest in acting grew, so did my mother’s worries. She wanted to protect me from rejection. She also feared routine casting remarks like “She’s too tall” or “Why is she wearing glasses?” would do a number on me.

But that stuff wasn’t a bother. At 10, my mother took me to a party at actor Bo Hopkins’ house. There, I met a children’s film agent. I said, “My mom and daddy won’t help me, and I want to act.”

Once my mom heard about my commitment, she let me do a general audition for casting director Lynn Stalmaster. I read from the script of “Audrey Rose.” He was impressed.

Soon after, we went to a dinner at Lee Strasberg’s house. He suggested I take children’s classes at the Lee Strasberg Theatre Institute in Hollywood. Those classes taught me that acting is both a craft and a sacrifice.

One weekend, I had a choice. I could either go to a friend’s fun swim party or attend acting class. Classes won hands down. That was my happy place.

A kid’s summer course at Harvard came next and lessons with acting coach Tracey Roberts. When I was 13, Lee Strasberg let me audit his class.

Meanwhile, I was having a relatively normal life in middle school. I auditioned for Adrian Lyne’s “Foxes,” but didn’t get the lead. I was too young. Not long after, he called back offering me a smaller part.

So “Foxes” in 1980 became my first movie. I was in seventh grade and had left school to film. Back in school, I was so excited to talk about the experience, but classmates were jealous and put off.

In ninth grade, I was cast in the school play as Sally Cato, Auntie Mame’s undermining rival in “Mame.” I had blast. Acting opportunities outside of school continued.

At UCLA, I wanted to dive into other subjects, so I decided to major in psychology and journalism. But two days after college began, I left. David Lynch had cast me in “Blue Velvet,” and UCLA wouldn’t let me take a leave. I had to choose.

“Blue Velvet” was a turning point and the start of the greatest working relationship of my life. I think David saw me as the girl next door with twisted angst and a longing for purity.

Today, I live in the Santa Monica area with my two kids. We moved into our midcentury house about six years ago. What I love is that we get plenty of light and it feels like a treehouse.

In 2018, my mother’s breathing became labored. She was misdiagnosed with pneumonia and given six months to live. In fact, her breathing issues were a result of pesticides sprayed over the years near her former home in Ojai, Calif. I pushed her to walk daily to expand her lungs and rebuild her strength. She has made a miraculous recovery.

On the set of “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore,” Marty cast me as a child extra sitting at the diner counter. There were 16 takes of the scene, so I had to eat 16 ice cream cones. At the end, he said to my mom, “Your daughter just ate 16 ice cream cones and didn’t throw up. She’s an actress.”

Laura’s Fireplace

New memoir? I knew Mom would walk only if she forgot we were walking. I taped our conversations to archive them for my children. Then my film agent thought it might be a book.

Favorite home ritual? Reading by my gas fireplace each evening.

Why? We were so cold filming “Little Women” in 2018, I’d build massive fires to stay warm. I like reading in the flickering light, just as Louisa May Alcott did.

Fave sport? Swimming. I love the ocean.

Ice cream? Still eat it, but nondairy. Any flavor with chocolate chips will do.