by Jane Lynch
In fact, I was so engaged that I didn’t really even contemplate what I would do if I won. The night of the show, after the triumph of our opening number, while I was getting back into my gown, I came up with some talking points in my head, “just in case.” It turned out to be a good thing to have thought about, because Stephen Colbert called my name as the winner of the award for best supporting actress in a comedy. I remembered to thank my parents, appreciate my incredibly talented fellow nominees and the fantastic ensemble I am fortunate to be a part of, and to give a shout-out to my wife and Haden. It was also my opportunity to tell the world how proud I am to be an actor.
Back at work, post-Emmy, Ryan gave me another piece of good news: Olivia Newton-John had agreed to do a guest spot on Glee, and she and I would remake the “Physical” video. I immediately asked Ryan, “Are you trying to make all of my dreams come true?”
I am not often privy to how our guest stars make their way onto the show, other than the usual scuttlebutt about who knows who and how, but this time I was there when it happened. It had started back in August, after our summer hiatus, at that dinner with the whole cast and Fox executives where they told us our lives were about to change. I had been talking with Ryan when he pointed out a distinguished gentleman having dinner with his large family in the restaurant. “That’s John Farrar,” he said. He didn’t need to tell me that this was the guy who’d written “Hopelessly Devoted to You” and several other hits for Olivia Newton-John. Ryan and I were both huge fans of Olivia; in fact, he credits her with teaching him how to sing, from listening to his mother’s copy of Olivia’s If You Love Me, Let Me Know album. (I knew the LP in question quite well, having had that raging crush on her back in high school. At that time, I’d also replaced my boy-crush Ron Howard with John Travolta, so when I heard Olivia and John Travolta were doing Grease, I almost imploded.) Ryan suggested we get ourselves over to John Farrar’s table to “commence our campaign to get Olivia Newton-John on Glee.”
John Farrar couldn’t have been more gracious and welcoming. He was also shocked we knew who he was; Ryan and I were very up on our Olivia Newton-John, so of course we knew who he was; he’d also written “If Not for You,” “Let Me Be There,” and who could forget “Physical”?
We told him all about our new show, and then Ryan asked, “Do you think Olivia would be interested in being on Glee?” John replied that she was living in Florida now and very busy with her charitable work, but we should approach her. He said she would be thrilled that we were such big fans. I asked if he thought it might help if I told her I had named my dog after her. (On this, he was noncommittal.)
Mission accomplished.
Ryan sent Olivia every episode of Glee to date and a letter asking her to honor us with her talent and her presence.
She was a living doll, that Olivia Newton-John, and indeed, she was very moved that I had named my Lhasa after her. She delightfully took part in our making all sorts of fun of her humanitarian work, and we giggled our way through the “Physical” video.
In December of 2010, I was nominated for another Golden Globe, and this time they gave it to me. As my category was announced, my fear of snaking my way through those star-studded tables to the stage caused me to plead silently, Please don’t say Jane Lynch, please don’t say Jane Lynch. But when they said “Jane Lynch,” I thought, You’re damn right, Jane Lynch!
I took that opportunity to thank the brilliant Ian Brennan, the creator of Sue Sylvester and the man responsible for every heinous line that comes out of my mouth. He is an incredibly nice and sweet guy who just happens to have a really cruel, supremely mean sense of humor. Of my and Ian’s relationship, the New York Times said, “Behind most great comedic actors, the saying goes, there is a great comedic writer. Will Ferrell has Adam McKay. Jack Lemmon had Billy Wilder. And Jane Lynch, who won an Emmy Award last month for her portrayal of Sue Sylvester, the acid-spewing, narcissism-redefining cheerleading coach on ‘Glee,’ has Ian Brennan.” I feel so lucky to be able to deliver his deliciously brutal lines. I am forever in debt to this fellow Chicago boy who is eighteen years my junior (I realized that he had been born on the day I performed Godspell in high school). Among my favorites so far are:
“So you like show tunes. It doesn’t mean you’re gay. It just means you’re awful.”
“I’m going to ask you to smell your armpits. That’s the smell of failure, and it’s stinking up my office.”
“You think this is hard? I am passing a gallstone as we speak, that’s hard!”
“I don’t trust a man with curly hair. I can’t help picturing small birds laying sulfurous eggs in there, and I find it disgusting.”
“I never wanted kids. Don’t have the time. Don’t have the uterus.”
Sue Sylvester’s better half.
Photo courtesy of Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images Entertainment/Getty Images
I thank the comedy gods every day for putting us together.
In this run of celebratory fun for the success of Glee, there have been some events that have really emphasized to me how bizarre fame is. Foremost among them was my invitation to be replicated in wax as Sue Sylvester for Madame Tussauds museum. It was a high honor for me—and a tribute to the popularity of Glee—that Sue had become a television icon in one season, and I am not too humble to give some of that credit to myself.
In July of 2010, Lara, Haden, and I were driven in a black limo to the back door of Madame Tussauds museum on Hollywood Boulevard for the big unveiling ceremony. I had gone through the meticulous measuring session a few months before; using ancient tools that looked like instruments of torture, they calculated every part of my face in relation to every other—e.g., the distance of my ear to my cheekbone, cheekbone to the tip of my nose, etc. They matched the exact shade of my eye white and photographed me from all angles as I was slowly spun around on a lazy Susan for humans. I was curious as all get out to see my person captured in wax. They ushered us very quietly into a meeting room where people were already assembled. I saw my agents Gabrielle and Mark, Ian Brennan, some Glee fans, and the well-dressed, lifelike, but completely still wax figures of Morgan Freeman, Halle Berry, and Tom Hanks, which just completely freaked me out. For some reason, everyone was speaking in hushed tones. When the museum representative requested gravely that “the family come this way, please” and led us into a waiting area, it suddenly hit me that I felt like we were at a wake. This feeling would only intensify when I finally viewed the wax image of myself. All I could think was This is how I will look in a coffin when I’m dead. Though I was grateful that they had made my ass look good, I was also glad that my own last will and testament specified cremation for my remains.
As they led us back inside after the unveiling, I saw two museum workers getting on an elevator with my wax figure, one guy carrying my red tracksuited body while the other one had my decapitated head in his armpit. Minutes earlier, I had wondered if there was anything stranger than standing next to your own lifelike wax figure. The answer is: yes.
Luckily, these surreal fame-driven experiences were more than balanced by the really wonderful family and work relationships that formed the core of my life. By the end of July 2010, Lara and Haden were all moved in and happily ensconced in Los Angeles. Haden was due to start Wonderland Elementary in Laurel Canyon in the fall. We set up a temporary home in West Hollywood and started rebuilding my Canyon home to accommodate my new family. I had started working with an architect and designer a year before I even met Lara, as my little house was bursting at the seams with just me. It took an entire year to get the permits, so we were just about to break ground when the girls moved to LA. We would be adding a second story in addition to reworking the entire floor plan. Though I had no idea I would soon be married with children when I was initially designing my new home, I had accommodated for them beautifully. I wondered if this was a case of “if you build it, they will come.”
Though still in our West Hollywood rental, I can’t tell you how great it
was to wake up every day with the people I love in my house, and the license to call them mine. My oldest niece, Megan, moved in with us as well. At twenty-five years old, my sister’s oldest child had become an exceptional human being with a terrific sense of humor. She also just adores kids and really embraced her new cousin Haden. I got a kick out of it every time she took Haden on an outing to Yogurtland and they came back giggling. Once, when Lara and I were coming home, we saw them walking down our block, holding hands. There was so much love all around, and I felt so at home.
One of the biggest surprises in my life has been the great joy I have gotten from becoming a mom. It didn’t take long before I pretty much had the hang of it. After all, I have a kid who loves to read lines and laugh with me. Our current favorite scene to reenact is the 1960s game show scene I did with Kristen Wiig when I hosted Saturday Night Live. Haden is obsessed with Kristen (so am I) and embodies her part in that bit to a tee. And just like me, Haden will work on a moment over and over again to get the timing just right.
Me and Kristen Wiig on Saturday Night Live.
Photo courtesy of Dana Edelson/NBC
The most challenging part so far has been remembering that she needs to eat with some regularity. Lara loves to cook and is usually in charge of this activity, but once a month she travels back to Florida to see her other daughter (she and her ex are now working together to repair and unite the family) and meals are left up to me. One Friday when Lara was in Sarasota and Haden had the day off from school for Cesar Chavez Day, I was in the midst of writing this very book you have in your hands. We arose at 8 A.M., and I sat her in front of the TV on one couch and myself with my computer on the other, and we both proceeded to lose ourselves in our activities.
Now, when Haden watches TV, she goes away and becomes completely disconnected from anything in the room other than what’s on the screen; I have had to literally “wake” her from this all-consuming stupor. When I write, I go away, too, and I don’t mean that I drift off peacefully into a land of creativity and inspiration. It’s more like exercise: I grunt and sigh, slap my head trying to find the right word. I growl when the thread of an idea gets away from me, typing furiously with two index fingers. It was 1 P.M. when I looked up to find Haden standing at the foot of my couch. She said, “I’m sooo hungry.” I was, too, and neither of us had gone to the bathroom for hours, either. We took care of that first, and then I microwaved a piece of leftover pizza for her. The most amazing part is that when this sort of thing happens (and we both know it will again), she eats her pizza, and forgives me.
When I went back to work for the second season of Glee late that summer, I felt like I had finally found my work home. To be able to return to the same cast and crew for the second season was wonderful. I was more than ready to get into my comfy tracksuit and menacingly destroy the glee club.
The cast and crew of Glee is filled with talented, funny, and hardworking people. The Glee kids are all very sweet and professional and really seem to be enjoying the roller-coaster ride of a lifetime that is our show. They work so much harder than me; when they are not shooting, they are rehearsing or recording. They are up at the crack of dawn, and it’s not uncommon for them to work fifteen-hour days. It tickles me when I see them work together as a creative group getting through any differences for the good of the whole. Just like the glee club at McKinley High, in real life these actors support one another and allow one another to shine. They are loyal friends to one another both on the soundstage and off. My niece Megan was a production assistant on last season’s Glee tour, and she has become a part of their group, and I couldn’t be more pleased with her new friends.
In particular, I have become a fan of Chris Colfer, our fashionable boy soprano. I not only admire Chris the actor but also Chris the human. When we shot the pilot, Chris was a mere nineteen years old and just fresh out of high school. His coming of age and coming out of the closet has mirrored that of his character, Kurt, and it has played out in full view of the public eye. I couldn’t be more proud of him, as he has walked his own path with such grace and dignity. He has become an inspiration not only to gay and lesbian kids all over the planet but to all kids who feel less than “normal” and fear exposure. Even as adults, and I’ll speak for myself as a fifty-year-old one, we’re all still in high school in that regard. I am so happy we have a courageous and fashion-forward role model to look up to. It’s a lot to put on his young shoulders, but luckily Chris has an inner grandma that helps him keep his feet on the ground and his eye on his work. He’s already writing and producing his own projects, and I fully expect to be begging him for a job in the future. I will be sure to bring along this paragraph of praise when I do, hoping it will net me something.
Chris Colfer and me.
I’ve worked most with Matt Morrison, our steadfast glee club director, Mr. Schuester, and my affection for him runs deep. The extent of his gift as a singer and dancer just floors me, and his sex appeal is off the charts. But what I value most of all in Matt is that he is kind. When he talks, all of his impressions and thoughts are first filtered through his compassionate heart. His sense of humor is still off-color and can be as crude as I like it, but cynicism is not his thing and I love him for that. Whenever I’m tempted to engage in gossip and pettiness, all it takes is one look into Matt’s soulful eyes (complete with the fullest set of lashes ever given to a person) to get me right back into my heart.
Matt and I find something very amusing that Cory does not.
Photo courtesy of (Justin Jay)/FOX
On-set, he has claimed Will Schuester’s school office as his own, and I often see him in there during downtime, on his computer, with his headphones on, working on his own music. He always seems completely content with his own company; he loves to travel and go off on adventures all by his lonesome, doing things like jumping out of airplanes. The thought of doing anything like that, much less by myself, terrifies me, but I greatly admire his wanderlust and his need to try new things. I count myself lucky that when we work together he often hangs out with me and talks; I appreciate so much that he lets me into his private world. He also has genuine affection for Lara and Haden. He lights up when he sees them and gives them huge hugs. In this way, he feels even more a part of my family, and working with him hardly feels like a job at all. It really is my work home.
The second season of Glee also brought me the gift of another amazing guest star. Soon after we all returned, Ryan told me he’d gotten Carol Burnett to agree to play Sue Sylvester’s mother. My first thought was God, I love this job.
This wasn’t the first time that I’d had the chance to work with Carol. I’d first met her back in 2007 when we did a movie together called Post Grad. Except for Carol playing my mother-in-law, and Michael Keaton my husband, the film was unremarkable. As Carol would say much later, it could only be seen on Airbuses bound for New Zealand. But for me the experience was magical. My childhood dream to work with the great lady of comedy came true, and I didn’t even have to go through Vicki Lawrence. I was in my trailer, having just arrived for my first day on the movie, when I heard an exuberant, “Jane?” and up the steps bounded Carol Burnett. She greeted me with a hug and I thought my heart would burst. She is one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met, and we had a great time getting to know each other. No one tells a story like Carol, and because of my childhood fascination with The Carol Burnett Show, I couldn’t have been a more willing ear. And in the male-dominated world of television, she was a true pioneer; no woman in television since Lucille Ball had been as powerful. I ate it all up, and she took great delight in reliving those heavenly days with me. By the end of that shoot, I barely had to cue her for a good anecdote. I did, however, have to occasionally step outside of myself to remark, I’m hanging with Carol Burnett.
I’m also proud to say I made Carol Burnett laugh. It was in between takes, and we were all sitting in the car in which the scene was set. I was in the driver’s seat, and Carol was in the backseat. Killing time,
I said, “Carol, look at my backing-up face.” Pretending to put the car in reverse, straining to see what was behind me, I looked over my shoulder with the most ridiculous and horrific face I could make. She howled with laughter.
Now I would have the chance to work with her again, as Sue Sylvester. She had signed on to play my mother, who was a Nazi hunter. We both had to wait awhile to find out what the story would be.
If you look at the staff of most TV shows, you will find anywhere from ten to twenty writers. On Glee, we have three—Brad Falchuk, Ian, and Ryan—making the task of getting each hour-long episode written on time a herculean one. It also means that the scripts sometimes arrive the night before the scene is shot. Brad has said that the three of them together make one very good writer. I’ve figured out that if you laughed at something, Ian wrote it; if you cried at something, Brad wrote it; and if you said “What the —— was that?” Ryan wrote it. Judging by the Nazi hunter business, Carol would be in an episode featuring Ryan’s touch.
Mother and daughter. Carol Burnett and I sing “Ohio.”
Photo courtesy of FOX.