I'll Scream Later (No Series) (32 page)

Joe leans over to Jeff and says, “Really sorry, I just got a phone call from the head honchos at Hallmark, and they really think you should be signing in court.”

I’m watching all this in the mirror, and you should have seen Jeff’s face! He just exploded: “No way! You’re kidding me! That’s insane. How can I possibly learn this script in three hours…” All of this laced with more four-letter words than I’d heard Jeff use during the entire production.

I was in tears.

Just then Jeff caught sight of me in the mirror, laughing my head off, and it clicked. “Payback is a bitch, Marlee.”

“Oooh, I’m scared of you.”

It was really just too funny. But for the next two days, every time we saw each other, I was just waiting, trying to figure out what he could possibly do. Time was running out and I started to think I was safe: I’d escaped!

The next day, Connie, who was interpreting for me, and I rode to work together. As we got to the set, everybody was acting really strange. I looked over and my trailer’s gone.

I mean gone. A big honking trailer and it has disappeared.

In its place was a makeshift tent that looked as if it’d been grabbed from under a freeway.

When I walked in, the shower was a fake hose, a toilet was just sitting there, and some really horrific dress from wardrobe was hanging on a wire. An ice chest held my drinks, and a cardboard sign had a big star drawn on it and said
MARLEE MATLIN TRAILER
.

All I can say is, Jeff Daniels is the king of payback!

T
HERE ARE SHIMMIES
, shakes, swings, and spins. There is hip action and whip action. There are spiral turns, cross turns, pencil turns. There are the heels to balance on, get blisters in. There are the skintight barely-theres with enough sequins sewed on to blind you—so, so tight they require another shimmy and shake to get into and out of.

There is, of course, the chance to take home the coveted mirror-ball trophy and the
Dancing with the Stars
title.

But what really hooked me on joining the cast of
Dancing with the Stars
when I was asked—my kids.

Only a few things that I can do these days will impress them, particularly my oldest daughter, who was twelve when I did the show—get my hands on tickets to a Jonas Brothers concert and do
Dancing with the Stars
.

Most of the time when I hear a chorus of “Oh, please, Mom” from four angelic, upturned faces, it’s followed by things like “stay up late,” “sleep over at…” “watch television,” “have more candy,” “more cake,” “more popcorn,” “more gum”…

Who knew I could take my forty-two-year-old, yes-I’ve-had-four-kids body—to say nothing of my Deaf ears—and with one little yes be transformed into “the cool mom.”

As soon as I agreed to do the show, I started wondering who my dance partner would be. You really are in the dark until that first day when you walk into the studio and meet the person.

So on February 11, 2008, just about a month before season six of
Dancing with the Stars
would premiere, I walked through the doors to meet Fabian Sanchez, the 2006 Mambo World Champion—tall,
handsome, great smile, warm eyes, and hips that can swivel so fast they make your head spin! It was his first season on the show.

Fabian says, “I had heard that Marlee might be one of the contestants, and when the producers told me that’s who I would be working with, I was excited, I couldn’t wait to meet her.

“When Marlee walked in, she looked so sweet and so nice. I could see she looked a little nervous, but then she was walking into my world. I knew right away, it was going to be a challenge for me. I’d never taught a Deaf person before and I wanted to see what we could create together because I knew all eyes would be on her.”

As far as my eyes went, they were trained on Fabian. If I could see the step, the move, I could start to teach my body how to replicate it.

Fabian made a few adjustments to his teaching style to help us move beyond the fact that I could not hear the music. He used a lot more eye contact. Once I’d learned the mechanics, I was following his eyes and his body. In one of the interviews I did for the show, someone asked me what I heard of the music, and I told them, “Fabian is my music.” That really was true.

A candid moment from behind the scenes at
Dancing with the Stars.
Fabian and I thought it was hilarious that Maksim Chmerovskiy actually believed he could whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

He also quickly shifted the speakers to the floor and turned up the bass, so that I could feel more of the vibrations. Bill Pugin came along as my interpreter, which turned out to be such a lucky break since Bill had done quite a lot of dancing years ago. He knew the language of swivels and pivots, and that helped in translating Fabian’s instructions to me.

The days were long—often twelve hours of dancing straight. By the end of rehearsals, we’d both collapse on the floor. Many days I wasn’t sure I could drag myself back up. Muscles I didn’t even know I had were screaming at me, “Don’t move, please don’t move again.”

Without even noticing, I lost twenty-three pounds before the series ended and gained the most toned body I’ve ever had. Thank you,
Dancing with the Stars.

I’
M USUALLY MY
own worst critic, and on
Dancing with the Stars
I made no exception. Long before we were in front on an audience—or the judges—I felt that I wasn’t picking up the routines quickly enough.

Fabian, who was my ultimate cheerleader, didn’t agree: “When Marlee started out, I remember thinking, for me she is an average student—has good rhythm, is picking up the steps. But all of sudden, everything was coming faster and faster. I could throw new choreography at her and she was retaining it faster, reacting to the music faster.

“You could see her personality go into the dance—the way she would do her mouth, she has this gorgeous smile, when I saw it, I could tell she was comfortable with that movement. And when she puts that smile on, you can’t help but know that girl is having a good time!”

Our first dance when the show kicked off in March was, as Fabian described it, “the red-hot cha-cha-cha baby.” With Fabian, I quickly figured out that everything was
baby.
“No, no, no, baby.” “Like this, not like that, baby.” I got it, baby!

To dance the red-hot cha-cha, I wore a red, sparkly thing with slits here, and more slits there, all designed to enhance the moves
you’re making. Creating the lines of the costumes is equal parts art and science, and the wardrobe team for the series are really geniuses.

Fabian and I were the last couple to hit the dance floor. Performing live is, at least for me, always terrifying. On film sets you have multiple takes to get it right. When it’s live, it’s one shot, then it’s over. You are done, finished, kaput. No second chances.

Since we were the last ones on the floor, my stomach had a lot of time to tie itself up—instead of butterflies, I think I had mad, crazy bats!

My daughter Sarah and my husband, Kevin, were in the audience that night, and as soon as I stepped out onto that stage, I could feel their smiles and good thoughts just wrapping around me.

So Fabian and I cha-cha-cha’d until we were breathless. Even though you rehearse ungodly hours and by the time you start performing your stamina is so much stronger, doing that dance in prime time takes all your energy and breath. It’s like a three-minute extreme workout.

When I finished, the applause was thunderous. I could feel it from my head to my toes—it was just electric in that room. As I looked over at Jack, who was coming to the stage to interpret for me, he was wiping away tears, and that touched me so.

It felt as if Fabian and I had done well, but my heart was pounding as we walked over to the judges’ table. If performing live is terrifying, having to face Len, Carrie Ann, and Bruno is a million times scarier. They started talking, Jack started signing, but it took a second for it to sink in—it was good news.

Carrie Ann: “That was almost unbelievable.”

Bruno: “You may not hear, but the music is running through your blood.”

Of course, once you make it through the dance, the judges, and the scores, then you have to spend the next night standing under the spotlight of death waiting to find out whether you’ll be back for another week or going home.

The first week I made it through! And it was on to the quickstep.

Now the quickstep, in addition to being extremely, well, quick, with lots of changes in the footwork, is also a dance you are to perform with little eye contact. Ack! I need the eye contact! Ack! I need the eye contact!

And the judges’ scores: 8, 8, 8.

Yeah!

Back in the greenroom, Samantha Harris was conducting the postdance interviews. She’s a sweetheart, but she just never got it that putting a microphone in my face doesn’t work.

If you watch
Dancing with the Stars,
you always look for certain moments. One of those is a performance that will bring Carrie Ann to tears. Some people never reach that. I was so happy that I did.

During week four, Fabian and I did the Viennese waltz. I was particularly worried about this dance since it has lots of twirls and being Deaf can play havoc with your balance, I wasn’t sure how well I’d pull it off. Yet I did.

And I got my Carrie Ann moment: “You made me cry, something about that performance truly touched me.”

By week six, I needed a lift. Week five was the samba, and I got really frustrated with myself. I nailed it in dress rehearsal, then missed a step when we went live.

When I’m just being Marlee Matlin the person, you can read my moods pretty easily, and I know the audience and the viewers could just see my energy drop, read the angst in my face. I wanted to go back into the dressing room and beat my head against a wall.

For week six, we got the mambo. Now Fabian is the Mambo King and I didn’t want to let him down. I was already being tough on myself because of what I felt was a less than perfect samba. I needed to get my head out of the bad place.

Calling Henry Winkler! If anyone could shake me out of it, it was Henry.

He stopped by as Fabian and I were rehearsing and gave me a great pep talk to use as part of one segment for the show. But the string of e-mails I got from him through the next days and nights were the best. Not always easy to read—Henry pulls no punches—but exactly what I needed to hear. Here’s a sample of Henry’s tough love:

“Dear Marlee, The audience is with you, but they will start to pick up your sense of doom. You are a very good actress. You are a very good dancer. You have to put the two together and cry only at home unless they are tears of joy….

“No more long faces. Smile. Enjoy. Catch your breath. And be grateful to the Mambo King.

“PS I looked very good in my blue shirt.”

Other e-mails would come, most of them starting with “I had another thought…”

“The distance between the negative and being positive is as thin as a piece of thread.”

“You are a champion. You are a winner in life already. Show THAT to the world.”

“You have to make a decision. A big life decision.”

And then the PS: “PS I think I have to wear that blue shirt more often.”

I tried to drink in all of his advice. I tried to absorb all the amazing love and support that had began pouring in starting in week one from the fans. I tried to lean on the love of my family. But in the end, during the mambo, I lost focus for a second.

In ballroom, just the blink of an eye, just a second of lost concentration, and you can lose a beat—you lose a beat and you lose a bit of movement and it’s extremely hard to recover.

Fabian says, “From the samba, there was a small mistake, but she couldn’t shake it off. I could see it running through her mind: ‘What if I make another mistake?’

“At the beginning of the mambo, she was supposed to turn to face the audience. I went back that night and watched it over again, and as I’m watching it, she stops turning a quarter turn less. As she was turning, Bruno had his hand going up and down, counting the beats, and I’ve seen him do it with other people. That moment, her eye caught his hand going up and down, and she lost the beat.

“She was just heartbroken, she was so down on herself. I was glad we had to go to New York right away for
Regis and Kelly.
They wanted us to do the mambo and she did it perfect! She nailed it. And when we performed it on the finale, she nailed it again!”

As hard as we were all working on our dances each week, you really do grow close to the other contestants. Everyone really does support one another. But the guy who always had my back was that sweetheart Christian de la Fuente. Going into week six, Christian bet me a hundred bucks that I wouldn’t get voted off. He was absolutely sure I’d make it through. Unfortunately he was wrong.

With the verdict rendered, I walked over to stand in front of the judges for the final time. Tom Bergeron, who hosts the series and stitches together so many loose moments with his gentle humor, came over and took my hands.

He has been a friend for many years, and when he told me how proud he was of all that I had done on the show, it was all I could do not to break down in tears.

Even though I didn’t make it all the way to the finals, I look back on it as one of the great experiences of my life. Everywhere I go, even now, I’m swarmed by fans that supported me during the show. I was overwhelmed by the number of e-mails I received from ordinary people telling me how much what I had done had inspired them. Many had stories of how life had dealt them a bad hand, but they’d been afraid to fight back, and now, after watching me, they weren’t.

As an actor, you always want to touch the audience. I just had no idea that I could do it on the dance floor.

Fabian, the fabulous Mambo King, became a great friend, one I know that I will have for a lifetime. We had an absolute blast doing the show, and I’m the luckiest gal on earth to have had Fabian as my partner.

In December, I pulled out my dancing shoes, practiced my moves, and headed out on the
Dancing with the Stars
tour with Fabian, the man who first taught me the groove and move! A cross-country road trip with my dancing buddies, and all my glittery barely-theres to shake and shimmy into…I couldn’t wait.