MCN Voices: Andrea Gronvall

In a town whose industry is the constant selection, transformation and refining of talented individuals into objects of adoration, the biggest paradox is how easy it is to fall so quickly from those heights.

Actresses do this on a regular basis merely by turning 40.

The Showtime documentary Searching for Debra Winger spotlights an impressive group of women determined to ride it through. Individually, their stories are funny, harrowing, and poignant; as woven together by director and narrator Rosanna Arquette, they provide more uplift than an underwire by Olga.

Shot in 2001 at a turning point in Arquette's life, the film features a bunch of actresses so diverse, their roster could spark some intriguing notions of future casting. The actresses are such engaging raconteurs you know that some of them one day will wind up spinning tales from vantage points behind the cameras.

Arquette launches the film with a memory of The Red Shoes, the first movie she ever saw. The Technicolor image of the ballerina who self-destructs because she can't balance the spheres of work and love is one Rosanna claims has haunted her since--even more so now that she's reached her forties and lost both her parents.

Robin Wright Penn is next, as Arquette's example of someone who can have both love and work. Like Meg Ryan, another career mom, Penn reveals her compromise with motherhood is that she now does only one film a year. Her honesty is endearing when she foresees there'll come a time she'll miss all those parts that went to other actresses unencumbered by family commitments.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the movie star who takes the rap for being an absentee parent when her career went into hyperdrive. Whoopi Goldberg's admissions are candid, sharp and unapologetic, as when she describes her early roller-coaster fame: "You want to stop the cycle. But I don't know if you can. Some cycles can't be stopped. But could I have done it a lot differently? Yes, I could have. Would I? No. No."

Goldberg and Arquette also have the most searingly funny exchange in the film:

GOLDBERG: They want you to think that you're done. But who are they? Like, they don't last that long. That's the first thing.

ARQUETTE: The "theys." The "theys" are there to head the studio for six months.

GOLDBERG: The "theys" are there until some shit goes down, and then they're gone. Then some new "theys" come in. So longevity is everything. We have outlasted most of the people who used to hire us.

When the champagne starts flowing at the odd groupings of actresses around tables in chic restaurants, the gals kick back, attacking their plates and the business with equal relish. One such soiree is attended by Martha Plimpton, Ally Sheedy and Adrienne Shelly. Lamenting the dumbing down of women's roles, Plimpton asks, "Humor, intelligence, talent, imagination, bravery, skill--when you eliminate all of these things, what have you got?" "F-kability," answers Sheedy, not one to mince words. And then they're on to recalling the time Shelly didn't get a job because her breasts were deemed "not sassy" enough (as if).

At another dinner party with Rosanna's sister Patricia Arquette, Daryl Hannah, Melanie Griffith, Kelly Lynch, Samantha Mathis and Julianna Margulies dish on topics ranging from the inanities of costuming decisions (baggy clothes to play a mother of teens, even if you've got bodies like Hannah and Lynch), to the social skills sets of nerds who grow up to be studio execs.

This is what women in Hollywood need. Forget support groups; a talk show with just actresses who swap war stories would be hilarious therapy for stars and viewers alike. Sounds like something Rosanna's mentor, uber-producer Lynda Obst, could orchestrate in a heartbeat. "Recovery from Hollywood?" Now there's a concept.

When Arquette finally does catch up with Debra Winger, she looks regal and poised, at home in her skin and the life choices she has made. Her main reason for taking a hiatus from the industry? "Show business just made me rough and hard," she says. "You've got to live your life; you can't search, search, search all the time for the role, the part."

The film feels a little dated, but only because many of the actresses involved have done just what Winger advises -- i.e., they have lived their lives. The then-single Diane Lane is now engaged; the then-married Sharon Stone is now in divorce court. Samantha Mathis and her dinner dates praise Charlotte Rampling for her brave work in Under the Sand, but she has since topped herself with Swimming Pool. And, sadly, the ebullient Katrin Cartlidge, was to die tragically not long afterwards being interviewed for this doc. And, of course, the most obvious postscript; Debra Winger went on to make three films. Big Bad Love came out last year and still in the distribution pipeline are Sony's Radio, due in November, and Artisan's Eulogy, set for a March 2004 release.

Hopefully, as Frances McDormand theorizes (when cornered in a ladies' room), in ten years' time they'll be writing parts for 54-year-olds, and she and good bud Holly Hunter will corner the market. In the meantime, thanks to the generosity and craftsmanship of Rosanna Arquette, we have as consolation this thoughtful and buoyant excursion. Searching for Debra Winger is a lot better than chocolate, and far less expensive than a shrink.

Searching For Debra Winger runs again on the Showtime cable network on Saturday, August 23 and Wednesday, August 27.