Tony Award-Winner Joanna Gleason Reflects on Human Connections, grief, and forgiveness.

CherryPicks interviewed writer/director Joanna Gleason about her new film, The Grotto, why it’s important to release yourself from expectations, and how the industry has changed for the better to center women’s stories.

CherryPicks: You recently made your feature directorial debut with The Grotto, along with writing the script—what inspired you to do this project and what do you hope viewers take away from the film? 

Joanna Gleason: Having been part of stories large and small on stage and on screen for decades, I found myself yearning to tell stories closer to home, more resonant with my life experiences. I’ve always written, but found myself writing this as a movie—this form was where the story led me. 

All of us have been to a social gathering where the topic of a current film or series comes up, and everyone weighs in with their takeaway. It’s like my 10th grade English class, where we all had to read a poem and give our interpretation. No two answers were exactly the same. What was so heartening to me after the screening of The Grotto at the Heartland International Film Festival was that people came up to me with strong feelings about where they connected most with the story. The answers were diverse and deeply personal. For one young man, it was about healing after the loss of his brother. A woman who was about 50 or 60 years old came up and told me her son was gay. (There are two gay men integral to Alice’s story.) It seemed hard for her to say—not hard, but delicate. Her adult daughter was with her. She continued, “But now he is engaged to a very nice young man…” She paused, and her eyes filled with tears. “Your characters are people we know. These are people we know.” I was so moved by that, how we demonize the “other” until we actually spend time with them. In life and on screen.

The Grotto follows Alice (Betsy Brandt) on an emotional journey after losing her fiancé and discovering she’s now part owner of a nightclub after his passing. What part of Alice’s journey do you relate to most on a personal level? Has making this film helped you to heal or restore your faith in anything personally?

JG: As soon as Alice’s fiancé dies, everything unravels. I found myself in a version of that in my 40s: end of a marriage, a personal betrayal, loss of a home, end of a job (all jobs end for actors…). Shaky ground on every level. I had nothing to turn to for balance, for stability. Great family and friends, but nothing to hang onto when I was alone. No faith. At that moment, I had no perspective on my life. Was I meant to be always on the move? Job to job? Relationship to relationship? Was I afraid to put down roots? Why did I always feel on edge? Was I running because I was afraid? What I learned, and what Alice learns, is that I was afraid because I was running all the time. There was no constant, no North Star.

The film explores the power of faith, love, and human connection—where did you pull inspiration from when creating your characters and storylines?

JG: It was the belief others had in me, their sharing with me who and what they saw and responded to in me that began my ascent from darkness. Those closest to me recounted how my faith in them was a gift. They opened my eyes and my protected heart. Human connection, love, generosity—these and small everyday gestures of kindness are like solid floorboards. Every character in The Grotto touches Alice in some way, through a word or a gesture. Her darkness begins to lift. She is “seen” in a way she had heretofore never known. She becomes the central character in her own story, not just a “temp” in everyone else’s.

You’ve had such an impressive career as an actor and singer, now adding writer/director to your resume—what are some of the biggest changes you've seen in the industry over the course of your career? 

JG: I’ve seen talented women move into positions of power behind the camera. It has been happening, quietly at first, decades ago, now becoming less of an "event" and more part of an inclusive industry. Stories about women have gained traction, illuminating more about life and all the people in it. We’ve also entered the digital age, and movies are now shot more economically, the editing process is streamlined, and students and aspiring filmmakers can experiment with their cameras (their phones) to get a sense of how to frame a story.

What are some changes that you’d still like to see when it comes to representation and women’s roles in front of and behind the camera?

JG: Advocating for more representation is key, and it’s happening. No two women’s stories are exactly the same, like fingerprints, but we share so much common ground. Many stories, such as The Grotto, are not “ripped from the headlines,” but this movie is ripped from my headlines, and women have responded. The lane is still wide open for quieter stories of everyday women. More than ever, stories are being told through the female lens. To my delight, the women (and men) who have reached out to me since the festival have had similar responses to the film. They also loved that there was humor and music, two key components of my healing.

How has your work on Broadway helped shape your directing style? In your experience, how does preparing for a role on Broadway differ from preparing for an on-camera role?

JG: I have been so lucky. I have worked with many of the greatest writers and directors: Mike Nichols, James Lapine, Stephen Sondheim, Paul Thomas Anderson, Aaron Sorkin, Arthur Laurents, to name a few. And I watched them like a hawk. The way they shaped a script during rehearsals and the way they gave notes resulted in everyone wanting to bring their best. Many merely created the safest environment so we could fail and excitedly want to get up and try again. I love actors. I have always found that an environment that fosters collaboration is the key. The preparation for a Broadway show is different from that of an on-screen role in that, for the theater, you need to prepare to do the show eight times a week. Your daily life is centered around the evening’s show, with two shows on Wednesdays and Saturdays. This means conserving strength, avoiding illness, eating right, sleeping more, warming up, cooling down…it’s an athletic event. When I was starting out in New York, I could go out for a burger and a glass of wine after the show, sit in a loud restaurant and shout to be heard. Now? No wine, no going out after, and no sitting by the air conditioning unit!

You’ve played so many incredible characters over the years, both on stage and on the big and small screens. Which character did you relate to most on a personal level and why?

JG: I have related to all the characters I have played; yes, even the vicious harridan of a mother in Boogie Nights. What, you don’t think a mother could feel rage like that? I assured my own son that it was not how I felt, but understood it. In The Skeleton Twins, I played the mother of twins Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader. This was a mother with no malice, nor was she a nurturer. She was self-involved and faux-spiritual, and the lasting harm done to her kids was evident in just two scenes. Then, of course there was “The Baker’s Wife” in Into The Woods on Broadway—a joy from start to finish. The whole piece resonated for me: yearning for family, mistrust of neighbors, a need for unity to fight a common enemy, how we choose to pass on to the next generation either the notion of selflessness or of selfishness.

What would your advice be to anyone trying to break into the industry or looking to change career paths?

JG: You forge a path by putting one foot in front of the other, by starting with small steps. Careers take time. You can’t see them by looking ahead, only in the rearview mirror. I have put fifty years into my career, taking many different roads I could not have foreseen traveling when I was a young aspiring actor. Writing, directing, doing a solo show, making movies, teaching. If you think you have one big idea and aren’t willing to get off the speedway to take what feels like detours, you miss all the good scenery. Best advice: release yourself from expectations, make plans, plan to take care of your body, plan to protect your instrument, plan to keep in touch with friends and family. Plan to see theater, observe people on the street, do favors for friends in need. Think of times when you’re not “living your dream” as the rest of your life, not as “down time,” as that’s not fair and not a good floorboard. But don’t expect it all to be just as you want it. I have never prayed for a job I auditioned for—you have a 50/50 chance of getting it; either you will, or you won’t. If I didn’t get it, what does that say about where I put my faith? I only pray the right things happen. Even if it doesn’t seem so in the moment.

What are some things you do to practice self-care? 

JG: Self-care must include laughter: the laughter of recognition, the laughter of joy, the laughter of “oh, we have to laugh to keep from screaming,” and the laughter of delight in nine grandkids…each a character right out of characters-ville. That’s a line from some great movie. Also do brain games and puzzles and exercise. And cook for friends. Often. 

Most recent TV series or movie that you watched?

JG: The series Station Eleven knocked me out, what it said about civilization’s ability to reconcile and heal from horrific events with community and art. Also, Giri/Haji is another beautiful series. But recently, and for the 100th time, I watched the classic film The Song of Bernadette. It is so beautifully shot and directed, and Jennifer Jones is stunning—it’s a major reference in The Grotto. I’ve also been rewatching favorites: Cinema Paradiso and Babette’s Feast. All about bringing together diverse people through artistry. Ooh, and Severance is fantastic.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

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