"My new colleague, Andreas Katsulas, the actor whom I could have met years ago in Paris but didn’t (I lived in Paris on a theater grant while he was there working with my idol, Peter Brook), impresses me deeply on the first day I meet him. His whole face AND body are covered by make-up.
He sees me one day on the set, as I’m sulking over my sad destiny. He sits down by me, in front of the sound stage, in the blistering August heat, lights up a cigarette and puts it into his mouth, the only part of his face not covered with latex (he’s undoubtedly braver and more committed than me, having let “Them” put black lenses into his eyes). “Just remember: all acting started with masks,” says Andreas. “Try to find freedom within the new frame. Try to think of the restriction as liberation.” Watching him work, I clearly understand what he means. I’ve never met an actor with such unlimited freedom.
And what else is the ultimate goal of every actor, of every artist in fact, but achieving freedom? In his work? In her life? Not only is my vanity and my whole sense of identity (as a woman, as an actor, as a human being) shaken on every level; I’m also dripping with sweat under the unforgiving California sun. Waiting for my shot, I pant and whine to whoever wants to listen. I notice: Andreas never, ever complains. “Think of the old country,” he advises me. “Think of all those old ladies back home (he himself is of Greek origin, so we are neighbors in a way and we like it), those women covered from head to toe in heavy black cloth. It’s a simple technique: you sweat and let that sweat cool you down. Try it.” Ah, Andreas. Could there have been a better role model for me? I became and still am his humble student."
- Mira Furlan, Love Me More Than Anything In the World
