Glenn Close: The Life Story Behind Hollywood's Fiercest Actress

Greenwich, the Congo and a Childhood in Moral Re-Armament

Glenn Close was born on 19 March 1947 in Greenwich, Connecticut, to William Taliaferro Close, a surgeon, and Bettine Moore Close, and she was raised in a wealthy, well-connected family, with a father who worked as a doctor in the Belgian Congo, now the Democratic Republic of Congo, and a mother who was a socialite, and her early childhood was spent partly in Africa, where her father ran a clinic, and partly in Connecticut, a split that gave her a sense of the world that was broader than most American children of her era. When she was seven her family joined Moral Re-Armament, a religious and political movement that has been described as cult-like, and she spent much of her childhood and adolescence living in the group’s communes, in Switzerland, in Belgium and in the Congo, with a life that was communal, strict and isolated from the outside world, an experience she has described as damaging, saying that it left her without a sense of her own identity, and that it took her years to recover from, a fact that she has spoken about with unusual candour, and that helps explain the intensity, the discipline and the darkness that she brings to her performances.

She left the movement at twenty-two, when she enrolled at the College of William & Mary in Virginia, where she studied theatre and anthropology, and where she discovered acting, performing in student productions and finding, for the first time, a place where she could be herself, and she graduated in 1974, with a degree in theatre, and moved to New York, where she began working on stage, in small theatres, learning the craft of acting, and building a reputation as a serious, dedicated performer. The William & Mary years were a liberation, a time when she could think for herself, choose her own friends, and discover who she was, after a childhood in which those choices had been made for her, and the theatre, which gave her roles to play, characters to inhabit, and a community that accepted her, became a home, a place where she belonged, in a way that the Moral Re-Armament communes had never been.

The childhood in the Congo and in the communes gave her a particular perspective: she had seen poverty, she had seen illness, she had seen a world that was very different from Greenwich, Connecticut, and that experience, of living in Africa, of being part of a movement that demanded obedience, taught her about power, about control, about the way people submit to authority, and those lessons, which she has described as painful, are audible in her performances, in the way she plays powerful women, in the way she understands manipulation, and in the way she can be both vulnerable and terrifying, often in the same scene. She has also spoken about the experience as one that made her an actor, because it taught her to observe, to listen, to understand people, and to become someone else, a skill that she learned as a child, when she had to adapt to new places, new languages, new rules, and that adaptation, which was a survival mechanism, became an art.

William & Mary, Broadway and the Stage Years

She made her Broadway debut in 1974, in the play Love for Love, and she spent the next decade working on stage, in New York and in regional theatre, building a reputation as a versatile, committed actor, with roles in plays like The Crucifer of Blood in 1978, for which she was nominated for a Tony Award, and Barnum in 1980, and she won her first Tony Award in 1983, for the play The Real Thing, by Tom Stoppard, a romantic drama in which she played Annie, a role that required a performance of great intelligence, great wit and great emotional depth, and the award, which was a recognition of her stage work, established her as one of the leading actresses of her generation, with a career that was built on the theatre, not on film, and that foundation, which is classical, disciplined and text-based, is the reason her film performances have a precision, a clarity and a power that few film actors possess.

Her second Tony Award came in 1992, for Death and the Maiden, Ariel Dorfman’s play about a woman who confronts her torturer, a role that required a performance of great intensity, great anger and great vulnerability, and the award confirmed her as a stage actor of the first rank, with a range that went from comedy to drama to musical theatre, and the play’s success, which was both critical and commercial, showed that she could carry a difficult, political play, and make it accessible, and that is a skill that few actors possess. The theatre years, which lasted from 1974 to the present, with returns to Broadway throughout her career, are the foundation of everything she has done, and she has always returned to the stage, even after film stardom, because the stage is where she learned her craft, and where she feels most at home.

The stage also taught her discipline, the discipline of performing the same play eight times a week, of finding something new in a role each night, of working with a company, of trusting a director, and those lessons, which she learned on Broadway, are the reason her film performances are so consistent, so reliable, so powerful, because she approaches a film role with the same preparation, the same rigour, as a stage role, and that rigour, which is visible in every performance, from The World According to Garp to The Wife, is the mark of a theatre actor, one who understands that acting is a craft, not just a talent, and that the craft must be practised, every day, for a lifetime.

The World According to Garp and the Film Debut

Her film debut came in 1982, in The World According to Garp, directed by George Roy Hill and based on John Irving’s novel, in which she played Jenny Fields, the feminist mother of the title character, played by Robin Williams, a role that required a performance of great warmth, great strength and great humour, and that earned her an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress, her first, a remarkable achievement for a first film, and the film, which was a critical success, established her as a film actor of serious ability, not just a stage actor who had made a lucky break. She followed it with The Big Chill in 1983, an ensemble drama about a group of college friends reuniting after a suicide, in which she played Sarah, a role that was quiet, observant and moving, and that earned her a second Oscar nomination, and The Natural in 1984, a baseball drama starring Robert Redford, in which she played Iris, a role that earned her a third Oscar nomination, three nominations in three years, a run that made her one of the most acclaimed young film actresses in Hollywood, with a reputation for intelligence, for versatility and for a screen presence that was both warm and formidable.

The early film years were a period of intense work, with roles in films like The Stone Boy, Jagged Edge and Maxie, each of which showed a different facet of her talent, from drama to thriller to comedy, and she became known as an actor who could do anything, who could play a mother, a lawyer, a lover, a villain, and who could do it with a precision that made each role feel real, and that versatility, which was built on her stage training, made her a sought-after performer, and she worked with directors like Lawrence Kasdan and Barry Levinson, and each collaboration taught her something new about film acting, about the camera, about the difference between stage and screen, and those lessons, which she learned quickly, made her a film star within a few years of her debut.

The three consecutive Oscar nominations, from 1982 to 1984, were a record, and they established her as a major talent, but they also created a pressure, an expectation that she would win, an expectation that would follow her for the next forty years, as she accumulated nominations without a win, a fact that has become a central part of her story, and that she has discussed with a mixture of humour, frustration and grace, saying that the nominations are an honour, and that the work is what matters, a sentiment that is both true and, given the record, a little sad, because an actor of her talent deserves the recognition, and the fact that she has not received it is a reflection of the Academy’s tastes, not of her ability.

Fatal Attraction, Dangerous Liaisons and the Late-80s Peak

Fatal Attraction, released in 1987, was the film that made Glenn Close a star, and it was a role that was controversial, frightening and unforgettable: Alex Forrest, a book editor who has a weekend affair with a married lawyer, played by Michael Douglas, and who becomes obsessed, stalking him, threatening his family, and boiling his daughter’s pet rabbit, a performance that was intense, terrifying and, in Close’s own view, misunderstood, because she played Alex as a mentally ill woman, not as a villain, and the film’s success, which was enormous, with audiences flocking to see it, made her a household name, and earned her an Oscar nomination for Best Actress, her fourth, and the role, which is still discussed, still parodied, still feared, is one of the most famous in 1980s cinema, a performance that defined a decade’s anxiety about infidelity, about single women, about obsession, and that Close has spent years explaining, saying that Alex was a victim, not a monster, and that the film’s ending, in which she is killed, was a betrayal of the character, a view that has gained support in recent years, as audiences have reassessed the film.

Dangerous Liaisons, released in 1988, was her next film, and it was a different kind of role: the Marquise de Merteuil, a scheming aristocrat in eighteenth-century France, who manipulates lovers, who plots revenge, and who is, in Close’s performance, intelligent, witty, cruel and, ultimately, tragic, a performance that earned her another Oscar nomination for Best Actress, her fifth, and that is regarded as one of the great screen performances of its era, with a precision, a control and a malice that is chilling, and the film, which was directed by Stephen Frears and based on the novel by Choderlos de Laclos, was a critical success, winning Academy Awards for its screenplay, its costumes and its art direction, and Close’s performance, which was the centre of it, was praised as a masterclass in acting, in how to play a villain without making her a caricature, and how to make an audience understand, even sympathise with, a character who does terrible things.

The late 1980s were the peak of her film career, with two Best Actress nominations in two years, with a fame that was global, and with a reputation as one of the finest actors of her generation, and the roles she chose, Alex Forrest and the Marquise, were both powerful, complex women, roles that few actresses were offered, and that she played with a fearlessness that became her trademark, a willingness to be unlikeable, to be frightening, to be difficult, and that willingness, which is rare, is the reason her performances are so memorable, because she does not try to make her characters lovable, she tries to make them true, and the truth, in her hands, is often uncomfortable, and always compelling.

Sunset Boulevard, Cruella and the 1990s

Sunset Boulevard, the musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber, premiered on Broadway in 1994, with Glenn Close playing Norma Desmond, a faded silent film star who lives in a mansion in Los Angeles, dreaming of a comeback, and the role, which had been played by Gloria Swanson in the 1950 film, was a perfect fit for Close, who brought to it a grandeur, a madness and a vulnerability that made it her own, and she won the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical, her third Tony, and the production, which was a large-scale, expensive show, was a commercial success, running for two years, and it established her as a musical theatre star, with a singing voice that was strong, expressive and well suited to Lloyd Webber’s score, and she has returned to the role several times, including a revival in London in 2016 and on Broadway in 2017, each time to critical acclaim, and the role, which she has described as one of her favourites, is now indelibly associated with her, a performance that will be remembered as one of the greats of musical theatre.

101 Dalmatians, released in 1996, was a different kind of role: Cruella de Vil, the villain who wants to make a coat from Dalmatian puppies, a character that Close played with a camp, gleeful wickedness, with a wardrobe that was outrageous, with a performance that was funny, frightening and completely over the top, and the film, which was a commercial success, introduced her to a new, younger audience, who knew her first as Cruella, not as Alex Forrest, and the role, which she reprised in the sequel 102 Dalmatians in 2000, became one of her most beloved, a performance that is still quoted, still imitated, and still celebrated, and that showed a side of her, a comic, playful side, that her dramatic roles had hidden, and that is a reminder of her range, which goes from tragedy to farce, without missing a beat.

Air Force One, released in 1997, was another hit, with Close playing the Vice President of the United States, Kathryn Bennett, a role that was authoritative, calm and commanding, and that showed a different kind of power, a political power, and the film, which starred Harrison Ford as the President, was a commercial success, and Close’s performance, which was restrained and dignified, was praised as a realistic portrayal of a woman in power, a rarity in Hollywood at the time, and the 1990s, which included these three very different roles, Norma Desmond, Cruella de Vil and the Vice President, showed a versatility that few actors possess, a ability to move between musical theatre, children’s film and action thriller, and to be convincing in each, and that versatility is the hallmark of her career.

Damages, Television and the Patty Hewes Years

Damages, a television legal thriller that ran on FX and then on DirecTV from 2007 to 2012, was a new chapter, with Close playing Patty Hewes, a ruthless, brilliant, manipulative lawyer, a role that was written for her, and that earned her two Emmy Awards for Best Actress in a Drama Series, in 2008 and 2009, and a Golden Globe, and the show, which was a complex, serialized drama about law, power and corruption, was praised by critics as one of the best television series of its era, and Close’s performance, which was the centre of it, was a masterclass in television acting, in how to sustain a character over five seasons, how to reveal new layers, how to be both sympathetic and terrifying, and the role, which she has described as one of her favourites, gave her a new audience, one that watched television, not film, and that discovered her as a television star, at sixty, after a career in film and theatre.

The show’s success was built on Close’s performance, on the writing, which was intelligent and twist-filled, and on the supporting cast, which included Rose Byrne as Ellen Parsons, a young lawyer who becomes Patty’s protégée and adversary, and the relationship between the two women, which was the heart of the show, was a study in mentorship, in power, in betrayal, and Close played it with a subtlety that made Patty both a monster and a human being, a woman who had sacrificed everything for her career, and who was, in the end, alone, and that complexity, which is rare on television, is the reason the show is still discussed, still studied, and still regarded as a high point of the golden age of television drama. She also appeared in other television series, including The Shield, in which she played Captain Monica Rawling, and in films like Albert Nobbs in 2011, a film she co-wrote and produced, in which she played a woman passing as a man in nineteenth-century Dublin, a role that earned her an Oscar nomination for Best Actress, her sixth, and a Golden Globe nomination, and that showed her commitment to difficult, unusual projects, ones that other stars would not touch.

The television years also saw her become an advocate for mental health, founding the organisation Bring Change to Mind in 2010, after her sister, Jessie, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and her nephew, Calen, with schizoaffective disorder, a cause that is personal to her, and that she has spoken about with honesty, describing the stigma, the shame and the silence that surround mental illness, and the need to talk about it openly, and the organisation, which works to end the stigma, has become a significant part of her life, with campaigns, with school programmes, and with a public profile that has helped many families, and that advocacy, which she has described as one of the most important things she has done, is a legacy that goes beyond acting, and that reflects her own family’s experience, and her belief that fame should be used for something beyond itself.

The Wife, Hillbilly Elegy and the Oscar Record

The Wife, released in 2017, was the film that brought Glenn Close her seventh Oscar nomination, and her closest to a win: she played Joan Castleman, the wife of a Nobel Prize-winning novelist, played by Jonathan Pryce, who has ghostwritten his books for forty years, and who, on the trip to Stockholm to collect the prize, decides to leave him, a role that required a performance of great restraint, great dignity and great power, with Close conveying, through silence, through a look, through a small gesture, a lifetime of sacrifice, of resentment and of love, and the performance, which won her the Golden Globe for Best Actress, the Screen Actors Guild Award, and the Critics’ Choice Award, was widely tipped to win the Oscar, and when the award went to Olivia Colman for The Favourite, the loss, which was Close’s seventh, was treated as a snub, a disappointment, and a reflection of the Academy’s failure to recognise one of the greatest actors of her generation, a view that Close herself has handled with grace, saying that the work is what matters, and that the nominations are an honour, although the disappointment, which was visible, was understandable, given the quality of the performance.

Hillbilly Elegy, released in 2020, was her eighth Oscar nomination, for Best Supporting Actress, for her role as Mamaw, the grandmother of the author J.D. Vance, a tough, foul-mouthed, loving matriarch, a performance that was praised by some and criticised by others, with the film itself receiving mixed reviews, and the nomination, which came in the same year that she was also nominated for a Razzie Award for Worst Supporting Actress for the same role, a unique double, made headlines, and Close has spoken about it with humour, saying that the two nominations, one for the best and one for the worst, cancel each other out, and that the experience was a reminder that acting is subjective, and that a performance that one person loves, another may hate, and that is the nature of the work. She also appeared in the film’s cast, which included Amy Adams, and the role, which required her to age, to speak in an accent, and to play a character who was both tough and tender, showed a willingness to take risks, even at seventy-three, and that willingness is the hallmark of her career.

She has also appeared in Guardians of the Galaxy in 2014, as Nova Prime, the leader of the Nova Corps, a role that introduced her to a new, younger audience, and in the film’s sequel, and in other films, including The Great Gilly Hopkins, Father Figures and Swan Song in 2021, a science fiction drama in which she played a supporting role, and she continues to work, in film, in television and on stage, with a schedule that is as busy as it was in her thirties, and with a reputation that is secure, as one of the finest actors of her generation, with eight Oscar nominations, three Tony Awards, three Emmy Awards and three Golden Globes, a set of honours that, even without an Oscar win, places her among the most decorated performers in history, and that suggests her legacy is secure, regardless of the Academy’s decisions.

Her recent film work has shown the same range: she appeared in The Deliverance in 2024, a horror film directed by Lee Daniels, playing Alberta, a character who is tough, funny, and, above all, real, and in Back in Action in 2025, a Netflix action-comedy starring Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx, playing Ginny, a role that was comic, and that introduced her to a new, younger audience, and in Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery in 2025, Rian Johnson’s third Benoit Blanc film, a role that placed her in an ensemble of stars, and that showed, at seventy-eight, that she was still, in every sense, a working actor, one who could do horror, comedy, and mystery, all in the same year, and that is a rare achievement, and a testament to her talent, her work ethic, and her audience, which is loyal, global, and, above all, patient, and that is a legacy that will last, long after the last note has faded, because a career built on work, on talent, and on range, is a career that lasts, and Glenn Close, who has been working for fifty years, is a proof of that, and that is a story that is, by any measure, remarkable.

My Take:

When I think about Glenn Close, the first thing that comes to mind is the eyes, because her performances are built on a look, a stare, a gaze that can be warm, cold, loving, terrifying, often in the same scene, and that gaze is the reason she is so compelling on screen, because the camera loves a face that can tell a story without words, and Close’s face, which is expressive, intelligent and, above all, honest, does exactly that. The Wife is the best example, a film in which she says very little, but conveys, through a look, a lifetime of sacrifice, of resentment, of love, and that performance, which won her the Golden Globe and which should have won her the Oscar, is a masterclass in screen acting, in how to do more with less, and I think it will be remembered as one of the great performances of its era, even without the award, because the work is what matters, and the work is extraordinary.

Fatal Attraction is the film that made her a star, and I think it is worth reassessing, because the role, Alex Forrest, has been treated as a villain for thirty-five years, when Close herself has always said that Alex was a mentally ill woman, not a monster, and that the film’s ending, in which she is killed, was a betrayal of the character, a view that has gained support in recent years, as audiences have become more aware of mental health, and more sympathetic to characters who are struggling. The performance itself is intense, frightening and, in Close’s hands, human, because she plays Alex as a person, not as a caricature, with a vulnerability that makes her sympathetic, even when she is doing terrible things, and that humanity, which is the opposite of a villain, is the reason the performance is still discussed, still feared, still remembered, and I think the film’s reputation, which is as a thriller, undersells the acting, which is a tragedy, a story of a woman who is ill, who is alone, and who is punished for it.

Dangerous Liaisons is the performance I would show to anyone who wants to understand Glenn Close as a stage actor on film, because the Marquise de Merteuil is a role that requires precision, control, wit and malice, and Close plays it with a mastery that is chilling, with every line delivered as if it were a weapon, with every look calculated, and with a final scene, in which the Marquise is exposed, her face covered in makeup, that is one of the most powerful in 1980s cinema. The film, which is based on a novel, on a play, on a history, is a perfect vehicle for her, because it is about language, about manipulation, about power, and Close, who learned her craft on Broadway, understands language, understands power, and understands how to play a character who is both brilliant and cruel, and the performance, which earned her an Oscar nomination, is a reminder that she is, first and last, a theatre actor, and that the theatre is where her talent was formed.

The Oscar record, eight nominations without a win, is the fact that I think about most, because it is both a tribute and an indictment: a tribute, because eight nominations is a remarkable achievement, a sign of a career that has been consistently excellent, and an indictment, because an actor of Close’s talent, with performances like The Wife, like Dangerous Liaisons, like Fatal Attraction, deserves to have won, and the fact that she has not is a reflection of the Academy’s tastes, of its preference for certain kinds of roles, and of its failure to recognise a performer who does not fit its mould. I think the record will be remembered, not as a failure, but as a proof of her consistency, and I think history will judge her more kindly than the Academy has, because the performances are there, on film, for anyone to see, and they are extraordinary, with or without a statuette.

Sunset Boulevard is the role I admire most, because it is a musical theatre performance, a role that requires singing, acting, dancing, and a presence that can fill a theatre, and Close, who played Norma Desmond on Broadway in 1994, in London in 2016, and on Broadway again in 2017, made the role her own, with a grandeur, a madness and a vulnerability that is unforgettable, and the Tony Award she won for it, her third, was deserved, and the revivals, which were praised by critics, showed that she could still, at seventy, play a role that demands everything, and that she could do it better than anyone else. I think Norma Desmond is the perfect role for her, because it is about a woman who was once famous, who is now forgotten, and who dreams of a comeback, and that story, which is about fame, about age, about the cruelty of Hollywood, is one that Close understands, as an actor who has been famous, who has been overlooked, and who has kept working, and the performance, which is both grand and intimate, is a testament to her talent.

Damages is the television performance I return to most, because Patty Hewes is a character who is ruthless, brilliant, manipulative, and, in Close’s hands, human, a woman who has sacrificed everything for her career, and who is, in the end, alone, and the show, which ran for five seasons, gave her the time to develop the character, to reveal new layers, to show a vulnerability that a film, with its two hours, cannot, and the two Emmy Awards she won for the role were deserved, and the show, which is still regarded as one of the best television dramas of its era, is a reminder that Close is as good on the small screen as she is on the big one, and that her talent is not limited to a single medium, but is adaptable, versatile, and enduring.

Her advocacy for mental health, through Bring Change to Mind, is the achievement I respect most outside acting, because it is a cause that is personal to her, her sister Jessie has bipolar disorder, her nephew Calen has schizoaffective disorder, and she has used her fame to talk about stigma, about shame, about the silence that surrounds mental illness, and to work for change, with campaigns, with school programmes, and with a public profile that has helped many families. It is easy for a famous person to start a charity and forget it; Close has not forgotten it, and the organisation’s work, which she talks about with a seriousness that contrasts with her public image as an actor, is a reminder that fame, used well, can do real good, and that her legacy, which includes the acting, also includes this, a contribution to a cause that matters, and that will outlast any single performance.

If a new viewer asked me where to start with Glenn Close, I would begin with The Wife, to see the mature actor at her best, and then I would go to Dangerous Liaisons, to see the villain, and then to Fatal Attraction, to see the star, and then to Sunset Boulevard, to see the musical theatre performer, and those four works, taken together, show the breadth, the drama, the comedy, the music, in a way that no single film can. After that I would watch Damages, to see Patty Hewes, and the journey through those works is the journey of an actor who has done everything, and who has done it on her own terms, and that is a journey worth following.

What Glenn Close has given acting, beyond the performances, is a model of how to be a theatre actor in film, of an artist who brings a stage discipline, a text-based rigour, and a willingness to be unlikeable, to a medium that often rewards the opposite, and that model matters, because the film industry often treats actors as personalities, not as craftspeople, and Close has spent fifty years proving that craft matters, that preparation matters, and that a performance, well made, is enough. I think young actors will look at her career and see a permission slip, a proof that you can be a stage actor, that you can play villains, that you can be difficult, and that you can still have a career, and that is a legacy that goes beyond any single award.

The Moral Re-Armament thread runs through everything she does, and I think it is the most important part of her story, because it is not a marketing detail but a real influence. She grew up in a movement that demanded obedience, that isolated her from the outside world, that left her without a sense of her own identity, and that experience, of being controlled, of being told who to be, is in every performance she has given, from Alex Forrest to the Marquise to Joan Castleman, because she understands what it is to be controlled, to be silenced, to fight for your own voice, and the audience can tell the difference, because the details are specific, the feeling is real, and that is why her work resonates, with people who have never been in a cult, as well as with people who have.

Looking at the whole arc, from a childhood in Moral Re-Armament to Broadway to the Oscars to Damages, I see a career that was built on talent, on discipline and on a refusal to be limited, and I think that refusal is its strength. Glenn Close has been a stage actor, a film star, a television star, a musical theatre performer and an advocate, and each of those roles has left something in the work, a lesson, a skill, a perspective, and the result is an artist who is harder to categorise than almost anyone of her generation. That is not a failure of branding, it is a sign of a person who kept growing, and the audience that has grown with her, from the Broadway theatres to the present, has been rewarded with a career that is honest, varied and unmistakably hers, and I expect the next chapter to be as powerful as the last.

The Deliverance is the recent film I find most interesting, because it is a horror film, directed by Lee Daniels, in which Glenn plays Alberta, a character who is tough, funny, and, above all, real, and the role, which she took at seventy-seven, shows a performer who is still willing to take a risk, to do a genre film, to be part of an ensemble, and that willingness, which is the mark of a great actor, is the reason her career has lasted, when other stars have faded, because she was never just about herself, she was about the work, about the story, about the ensemble, and that is a legacy that goes beyond any single role, and that is as important as any award she has won, because it is about craft, about humility, and about the love of acting itself, and that is a story that is, by any measure, remarkable.

Back in Action is the Netflix film I return to most from her recent work, because it is an action-comedy, starring Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx, in which Glenn plays Ginny, a role that is comic, and that introduced her to a new, younger audience, one that had not seen Fatal Attraction, and that discovered her as a funny, warm, and, above all, real presence, and the film, which was a commercial success, proved that she could still, at seventy-eight, command a screen, even in a genre that is, by any measure, young, and that is a testament to her talent, her work ethic, and her audience, which is loyal, global, and, above all, patient, and that is a legacy that will last, long after the last note has faded, because a career built on work, on talent, and on range, is a career that lasts.

Albert Nobbs is the film I would show to anyone who wants to see Glenn Close as a producer and a writer, because it is a film she co-wrote and produced, in which she plays a woman passing as a man in nineteenth-century Dublin, a role that required a performance of great restraint, great dignity, and great power, and that earned her an Oscar nomination for Best Actress, her sixth, and a Golden Globe nomination, and the film, which was a labour of love, taking years to finance, showed a performer who was willing to fight for a difficult, unusual project, one that other stars would not touch, and that commitment, which is the mark of a real artist, is the reason Albert Nobbs, which is, by any measure, a small film, is also an important one, because it is about identity, about survival, and about the cost of being yourself, in a world that does not allow it, and that is a story that is, by any measure, Glenn’s own, and that is why the performance works, and why it will last.

Frequently Asked Questions

When and where was Glenn Close born?

Glenn Close was born on 19 March 1947 in Greenwich, Connecticut, and she spent much of her childhood in Africa and Europe with the Moral Re-Armament movement, before studying theatre at the College of William & Mary.

How many Academy Award nominations does Glenn Close have?

She has been nominated for eight Academy Awards, including for The World According to Garp, Fatal Attraction, Dangerous Liaisons, Albert Nobbs, The Wife and Hillbilly Elegy, but she has not yet won one.

Which Glenn Close role won her a Tony Award for a musical?

She won the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical for playing Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard, which premiered on Broadway in 1994, and she has returned to the role in London and on Broadway.

Who did Glenn Close play in Fatal Attraction?

She played Alex Forrest, a book editor who becomes obsessed with a married lawyer played by Michael Douglas, in the 1987 film Fatal Attraction, earning an Oscar nomination for Best Actress.

What television role won Glenn Close Emmy Awards?

She played the ruthless lawyer Patty Hewes in the legal thriller Damages, which ran from 2007 to 2012, winning two Emmy Awards for Best Actress in a Drama Series.

What mental health organisation did Glenn Close found?

She founded Bring Change to Mind in 2010 to end the stigma around mental illness, after her sister Jessie was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and her nephew Calen with schizoaffective disorder.