Quest For Dawn

starbright in a neanderthat epic, rae dawn chong goes native for world famed photographer ernst haas

Fresh from Jean Jacques Annaud's prehistoric drama Quest for Fire, in which she was generally muddy, blue gray, nude and either quick-frozen or deep-fried in varied climes from Canada to Scotland to Kenya, Rae Dawn Chong picked the restaurant for what turned out to be our simple, civilized four-hour brunch. Her choice: a modest café on Cornelia Street in Greenwich Village, not far from the apartment she calls home. She's 21. She's cheeky and charming, the daughter of off-the-wall comedian Tommy Chong (of Cheech), which may suggest a precocious showbiz brat on the go. Not so. Yet you see right away why. (text concluded on page 110)

Variety called Rae Dawn "unaffectedly radiant," while applauding her for "best performance" in a movie that could well make her but definitely won't break her if audiences prove resistant to an Early Primitive adventure tale laced with touches of moon-June romanticism. The blend is often heady, and Rae Dawn helps a lot.

While munching a salad, she used her fork to emphasize enthusiasm for recent movies she had seen--Ragtime, Reds, Pennies from Heaven--as well as movies she had made. Her only previous feature was 1979's Stony Island, an unfairly neglected Chicago-bred musical that she calls a labor of love. Shooting Quest on location in cold, soggy Scotland as a nature girl whose mono-syllabic dialog consisted entirely of lines such as "Tho ma bro na me tiz me giz pu" was far less comfortable and a formidable challenge on several counts. There were more conventional language problems with Oscar-winning French director Annaud, who was supposed to speak fluent English. Rae Dawn giggled, re-calling, "For example, he'd often say, 'I'll remember you the scene.' That'll give you an idea. We were freezing our buns off and all thought we were dying every day. But when you're that cold, things become otherworldly. I learned you can act when you think you're dying."

She loved the Scots but was not so fond of their national dish, a yummy known as haggis. "It's made from the lining of a sheep's stomach, plus the heart, liver, lungs, all those juicy parts in something like a meat roll--and they bake it. They call it the caviar of sheep. Yeeccch, I wouldn't touch it."

A couple of rather explicit sexual encounters oncamera with leading man Everett McGill also rank low among her souvenirs. At one point, McGill as Naoh pushes aside another lusty, rutting cave man and mounts the girl, Ika, dog fashion.

"When they first approached me with that rape scene, I thought, Oh, boy. That was the most degrading. Though we didn't actually make love, of course, Everett's very realistic and he really hurt me. He was rough. He's a splendid actor; he played that mean guy who beat everybody up in Brubaker. The, too, being the only girl among three men and being the only one naked, I was a true minority. Still, I loved playing Ika. I couldn't have asked for a better part at this point in my career."

Her early years were as unconventional as you might expect, and when Rae Dawn starts to chatter about her complex family tree, it's easy to get lost in the branches. She is apt to refer to "our moms" when mentioning any of her father's three wives, by whom he has had five children.

"I'm the oldest, the daughter of his first wide, though I was raised by his second wife, Maxine. Maxine is my sister Robbi's mother. I believe they're even second cousins twice removed, my mother and Robbi's. Robbi is 18, a model, very up-and-coming and gorgeous.

"My father's current wife, Shelby, is blonde and blue-eyed, and they've got three blonde, blue-eyed children. My baby brother is only 13 months old. Right now, we're all the closet we have ever been. We support one another . . . emotionally, financially, any way we can. This family is wild, but there's a lot of love between us and that makes you strong."

Ask about racism, and Rae Dawn smiles a wide-screen smile that makes you think--for a fleeting moment--that her creamy mocha complexion must protect her from any particular ethnic labels. "My father is half Chinese, plus Irish and French; his family came from China and Ireland. My mother's black ancestors came from French Madagascar. My blood is beautifully mixed, so I can say, 'Look, folks, I'm just as white as I'm black, just as black as I am white.' I'm sort of a walking example of how ridiculous prejudice is. I'm articulate, I speak clearly, yet I can get right down and talk like stereotyped black people. Nevertheless, when I'm called for a part, it's usually for a black girl. That's one of the oldest institutions that Hollywood perpetuates very strongly. In TV, I can tell you, not many black people get leading roles, except in farcical black shows with stupid dialog, mostly written by writers who are white. It's hard for me to deal with racism. Raised with a black mother in a white neighborhood, I never knew I was different until I found out in cruel ways--in school, then modeling."

All Canadian, the Chong kids grew up in Vancouver, where their father operated two night spots--one a strip joint, the other a jazz club.

"Later on, we lived in L.A., and my parents told me I had to start working when I was 12. I mean, I was smart and didn't run around doing stupid things like becoming a drug addict. But I just did as I liked and was basically wild. I saw every night-club act, every concert, every movie. I was hip to everything, ambitious and kind of precocious, I guess. When I was seven years old, I'd be giving you advice about your marriage, things like that. So, at 12, I got a part at the Disney studios and began doing TV sitcoms and stuff. I sing quite well, but a singer's life is pretty crappy and miserable, centered too much on clubs. I think I burned myself out at a young age with that kind of scene."

Inside the exuberant girl, there's a self-possessed young woman who's expecting a baby before June. The proud father, she told us, is a young Manhattan stockbroker, Owen Baylis, a native of California. "Everybody who should know he is already knows Owen," says Rae Dawn, initially more receptive to questions about her previous two-year relationship with wealthy record producer Richard Perry. Finally, though, enthusiasm overwhelms discretion. "Owen and I are engaged, what I think of as indefinitely engaged, living together, every day, all day. First, when we found out I was pregnant, we said, 'Why not get married?' Then I thought to myself, Oh-oh, reactionary. No way. I feel married, and marriage is just a state of mind. I'm going to give my child his father's name, and I'm just thrilled to be having the baby." [Rae Dawn and Owen were married on Valentine's Day, as this issue was going to press.--Ed.]

Rae Dawn notes with a hint of mischief in her manner that their relationship transcends race. "Own is very white, tall and white, and he's one of the blackset men I know. He's got so much soul, he's blacker than me."

While waiting for the baby, Rae Dawn is busy writing a screenplay and a novel "with 63 chapters outlined." She developed a flair for writing, she quips, in early childhood. "Mostly because my father didn't believe in hitting us when we did wrong. As punishment, he always made us write something 100 times. So I became very good at writing."

She may have been punished a lot, but her conflicts with Tommy Chong have matured into a mutual-admiration society between Dad and daughter. "I just idolize him now. He left his second wife, you know, when I was about seven, and we fought seriously al the time when I was 12 of 14. But then, you finally learn that your father is just human, so give the guy a break."

That's past. What else is in the future? "If it takes ten or 20 years to do the things I want to do, that's OK. I don't see things being easy. There's no point in being a medium talent in this business. I feel extremely talented, and I'm not in a hurry, because I know in time, I'll get a chance to do what's right for me. You've got to be ready for it when it comes."