Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, July 7, 1995 TAG: 9507070016
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 2 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: FRAZIER MOORE ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
With such proximity, she muses, ``I think they should let my character do the commentaries instead of Andy Rooney.''
An idea worth considering. But for now, you'll find Maryann only on ``Cybill'' Mondays at 9:30 p.m. on WDBJ (Channel 7). One of the few bright spots on CBS, it stars Cybill Shepherd as an over-40 actress struggling with a fading career, sagging body parts, a pair of ex-husbands and two lippy daughters.
Cybill's pal is Maryann, chic washout from the Betty Ford Clinic and recovering divorcee - not to mention a sly observer of life.
``So you met a guy who couldn't do it!'' she consoles Cybill on last week's repeat of the series opener. ``If I had a nickel for every time my ex-husband couldn't perform'' - a delicious pause while she surveys her plush surroundings - ``well, actually, I do!''
Make no mistake, it's not Gatorade that Maryann is sucking from that quart-size squeeze bottle.
``But we don't glorify drinking,'' Baranski insists. ``The stuff of fiction is people's foibles. What would `Anna Karenina' be without adultery? Did Tolstoy mean to say adultery is the way to go? Maryann is fiction, and as fantasies go, she's a lot of fun.''
That's in no small measure thanks to Baranski, a TV newcomer who was an instant sensation when ``Cybill'' premiered last January.
``The funny thing is, most of America had not heard of me,'' she says one recent afternoon, very smart in her cable-knit sweater and black riding pants, one wrist a-sparkle with Maryann's diamond tennis bracelet (attention muggers: it's fake). ``For people who had never seen me before, I was this rather flamboyant, exotic bird. I think being an unknown quantity worked in my favor.''
She was anything but unknown to New York's theater-going community, however. With credits ranging from Shakespeare to Neil Simon, she had distinguished herself both on- and off-Broadway, with two Tony Awards and an Obie to prove it.
``When I say I've paid my dues, I really did spend a lot of time working before getting this kind of exposure. I think my success in this series is by virtue of my ability'' - she laughs - ``and not my wild good looks.''
But don't sell those looks short. The lofty cheekbones. The mouth, sultry even when she's clowning around. The truly singular nose: ``If it went THIS way,'' she says, pressing down its upturned tip, ``look at that! Wouldn't I be Barbra Streisand?
``I've always had an odd but sophisticated-looking face. At certain angles it can look quite glamorous, but from another angle it's a very funny face. I was never an ingenue, let's put it that way.''
Baranski has made a day of it in Manhattan by doing a little shopping, as well as the interview. Soon, she and her purchases will head back to Connecticut and the small-town life she shares with her husband, actor Matthew Cowles, and their two daughters, ages 7 and 10. Their beautiful 18th-century farmhouse. The wonderful school her girls attend. The neighbors she calls ``lovely'' - on whom she and her family must pay a call if they want to watch ``Cybill.''
"We don't have a TV,'' Baranski explains. ``When my older daughter was 4, I found her watching male strippers on `Sally Jessy Raphael.'
``Now they have a computer, they play in the woods, they read. They even play cards. Once I found them playing poker using Cheerios as chips.''
But fall is just around the corner and ``Cybill'' has been picked up for (at least) 13 more segments. When mid-August arrives, Baranski will resume the cross-country commute the role of Maryann induced her to undertake.
While in Los Angeles, where the show is filmed, Baranski makes her home in a residence hotel off Sunset Boulevard. There, she is strategically close to restaurants she likes and a favorite newsstand, where ``I buy the New York Review of Books, the New Yorker, New York magazine and The New York Times.''
But get this: She WALKS to these places.
``I'm rather frightened of cars,'' Baranski confides. ``I used to take a bus in from Connecticut when I was on Broadway. I still haven't been on a freeway in Los Angeles. I don't like highway driving. I take only surface streets.''
And she serves as living proof: They get you there.
by CNB