Michelle Pfeiffer at 60: Still White Gold, Still the Best

Hard to believe it, but Michelle Pfeiffer will turn sixty on April 29th.

Not as hard to believe, I'm an enormous Michelle Pfeiffer fan, or pfan, if you will. I've written extensively about her work, and I will likely continue to do so until someone pries the keyboard out of my cold, dead hands.

Pfeiffer turning sixty feels momentous. Obviously, we could go on for days about how she doesn't look sixty, about how she's managed to retain her stunning, otherworldly, jaw-dropping good looks all these years. Certainly, when I first discovered her in the mid- to late-1980s as an adolescent, it was her captivating eyes and pouty lips that first made me sit up and say, "Whoa!" After all this time, she's still solid White Gold. Always has been, always will be.

Reducing Michelle Pfeiffer to her looks, however, is never a wise decision. She's so much more than just quite possibly the world's most pretty face. She's a true artist, an extremely talented, once-in-a-lifetime performer who's left an indelible mark on cinema history. In retrospect, I can see that I recognized this fairly early in my pfandom. It didn't take long to notice her remarkably consistent excellence—in fact, she's often been the best part of any film in which she's appeared.

There are too many career highlights for me to discuss them all here. Instead, let's just take a quick tour through my memory banks, revisiting some of her most stellar moments to show how, no matter the role or the quality of  the film, Pfeiffer always encourages me to form a strong connection to her characters. It's as if I know them personally.

There she is, descending that staircase in Scarface (1983), a moment that emphatically announced her as a Star, with a capital "S." As Elvira Hancock in Brian De Palma's epic, bombastic, and scathing look at the American Dream, Pfeiffer stands detached from the surrounding insanity, emanating clear disdain for much of what's happening around her, even though she doesn't feel worthy of anything better. This is the moment the White Gold Queen was born.

In Married to the Mob (1988) Pfeiffer again plays the lone voice of reason in a sea of crazy people. This time, she's trying to break free of a life as a mobster's wife, and Pfeiffer's touching and thoughtful portrait of Angela learning to let her innate goodness and light shine is so heartwarming it almost makes cry just thinking about it.

Everybody remembers Pfeiffer's red-hot performance of "Makin' Whoopee" atop Jeff Bridge's piano in The Fabulous Baker Boys (1989). That moment will forever be included in highlight reels of her work, but the entire performance is powerful, with Pfeiffer striking just the right notes throughout the film. As Susie Diamond, she gets another memorable entrance—this time falling into frame after breaking a high heeled shoe, shouting, "God dammit!" Susie is as a pure a distillation of what makes Pfeiffer so good as any role could be—as a former escort turned lounge singer, Susie has lived a hard life, yet her caustic wit belies a woman who still believes in hope.

For Frankie and Johnny (1991) Pfeiffer dug deep and turned in a performance dear to my heart  as a sarcastic, scared, and depressed diner waitress who's practically given up on love. It might be her best work. The film affords Pfeiffer several showstopping moments, including her heartfelt confession that all she needs for a good night is to be left alone with her VCR and takeout food. As funny as Pfeiffer makes Frankie, she never lets us forget just how much emotional pain Frankie is living with, every moment of every day. Towards the end of film, Pfeiffer sobs nearly uncontrollably while delivering a heartbreaking monologue that is so impressive, an argument can be made it's her finest moment on film, period.

I could go on, and chances are I have, and will, for the rest of my life. After all, she's given us so many amazing performances to talk about!

As Countess Ellen Olenska in The Age of Innocence (1993), Pfeiffer crafted one of the most powerful portrayals of unrequited longing in cinematic history.

She was a breath of fresh air in I Could Never Be My Woman (2007), and shared great comedic chemistry with Paul Rudd.

Who will ever forget her deliciously evil turn as Velma Von Tussle in 2007's remake of Hairspray.

In 2009, she delivered two drastically different yet exquisitely beautiful performances, in Personal Effects and Cheri. Each role allowed her to show off her unique range.

When she turned up in mother! (2017), she stole the film right out from under everyone else.

The same happened in her other 2017 movie, Murder on the Orient Express. She brought the film to life every time she sauntered into the frame.

And on, and on, and on. Next up is this year's Where Is Kyra?, which critics have so far praised as quite possibly the best work of  her career. Clearly, she's still got it.

While I've mentioned a few of my favorite Pfeiffer performances here, let's be honest, all of her performances are my favorites. Each one offers a window into the soul of one of our most thoughtful and introspective performers. Pfeiffer is a sort of introvert hero for me. Many of her best characters are clearly introverted, and her acting often reflects just how hard it can be navigating a world that's stacked against introverts.

Take Selina Kyle, in Batman Returns (1992). Selina's a timid field mouse, living a dreary existence in big, bad Gotham City. She's an administrative assistant hiding behind big glasses and a lifetime of insecurities. When she's magically, and memorably, transformed into Catwoman, she finally gains the strength to stand up for herself. "I am Catwoman, hear me roar," she declares—a wonderfully unsubtle nod to feminism, or to anyone who's ever felt out of step with the world. With Selina/Catwoman, Pfeiffer created a character for the ages, one that was unfailingly human while still standing as a symbol of the oppressed rising up and fighting back—a symbol of the resistance.

These ramblings are just a few of the myriad reasons why I love Michelle Pfeiffer, and why I never tire of watching her breathe life into characters that I find all too relatable. With some actors, you can see the gears shifting behind the performances. Not so with Pfeiffer. Her organic and non-performative style has been a refreshing change of pace in movies for nearly forty years now. Few actors have ever seemed more real in movies That she's managed to lose herself in roles while also becoming a larger-than-life icon of cool is incredibly impressive.

There's a reason why fans return to her work often. There's a reason we eagerly anticipate her next film. There's a reason we connect so strongly with so many of her performances. There's a reason she's name-checked lovingly in songs like "Uptown Funk" and "Riptide." She's a legend, a true movie star, certainly, but she's also that rare breed of actor who makes us feel intimately connected to her characters, and by extension, to her.

Let's all raise a glass to Michelle Pfeiffer at sixty. I'm grateful to have grown up on her films. Her thoughtful performances continue to entertain, challenge, and inspire me.

And if you're reading—I can dream, no?—thanks for everything, Ms. Pfeiffer. Or, may I call you Michelle? After all, it feels like I know you.