She Says, He Says

Marg Helgenberger and William Petersen

By Juan Morales
Emmy – Issue 3, 2009

Sun-blasted by day and blazing in neon by night, Las Vegas may be the brightest city in the world. But the garishly lit gambling mecca has no shortage of dark corners — or dark stories. For nine seasons and counting, the CBS drama CSI has mined the more sinister elements of Sin City via the exploits of an elite crime scene investigation unit, spawning massive ratings and two spinoffs — CSI: Miami and CSI: New York — along the way.

Like most procedural series, CSI is driven by story, not character. But its secret weapon has always been chemistry — not just the type behind the scientific techniques the team members use to crack cases, but the interplay of its ensemble cast. Exhibit A: the rapport between William Petersen and Marg Helgenberger.

On camera, the relationship between the stars was often fuelled by the contrast between Petersen’s cerebral squad leader, Gil Grissom, and Helgenberger’s Catherine Willows, whose history as a Vegas showgirl made her an unlikely, but undeniably effective, crime solver. Off camera, Petersen and Helgenberger were drawn together by similarities — most notably, their shared path as proud Midwesterners who made it from the heartland to Hollywood, with their values — and, impressively, their egos — intact.

For all this success in both feature films and television, the Illinois-bred Petersen, who insist on being called Billy, still regards himself as a roll-up-the-sleeves theater actor, ready to pound nails and paint scenery if necessary to get a production off the ground.

Helgenberger, a product of tiny North Bend, Nebraska (pop. 1,200), scored her first major success as substance-abusing prostitute KC Koloski on the ABC drama China Beach, for which she won a Primetime Emmy in 1990, and was nominated on two other occasions. She nabbed two more Emmy noms for CSI, and has appeared in several films, but she beams with pride at the memory of a trip back to North Bend when her childhood street was renamed Helgenberger Avenue in her honor. “I was really, really touched,” she says.

Not surprisingly, it was difficult to say goodbye when Petersen, a self-described “gypsy,” decided to leave CSI midway through season nine for other creative pursuits. Though they no longer spend fourteen-hour days together, the friends have remained close: “Marg and I had lunch together the other day,” Petersen says. “I miss her.”

As for CSI with the addition of Laurence Fishburne to the cast as neophyte investigator Dr Raymond Langston, it has remained television’s top scripted drama. Which is gratifying to Petersen, who an executive producer, as he has been since the series began. And though he has devoted most of his attention to the theater since his departure, he is open to an occasional return.

“If they need me for anything,” he says, “I’m available.”

MARG HELGENBERGER

How would you describe Billy Petersen to someone who has never met him?
Oh, gosh, so many ways. Dynamic, gregarious, funny, sexy, compelling. And very enigmatic — that’s one of the things that makes him so compelling.

Billy has always clung to his Chicago roots. How much of your Nebraska background remains with you?
I’m from farm country — bean fields, cornfields — and eventually worked my way up into meatpacking. So I’m not afraid of hard work. I think because I experienced it at such a young age, I can work a fourteen-hour day, even though it can be gruelling and hard to stay focused. Having done hard manual labor as a young person, I wasn’t ever going to take my television gig for granted. I’m so privileged to have this job.

How was the transition when Billy left CSI and Laurence joined the cast?
I was probably in denial about my feelings about his departure. We were playing a scene in which he was starting to tell me why he was leaving, and I said, “I knew before you knew.” I couldn’t get through it. I started sobbing uncontrollably. I eventually did it, and it clearly worked for the scene, but that was the first time I went, “Wow, these feelings are deeper than perhaps I had thought.” The last day was very hard. I was kind of a wreck. But I was thrilled that we were able to get Laurence, and he’s been so great. He gives it his all, and wants to be there, and is fun and funny, besides being a terrific actor.

You won an Emmy for China Beach, but it’s hard to imagine a show like that on TV these days.
I doubt if it would be on a [broadcast] network. It might pop up on cable, I mean, my character was a chain smoker, at one point had been a heroin user and was very brassy. I got spoiled with that part. But you could get away with more on television back then because there wasn’t so much emphasis on sweeps and numbers and ratings. With all due respect to the networks, they want hits now. They’re more inclined to go for something that they know is a sure bet.

The business has changed a lot since you started out, but you’ve had the good fortune of being on a top show.
Yes, and I’m never more relieved to have a job than I am during pilot season. Because every year it seems they make fewer and fewer, and every year they pay people less and less. I feel like I’m on one of the last dinosaurs of network television. I count my blessings every day for that. It’s hard to maintain, because now there’s a plethora of procedural shows that have taken their cue from us.

Procedurals are popular with audiences, yet they tend to get overlooked for awards. Why do you think that is?
Because, for the most part, they aren’t character driven. They’re driven by the plot or the science. Nuances are revealed through the characters, but CSI has remained true to its original idea of letting the story speak for itself, and the science through the science. At times it’s frustrating because I feel like I do get upstaged by the props, the gadgets, the gizmos, or even by the plot. But my job as an actor is to fill in all that, to flush out all the shades of the character that aren’t necessarily on the page. That continues to be the challenge of the show for me.

CSI is primarily shot in L.A., but the production has made regular trips to Las Vegas, where the show is set. What are your impressions of Vegas after so many years?
When we first started, it was still promoted as a place for the whole family. Then it slowly changed into “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” They started emphasizing it being Sin City. Now I think it’s trying to find its balance. It can be a very impersonal place, but if you get to know people, then it becomes less so. It really is so much about the action and the transaction, but I found my niche because I go for only twenty-four or forty-eight hours at a time.

You’re known for serious dramatic work. Do you ever wish someone would cast you in a silly comedy?
I would love it. Good comedy is so rare. And the opportunities are even rarer for me, because people see me as so serious when I’m not. I’ve played a lot of serious roles, but I try to emphasize the humor in all my characters.

Speaking of humor, is it true you have a production company called Don’t Call Me Marge?
Yeah, I do. Because my name does get mispronounced all the time.

WILLIAM PETERSEN

How would you describe Marg Helgenberger to someone who has never met her?
She’s beautiful, she’s refreshing, she’s honest, she’s funny. And she has a great sense of humor, which is especially great when you’re on the set for fourteen hours a day. She’s a Nebraska girl and I’m an Illinois boy, so we’re good together.

At times you’ve seemed conflicted between your identity as a Chicago theater actor and your Hollywood stardom.
That’s an ongoing debate that I have with myself, which is part of why I’m trying to return to the theater for a bit. When you’re doing only one thing, it’s easy to be afraid of other things or to be cynical of other things. But CSI has been a true object lesson in how incredibly hard everybody works in this town. It made me appreciate that when you see something good on television, it’s quite a task to get it there every week.

How was the transition between your departure from CSI and the arrival of Laurence Fishburne?
We couldn’t have gotten a better person. I’ve known Laurence a long time, and I respect the hell out of him. He’s such a pro. It could be very daunting for somebody to come into something that’s been going on for nine years. It takes somebody of Laurence’s strength and character to be able to come in and blend and still carry a huge load.

Procedurals like CSI are popular with viewers and big successes for the networks, but they seldom get attention when it comes to awards. What are your thoughts about the awards process?
Theater or film or television works best when it’s completely communal, when everybody is pulling for everybody else. The problem that I have with awards is — and I think many actors have this same notion — that it’s wonderful to have them, but it always feels like there shouldn’t be a winner. If everybody this year was going to play Gil Grissom, then we could decide who the best Gil Grissom was, I suppose. But everybody is doing different things. I think there should just be a great party.

Having attended several awards ceremonies, I’ve found that at the beginning of the evening, it’s fabulous. Everybody is dressed up, everybody is excited. Then, as the winners are chosen, they go backstage to talk to [the media], and they’re never seen or heard from again. All the people left in the room are the people who have lost. So about two-thirds of the way through the event, there’s a completely different energy in the room. It gets sort of dour, and people start to shift around in their seats and look at their watches and go, “Can we go home? I lost an hour-and-a-half ago.”

After spending time in Las Vegas over so many years, what are your impressions of the city?
What’s most interesting about Vegas is the difference between day and night. It’s like two different worlds. In the daytime it’s swimming pools and spas and arcades and roller coasters. And then, of course, by 11 at night it’s filled with sinners, sinning. You’ve got gamblers and hookers and strippers and booze and murder. You can flesh out pretty much of the American zeitgeist in Vegas.

People associate you with dark, dramatic work. Would you like to lighten up and do a silly comedy?
Oh, yeah. I’ve done comedy in theater, but comedy in films now seems buffoonish or youth-orientated. Maybe it always has been. I guess the Three Stooges were the Three Stooges for a reason — I’m not sure that Judd Apatow’s movies are any different. But somehow the wit of The Thin Man doesn’t quite exist anymore.

Early in the run of CSI, you had the opportunity to address Congress on the underfunding of crime labs. What was that like?
It was thrilling. I was nervous, but it was the right thing to do. There was no money coming into the crime labs. The CSI crime lab to this day is teched-out in ways that the majority of labs across the country are not, because they give us all the stuff — they want to have it on our show. But other labs are desperate to get some of the equipment we use.

It was great because I got to meet crime lab directors from around the country, a bunch of great guys, and they appreciated the show. A couple of years later the National Pathology Association gave me an award because I raised their profile. They could walk into parties and say they were coroners and not have people run to the other side of the room. It was like, “Hey, thanks. I can date now!”     ♦