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1993 - Shannen Doherty portrayed by Michael Comte for the November 1993 issue of Vanity Fair.

Brat on a Hot Tin Roof (Part 3)

Shannen doesn’t believe in hell. *‘I only believe in heaven,’’ she says, sitting by her pool. ‘‘My theory on it is that He’s our father, and no matter how many wrongdoings I do, I don’t see how He could have His child burn in eternal hell." She tosses a tennis ball into the pool for her dogs to retrieve. “I tend to think hell is where we are right now,” she adds," in the sense that there are so many struggles that we face.”

Which is why she has decided not to pose nude for Playboy, one of the ‘struggles’ she has struggled with lately. They were offering her a reported $300,000-plus. “They’re really nice people, but I just can’t do it,” she says. ‘‘I mean, what do these men do with Playboy? You always hear stories about them. You know, about men jerking off to Playboy in the bathroom. And that’s a horrifying thought. I just get this image of some really gross guy with, like, Playboy in front of him, just jerking off. And I'm like ‘Oh, God. No. No. I refuse to be the centerfold. I refuse.’ "

She has a similar response to drugs, another one of the hurdles she has faced. “I’ve surpassed that,” she explains. "I’m really not into drugs. It’s sort of like I’m having a natural high on my life, just being myself. Why do I want a drug to alter who I am? Why do I want to snort coke so I can be extremely hyper and talk nonstop? I’ve never understood that drug. What’s the point? And what about ecstasy? I've seen my friends on it, just touching themselves and going home with people they don’t know and I’m like ‘Haven’t you heard of AIDS? My God, what are you thinking? Just because some drug makes you feel incredibly sexual, now you’re just going to pick up on some guy? Get a little control.' I don’t like being out of control, you know. Despite what People magazine says about me.”

She pets her black Lab absentmindedly. “My focus is on finding true happiness,” she says. “That’s my world now.”

Ie a Friday night and Shannen and some of her friends are at the Universal Amphitheatre to see Frank Black (formerly of the Pixies) and the The. "Getting good seats for concerts is clearly the best thing about being famous,’’ she says. ‘‘That means a lot to me.”’

She doesn’t usually go out armed with bodyguards—only if it’s a big function, like when she led the Pledge of Allegiance at the Republican National Convention. Tonight she just pulled her hair over her face like Cousin Itt and walked to her seat. ‘‘It’s like Jack Nicholson at a Lakers game,’’ she explains. ‘‘They see him, but they leave him alone.”

Shannen considers herself something of a music aficionado. ‘‘I have Jimi Hendrix in my car right now,”’ she says proudly.

‘Really?’ I ask. ‘‘Are You Experienced?’’

“In what sense?’’ she responds. ‘Are you asking me if I'm like a Jimi Hendrix person with heroin? Am I experienced in heroin? No, I'm not.”

She seems more knowledgeable about tonight’s concert. It’s a great show and she’s having a great time until a woman approaches her. "She goes, ‘You're not Shannen Doherty, are you?’" Shannen says, recounting the incident the next day. "And I was like ‘No.’ She goes, ‘Well, I’m a casting director and this band is doing a song called ‘We Hate Brenda,’ and we’re looking for a Brenda look‘alike. And you look an incredible amount like her.' "

The woman gave Shannen her card. She looked at it and handed it back. ‘‘I am Shannen,’’ she said. ‘‘ And no thank you." “The woman sat down,’’ Shannen recalls, ‘‘and apologized, but I don’t know whether her apology was sincere or not. Hopefully she’ll think about what I said because what she’s doing is cruel, unjust, and just wrong."

The casting director at the show was working for Kerin Morataya and Darby Romeo, the two masterminds behind what can only be described as the 'I Hate Brenda’ movement... [They give these people some lines that I'm not going to bother to type here, but can be found on the scans of you want to read them]

“It’s propaganda!’’ exclaims Shannen. “These two girls are obviously lonely and depressed and attention-starved. They decided to get attention by picking on me.” She pauses. The I Hate Brenda stuff really upsets her. It also upsets Aaron Spelling, whose company produces Beverly Hills, 90210, and who threatened to stop the recently published I Hate Brenda Book. “We own the name Brenda," he said. "And our lawyers are looking into it.”

But doesn’t Shannen think all this is even a tiny bit amusing? ‘‘No,”’ she says emphatically. ‘‘None of it is amusing to me. What's funny about it? It’s just people hating me. It’s just. . . bad!"

Brenda is back. There are constant rumors that Shannen will be fired from 90210, but here she is, on the set, ready to work. “We would never think of dropping Shannen,’’ says Spelling, who is not a stranger to temperamental stars, having produced such landmark shows as Charlie's Angels and Dynasty. "The actress Shannen Doherty was acting out a lot,” says executive producer Darren Star. ‘‘She was pretty crazy. …She’s clashed with cast members—there’s no love lost between Luke Perry and Shannen—but they're both actors and can put their personal differences aside. There was never any real question that she’d be back.”

And here she is. “Where do you want me?” Shannen is asking. In this episode, the third of the season, Brenda has gone to Minnesota for college. Her roommate, a childhood friend, and she have had several fights, mostly over boys (what else?). And in this scene today Brenda announces that she’s moving back to Beverly Hills. ‘‘Shan,” says director Jeff Melman, ‘‘I want you over a little to the left.”’

Shannen is wearing jeans, a tight cropped black sweater, and (of course) motorcycle boots. She seems oblivious to the other actors, especially the girl who plays her roommate, who is sitting on the edge of the bed having her long blond tresses groomed.

After four rehearsals, they shoot the scene: Brenda bursts in on her roommate and her roommate’s boyfriend. The boyfriend puts on his pants and leaves. Brenda yanks out her suitcase and begins to pack. The roommate pleads, ‘‘I know I've been a jerk lately, but we’ve been friends forever.” Brenda continues to pack. Then she delivers her big speech: ‘‘I wanted to be different. Not just from my friends back there, but from you and everyone else. And the truth is, I am different. And that’s just the way it is.” Tight close-up. End of scene.

They go through this several times, and with each take, Shannen sounds grumpier. Brenda always seems to be a little cross, in a perpetually bad mood, and that’s because it’s the way Shannen plays her. ‘‘The character is whiny,” Shannen says defensively. ‘‘But this season will be cool. I end up going out with an older man and it’s a good story line.”’

Melman and Doherty confer a moment over some bit of blocking. Watching the monitor it’s clear that, despite her limited range as an actress, the camera loves Shannen. The girl playing her roommate is, by any objective standard, more beautiful. Yet your eye goes straight to Shannen. The other girl fades away—she’s just another blonde—while Shannen holds your attention. Even the way in which she is irritating and petulant is somehow arresting. She draws you in.

After the scene is taped, Shannen retreats quickly to her dressing room. On the walls are framed magazine covers featuring the stars of 90210 and some pinned-up snapshots. ‘‘I should probably take the shots of the ex-boy-friends down,’’ she says, ripping a photo of Dean off the wall. She tears it in half.

Her friend Audreé Futterman is waiting for her. ‘‘Audreé is part of my team,” Shannen says, plopping down on a futon. ‘She does my hair in all my movies.” The other half of her team is her makeup person, Toni G. They have become her best friends.

Audreé and Shannen were hanging out last night until two A.M. on the set of Wolf, which stars Jack Nicholson. Audreé, who is wearing a loose dress with black boots, is doing hair on the film.

There’s a knock at the door, and a 90210 assistant hands Shannen two white paper bags. She gives one to Audreé and tears open the other. ‘“Two or three years ago when I used to drink and I'd get a hangover, I'd eat a hamburger and French fries,” Shannen explains as she unwraps her burger. ‘‘In-N-Out are the best.” Audreé smiles, as if this is some kind of joke only they two can share. ‘“Two or three years ago? Back then?” she asks. ‘‘Yeah,’’ says Shannen, eating away. She laughs. "I can hardly remember.”’

There’s a lot of back-and-forth about Peter Gabriel concerts and how Shannen doesn’t approve of Audreé’s latest boyfriend and whether or not Shannen will be able to land a part in hipster screenwriter-director Quentin Tarantino’s latest project, Pulp Fiction. Besides Brenda, Shannen’s greatest artistic triumph was playing one of the Heathers in Heathers, the cult film that launched the careers of Winona Ryder and Christian Slater. Shannen’s eager to get her career back on that kind of cool track, and a role in Pulp Fiction would help. “My agent snuck me the script,” she says. ‘‘He says I'd be perfect.”’ (Tarantino wasn’t aware of Shannen’s interest. The three female roles went to Ma- ria de Medeiros, Rosanna Arquette, and Uma Thurman.)

There is another knock on the door, and an assistant director peeks in and asks Shannen if she could talk to the wardrobe person on her way back to the set. Shannen frowns. ‘‘I thought we worked out the fittings,’’ she says, getting increasingly nasty with every word. ‘‘Could you go tell her that?’ The A.D. leaves and Shannen looks at Audreé. ‘‘God,” Shannen says. ‘‘I mean, if she wants to do a proper fitting . . ."

A few moments later, the A.D. reappears. ‘‘They need you," she says. “And could you stop by Wardrobe?" Shannen rolls her eyes. ‘‘O.K.!’’ she snaps.

Audreé appears to be oblivious—she is there to worship. ‘“Wasn’t Jack great last night?’’ she asks Shannen. ‘Jack definitely has antennae.’

‘“Yeah,”’ Shannen agrees, ‘‘he’s got em.”

They both smile—more in-jokes. “You’ve got antennae, Audreé,’’ Shannen says, pulling on her motorcycle boots. ‘‘ ‘Antennae’ means you’re not self-conscious,’’ she explains, "because you don’t care. That you're just different.”

Audreé finishes her fries. ‘‘Yeah—that’s you, Shannen,’’ she says admiringly. “You don’t care. You've definitely got antennae.’’

“I hope so," says Shannen. "I really hope so.”

(Part 1 — Part 2)

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