ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times

DATE: Wednesday, June 12, 1996               TAG: 9606120005
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 2    EDITION: METRO 
DATELINE: NEW YORK 
SOURCE: GAIL SHISTER KNIGHT-RIDDER/TRIBUNE 


ROSIE O'DONNELL'S LIFE IS ON A DIFFERENT COURSE

To funnygal Rosie O'Donnell, motherhood is no joke.

Sure, the Kmart commercials with Penny Marshall are gut busters. So are the movies (``Sleepless in Seattle,'' ``A League of Their Own''), musicals (``Grease''), HBO specials, standup gigs and star turns with Dave and Jay.

But ask O'Donnell how little Parker has changed her life, and the steel-edged Long Islander melts before your eyes.

``Before my son arrived [one year ago, May 27], I always thought I'd die young, like my mother. Now, for the first time, I think I have something to live for. The dread, fear, doom and gloom has been replaced by love and sunshine. It's hard to put into words. It's like you grow another heart.''

Another heart is what brought the 34-year-old O'Donnell to this, the newest twist in an ever-twisting career - daytime talk-show host.

``The Rosie O'Donnell Show'' launched into syndication Monday. Described by the host as ``Merv Griffin'' for the '90s,'' the show features an opening monologue, celeb guests and a band.

O'Donnell didn't envision herself in the talk-show biz for another 15 years. But the attraction of regular hours and no heavy lifting was irresistible for O'Donnell, who yearned to be a ``hands on'' mom to Parker.

Mother and son are rarely apart.

A bright, new nursery adjoins O'Donnell's spacious office on the eighth floor of NBC's Rockefeller Plaza headquarters. Between meetings and rehearsals, O'Donnell can usually be found cavorting with her boy, whom she adopted when he was two days old.

``Harriet the Spy,'' which opens nationwide July 10, convinced O'Donnell to put her movie career on hold. During the 23-day shoot in Toronto, ``I hardly ever saw my son,'' she says. ``I felt horrible. By the second day, I knew it wouldn't work. This was not the kind of parent I wanted to be.

``I want to be the one to put him to bed, to wake him up in the morning, and to be there when he takes his first step and says his first word. ... I wanted to find a job in the entertainment industry that could accommodate my desire to be a full-time parent.''

Parenthood is more than a choice for O'Donnell. It's a calling.

The death of her mother, Roseanne, at the age of 36 to liver and pancreatic cancer ``was the defining event of my life, and it remains so,'' recalls O'Donnell, tears clouding her eyes. ``I didn't have a mom growing up, so it's very important for me to be there for my son.''

Her father, Edward, an electrical engineer, never discussed his grief with the family, O'Donnell says. She and her sibs - Eddie, now 36, Danny, 35, Maureen, 33, and Timmy, 30 - were discouraged from even talking about their mother.

It took ``many, many years'' of therapy for O'Donnell to heal.

Her father later remarried and moved to North Carolina. O'Donnell gets along with her stepmom ``because she wasn't raised in our family and didn't know the rules, so she's communicative.''

O'Donnell is communicative about everything except her private life. Her mantra is that she's single and doesn't have time to date. Most likely, the details will be revealed in her memoirs, for which she recently signed a reported $3-million deal with Warner Books.

Warner Bros. has guaranteed ``Rosie'' an initial run of 39 weeks. O'Donnell has a four-year contract worth an estimated $4 million, plus a piece of the show.

She plans to devote all her professional energy to the show, but she will honor previously scheduled commitments, including a few more Kmart spots, standup gigs in Vegas and Atlantic City and a kids musical for Miramax.

While acknowledging that her focus on TV will probably hurt her movie career, O'Donnell says it will help her standup by honing her already switchblade-sharp wit.

Daniel Kellison, ``Rosie's'' executive producer and an eight-year segment producer for David Letterman, puts O'Donnell's comedic talent in the same stratosphere as Robin Williams and Dana Carvey.

``Very few people can come on `Letterman' the first time and destroy the audience. Rosie did it,'' Kellison says.

O'Donnell's smash debut made her a Letterman fave, Kellison says. ``We could call her two hours before the show and say, `A guest just fell out. Can you help us?' She'd say, `I have nothing to talk about.' Then 45 minutes later, after telling you what happened at lunch that day, you're on the floor.''

Motherhood won't soften O'Donnell's funny bone, she says. In fact, Rosie's Golden Rule of Comedy remains sacrosanct: Never do a joke about someone that you wouldn't tell him/her in person.

``I would tell Woody Allen, to his face, `I think it's horrible that you're sleeping with your daughter.' I would tell O.J. Simpson, to his face, `I think you killed your wife.' I would do those vicious, controversial jokes with an edge ... I'm not going to change my act.''

Don't look for much ugliness on ``Rosie.'' Unlike Ricki Lake, Jenny Jones et al., this show ``will not be a festival of humiliation,'' O'Donnell promises. Instead of civilians ``telling all their shameful secrets for a ticket to New York,'' guests will include celebrities ranging from Carol Channing to George Clooney to Susan Sarandon.

Not to mention Broadway production numbers, animals, plate spinners, kids and remote taped segments, Kellison adds. (Sound familiar, Letterman fans?)

Comparing ``Rosie'' to daytime trash talkers ``is like comparing `General Hospital' to `ER,''' gushes Warner Bros. honcha Barbara Brogliatti. ``Both are serialized dramas, but there's a big difference in quality.''

It was O'Donnell's quality that attracted Kate Clinton to ``Rosie's'' writing staff - the first-ever staff job for the lesbian writer-comedian.

``She knows exactly what she wants, what works and what doesn't work,'' says Clinton, 47. ``My gay friends are all excited about the show. There's a way she's so funny, so camp, that we all appreciate.

``And she's a trivia expert about Mary Tyler Moore and Barbra Streisand.''

Clinton, a pal of Rosie's for 10 years, relocated from Provincetown, Mass., with her lover of eight years, writer-activist Urvashi Vaid (``Virtual Equality.) Clinton hopes to get ``some gay humor'' on the show.

With Clinton's help, O'Donnell's goal is to create a talked-about talk show. But career isn't all that's important to Rosie, who moved back East from L.A. to be closer to her family. Having a child, she says, ``has been a great equalizer in terms of my celebrity.''

``When I go out alone in the city, sometimes it can be difficult. Now, when I take my son to the park, mothers stop me as a mom, not as somebody on TV or movies.

``They ask how old he is, how he's doing. I'm able to connect with people on an innate maternal level. My fame has been superseded by my parenting, which I love.

``I'm in the sorority now.''

Gail Shister writes for the Philadelphia Inquirer.


LENGTH: Long  :  124 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: O'Donnell



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