‘Gilligan’s Island’ Star Tina Louise Reflects on Her Memoir, Career and Family Life (EXCLUSIVE)
Generations of TV viewers know her as Ginger Grant—the “Movie Star” from Gilligan’s Island—but actress Tina Louise has had a long and varied career; one that has taken her from the Broadway stage to the big screen and, of course, numerous television appearances. But before any of that, there were the childhood events chronicled in her memoir, Sunday, which could have been emotionally crippling as she grew up, but instead propelled her on her life’s journey.
While Sunday was originally published in 1997, Tina has more recently issued an audiobook version, read by her, which is available now through Audible. As to what compelled her to write it in the first place, she offers in its foreword, “I wrote Sunday when my daughter, Caprice, was seven or eight years old and I had been working on a film, Nightmare in Badham County, which took place in a prison. I visited several prisons for research before filming began, and the claustrophobic atmosphere affected me strongly. The frustration of the women occupants, with little to look forward to but tasteless food and stale air, prompted me to reflect back on a time in my life when it felt as though I were in a prison myself.
“When I was around six years old, my mother put me in Ardsley School For Girls, outside New York City,” she adds. “At this tender age, when most children are home with at least one parent, it felt a bit odd to be there, but the circumstances of my parents’ lives made it necessary …I’ve written what I can remember from that time, just snatches of my life. I hope that my book will help readers to understand my feelings about this experience, which are even stronger now than when I first wrote Sunday.
“Hearing and reading about so many people having children at a young age rekindled my desire to get Sunday out to the public. I wanted to call attention to the fact that young children are entitled to a warm and nurturing upbringing, and real maturity is needed in order to provide this. If Sunday could in some way help stop one girl or boy from bringing a child into the world before he or she is really ready to nurture, guide, love, and hold a child close, I feel I would be doing a service.”
For the record, Sunday was the one day a week parents came to visit their children at Ardsley, though, as she discovered, that was no guarantee that they would. This and much more—including her reflections on Gilligan’s Island—is discussed with Tina Louise in this exclusive interview.
Gilligan’s Island is currently airing on MeTV, Sundays at 2:00 and 2:30 PM Central Time
WOMAN’S WORLD (WW): As an actress, of course, you’ve revealed yourself many times through your performances. But to decide to share this portion of your childhood, how heavy a decision was that?
TL: It just kind of crept up on me; it was the right time. Early in my life, I was so busy being moved around by different people and going to so many places that I didn’t feel settled until I was eight years old. The book ends with my dad taking me out of there. I have no memory of living with my mother at that point. She came to pick me up a couple of years later, when I was 11.
So, I went from one group of people—one family, really—to another. There were many people around, but most of them were strangers to me. Then, suddenly, I was with my mother. I was 11, and now she was a grownup, with her own set of friends and her own life. My past wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. She erased it, in a way. She even had me call my dad to tell him I couldn’t see him anymore because she thought it was for the best. At the time, I was used to following orders, so I did as I was told.
I kept getting orders—go here, do this. I was just picked up, taken, and moved around, and the subject of my past was never going to come up. My mother’s world was completely different from my dad’s. His home had been a family house, filled with cousins and a sense of connection. Looking back, especially when I was working on the book, I realized something: I didn’t want to leave. Why would I? For the first time, I felt a sense of security, something I had never experienced before. But I had no choice.
It all happened so fast—it was a surprise. She just came by one day, and someone must have packed a few things in a bag for me. Before I knew it, I was out the door and into a completely different situation. And in this new life, the subject of my father—or that part of my past—couldn’t come up. It just couldn’t, and it didn’t.
WW: How did your parents react to the book?
TL: When I eventually wrote the book, my mother was still alive, and she wasn’t happy about it. She didn’t want me bringing all of this to the surface. But I did share it with my dad. By that time, he was living in a senior care facility. I read the book to him, and when I finished, he looked at me and said, “Did this really happen?” I said, “Yes, it did. Are you okay with it?” And he was okay with it. That visit ended up being the last time I saw him.
As for my mother, I think, instinctively, I always knew this part of my life wasn’t something to talk about. Everything that had happened before had to be pushed away—it wasn’t supposed to exist. But despite all of that, the book was written. And it wasn’t like I said anything bad about her—I didn’t. It was just something she didn’t want to confront, not at that time, and probably not ever.
WW: Which seems kind of symbolic of the relationship you had with them.
TL: I didn’t see my father again until after my first film, God’s Little Acre. At that time, my mother was going through her third divorce, and it was overwhelming. I remember thinking, I have to go find him. So, I did. That’s when I reignited my relationship with him, but by then, it felt like a lifetime had passed since we last saw each other. I’m so glad I did it.
When it came to recording the book, I had never done it before and wanted to very much. I felt that if people heard me saying the words myself, they would understand it more deeply; it would feel more emotional. For those who had never had that kind of experience or couldn’t understand it, hearing it in my own voice might help them connect to it.
At the same time, during the process, I realized something important: I wanted people to ask me questions. Those questions would help me gain a fuller understanding of what had happened, because I had moved on from that part of my life and managed to experience amazing things. I’m a very fortunate person. As it turned out, my mother was supportive when she realized I was truly interested in acting.
WW: You mention in Sunday how much you enjoyed getting applause and laughter when you performed at Ardsley. Was the pursuit of acting an escape from your childhood pain?
TL: I’ve read stories about certain famous people who knew when they were five years old that they wanted to be an actor. That wasn’t me. It just happened. When I was at that school, someone—an older person, obviously—taught me a monologue, and I enjoyed it.
By the time I was with my mother, I was in seventh and eighth grade. Back then, public school went from kindergarten to eighth grade. After that, I went to a progressive educational high school where you lived on campus—it was a sleepaway school. I was always going away. My whole life has felt like I’ve been on the road—except now. Now I’m in one place, unless I go to California to visit my daughter and her two little ones, who are seven years old.
In high school, something happened that really stuck with me. They announced, “We have a canteen, and we need people to perform in it.” I remembered the monologue I had learned when I was seven or eight, so I raised my hand and decided I would perform it. By that time, I was 13-and-a-half or 14, and practically as tall as I am now. It must’ve been funny—I mean, it was funny—but it was funnier because I was so tall. It ended up being a big hit. This was early in the school year, and it helped me make friends, which I really liked.
We also had a wonderful drama teacher. He was such a great guy that everybody wanted to be in the plays. It wasn’t about wanting to be an actor for me—I just wanted to be part of those plays.
But along the way, something else happened. While I was living with my mother, we went to a resort, and I met a really cute boy. He ended up being cast in a play on Broadway. My mother arranged for us to see him in the show, and afterward, we went backstage. I was so affected by that experience.
All the kids backstage had their makeup on—everyone was around 17—and the whole atmosphere was electrifying.
At the time, I was in my first six months at Miami University. By the summer, though, I realized something: I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to study acting full-time. When I told my mother, she actually went along with it. I left Miami U. after just six months, and she enrolled me in the Neighborhood Playhouse, which was an incredible school. After that, she and her husband went off to Europe, and I stayed behind to focus on my studies.
WW: What was that experience like?
TL: The program was intense. We studied all day long—voice training, dancing, everything. It was a wonderful place to be, surrounded by so much talent and creativity. I lived in a boarding house called The Baron, which was strictly for girls—no men allowed. It was such a focused, dedicated environment and I loved every minute of it.
That summer, I had another exciting experience. There was a woman named Lucille Lortel, who you might’ve heard of. She was incredibly successful and had a theater downtown [in New York]. After inheriting a fortune from her husband, she used it to start the White Barn Theatre in Westport, Connecticut. My mother had a place there, and the theater had a fantastic setup. Apprentices worked on the plays during the week, and on weekends, professionals would come up from New York to test out new productions. It was a big deal—New Yorkers would escape the heat of the city to enjoy the shows. The atmosphere was vibrant, exciting, and inspiring.
One night, after a reception, my mother struck up a conversation with some people who were putting together a play with Bette Davis. That conversation led to me getting a chance to audition, and I ended up being cast in the chorus. That was my first job, and it’s how things really started moving for me. That’s where it all began.
I realized there was something inside me that loved performing. I wanted to study it, to pursue it. And along the way, I was having so much fun.
Around that time, my mother was also a member of a country club, and one day she asked me to drop something off there. When I went, I saw a group of kids sitting around a table. Hours later, when I returned to pick up whatever she needed, those same kids were still sitting there. And in that moment, I thought, That’s not going to be me. I wasn’t going to be someone who just sat around, passing the time. I wanted to move, to act, to do something. I craved action—and I still do.
That’s how my journey began. My mother, by then, was fully immersed in her own social circle, surrounded by friends who were deeply connected to the city’s energy. She enjoyed it all. As for me, I had no clear idea where I was heading, but I went along with the opportunities that came my way.
When you’re young, so many things happen, and you’re brave enough to say yes to them. You believe you can win, and that’s exactly how I felt. When you’re young, you think you can do anything.
WW: It’s one thing to say, okay, you got cast—you were part of the chorus in the Bette Davis project. But when you really look back at your life, you were on Broadway, starred in movies and transitioned into television. Was it just a case of things kind of happening and taking you there? Or did you really have to bust your butt to land these roles and navigate between these different mediums?
TL: I noticed early on that people got attention if they sang a song, so I decided to put together a little act. Not long after that, I was asked to audition for Li’l Abner on Broadway. I tried out, but honestly, I didn’t feel like I knew what I was doing. So, I was shocked when they called me back. They said, “Well, you didn’t wear a low-cut dress. You were supposed to wear a low-cut dress for this part.”
For my callback, I wore a better dress, something more appropriate for the role, and they explained that the part was funny. But I didn’t know I was funny. I never thought of myself that way. I figured, Well, I’m just going to talk loud and wear the low-cut dress. And it worked—I got the part.
Back then, when you did a play, you didn’t just rehearse for a few weeks and open like they do now. You went from city to city, trying it out in front of live audiences before heading to Broadway. We went to Philadelphia, Boston, Detroit, and Washington, and the show was a huge hit—absolutely huge.
As it turned out, the producer and director of my first film, God’s Little Acre—Anthony Mann and Sidney Harmon—were in the audience one night. According to the story, Sidney said, “I think we should see that girl,” but Anthony Mann wasn’t so sure. He said, “No, no, no, I want a farm girl!”
But Sidney insisted, “Well, we’re seeing a lot of girls—let’s see her.” So, my agent sent me to the Warwick Hotel to meet with them. I asked him, “What should I say?” and he told me, “Just tell them you take direction very well.” I was nervous but ready, and I probably said exactly what my agent advised—though I don’t remember now.
Sidney asked me to come back, and when I did, they gave me the script to read and told me to wash my face. I had my stage makeup on, which I thought was appropriate, but apparently, it wasn’t. I almost asked, “What does that mean?” but I didn’t—I just went along with it.
The dress I wore for the callback was probably too glamorous, but it felt right for the character. I wasn’t a farm girl, so I was doing my best to embody the role in my own way.
WW: So, you were cast as Griselda Walden in God’s Little Acre, but what was the process of actually being signed up like?
TL: It was a long, wild story that went on for months, full of ups and downs. At one point, the director had a heart attack—he had just married a beautiful young woman, Sarita from Spain, and I guess she was a little too much for him!
But something incredible happened early on. The actor I was supposed to read with didn’t show up, so Sidney Harmon stepped in and read with me instead. That turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened.
At that time, I hadn’t joined the Actors Studio yet, but I had a natural ability for very real, grounded acting. Sidney got so excited after our reading that I thought, I must have nailed this. But then everything was delayed because of the director’s heart attack. Meanwhile, I kept reading stories in the papers about other actresses in California who were supposedly being considered for the part. I felt like such an unknown by comparison.
But eventually, I got the screen test—and I got the part. To this day, it’s still my favorite film that I’ve ever been part of. The entire experience was incredible. We were even included in the Venice Film Festival, which was exciting, amazing, and so much fun. I’ve been so blessed, truly.
WW: You ended up going to Europe to make films like L’assedio di Siracusa (1960), The Warrior Empress (1960) and Garibaldi (1961). What was that experience like?
TL: Wonderful. I lived in Rome for a year and did a couple of films there. Then I went to Germany for another film, and after that, to France, where I worked on a couple more films. It was such an exciting time, traveling and working in Europe.
When I came back to the States, I got involved with the Actor’s Studio, which was an incredible experience. I studied with Lee Strasberg. His wife asked me to try out for the Studio, but I told her I didn’t want to—I just wanted to study with Lee. But she insisted, saying, “No, no, you have to.” So, I auditioned, got in and was completely mesmerized.
Lee was amazing. He was really like a giant father figure for me, and I think for so many of the women and girls he worked with. He was an incredible teacher, and it was such a great privilege to spend time learning from him.
WW: Television was next for you. Ultimately, was that experience something you enjoyed or would you have preferred to stay in film?
TL: Some of it I liked. I liked certain movies of the week. I liked drama. I thought of myself more in that vein. Also, I had never done a serious play, but I did end up doing Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, because the writer wanted to direct his own play. So, I did that in Columbus, Ohio, which is where he lived. There’s always been something happening.
WW: From 1964 to 1967, of course, you starred in Gilligan’s Island. Just as it’s true with anyone who’s been involved with James Bond, Superman, Batman or whatever it may be, on a personal level, is it meaningful at all that playing Ginger and being part of that show has become so iconic and will always be there as a part of pop culture history?
TL: I don’t really think of that part of it, but the fact is I am aware of it, because people write to me every other day and I have friends everywhere I go. A lot of people know me; they stop me on the street in the area I live. And it was a fun job, although I didn’t quite know what I was getting into. I was in a Broadway show at the time with Carol Burnett called Fade Out-Fade In, and I wasn’t sure about doing the series, but I was asked to do it. I replaced somebody in the pilot that they were not satisfied with.
WW: But it’s not something you’re comfortable talking about?
TL: I don’t know that I want to go into it all. I created the part [of Ginger], let’s put it that way. In the first month of shooting, the director was trying to direct me in a way that the casting director did not describe on the phone in terms of what I was supposed to play. So I was ready to quit at that point.
The head of CBS wanted to talk to me about that and I wanted to talk to him about it, too. So I told him that it wasn’t going to work the way this man was directing it, because you can’t go into people’s homes and play kind of nasty person dressed up in a beautiful gown and pretending to be a good person. I said I didn’t sign on to do that, because the casting director didn’t ask me if I could play that. What she asked me was whether or not I could do a Lucille Ball/Marilyn Monroe type of character. I said, “Sure,” so that’s the way I went out there, with that frame of mind. The head of CBS put his feet up on the desk and said, “I agree with you.”
I told him I’d read 12 pages about Lucille Ball in the New York Times Magazine section, and that you can’t have a nasty person going into people’s living rooms on a weekly basis. It’s nothing that I wanted to do for even six months—that’s how long a friend said it would last—let alone beyond that. And, of course, it’s gone on forever. And the fact that it’s lasted is good. I appreciate all of the people that like it. I get letters from fathers or sons saying they watched the show and have shown it to their little boy or little girl, and it just goes on and on and on. And that’s fine. I appreciate all of the people that write to me.
WW: That’s good to hear, because it is such a big part of your legacy one way or the other, and it lives on. But why is it something that you seem to have, in a sense, resisted over the years?
TL: My first film was a serious one and I never thought of myself as a comedian. I know some people think that I have that ability, but the point is, I’m a member of the Actor’s Studio, I’m a member of the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences—Gregory Peck signed my letter to get me in after I did God’s Little Acre. So, I thought of myself as a serious person who loved my field. I was a natural actor, but I thought of myself more along dramatic lines and just wanted to get back to that. After [Gilligan’s Island] was over, I continued to do dramatic things.
WW: Given all you’ve done, are there any particular highlights?
TL: I’ll tell you what stands out for me. I was out in California and went out for dinner with my daughter, who was really rushing to get back to the house, though I didn’t know why. When we got there, she presented me with an Easter basket. I looked down at the basket, back at her and I looked down again: there were two bibs in it. I didn’t want to infer something that wasn’t true and didn’t know what was going on. Then she said, “Mom, I’m having twins.”
WW: Oh, wow! That’s an incredible way to find out.
TL: I was so excited. When you have a child, you’re reborn. And when you have grandchildren, you’re reborn again. It’s like my daughter said, “Now you have to live another 40 years.” Well, I’m working on it [laughs].
WW: With this talk of being parents and grandparents, how did the experiences you talked and wrote about in Sunday inform you in terms of becoming a mother and grandmother?
TL: I had a wonderful childhood with my daughter. I read to her many books and just had so much fun raising her. She was an amazing child and an amazing woman, and I was a different parent. Obviously, Caprice didn’t want to go away to sleep away camp and didn’t actually go away until she went to college. When she did, she brought some of the childhood books with her that she loved. And I love children. I’m a school volunteer. Did you know that?
WW: No idea!
TL: I started volunteering in 1996, because I read that the reading levels were so low in New York when Giuliani was mayor. I went to a dinner at the UN and this woman came over who wanted to talk to me—actually, she said her husband wanted to talk to me, but he was too shy. And in the course of conversation, she mentioned she was going to join this group where you tutor children in the school system. I was fascinated by the idea and started doing that in 1996 until about 2015.
Then I had an accident on a jitney and was out of commission for a year. And by the time I was well and ready to go back, the organization had folded because no corporation would sponsor them anymore. And it was a horrible letdown for me psychologically, because I had become so entranced with doing that. It was the most important thing to me. And a way to give back to the children, because I didn’t have that in that and nobody ever read to me. It just made me so happy, and it’s been very difficult to get back in. But I am doing it now: once a week I work with two first graders. It’s my happiest day of the week.
WW: And it’s great you have that capacity for giving to young people, given your experience at Ardsley and that Sunday was perhaps a day of reprieve, but there wasn’t that kind of bond that you’re creating with these kids.
TL: It was the day that somebody might visit me. But sometimes they didn’t.
WW: Exactly. Which in some ways sounds like an elderly person in a senior center hoping their kid will show up to visit, and the disappointment when they didn’t.
TL: It’s actually painful when you say that; I get sort of a pain immediately, an uncomfortable feeling inside. But once I really got going with what I wanted to do, there was one teacher along the way at the Actor’s Studio, way before I met Lee Strasberg or did any film, who said to me, “You have to climb the stairs to get to the studio, but the way you run up those stairs is amazing.” What I realized is that I just couldn’t wait to get there to learn. I just loved to be part of it, and I found what I needed to be part of at an early moment.
Something in me knew when I left college that I wanted to study acting. I was happy, but didn’t realize I was bounding up the stairs with that enthusiasm. Obviously, I was a little bit different than some of the others that came to the class. I really wanted to be there. It was a place where I felt I belonged.
Facts about Tina Louise:
- Tina began her career as a fashion model
- She was born Tina Blacker
- The actress starred in the 1959 Western Day of the Outlaw
- Tina starred opposite Dean Martin in the 1968 Matt Helm film, The Wrecking Crew
- In 1975 she was one of the cast members of The Stepford Wives
- In 1987 she starred in the Robert Altman comedy O.C. and Stiggs
- Her co-star in Johnny Suede (1992) was Brad Pitt
Conversation
All comments are subject to our Community Guidelines. Woman's World does not endorse the opinions and views shared by our readers in our comment sections. Our comments section is a place where readers can engage in healthy, productive, lively, and respectful discussions. Offensive language, hate speech, personal attacks, and/or defamatory statements are not permitted. Advertising or spam is also prohibited.
