Kathy Bates at 76: What I Know Now

How she lost weight, gained confidence and found a perfect new gig as the lead in a ‘Matlock’ reboot

As told to

Margy Rochlin,

AARP

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Published September 27, 2024

The Oscar-winning actress talks about her decades-long journey in Hollywood and why the “Matlock” reboot convinced her not to retire just yet.

Kathy Bates, 76, first popped into the public consciousness in the 1980s as a stage actress in New York, winning an Obie award for Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune in 1988. Hollywood took notice, and she swiftly ascended to fame for her film work, winning an Oscar for best actress for playing Annie Wilkes in Misery.

She had notable roles in such movies as Fried Green Tomatoes and Dolores Claiborne and embraced TV as well, snagging Emmys for her work in Two and a Half Men and later in several seasons of American Horror Story, a gig she considers career-saving as work had started to dry up for her.

Despite that, another slow career period ensued. Then, about six years ago, she embarked on a steady diet. Over time, she went from 245 pounds to 145, and, she says, basically transformed her life and luck again. Now Bates stars in the new CBS series Matlock as Madeline Matlock, a once-retired attorney who returns to the legal world and uses a benignly maternal manner to conceal the fact that she’s the smartest person in the room. She recently spoke to AARP for the October/November issue of AARP The Magazine.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Make every day a success

I grew up in Memphis with older parents — my father was born in 1900 — and I lived a very sheltered life. And I remember my father asking me, because he was concerned that I wanted to play the guitar and sing and do all of these artistic things, “Aren’t you going to make a success of yourself?” I was very young and said, “I just want to make every day a success. That’s as far as I can go.”

Honor your parents’ sacrifice

I’ve struggled with the fact that had I not been born, they would have had a happier retirement, instead of me being a millstone around their neck for 18 years. We had a hard time relating to each other, especially during the ’60s, and my father had to keep working in order to send me to a rather expensive university. But if he hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be talking to you.

A professor’s best advice

I knew I could act when I was in high school. But when I decided to go to Southern Methodist University, I didn’t know what I was doing. At the orientation the speaker for the humanities school literally said, “You’re in the wrong school. You’re supposed to be in the art school. Go down the hall. Here’s where you’re going to begin your life’s work.”

Let Lady Luck lead you

SMU had just created a proper conservatory for acting, and Bob Hope had just given us a theater. So it was a magical time to be there. Then a friend I made there wrote a play, Vanities, which ran off-Broadway and gave me my start in theater. Warren Beatty came to see us one night and he later introduced me to Dustin Hoffman. Years later, the [screenwriter] William Goldman [Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, All the President’s Men] came to see me in a different play. And they were casting Misery, so he recommended me to the director. I got my role in Misery. I’ve been lucky, but all of those stepping stones began at SMU.

Megafans are people too

To my mind [Annie Wilkes of Misery] wasn’t a villain. She was a real woman. I can become obsessed about a certain musician or about a certain subject. To me that was her fulfillment, her life. That’s what brought her joy. I don’t think she regarded herself as a murderer. I think she regarded herself as an angel of mercy.

Role model for the ages

The [late] actress Jessica Tandy’s work was her life force, and I’m the same. I’m not married; I don’t have children. My work is what I have. My work is my family. And her passion for that really rubbed off on me, her professionalism. The way she delved into a script. And her integrity. I also remember standing with her and Dianne Wiest after I won my Oscar for Misery, all three of us in our gowns, and just jumping up and down like little girls. There was so much joy in her, that raucous laugh. She’s been a real beacon.

Character studies

Reality television is interesting to me because you get to see people living and behaving in ways that are real and quirky. You think, “Oh, that will be interesting to use in a character!” For a while I was hooked on Dr. Phil. I don’t know if I offended him or not, but I was on his show and told him that a lot of times I’d watch it just to study people’s mannerisms and body language.

Find your path

In 2012 the series I was in, Harry’s Law, was canceled. I was diagnosed with breast cancer that summer, a double whammy. And I was very, very heavy. I just thought, I don’t know that I have any future as an actor, and maybe no future at all as a human being. I had seen my friend Jessica Lange on the first season of American Horror Story, and I thought the quality of the work was so good. I said to her, “Can you set up a meeting with me and [show creator ] Ryan [Murphy]?” I did meet with him, and he pitched this character of Madame Delphine LaLaurie, who was a real person who lived in New Orleans in the 1830s. It was like jumping into a repertory company. For the first time in a long time, I felt excitement. I felt reawakened. Ryan brought me back to life. He gave me wonderful roles in his show and four years of real delight. I owe a lot to him.

Eating mindfully

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with diabetes. It scared the crap out of me. So I decided I was going to finally do something about my weight. I was at 245 pounds. Over a period of about six years, I lost 80 pounds. There’s something in the brain that sends a message to our stomachs when we’re hungry, then you eat. Then after 10, 15, 20 minutes, depending on how fast you eat, another message has been sent from your brain saying you’ve had enough. I was used to eating a lot fast and eating the wrong things. But I just started pushing my plate away. I got my diabetes under control, then I lost the last 20 pounds with Ozempic. I’m down to 145. I always joke that I lost a Romanian gymnast.

The freedom of losing weight

I feel like the confluence of Matlock and this new weight I’m at isn’t just serendipity. I wouldn’t have been able to withstand the long hours and the discipline of learning lines that a series requires. I can tuck in my shirts and close my jackets on set. I can stand all day and move in ways that were previously restricted by my weight. I was in Paris a few years ago, and I couldn’t make it half a block without having to stop and breathe. I know it’s hackneyed, but for the first time in my life, I feel free of the sorrow and the burden — no pun intended — of dealing with being a woman who can’t move and breathe. If you are overweight, you are dismissed.

Fighting ageism, on- and off-screen

Someone told me an anecdote about a famous actress being called in front of the muckety-mucks that ran the studio and they told her, because she’d just turned 29, “This will be your last movie.” Women constantly fight that ageism, and I’ve been very aware that the page has turned for many of us older folks. That’s why I was so drawn to this role of Maddie in Matlock: It was written for a woman my age. And that kind of opportunity rarely comes along in Hollywood. But they created this magnificent character who is a driven, smart, funny, complicated older woman, so I can use all the things I’ve learned over the last 50 years in one character.

Zipping it, sometimes

Many of us who came into our careers in the ’70s and ’80s and ’90s had very salty lives and expressions. It was sort of a free-for-all. So it’s been a bit of a learning curve learning how to keep my mouth shut, think before I speak, so I don’t offend anyone on set. We had an HR meeting at the beginning of shooting Matlock. I slip up all the time, but I really try! [Laughs.]

Finally being me

At one point I began to feel that I needed to be something I wasn’t, this ballsy, funny creature — that being me wasn’t enough. But that’s changed a lot over the last few years. Age has given me confidence, as has the imposed isolation during the pandemic. It was as though the waters receded and all of the stones and things that were underneath — the problems that I hadn’t dealt with — I suddenly had to face. And I did.