Rachel Cooke managed to swing a face to face with Debra Winger for the Guardian, who in addition to her flyspeck of a role in Jonathan Demme's Rachel Getting Married, has published a book, Undiscovered, described by Cooke as "a collection of brief essays and poems with illustrations of doors and windows by her friend, the famous tightrope walker Philippe Petit"--the Man on Wire guy. "I'm allergic to chapters," Winger told Cooke "They give me hives. I wanted doors and portals to illustrate the idea of transformations. I showed Philippe the old doors I collect - I keep them in my barn - and he took out his journal, and it was filled with drawings of doors. So that was it." The book has turned into a hit on the basis of word of mouth, a development that is very pleasing to Winger, whose issues with the bullshit connected to fame surfaced when she was encouraged to promote it. "I wanted to put it out under a pseudonym, but they said: are you fucking nuts? I tried going on The View, and the last time I experienced anything like that was when I was a child, and I got caught in a rip tide, and the lifeguard was yelling 'just relax!' Everyone's talking on top of each other, and it's humiliating, and I have to suffer the whole 'where have you been?' thing - as if the person asking me has been at the center of the universe all this time, and I just haven't checked in."

Of course, a lot of people wonder where Winger--who has spent a lot of the time in recent years tending to her farm in upstate New York with her husband, the actor Arliss Howard (who directed her in the 2002 movie Big Bad Love)--has been because they miss watching her in movies. It's gratifying to hear that Winger would have no objections to doing more work in movies if she could be spared the bullshit, and bewildering to hear that her appearance in Rachel Getting Married hasn't led to a spate of offers. (Though it could be that most directors assume that anyone who gets her to work for him must know the secret handshake that it takes to get her to say yes. Demme was one of those who only managed to summon up the courage to approach her after having come to terms with his assumption that she'd say no.) But Winger's name has also taken on this second life as a catch phrase for the hard time that even greatly gifted actresses have getting treated with respect, let alone offered the roles they deserve. It's fascinating to hear that she is, to put it gently, as ambivalent about this as she is about anything else. The sense that Winger might be a symbol of something gelled after Rosanna Arquette's 2001 documentary Searching for Debra Winger. "I was interviewed for it when it was called something else," she recalls, "and I said to Rosanna at the time, this is your question. I had no idea what she planned on calling the film, and she made me the poster child for something I was not talking about. I didn't give a shit [about what Hollywood was going to do to me]. I was just tired of it." With regard to the scarcity of good roles for actresses, Winger herself would rather address practical issues, such as her observation that "women don't write enough. Because who do they expect to write these roles? Men?"

One thing that Winger has going for her is that, at 53, she still has an expressive kisser, in contrast to, as she delicately puts it, "those boiled faces!" On the other hand, "I have a movie out now and I can't bear to watch it. I see myself up there, and it's not normal to scrutinise your own face on a screen this big; it's like opening a vein. So I do have some compassion for Nicole Kidman, or whoever, who has obviously looked at her face and sort of dissected it, like it's a thing." It's okay, honey, you don't have to add "or whoever" after you say "Nicole Kidman." At film festivals, "the celebrities are dragging their movies in, going 'look at this!' instead of the movie being the thing, and they're just there to support it. It's a case of: 'Look at my dress, at my hair, at my face and ... oh, by the way, there's a movie here, too!' I have this character in my head. She keeps appearing places: on trains, in the city, on the highway. I see her out there. She is heroic, but not like any hero we've ever seen. Society makes women of a certain age invisible. It's convenient. Remember our mothers? How inconvenient they were to us? It's like that, on a grand scale. In the early part of my life I carried the flame for fiery women: perky women who were not dumb. And now I feel like I could be the woman to play this role: the invisible woman." So you're saying that you would play it if only somebody would write it? "As you know, I've long been ambivalent about the whole movie star thing. But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't like to, uh ... work."