Hi Kate, thanks for taking the time to speak with Occhi Magazine. You’ve built a career that spans acting, writing, songwriting, and producing. Looking back, was there a moment when you realized storytelling would be the thread connecting everything you do?
Hi there. Thank you so much for your interest in chatting with me.
I’m going to be extremely honest and say… I don’t think I realized storytelling was the thread connecting everything I do until you asked the question! But you’re completely right. I have bounced around a lot within the storytelling realm. When I was a little kid, I used to write songs and poetry all the time. Then, when I saw my brother making a living at acting, I realized that it was something I wanted to try as well. When I went to theatre school for acting, I spent the bulk of my time there writing. When I went to school for writing, I really missed acting! And when I wrote my first feature film, I ended up revisiting my original love: songwriting. I have spent a lot of my life wondering if I should pick a lane, you know? Choose one path and take it. But if I look at my career as different branches of storytelling, I have done exactly that. So… thank you for the epiphany!
Who were your first real mentors—people who didn’t just encourage you, but challenged you—and what’s the most uncomfortable truth one of them told you that later proved essential?
I have been very lucky in the mentor department. One of my high school drama teachers, Angie Silverstein, gave me the confidence to pursue acting as a career, but she definitely made me work for it! It wasn’t until our third year of doing shows together that she took me aside and said: “You’re an actor. You’re a real actor!”
Jane Czarny, another devoted teacher of mine, pushed me to see my value as I was, not as I could be. It took me 35 years to fully hear her, but it was an essential lesson. I may not look like other actors, but there is only one me! When I go into an audition, remembering that it helps a great deal.
My dear friend (and accidental life coach), Michelle Giroux, is another mentor of mine. She all but forced me to apply to the National Theatre School (and the CFC many years later), even though I didn’t think I stood a chance.
To this day, if Michelle Giroux gives me advice — what to do, what to wear, where to live — I take it! My brother has been another significant mentor for me. He likes to pretend he isn’t supportive, but I’ve got his number. When I was younger, he told me to pursue any career other than acting. It sounds harsh, I know, but it was an attempt to protect me from the brutality of the industry, particularly for women. I interpreted his advice as “diversify!”. And thank goodness I did.
The most uncomfortable truth, though, came from my incredible acting professor at Queen’s University, Anne Hardcastle. I had just completed a scene in front of the class, and I loudly insulted my own performance, getting a big laugh from my classmates. Anne raised an eyebrow and said, “My my, aren’t we feeling self-indulgent today?” It stung, but after licking my wounds, I realized that my habit of being self-deprecating was in fact self-indulgence in disguise! That has really stuck with me. Acting is not about me – it’s about the work. Anne was witty, caring, intuitive, brilliant… and she didn’t stand for any bullsh*t!
You trained at Queen’s University and the National Theatre School before building a successful career in both acting and writing. What were some of the biggest lessons you learned early on that still guide you today?
At Queen’s, I learned to be brave and take risks, mainly thanks to two of my peers, Grahame Renyk and Peter Fulton. They directed me with patience and determination, nudging me out of my comfort zone. Before that, I had done a lot of “face acting,” but I was afraid to engage my whole body, fill up the space, and try new things. That has been an ongoing journey for me, but it all started at Queen’s. I also learned a lot of invaluable practical skills through the Queen’s drama program. The professors there were (and still are) the best of the best. (Shoutout to Judy Fisher and Tim Fort!)
The beauty of NTS was that it offered three years of intensive theatre training: voice, movement, singing, theatre history, playwriting, improv, mask, clown, tai chi, Alexander Technique, text analysis, and so much more. It allowed me to focus on acting full-time in one of the greatest cities in the world (Montreal, of course!) away from the professional pressures of Toronto. I learned to work collaboratively, take risks (I needed that lesson twice!), challenge dogma, and fully embrace a career in the arts.
My most memorable moment at NTS, however, came from voice coach and Interim Artistic Director, Janine Pearson. We were working on Shakespeare’s Richard III, and I was reading the scene where Elizabeth says goodbye to her young sons for the last time. I couldn’t figure out how to drop into the emotion of the scene. I was putting it on, not letting it in. Janine took my hands in hers and, as cheesy as it sounds, looked right into my soul. (The woman has a gift.) She maintained eye contact with me throughout the scene. Connection. For the first time, connection. I could feel years of buried British emotion bubbling up, and as I welled up, I think I said something like, “I don’t like this very much…” She gave me the most sympathetic smile and said, “I know…” but she didn’t let me off the hook. This was the first time I was able to tap into a character’s emotional experience. I can’t always access that place, but after working with Janine, I knew it was possible.
Another key experience for me at NTS was working with director David Latham. I loved his patience, thoughtfulness, preparedness, and kindness. He taught us about points of focus, which I still use to get out of my own way on stage or film. Having something external to focus on during a scene (other than the scene itself) keeps my brain busy and helps with nerves.
You’ve built a career across acting, screenwriting, and songwriting—fields that each demand a different kind of vulnerability. Which one exposes you the most?
Ooooh, another great question. I would say that acting exposes my insecurities the most, but screenwriting exposes my self. So far, professional songwriting doesn’t expose much because I’m so new to it that I don’t know what I don’t know!
Many fans know you from Stargate Atlantis, while newer audiences are discovering you through The Testaments. What has it been like introducing your work to an entirely new generation of viewers?
It’s been interesting playing a role in which I’m unrecognizable to previous audiences. I love it when a Degrassi fan suddenly realizes that Maya’s mom is now Becka’s mom, or a Stargate fan realizes that I’m definitely not 28 anymore. The new generation of viewers is meeting me as a mature mother who sacrifices everything for her child. On social media, people talk to me as a maternal figure. It’s really lovely, especially since this is my first TV role since becoming a mom in real life.
Mrs. Grove’s storyline is ultimately one of sacrifice, love, and resilience. What drew you to the character, and what did you find most challenging about bringing her journey to life?
For obvious reasons, there was a lot of secrecy surrounding the project, so I didn’t know anything about the character — even her name! — before shooting started. I got to discover Piper Grove (that’s her name!) as the season went on, just as the viewers did. I loved the fact that she didn’t fit in with the other wives (since her husband was a dentist and not a Commander) and that she had to work hard to maintain her status. This allowed me to bring my signature awkwardness to the character (I can’t help it!). Mrs. Grove’s true, deep love of her daughter also drew me to her. She did everything in her power to keep her daughter safe, but ultimately it wasn’t enough. When given the opportunity to sacrifice everything for Becka, she embraced it, because she knew it was the only way to save her.
It might sound strange, but the most challenging part of bringing Mrs. Grove to life was containing her joy. She is bursting with love and pride for her daughter. She is deeply grateful for her circumstances. But I had to remember to temper that joy with grief and fear. In Gilead, danger is always lurking, sometimes under your own roof.
In The Testaments, Mrs. Grove could have remained a supporting presence—but she becomes an emotional centre. When did you realise, “Oh, this character is carrying something bigger than the screen time suggests,” and how did you build that weight without overplaying it?
I found out quite late in the process that Mrs. Grove would become an emotional centre for Season 1. (As an actor, I hoped I might be living in denial, wearing designer shoes and talking about overcooked meat for a few seasons first!) The season arc was Shakespearean, though, wasn’t it? You could see it all unraveling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The writing was never predictable, but it was inevitable. The storytelling, in my opinion, was perfect. I am glad that I didn’t know about Mrs. Grove’s burden all the way through the season, because it allowed me to live in the moment as the character. We all live our lives not knowing what will come next; we find joy where we can; we complain about the minutiae; we avoid hard truths. I was able to do this as Mrs. Grove as well, which (I hope) added complexity to the character.
Were you surprised by how deeply audiences connected with Mrs. Grove? Why do you think her story has resonated so strongly with viewers?
In a way, I am not surprised, because the subject matter was so heart-wrenching: the love of a mother, the power of women, maternal sacrifice, the devastating consequences of abuse. I cried every single time I read episode 10. But I am pleasantly surprised that viewers connected with Mrs. Grove as an independent character, not just as an extension of Becka. I love that people are asking questions about her history, how much she knew, whether or not she was Becka’s biological mother, whether or not she would have supported Becka’s sexuality. Mattea and I had answers to all these questions, but viewers can draw their own conclusions!
What do you think audiences are actually responding to in Mrs. Grove—her choices, her restraint, her contradictions—and what do you hope they’re questioning about themselves when they watch her storyline unfold?
I think audiences are primarily responding to her sacrifice, because it’s one that they believe (or hope) they would make in her shoes. The relationship between Mrs. Grove and Becka taps into something primal. As Aunt Lydia so beautifully states, “…the bond between mother and child is sacred and unbreakable.” Many viewers have either experienced this bond…or they have mourned it.
I hope that viewers ask themselves what they would do (what they would really do) in Mrs. Grove’s shoes, and who they would be if they found themselves in Gilead (or a world that is morphing into Gilead). A rebel? A follower? An aunt? An eye? Would they stand up for the oppressed or try to blend in? Everything that happens in the show has happened in real life. What can we do to prevent it from happening again? I also hope that viewers question their definition of selflessness. What does it mean to truly put another person before yourself? How can we do this in small ways every day so that we make sure our world is nothing like Gilead?
In addition to acting, you’ve built an impressive career as a writer. Do you find that being a writer changes the way you approach a role as an actor?
Sometimes I find it difficult to turn off my writer brain when I’m acting, which can be a challenge for me (and sometimes for the director!). I find myself asking big picture questions, as opposed to viewing a scene through the specific perspective of the character. This can be a good thing too, though. It gives me a good sense of the story and where my character fits into that narrative. As an actor, I have a great deal of respect for writers. I know how many drafts they have written, how many notes they’ve received, how much time has gone into every single line. This means that I rarely switch up the dialogue without a discussion and I never paraphrase!
.
The Swearing Jar earned critical acclaim as both a stage play and a feature film. What have you learned about storytelling from working on both sides of the camera?
I had no idea how difficult it was to make a feature film in Canada! Seriously, every movie that gets made is a miracle. Our producer, Jane Loughman, was absolutely relentless in her pursuit of funding, support, cast, crew, publicity, distribution, all of it. It took five years to get it made, but she did it! And I’m very proud of the film. Gorgeous performances, beautiful direction by Lindsay MacKay, and a haunting score by Tim Williams.
I acted in the stage production of The Swearing Jar in New York, but by the time we made the film, I had aged out of the role! And I wasn’t able to play a supporting role as planned because I went into labour during the shoot. Whoops! (It was worth it.) So I was really just a writer on the film. I wasn’t on set much (because I was a brand new mom) but listening to the table read of the screenplay was one of the highlights of my entire career, both on and off camera. There is something indescribable about hearing your dream cast read your passion project. Adelaide Clemens seemed to effortlessly channel her character. Patrick J Adams was so charming and heartbreaking, and asked brilliant questions that made me dig even deeper into the relationship between the main characters. Douglas Smith took his role in a new direction that I absolutely loved. And Kathleen Turner? Come on. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor before immediately going home and re-watching Romancing the Stone and The War of the Roses.
Where can our readers find out more about you? ( website/social media links)
I’m trying out TikTok (@kateofthehewletts) and Instagram (@kateofthehewletts). My website is katehewlett.com.
Photography by Rick Roberts. Courtesy of Project Four
About Author
