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Mira Sorvino has played all sorts of roles in almost two decades as an actress—everything from a prostitute in an Oscar-winning performance in 1995's Mighty Aphrodite to a brilliant entomologist in the horror flick Mimic, from a ditzy blonde in the hilarious Romy and Michele's High School Reunion to a convincing turn as Marilyn Monroe in a made-for-TV biopic.

But her most recent role, as an abused wife trying to make better choices in Like Dandelion Dust, has been by far her most challenging, she tells CT. The film, based on the novel of the same title by Christian author Karen Kingsbury, opens in limited release this Friday.

With Barry Pepper in a scene from the film

Sorvino, 42, plays the role of Wendy, whose husband Rip (Barry Pepper) is serving seven years in prison for domestic abuse. When he's released, Wendy tells Rip that she learned she was pregnant soon after he entered jail, and that she decided to give up the baby, a boy, for adoption. Rip decides he wants custody—and is granted just that by a court ruling, meaning that the boy, the now six-year-old Joey, will be torn from his adoptive parents (Cole Hauser and Kate Levering), the only mom and dad he's ever known. It's a heart-rending story in which there are no real heroes or villains, just a handful of ordinary people trying to do the right thing—for themselves, and especially for Joey.

A Christian herself, Sorvino says it's a tale rife with biblical themes—confession, forgiveness, redemption, unconditional love … and a very clear nod to the passage about Solomon's judgment about the fate of the baby claimed by two mothers (1 Kings 3:16-28). Solomon ordered the child to be cut in half with a sword, forcing the real mother to be willing to give up her son so that he might live. In Like Dandelion Dust, the boy Joey finds himself, metaphorically, in a similar plight: How will he be "divided" between these two desperate families?

The film is inspiring but gut-wrenching. Was it a hard role for you to play?

Very. It was something I took home with me every night and then tried to shake off. Some of the scenes were so painful. I act in the Stanislavski system, where you have to feel what your character's feeling. In the very first scene, you see my character in the stairwell, cringing, hiding her broken arm from the police. It's such a tiny blip on the radar screen of the movie, but I was sitting there maybe four hours while we shot that scene, at this dismal place of absolute despair. And certainly any scenes involving the child and her love for the child, and her feeling of powerlessness to prevent bad things happening to the child, it was painful and sad. I don't want to give anything away, but my character ultimately has a pivotal role in the way things unfold, and it's the first time in her life that she's really had any position of strength. I think she does a very brave and noble and selfless thing at the end.

On one hand, Wendy has inner strength, but on the other, some women will watch this movie and say, "Leave the loser! He's abusive!" She's very conflicted.

Yes, she's a flawed human being; she is not the picture of health. Sadly, she's in a position that's fairly common: In most countries, women are subject to physical, verbal, sexual, and psychological abuse. Unfortunately, she's in an abusive marriage and she somehow does not or cannot get out of it. When I watch the first half of the movie, I sometimes get disgusted with her. I'm like, "Oh please, you're such a victim!", and I get angry at myself. But then there's an evolution in her. And although she doesn't necessarily have the strength to do some of the most ordinary things for herself, she still has the strength to be altruistic for someone else and do what's the best for them—which makes the picture about a kind of forgiveness and redemption.

Totally.

Wendy has always felt terrible about the fact that she gave the baby up for adoption. I think it probably was a decent choice to make the time, because her husband was in prison. She wasn't making money; she wanted to provide the child with a better life. But she's always regretted that decision because she's always missed that little boy. So she gets this second chance via her husband when he gets out of prison. He forgave her for giving the boy away because he feels guilt for how he acted towards her. So, by forgiving him rather than leaving him, she's kind of returning the favor and giving him the grace of one last second chance—or fifteenth chance. You look at her and wonder, What's going to happen to her in the future? Is she going to get beaten to death one day? Or is he going to get better? Is there hope for this couple? Maybe there's hope, but it's a question mark, because we're dealing in realities here, not fairytales.

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Like Dandelion Dust	Printer view
A heart-wrenching adaptation of Karen Kingsbury's bestseller. PLUS: Mira Sorvino interview.