TV is sort of the only way to go for an actress my age to make a

When Jessica Lange said, “TV is sort of the only way to go for an actress my age to make a decent salary; with independent films, you just can’t,” she spoke not with bitterness, but with clarity — a truth sharpened by experience in a world that too often forgets the women who helped build it. Her words carry the wisdom of endurance, the voice of one who has walked through the bright fire of fame and emerged with eyes unclouded by illusion. In her confession lies a commentary not merely on the entertainment industry, but on the value of maturity, the aging of the artist, and the cruel indifference of commerce to the soul’s evolution.

To understand her meaning, one must look beyond money and see the deeper wound. In the world of cinema, youth is currency; time, the silent thief. For decades, the camera has adored the faces of young women, only to turn away when age gives them lines of strength instead of smoothness. Lange, once the golden muse of film, found herself — like many before her — confronting the invisible wall of ageism, that ancient prejudice dressed in modern glamour. Her quote is not a complaint, but a diagnosis: a revelation of how the industry worships novelty while fearing depth.

Yet there is power in her choice of refuge. By saying that television is “the only way to go,” Lange acknowledges a transformation in the art of storytelling itself. Once regarded as lesser than cinema, television had, by her time, become a new sanctuary — a space where complex stories and older characters could breathe again. The small screen became, paradoxically, a vast arena for reinvention. In shows like American Horror Story, Lange found not decline, but resurrection — proof that an artist’s worth is not bound to the youth of her body, but to the fire of her craft.

This truth echoes across history. Consider Sophocles, the playwright of ancient Greece, who in his later years wrote Oedipus at Colonus, a work of serenity and insight beyond his younger triumphs. Age had not dimmed his genius; it had deepened it. Yet how many artists, like Lange, must leave the temple of their youth to find new ground where their voices will still be heard? The world, enamored with the bright flame of beginnings, often forgets that the most enduring light comes from embers — steady, golden, and wise.

The origin of Lange’s quote lies in her reflections on the changing landscape of film and television — and on her own passage from ingénue to matriarch. Having worked in both Hollywood and the world of independent film, she had seen firsthand how the opportunities for women narrowed with age. Her words carry the weary truth that art and economics often clash, that talent alone does not guarantee livelihood. Yet they also carry defiance — a subtle victory in the act of adaptation. To choose television, to claim a new medium, is to refuse silence.

In her statement, there is also a larger parable for all who age in professions that worship the young. She teaches us that when one door closes, the wise do not linger at the threshold; they build a new house. In a culture that equates worth with novelty, the true artist must be both creator and survivor, always finding new forms to contain her spirit. Jessica Lange’s move from the silver screen to the glowing hearth of television mirrors the journey of anyone who learns to transform limitation into possibility.

Let this, then, be the lesson: do not mourn the fading of one light, for it may only mean you are meant to shine elsewhere. The world will change its fashions, its markets, its obsessions — but those who remain faithful to their craft will find new paths to purpose. Whether through art, labor, or love, renewal belongs to those who dare to begin again. Age, in truth, is not the end of beauty; it is the beginning of wisdom.

So, when you find yourself cast aside by the shifting winds of your time, remember Jessica Lange’s quiet courage. Like her, seek not pity, but reinvention. The soul that refuses to fade will always find a new stage, a new audience, and a new song to sing. For though the world may value youth, eternity belongs to those who endure.