Ellen Burstyn Chats About EGOT Dreams, Her Poetry Book, and Why ‘The Exorcist’ Is ‘Enough Already’

When I asked Ellen Burstyn what she’d do with a Grammy, she actually stood up, shuffled over to a massive bookshelf, and dragged her iPad into view on a Zoom call. “Let’s take a little tour,” she said, her voice warm but peppered with that dry, almost mischievous humor she’s known for.

She moved the camera from a cozy living‑room sofa to a study that looks more like a shrine. Rows of statues, plaques, and certificates line the walls. “There’s the Emmy, the Tony, the Golden Lion, the Oscar and—well—another Emmy,” she recited, pointing to the gleaming metal faces as if naming old friends.

“And then there are the nominations,” she added, tapping a wall that seemed to be bursting with paperwork. I joked that the Grammy would be the smallest of the lot, and she laughed, “Yeah, it’ll fit,” she replied, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was the first time anyone had ever seen that particular shelf, she confessed, “Nobody asked before.”

It turns out that shelf holds the key to a quest most actors only hear about in whispers: the EGOT. Burstyn snagged an Oscar for Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore and a Tony for Same Time, Next Year in 1975, then later picked up Emmys for episodes of Law & Order: SVU (2009) and Political Animals (2013). Just last September she accepted the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement at Venice, where she even played Marilyn Monroe in a short film. One letter—G for Grammy—remains.

Enter her latest passion project: Poetry Says It Better: Poems to Help You Wake Up, a curated collection of verses that have carried her through nearly nine decades. From Millay to Rumi, she reads the entire audiobook herself—over five hours of her own voice—and the effort earned a Kirkus Star and an Earphones Award. The Recording Academy has taken note, making the book a contender for the Grammy for Best Spoken Word Album.

If that Grammy materializes, Burstyn, who turns 94 this December, would become the oldest person ever to achieve an EGOT, surpassing John Gielgud’s record at 87. She would also join a very short list of women—Helen Hayes, Rita Moreno, Audrey Hepburn, Whoopi Goldberg, Jennifer Hudson and Viola Davis—to have collected all four major U.S. entertainment awards.

She admits she wasn’t the one who sparked the idea. “My granddaughter said, ‘Grandma, you’re only one award away from an EGOT. Go for it!’” Burstyn recalled, chuckling. “I don’t know how you ‘go for it,’ but it’s thrilling.” She’s already halfway there, and the prospect of a Grammy feels like a pleasant surprise rather than a career necessity.

When I tried to steer the conversation back to her film work, she quickly pivoted to “The Exorcist.” The 1973 horror classic that made her name synonymous with terror, she said, “I’m over it. It’s enough already.” She’s been asked about that role countless times—perhaps more often than about her recent accolades—but today she seemed genuinely relieved to be moving past the haunting memories.

Poetry, on the other hand, remains a well‑kept sanctuary. When I asked why those verses mattered, she didn’t offer a tidy explanation. Instead, she recited William Ernest Henley’s “Invictus” from memory, eyes locked on the camera. “Reading that in high school gave me a kind of confidence, a sense that the darkness wouldn’t last forever,” she said, her voice softening. “That’s what started my love for poetry.”

She also reflected on her long‑standing belief that there’s no such thing as being nervous on stage—only preparation. Her first Broadway audition in 1957 landed her the lead in “Fair Game,” but it was studying with Lee Strasberg that taught her that raw talent alone isn’t enough. Today, as co‑president of the Actors Studio, she still offers the same advice she once received: “A creative act comes from inside, you have to trust it.”

In short, Ellen Burstyn is at once a living archive of Hollywood history and a vibrant, still‑curious artist. Whether she ends up with that Grammy on her shelf or not, she’s already proven that the drive to explore, to love poetry, and to keep saying “enough” when needed, is the real award.