At 67, Jamie Lee Curtis candidly reflects on how working with director Rob Reiner on Ghosts of Mississippi challenged Hollywood’s expectations, pushed her into a transformative dramatic role, and ultimately reshaped her career—an experience she now recalls with honesty, gratitude, and deep emotion.

At 67, Jamie Lee Curtis is no longer interested in polishing her legacy with vague compliments or carefully rehearsed nostalgia, and this week she finally chose to speak candidly about director Rob Reiner and their collaboration on Ghosts of Mississippi, the 1996 courtroom drama that quietly became one of the most consequential chapters of her career.

Speaking during a recent public appearance and in conversations with colleagues reflecting on her decades in Hollywood, Curtis revealed how working with Reiner reshaped her understanding of power, purpose, and risk in an industry that had long tried to confine her to a single image.

Set in Mississippi and released in December 1996, Ghosts of Mississippi told the story of the long-delayed prosecution of Byron De La Beckwith for the 1963 murder of civil rights leader Medgar Evers.

Curtis portrayed Myrlie Evers, the widow who spent decades waiting for justice, a role that marked a dramatic departure from the action-driven and genre-defining performances that had made her famous in films like Halloween, Trading Places, and True Lies.

Rob Reiner, already celebrated for directing Stand by Me, The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally… and A Few Good Men, approached the film with a seriousness that Curtis says immediately changed the atmosphere on set.

“He wasn’t interested in spectacle,” Curtis recalled.

“Rob was interested in responsibility.

He kept saying, ‘We’re borrowing real pain.

We don’t get to be casual with it.

’” According to Curtis, that philosophy defined every day of filming in Jackson, Mississippi, where the production unfolded under the weight of history and community scrutiny.

She described Reiner as calm but immovable, a director who listened carefully and then made decisions without apology, even when they were uncomfortable or unpopular.

Curtis admitted that when Reiner first approached her about the role, she hesitated.

At the time, she was still widely associated with physical bravado and comedic sharpness rather than restrained, grief-driven drama.

“I told him, ‘People don’t see me that way,’” she said.

Reiner’s response, according to Curtis, was immediate and blunt: “That’s not my problem.

That’s theirs.

” It was a moment she now credits as pivotal, not only because it led to one of her most respected performances, but because it challenged the unspoken rules that often govern casting decisions for women in Hollywood.

On set, Curtis observed how Reiner managed a cast that included Alec Baldwin, Whoopi Goldberg, and James Woods, balancing strong personalities while keeping the focus on the story rather than egos.

She recalled a moment during a courtroom scene when emotions ran high and tension threatened to derail the day’s work.

Reiner reportedly paused the production, addressed the room quietly, and reminded everyone why the film existed.

“This isn’t about winning an argument,” he said at the time.

“It’s about telling the truth without flinching.

” Curtis says that line stayed with her long after the cameras stopped rolling.

Although Ghosts of Mississippi did not dominate the box office, its impact was lasting.

The film earned praise for its seriousness and helped reposition Curtis as a dramatic actress capable of carrying emotionally complex material.

At 67, she now sees that moment as a turning point that eventually made later roles possible, from Knives Out to her Academy Award–winning performance in Everything Everywhere All at Once.

“Rob didn’t give me a hit,” she said.

“He gave me credibility when I needed it most.”

Curtis also addressed the broader context of Reiner’s career, acknowledging his outspoken political activism and his willingness to take public stances that have sometimes drawn controversy.

She described him as “fearless to the point of discomfort,” adding that his refusal to separate art from conscience was something she didn’t fully appreciate until much later.

“When you’re younger, you just want to work,” she said.

“When you’re older, you realize who let you work with dignity.”

Now, decades after that Mississippi courtroom was recreated on film, Curtis says speaking openly about Reiner feels less like revelation and more like closure.

“At this age, you stop protecting myths,” she reflected.

“You tell the truth so the next generation understands that sometimes the quiet collaborations are the ones that matter most.”