PLAYBILL ON OPENING NIGHT: A Life in the Theatre — Two for the Show

By Harry Haun
13 Oct 2010

Cast member Patrick Stewart; guests Alan Cumming, Sutton Foster, Julie Schafler and Jim Dale
Cast member Patrick Stewart; guests Alan Cumming, Sutton Foster, Julie Schafler and Jim Dale
Photo by Joseph Marzullo/WENN

Meet the first-nighters of the new Broadway production of David Mamet's A Life in the Theatre, starring T.R. Knight and Patrick Stewart.

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The crew outnumbers the cast a good fourfold in A Life in the Theatre, which opened Oct. 12 at the Gerald Schoenfeld, but they never emerge from the shadows — dark, anonymous silhouettes darting purposefully about the stage, shoving scenery, replacing props, doing everything that's required to make sure the show goes on.

It's a world unto itself, and David Mamet entered it first as an actor. It shows, with some brilliance, in the fun and affection he has lavished on this play, still the closest he has ever — and probably will ever — come to a valentine.



Center-stage are a pair of opposites — Robert and John — actors toiling and fretting and strutting their hour and a half on stage, backstage, beside the stage, in every configuration imaginable. Robert the elder (Patrick Stewart) is grandly mannered from years of trodding the boards and given to a mentoring pose (one of many) — particularly toward John the younger (T.R. Knight), whether the latter likes it or not. Mostly, it's "not," but he lets the old boy prattle on, picking the tips he wants.

Their interplay is like a tense game of tennis, slammed out in the sort of staccato shorthand for which Mamet is famous. The self-absorption of each is visible as they carry on the conventions of conversation in their dressing room or doing every-actor-for-himself on stage. They are seen, by quick turns, rocking choppily at sea in a lifeboat, or waving a tentatively attached flag at the barricades, or grappling desperately and hilariously for the proper medical nomenclature in a surgery scene.

Sir Patrick, who rarely gets a clear shot at comedy, employs his 'r'-rolling, sonorous voice to frequently riotous effect here, and Knight, working on his own wave-length, returns the serve, full of pep and puppy-like energy — a novice with a lot to learn.

Their much-taxed voices became A Major Issue at the after-party which was held at the elegant and expansive Brasserie 8½ on West 57th. The boom-box voice of Sir Patrick was short-circuiting a bit, and word went out to the press that one question per outlet would be permitted at the press conference. As this played out, only the three TV interviewers got to speak. Everyone else had to fend for themselves.

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T.R. Knight
Photo by Joseph Marzullo/WENN

Sir Patrick's "grilling" lasted a total of two minutes and 12 seconds — easily an opening-night record — plus four little words that the completely ignored print medium was able to extract amid the confusion as he exited the room: How many costume changes do you have? "I think, 22." [The most quoted number was 26.] And what was that like backstage. "Intense," Sir Patrick said succinctly with a smile.

He spoke in a slower, softer, much-less charged voice than he used on stage, as if he was conserving strength for when he needed it. The tale of the real-life allergist from The Tale of the Allergist's Wife, Barry Kohn, was that he had "a slight infection on his vocal cords" and Knight was on the mend from a sore throat.

When Sir Patrick was asked what it was he liked about the play, he advanced two answers: "That I am getting to do a David Mamet play on Broadway, Number One, and that the play seems to be a pictograph of my last 52 years in the theatre."

This was not his first Life in the Theatre. He had premiered the play in London at the West End's Apollo five years ago, opposite Joshua Jackson, so one reporter asked what it was like to revisit the play now with T. R. Knight.

That produced: "It has been marvelous because this is not a case of repeating something that has happened before but a completely new beginning, a reexamination of the script, and that's largely due to Neil Pepe, who led us in that direction, and we had the author with us for a few days, too. Almost everything is changed from what I remember. In fact, I hardly remember anything from before."

Of director Pepe, Sir Patrick said, "The first and most important thing is that this is a man who knows David Mamet and knows his work — in fact, if I may say it? — was a student of David's, which I thought was fantastic. So when David was with us for three days, it was thrilling — and then David went, but we sorta continued to have David in the room, and that was a great bonus to me and to T.R. Knight. We told too many anecdotes."

Pepe picked up the ball: "The play is so much about rehearsing the play so you would stop the scene and then talk about the scene, and it was exactly like the scene you'd just done so it was like having a mirror. But it was an amazing process for me because, between Patrick and David, there were so many incredible stories. Patrick was telling us about his 16 years at RSC and all of the various great actors that he has worked with in plays and all the Shakespeares. It was really an unbelievable process that I thought was directly related to the play we were working on."

Knight, likewise, praised Pepe but couldn't help admitting, "It's awkward because he's standing right here, but . . . it's just great when you've got a good director and kind of a gentle guy. He creates a safe work environment, which is really important, so you can try many things. You can make a fool out of yourself, and you can figure out what works and what doesn't work, and so it's great to have that experience."

T.R. Knight discusses the rehearsal process:

 

 

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