Comedy to break the heart

Judd Hirsch and the cast of Art discuss the play, the production, and the serious challenge of laughter.

by Robert von Stein Redick

Oscar-nominated, Tony- and Emmy-winning Actor Judd Hirsch directed plays before taking his first acting job, in 1962. His numerous stage appearances since include the Broadway debut of Neil Simon's Barefoot in the Park and Chapter Two and the national and London productions of Art. His film credits include Ordinary People, Serpico, and Deconstructing Harry. Millions of Americans first made his acquaintance through the classic television series Taxi. Directing Art, Hirsch tells us, was the next logical step for him after playing in it, allowing him to express something that "maybe I always wanted to - even in the plays I did, even in the ones I saw."

I caught up with Hirsch between rehearsals in Kittery last week. We discussed the Art phenomenon: why actors adore the play, why it is being produced in 20 languages in countries all over the world, and sweeping up prizes everywhere it goes.

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Read our review of Art

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We were fortunate enough to be joined by the cast of Art. William Atherton (Serge) played the one non-ghostly villain in Ghostbusters; on Broadway, he starred in The Caine Mutiny Court Martial, which earned him a Tony nomination. David Dukes (Marc) appeared in the Broadway productions of Amadeus and M. Butterfly and the recent film Gods and Monsters. Jack Willis (Yvan) played the same part in the Broadway edition and national tour of Art; he has supporting roles in the films The Cradle Will Rock and The Talented Mr. Ripley.

THE PORTLAND PHOENIX: What do you like in this play? What attracts you?

JUDD HIRSCH: The fact that it's a comedy that's also a drama. And there aren't too many. In this one, there's so much you can get truly involved with at the level of drama - and the better the drama, the funnier it is. You get plays with a lot of funny lines. Neil Simon kind of plays. And you always try to do comedy as seriously as possible. But this play demands it. Its so poignant and so true that it's automatically exciting.

WILLIAM ATHERTON: I'd never seen it before and I got this call from the production company. I read it and thought, God, this is a lovely thing.

JH: The thing about this play is that it's an actors' play. So that the changes that come up, the values that you get are really what the three people, whoever they are, have to bring to the play. Also, the author conveniently left out everything about the characters. No descriptions, no background, not a word! Not even a word about how old they are. [leans forward, points] A good play never has to do that. It never has to be timely either, because then you run the risk of being untimely when it's, you know, 10 or 15 years old. This play, even though it supposedly takes place in Paris, need not be anywhere. We do say France because in a way we're paying homage to the author's wish . . . and if you want to think of these people as French you can, but there's nothing to substantiate how French they are. In fact she mentions people in their lives - for Marc it's a lady named Paula. Never ever once says they're married. So the actor can assume [counts on fingers]: long-time girlfriend, live-in person, person he's enamored with and maybe they don't live together [laughs]. Anything, you know? `Cause what she's really saying is, "The canvas is white and we can write whatever we want on it." It's a gift. And people are doing it differently all over the world.

TPP: So in this production, who approached whom about your directorship?

JH: It was kind of a mutual thing that happened. I was inquiring about where they were playing [Art] because I wanted to suggest to some of my friends that they go for it. And one of them said, "Hey, they're doing it in Maine." So I called up . . . and they said, "Do you want to be in it?" I said no, that the only way I wanted to do it was as a director. And then I thought, "Now wait a minute, I could get him, I could get . . . ." [laughs] And that's enough to turn me on, you know? Because I've seen the play, I've been in the play, but there's no way you're going to be able to think about this play if you're in it again. Only if you stand back and see this thing come right out at you, and you say, "It's true! The best people that you can get to play these parts will bring a whole new play to you." It's a living organism. And it's also rather new.

TPP: Did you want to be directing right now?

JH: It's more that . . . a seed gets planted somehow, and this is one of the ways. I don't think anyone can really make up their mind and say, "Now I'm going to be a director." I just thought this would be something that I have a good feeling about and probably can express something by. And maybe always wanted to. Even in plays I was in. Even in the ones that I saw.

The other thing is, it's a private play. The play takes place between three guys, and nobody ever heard it. They're never in a public place. Nobody ever comes out and does a routine to explain anything. We just simply part the curtain and say, "Hey! What's going on in there? What is this - somebody's apartment? Why are they talking that way?" And we don't know what's happened before the play started. [points emphatically] Good writing - not to know what's happened before the play starts is good play writing! Because then we [gestures at actors] get a chance to lay out the facts.

TPP: And it opens with . . .

JH: Three guys with no last names. Known each other for 15 years. They say they're friends - close, close friends - and that's pretty much it. And yet they'll tell you in the minutest fashion what they do for a living. A dermatologist - how do you act dermatologist? An aeronautical engineer? How do you do that? A stationary salesman - I mean, what? [laughs] It's almost totally unimportant, except to position them for an audience to see them. That's all it is.

TPP: But you could argue that the first confrontation in the play is as important as anything that ever happens. And it's almost over by the time the lights come up. That moment when Marc sees the canvas, and Serge sees him see . . .

DAVID DUKES: It's that event that's the beginning of the avalanche of this play. The first loose rock.

TPP: There's a stage direction at that moment we were describing, she writes that they share "a range of wordless emotions" and "indefinable unease." How do you work consciously with that sort of thing?

JH: Some stage directions you just simply have to throw away. I've seen Death of a Salesman on a rotating stage. I've seen it with a tree growing through the house. And I've seen the good old Kazan production where everything's just a flat-out house with pieces of the cheapest stuff you've ever seen in your life. Which one works? Depends how they do it.

People come along and impose their own stuff on plays, and it shows. I saw a production of [Tennessee Williams'] Summer and Smoke done by the English where I thought I would just simply get up and start shouting until they pulled the curtain down. [laughter] The only thing I could think was, "That's not it! That's not it! Why in the world would you change a great play to that? Who are you moving? People in cocktail parties!"

WA: [British snob accent] "She's not tragic at all. I'm sure of it. She's going to open a tea shop."

TPP: I guess I was curious about how you talk about what isn't written. In Art, it seems that so much hinges on those moments when nobody's saying anything. And after all, there are only three people.

DD: I think the more you play it, the more you establish. . . . These three have very specific things they care about, and everything is derivative of that.

JH: It's also choices. If you're playing the character, you could say to yourself in 16 different ways, "What if that didn't bother me? What if I knew exactly what he was talking about? What if I didn't get excited? What if I couldn't even breathe because of my rage? Why don't I just choose? And then you do choose, and see how far it goes, and see if you can't play it right.

What I cannot stand is when someone says, "Those are throwaway lines." You tell that to Bill Atherton and he'll bring you a garbage can and put you in it! [laughter] You can't say that to him! "But all you're saying is `But." "No! It's not `But.' It's [shouting, waving] `Buuuut!' You get mileage out of these things, see? You can't throw anything away!

TPP: That happens to me. I'll repeat my favorite lines from plays or films, and when I actually hear the words, since I can't really deliver them, they're nothing.

JACK WILLIS: "Skippy's drunk." That's a funny line. From The Marriage of Bette and Boo. "Look how happy you've made Skippy." "Skippy's drunk." [laughter]

DD: So all our choices about how to build to those lines make them funny. Or not. The line itself is not necessarily funny.

TPP: I'm afraid my half-hour is up.

JH: Let's say this, let's say this: there's a point in this play where one character asks the other, "Were you moved? Were you moved by Serge's painting?" So there's already a bottom line as to what's absolutely necessary. If you're not moved by this painting, then perhaps you should simply admit it. I feel the same way. If I'm not moved by what happens at the end of this play, then I've completely failed, and so has the play, and so has our production. And if that's the case then there really isn't any reason to want to do it. Not that you have the opportunity all the time! Somebody else will direct it, or the actors you play with will get something else. But I'm absolutely convinced that Ms. Yasmina Reza wanted this to break the hearts of the people who saw it. So that the final consideration about these people is that they truly, truly feel sorry for them. Not because they're destitute or because they're going to be taken away by the Nazis. It's that they were not able to see, and they ruined their friendship!

WA: Through their own actions.

JH: Yep. When really they wanted something better. The only thing is, they couldn't express what was better because, guess what? They're human. And that makes the best plays, and the best characters.

Robert von Stein Redick can be reached at robvsredick@earthlink.net.