His newest play, "Almost, Maine," opened in New York City on Jan. 12 to considerable acclaim; Broadway.com found it "utterly endearing" and The Wall Street Journal hailed it as a "comic romantic roundelay." Arts & Living Editor Donatella Galella found time to drop in on possibly the hottest show off-Broadway this season, and had a chat with its creator.
What prompted you to work in show business?
[When] I was in college, I had a good friend, Wendy Rich '91. She did a lot of plays and I saw a lot of her plays and I remember thinking that this was something that interested me. When I was a senior, I was in a play, one of the one-act plays, and I loved doing it and I realized that that was what I wanted to do. After college, I auditioned for some internships at some regional theaters all across the country and I got one at Stagewest in Springfield, Mass. and I studied there for three years and moved to New York to seek my fortune, I guess you could say.
Which classes and activities did you engage in at Amherst that you think prepared you for your career as an actor and then a playwright?
I was in the Zumbyes and we always did sketches and stupid things so that was good preparation. I was in the Glee Club. I was a resident counselor my junior year. I just liked listening to people and kind of checking out what was going on around me and that made me want to write.
So you took advantage of the "Singing College"?
Yes, definitely.
A facetious question, but how does one achieve a Tony nomination and an Outer Critics Circle Award and how did you feel when you accomplished these honors?
I have no idea how you can achieve that. I was lucky that I was given a chance to pretty much recreate Motel the Tailor and I sort of gave it my own stamp. It was my first time on Broadway and I didn't think I'd be on Broadway because I'm not really a singer and most shows on Broadway now are musicals. I didn't really have the interest in musicals because I didn't have the whole set of skills for it so I focused on plays. I did parts at Shakespeare festivals and little parts on TV. It's funny because at school, people thought I was this singer. I can sing, I'm okay. I like doing it with other people, but solos always kind of made me nervous. Well, I was very surprised because the Outer Critics [Circle] Award came first and we thought the Drama Desk would follow. If people's tastes follow what you do, then you get nominated.
What inspired you to turn playwright and write "Almost, Maine"?
Well, I guess it's just I found that a lot of the new plays I went to see in New York were about New York and New Yorkers and it makes me sad that the New York theater scene is so focused on itself. I don't think it's good for the art form. There was a time when Tennessee Williams was played in New York and he wrote about the Midwest and the South. There was a time when working-class stories were told. On Broadway, it's only the story of the powerful and very wealthy. And a lot are imports from Britain. I think that's great, but there's room for American voices in the theater. Now most young American writers go straight to Hollywood. But you know, then 12 people get their hands on it and it's not your story. And that's why so many television shows are so bad-they're not told from one point of view. I just wanted stories of people from where I grew up to be told.
What do/did you hope to accomplish with "Almost, Maine"?
I kind of already accomplished what I wanted. I hoped to get a production in Maine and I did last year and it was successful enough that it got to find a production in New York and right now it's still running-hopefully it'll run forever. Haha. It's a collection of sweet stories and I hope that people give it a chance. It's not dumb. A lot of hopeful and sweet material is relegated to dumb. I think cynical and intelligent are equated in this city and that's a sad way to live. It's good to be a little hopeful. I'm a sad guy and I wrote this play and it's funny that people think I'm this happy guy.
Do you have a favorite vignette? If so, why that particular one?
I think my favorite is the top of the second act when the guys fall down. When the show was done in Maine, a woman actually thanked me for that story because her son was gay and she never thought of the fact that all kinds of people fall in love. We don't think about who falls in love and how but they do in a world where there is little control over everything.
Playwrights often just write, and their material becomes the plasticine of other forces. To what extent did you have control over the production, casting and direction of the play?
Very little. I mean the theater is a collaborative art form and I think it's important to remember that. There are aspects of this production that I love and aspects that I don't love. I had friends performing the roles in Portland and three of those friends were replaced because the director felt that he needed to hold auditions to see if there was something out there he was missing. But it's so neat to let go of the material and let it develop into something completely different. It's as thrilling as it is painful to let your vision go.
What are you working on next?
Right now [the project]'s called "Cul de Sac" and it's an examination of suburbia. It's actually three short plays. And it's going to be done by the Transport Group in April and May this year.
If you have one piece of advice to give to an aspiring writer, what would it be?
First of all, if you want to challenge form, master the form before you break it. Obey the masters like Shakespeare. They tell great stories and storytelling is something that is getting lost in contemporary theater. Just write the story for you and don't let what people think of your story affect you because if you start to write with many people's opinions in mind, then the story gets diluted because you're trying to please too many people. [While it's important] to think about careers and such, don't get so caught up in ambition and climbing that you lose sight of who you are and what really makes you happy. It would be quite a waste to be unhappy in what may be our one and only life. Oh, and always put the toilet seat down.