What's New on the Rialto

John Douglas Thompson in rehearsal for King Lear Photo by Nella Vera

John Douglas Thompson indelibly seared his presence into my consciousness—and those of countless others—with his incredible, fierce performance as Brutus Jones in Irish Rep's wonderful production of The Emperor Jones in 2009. It was a tour-de-force which, along with his Obie and Lortel winning work as the Moor in Othello, caused The New York Times to declare that Thompson "had arguably the best year of any actor in New York." Thompson also earned acclaim as the lead in Richard III at Shakespeare & Company in the Berkshires, and in countless other classical and contemporary roles over the past few decades. On the stage, he holds nothing back—his voice, his presence, and the searing intelligence he brings to his parts are overpowering.

When people talk about Thompson, they invariably mention his enormous talent and work ethic but also bring up other qualities. In an interview with Berkshire Living Magazine, for example, Robert Brustein, the artistic director at American Repertory Theater [ART] when Thompson was part of the company in 1997 to 2000, called him a modest, generous, unselfish individual, "a sweet, extraordinary man that you can't help but love." Fellow performer Thomas Derrah, reporters who've spoken with him, and others describe Thompson in similarly glowing terms. In interviews, he comes across as an intelligent actor not just willing but eager to talk about the complexities of his characters.

Thomas also comes across as extremely respectful of virtually everyone he encounters. When one journalist asked him to describe the most idiotic and the weirdest questions he'd ever been asked, he responded that he couldn't recall any idiotic or weird questions. "I always have that mantra of 'there is no such thing as a stupid question' ... [Q]uestions are ... a quest for some level of understanding, and the less I judge ... the more beneficial will be the answer." This approach makes for great conversations and great interviews. Our discussion about his career and his current performance as Kent was no exception.

BH:  You were born in Bath England, but moved around quite a bit before settling down, going to college, and getting a job. Do you think the fact that you traveled so much as a young man prepared you for the life of an actor and contributed to the kind of perspective you bring to your work?

JDT:  I don't think I've ever thought of it that way, but I see how you can put that all together. When I first went to drama school I was almost 29 years old. Most of the other students were in their early 20s. What I felt I could bring to my work was my greater experience. But I do think my traveling—having lived in different places, experienced different types of people—does help. It helps any actor in giving them a wider approach to accessing characters. For me, that has been a benefit that I was not even aware of. There are things you are not even conscious of at the time, but as you look back at them, you can see how something came from them.

BH:  You had a successful career in business when you went to see August Wilson's play Joe Turner's Come and Gone, and it changed your life. What took you from that moment of admiration of the play to the recognition that acting was something you wanted to pursue?

JDT:  I was supposed to be on a date, but the date didn't show up so I went on my own. It was kind of serendipitous; theater wasn't really part of what I did, so I thought it would be interesting and enlightening for me and for my date, and maybe even impressive for my date that we went to see some theater. The fact that she didn't show up put me in a different mind set, so I could focus on what I was watching and not on impressing the young lady or having to refer to her or have discussions with her.

I read somewhere that Sidney Poitier said when you go to some theater, you're totally aware that you're watching a play; but there's another type of play in which you totally lose yourself. At Joe Turner, I [lost myself]. I was most moved by the characters' nobility as they went through their journeys in life. I felt like I was able to observe the human condition, and that human condition incorporated my hopes, my dreams. I thought, "This is where I need to focus my life's attention. This is it." It was a watershed moment for me.

Somehow that experience felt real to me—more real than the experience of being a salesperson selling computers to banks. Part of it was that I was getting disillusioned with my corporate life. I [saw Joe Turner] at just the right time. Had I not seen the play at this critical moment, I might have exited myself from the corporate life and gone on to something else, but it may not have been theater.

BH:  You've often discussed the importance of collaboration in creating art. When you describe your experience at the show, it sounds like you're talking about a collaboration with the audience as well as with the director and actors.

JDT:  Collaboration with the audience and even thirdly a collaboration with something that's bigger than yourself. Right? Because theater doesn't exist in a vacuum; ultimately you're working on these things to present them to the audience. You work as a collective—director, actors, administrative people, all the technical people involved, the whole thing. You're working on something that's bigger than you individually or as a group. There's something spiritual about that kind of work, because you're giving yourself over to something that you know is going to be bigger than you, that will hopefully provide excitement, joy, reflection, insight to the people you present it to. It's this profound way of giving a gift to someone hopefully, when it all works out.

BH:  You got the lead role in your first audition, for Nabi Swaray's World Do For Fraid, and then you went on to study with three wonderful theater companies. What did each add to your education?

JDT:  When I did World Do For Fraid I was very green, and I really didn't know what I was doing. I just picked up a trade journal and went to the audition at MIT. There were a bunch of other people there in the room with me—other actors auditioning for the same role while I was auditioning. [laughs]. I thought that was the normal process. I was really surprised when I got it, and I was really horrible in the production because I didn't know what I was doing.

When I left there, I went to Trinity Rep Conservatory. That's the backbone of my training. I learned so much about my own body, the voice, text, breaking scenes down, Shakespeare, accessing myself as a performer. I learned that performing is not so much making [your work] about yourself but making it about others. I then worked at Trinity Rep, which was a wonderful company. I worked on the main stage quite a bit. So I was able to work with a company of actors. I learned how to work with a company that had been there on that stage for decades, and I learned from their experience about how to perform, collaborate and put shows together. That's where I learned about theater as a collaborative art form.

From there I went to ART and worked with another company that was equally wonderful. That extended my understanding of collaboration and theater. I got to play a few more roles, including some larger roles—some leads and some principal roles. That taught me responsibility and leadership, and the amount of focus I needed to bring to playing these larger roles.

Then I went to Shakespeare and Company because I really wanted to do more Shakespeare, really really understand text and performance. That moved me further in understanding Shakespearean verse and how to perform it. I played some wonderful Shakespearean characters there, and realized, "I really like this work and I want to put this into my resume as well." So then I started to focus more on the classics and how to perform them. Another thing I learned at Shakespeare and Company that was really valuable was voice. There was a lot of vocal and text work, which I needed and which I continue to go back to and work on. It's a never ending process. But the most interesting thing I learned there was really the simplest: turning text into performance. How do you take these words on a page and make them sound like they're coming from a human being?

What I've been doing lately in my career is adding all that stuff together. Each experience is a learning experience that hopefully takes me further along the road in understanding my craft.

BH:  You played Othello several times before you came to New York and performed the part to such acclaim here. You've said that each time you mined the character further.

JDT:  I had played Othello actually four times before I did it in New York. I started it at Shakespeare & Company. We did two runs in New York, and then I did it in the Berkshires again for the following summer. So I spent almost a year, with some breaks here and there, focusing on that character. That was great, because it gave me all that time to sit and marinade with it. That's not always the case.

It's wonderful to get the opportunity to do that. Some of these wonderful or iconic characters, be they of a classical or a contemporary nature, deserve revisiting. You can't do them once and assume you have it. I have a better Othello than the first time I did it, but I still don't have it all together. These roles are so deep and intricate and complex, they deserve revisitation at different stages in your life. When I do it again, I'll be at least five years older than when I did it the last time. Where is my life five years from now? It will bring something different to that performance and that production. That's the exciting thing about repeating some of these roles.

Sometimes time can be an enemy, but sometimes it can be great. To actually do something, work on something, in different modes, different places around the world, different mind sets. It allows you each time you do it to go deeper. That's the key, to go deeper and deeper, because these roles or these assignments are bottomless. They don't have a bottom unless you decide to make one. It's never ending. The same thing with the acting process. I'll always be a student of the craft. There's no completion, there's no end justifies the means because there is no end. There's just the means. And the means is the rehearsals, the productions, going from one thing to the other to the other. There is nothing to justify because it's just the process.

BH:  Your work in The Emperor Jones was astonishing. I interviewed Ciaran O'Reilly when he was in Molly Sweeney and we discussed The Emperor Jones (which O'Reilly directed). He talked about the reservations you initially had about the show. You've also talked about both your initial concerns with the part and the collaborative process you had with him. It sounds as if, though you deferred to his judgment, you also felt very comfortable expressing your thoughts and goals with respect to the role.

JDT:  I took a great deal of time to give him my decision. I needed that time to do my own research about O'Neill. Not that I didn't know about him, but I didn't know about O'Neill and The Emperor Jones—and The Hairy Ape and Anna Christie, the three plays he wrote that really deal with outsiders. I also needed to understand where O'Neill was at in his life when he wrote this play, what he was trying to do and say. Stuff about expressionism. I was well aware that he studied the work of Carl Jung. He was also influenced by [Joseph Conrad's novella] "Heart of Darkness." I was trying to get into his head to figure out what he was into at this time, so I could figure out what he was trying to say. My research gave me a whole different perspective on it.

By the time I got together with Ciaran, his ideas were so pure and I thought, "Right on!" I have no problem as an actor deferring to the director. As an actor you can be so inside something that you're not focusing on the bird's eye view and you shouldn't be. The director is focusing from the bird's eye view, so can have some really positive thoughts and criticisms about what's going on, in an effort to move it to another place. You may not be able to see exactly how what you're doing [services] the full story, and the director can. I would defer to Ciaran knowing he was going to see some things that I wasn't seeing and that his directions would help me do better.

BH:  He also said that you brought it a hundred percent to every performance.

JDT:  There was no way to do less with Brutus Jones in an effort to have his story make sense. Here is this guy who goes on a journey of self discovery and it's a story of possible redemption. He never quite gets it. I always had the feeling that if this guy could just get out of the forest, he could go and give the money back and be a different person, more benevolent. But he never makes it out of the forest. Still, we had to find some way to show that a huge transformation had happened to this guy, who was full of a lot of hubris at the very beginning, then goes into the forest and interacts with the deepest part of himself. He's fearful and scared and that required from my and Ciaran's perspective that I and everyone else gave 100%. Not just the actors on stage but the sound and lighting people. As we were developing this show, everybody was bringing their A game all the time to the rehearsal, the tech process and the show itself. The mask work, the choreography, all that stuff. It was a unique production in that everybody was working in overdrive.

BH:  In interviews at the time you spoke about Brutus Jones being an outsider and said that helped explain his character. You have made similar comments in connection with other less sympathetic characters you've played. In King Lear, you're playing Kent, who's very much an insider and who's also a very sympathetic character. How do you approach this type of role?

JDT:  It's so funny. I look at Kent at an insider who then becomes an outsider because of his banishment and then creates this new character, Caius, to then stay around and help the king. That's where the sympathetic aspect of Kent comes in, because he follows King Lear around making sure to be there for him and to help and protect him, not just from the storm but from forces that are trying to hurt him or kill him. By virtue of the service he provides to the King as Caius the outsider he becomes an insider again. I've had to look at Kent in two ways: the courtly nobleman Kent and then the Kent who is this gruffy eccentric serving man called Caius. He remains Caius longer in the play than he remains Kent.

Also, what's really interesting about Kent is that, although he witnesses the suffering that Lear is going through and hopefully is protecting him from any outside sources that would try to take King Lear's life, by doing all this Kent gets to do exactly what he says he always has wanted to do for Lear. Kent says that his life is Lear's life. Kent's not afraid to lose his life as his life is devoted to Lear. What I find interesting about Kent is that he's a man of such strong principle and he doesn't sway from that, and he's not afraid to speak truth to power, even knowing the consequences that may happen. And he loves Lear so much that even after banishment he finds a way to serve his king. The loyalty that he has is quite interesting. I haven't played characters who have that mix, who go underground to stay above ground.

BH:  That's very interesting. You talked about The Emperor Jones and the consequences of being part of a capitalist or imperialist system. King Lear deals a lot with the consequences of familial relationships as well, and the consequences people have to bear for their decisions.

JDT:  It's not only about the tragedy of parents and children, or about pride and ingratitude, though we see all of that. The younger generation are looked upon by their parents as being ungrateful. The child Cordelia seems to be the right kind of a child. She loves her father the right amount, she doesn't show ingratitude, she cares and she thinks about her parents. But even more than that, it's a tragedy of kingship—right?—because from Kent's perspective the leader essentially decides to abdicate the throne and bases a lot of his decision on flattery and how flattery now wins the day in court. The old school, which Kent represents, flattery was not permitted. Flattery distorts the understanding of things because it's not true. That really starts the play off. Lear banishes Cordelia because she answers his question honestly, and he banishes me because I speak truth to power. He's not willing to give up the platform of flattery and dotage. What you have there is the unintended consequences of good intentions. Lear is a good man, which is why Kent loves him. Kent devotes his life to Lear; if there wasn't Lear there wouldn't even be a Kent. Lear's good intentions of dividing up the throne were that everyone will divide up their piece and they'll have peace in the land, and he'll go visit his daughters—Cordelia primarily, because she's the one he loves the most. But what happens, what gets unleashed is the tragedy of his good intentions—the cruelty of his daughters, if you want to look at it that way, pushing him out into the storm; the civil war that is happening; the war at the end of the play.

BH:  As you say, the play and these characters can be mined in different ways. I saw a video in which Oskar Eustis talks about the decency that Sam Waterston emanates, and how that makes some of what transpires more tragic.

JDT:  Yes, he delivers a warm, affecting and terrifying Lear. His portrayal is complex and at times extremely vulnerable. No matter how Lear is played, you can get some sympathy out of it. Even though he made some really wrong decisions, like banishing his daughter and Kent, there's also redemption through suffering. That happens in a lot of stories; a character does something wrong, suffers for it, and the suffering brings about transformation and then redemption. It's a tale we've had mythologically, in Greek tragedies, and in the Bible. It's a story that we have as some sort of moral point in our lives. Suffering can bring about learning and redemption and transformation.

BH:  The show features such an incredible cast. In addition to Sam Waterston, Kelli O'Hara, Michael McKean, Bill Irwin, Frank Wood, Seth Gilliam and other top rate performers are in this production. What is the chemistry like?

JDT:  I can say to you the collaborative process is really wonderful. It's well cast and all the right people are in the right roles. When I sit back and watch, I can see the play very clearly in the sense of what the roles are and who the people are who are in those roles. Everybody's particular skill sets service the play and the characters. Collaboratively, therefore, it's been quite wonderful.

BH:  You've worked on Broadway with two iconic stars. In 2007-2008, you were in Cyrano de Bergerac with Kevin Kline. What was the experience like?

JDT:  I really enjoyed working with Kevin. I played Le Bret, his good friend. There were times I was on stage with Kevin and I was so in awe of his abilities that I was out of character, just watching him play the part. Truly an incredible performer and so facile with language. He was so inventive and creative, at a moment's notice. I never saw him do the same thing twice. And very generous. Also, you learn a lot from working with someone like Kevin because he's always at a place of creation and he trusts himself a great deal and he's very moment to moment and looking for the truth in what he's creating. I try in the context of what I'm creating to base it in human truth. I look at these plays as statements on the human condition.

BH:  You also worked with Denzel Washington, in Julius Caesar in 2005.

JDT:  When I did Julius Caesar with Denzel Washington, that was such a thrill. For most of us in the room, Denzel was our idol. We were able to watch him up close as he did his work. He was wonderful and so generous. Not only do I remember the brilliance of his performances, but I remember that after each show he signed autographs for his fans and took pictures with them. Every show, there would be a line around the block and he'd be out there every time. Even after the dress rehearsal. He's a very, very nice man. I was glad to be able to work with him, though I didn't do many scenes with him. I was basically a glorified spear carrier. But, while I was carrying my spear I got to watch him work.

BH:  It was an August Wilson show that changed your life. I didn't notice any August Wilson shows in your resume.

JDT:  No, I haven't done any! The same week I auditioned for Cyrano, I also auditioned for a Baltimore Center Stage production of Joe Turner's Come and Gone and for the Lincoln Center production of Cymbeline. I booked all of those jobs, but they all conflicted. So I had to choose one. As much as I was tempted to choose Joe Turner's Come and Gone because it was the play that got me into theater, I opted to do Cyrano with Kevin Kline. In a way I was disappointed to turn it down, but I got to be on stage with Kevin Kline and Jennifer Garner [and the other amazing actors] in this wonderful production. It was the right decision. And it also taught me that I was castable in August Wilson, so I feel someday I'll get to do those plays. Now I'm at the point where I'm really ready to get into those plays. That's my dream.

King Lear at The Public Theater, 425 Lafayette Street, New York. Previews begin October 18, 2011. For more information and ticketing, visit publictheater.org.