Ann Hearn and Stephen Tobolowsky are among a precious few L.A. acting couples who continue to do small theatre in the film industry's midst-in their case, at their longtime home, the venerable ensemble company Theatre 40, which performs on the campus of Beverly Hills High School. Currently Hearn stars in a production of Paul Osborn's Morning's at Seven, directed by Tobolowsky; years ago he directed her there in a crackling production of David Hare's The Secret Rapture, and the two met when he directed her in Beth Henley's The Debutante Ball at South Coast Rep.
Tobolowksy, a New York and L.A. theatre veteran who also helmed the premiere of Henley's Miss Firecracker Contest, has been a busy film and TV actor-you may recall his turns in everything from Mississippi Burning to Groundhog Day-and he recently landed a role on David Kelley's new TV series Snoops. Hearn's resum includes a recurring role on Evening Shade and lead roles at the Los Angeles Theatre Center in The Glass Menagerie and King Lear.
Indeed, apart from raising their two children, the couple's most steady collaboration was in the years they worked together onstage and off in LATC's short-lived start as a city-funded, Public Theater-scale production company. These two genteel transplanted Southerners (she's from Georgia, he from Texas) met recently to discuss those heady LATC days and the joys and challenges of a two-actor household.
Stephen Tobolowsky: I was in New York and with Beth Henley at the time, and her agent was Gilbert Parker. One of his clients was Hugh Leonard, who did Da and A Life, and Gilbert said, "We have to go see A Life at this theatre in Los Angeles." So I came out with Beth and Gilbert to see this play at Theatre 40, and you were playing a part in that play-that was the first time I'd seen you onstage, and of course you were terrific in it. We had seen A Life in New York, and the two productions compared well, so I felt good about Theatre 40 and that company.
Later I was directing The Debutante Ball at South Coast, and I said, "Who do you have auditioning?" and they said, "Well, we have Holly Hunter, Amanda Plummer, and that girl Ann Hearn who you saw in that Theatre 40 play." At that time, I really thought you were this meek, timid little actress, and I wasn't too sure how to direct you-until, in front of an audience, you totally became the spine of the play.
Ann Hearn: You kept seeing me in these meek, spineless parts, and you confused the actress with the part. Which I take as a compliment.
Rosy Glow
Ann: We got so used to working together at LATC. It seemed like everything I did, you were involved in, and everything you did-if nothing else, I was there watching every night. And when that theatre folded, that's kind of when we went to Theatre 40. It still makes me sad. It was over way too fast.
Stephen: One of the most exciting nights I remember is when AT&T was sponsoring a theatre festival down there, and we had opened, I think it was Glass Menagerie; The Importance of Being Earnest was playing on one of the stages; Robbie Baitz's Film Society was on another stage, and Stickwife was on Stage 4. And I was getting out of the elevator, and the lobby was filled with hundreds of people for all the different plays, and I thought, Man, this is what it's all about. Everyone was so excited.
Ann: I still run into people who saw plays there. Years ago, I finally got to go Paris, and as I got off the plane there, somebody said to me, "We saw you in that play in Los Angeles!" That was really an amazing time-one of those things that you knew it was great while it was happening, but had no idea without hindsight how special it really was. Maybe we've just forgotten all the bad stuff and only remember the rosy glow...
Stephen: That's how you do it. That's how you get by.
Kicking Butt
Ann: All of your victories and accomplishments, I always feel that they're partly mine, too-not directly so, but just because I feel like I'm such a champion of yours, I'm so happy whenever anything turns out well for you. And when something doesn't, or you're worried about something, I'm always saying, "Now, you said this last time, remember? And it didn't turn out badly." I try to be that voice of reason when you start to feel down.
Stephen: You have a new approach. If I've been in an audition that I thought I did great on but I get no response from the room, you'll say, "You watch it: They're gonna cut that part out of the movie. They weren't even auditioning you. Probably one producer is fighting with another producer that this part shouldn't be there; they weren't even reacting to you. If what I say is true, I get to kick you in the butt." And the number of times I've bent over in the last few years to have you kick me...
Ann: I know that if I didn't get the part and somebody I respect did, then I go, "Oh, well, of course, I'd pick them, too." It's hard to have your feelings hurt in that kind of situation.
Stephen: I lost a part to Rhea Perlman this year.
Ann: You can't really feel bad about that. You figure, Well, they could go that way, too.
Stephen: It just shows that I'm in an eclectic kind of casting area. I think it was Oscar Wilde who said, "You can judge somebody by the quality of his enemies." I learn more and more that I lose parts to Chevy Chase, to Jeff Tambor, Bill Murray-and I go, Well, these people are great. At least I'm losing out to a better crop of competitors.
Such a Thing as a Dumb Question
Stephen: I have seen actors who have a terrible process for stage, and they can come off and fool an audience; I've seen actors in film who have absolutely no process-they don't even know what they're saying-and they come off great. The main thing for the stage, and I think you and I both believe in this, and that it works well for both theatre and film, is that you gotta know what story you're telling, and what your part of that story is. And you gotta take it personally.
I mean, one of the worst thing actors can say to me as a director is, "What would he do in this situation?" And I say, "He who? Who's he?"
Ann: I'd always like to say to that: "Well, could you tell him to show up for rehearsal?"
Stephen: That's good. Yeah: "If you could tell him to get out of the audience and up onstage, maybe we can start." I've had people say, "I think people should like him in the show." And I say, "What does 'liked' mean? Liked for what reason-because he sends thank-you notes, or because he's courageous or tells the truth? What?" I have no idea what these questions mean.
No Code
Stephen: Out here, I found a whole group of friends I went to college with, and we started doing plays immediately. We did Two Idiots in Hollywood, Walkie Talkie, Bridgehead-we ran that for like nine months at the Odyssey. We did theatre all the time. Then I'd go back to New York and visit, and a strange thing started happening: New York started placing all kinds of stringent codes on theatre activity, like it's illegal. I have friends I visit who say, "Oh, Wednesday is the night I do my show." You can only do 12 performances-12 in a row, or three weeks of four shows each, or one show a week for 12 weeks, but you only do 12, because Lord knows the actors are being "taken advantage of." But these people went to New York to act!
Ann: When I came here, my expectations were very much no-lose: Just exploring the opportunities was gonna fulfill a dream, and that would be reward enough. And then I was thrilled that there was theatre to do here. I didn't particularly care if I got paid or not, because all I wanted to do was to do it.
I always say that unless you're in a Broadway play, you'll never get rich or famous doing theatre, so there are only two reasons to do it: because you love the play and you love the people you're working with. If you don't have at least one of these, there's no way you're gonna be anything but miserable. So, generally speaking, you find a group of people you enjoy working with, or you find material that really speaks to your heart, and there's all the reward you need. Then if more comes from that-if you get an agent, if you get another job, if you get a casting director down to see it-that's just like a bonus to me. I enjoy doing it for the doing of it. All the rest is gravy. BSW