Working Actor on Fire
"Whenever a young actor asks me, "How long should I be trying to make it before giving up?' I say, "Get out now.' If you're thinking about timetables, you shouldn't be doing it. You have to have that fire against all odds," asserts veteran actor Treat Williams. "It's a tough, cold, disappointing business. I still audition. I auditioned three times for "The Thin Red Line,' and I was rejected."
Best known for his leading roles in the films "Hair" and "Prince of The City," he has appeared in all media‹from Broadway to Off-Broadway to Hollywood, large and small screens. Williams, who defines himself as a "working actor," is currently starring in "Captains Courageous, The Musical," slated to open at Off-Broadway's Manhattan Theatre Club, Feb. 16.
Based on the novel by Rudyard Kipling, and on the movie inspired by the novel, this "Captains Courageous" is a sentimental coming-of-age-tale on the high seas. It tells the story of a spoiled young scion of wealth who falls overboard while cruising on his father's luxury liner. He is rescued by a Portuguese fisherman, Manuel (Williams), who takes the youngster under his wing and transforms him. By so doing, Manuel transforms himself.
"Above all else, Manuel is a fisherman." Williams is eager to discuss his new role, its demands, its subtext. "He's a free spirit, very independent. He's certainly not a joiner. And he's a religious man who sees himself as his father's son. It's subtle, but throughout he's mourning for his father. He comes out of a pre-Freud culture where you don't have to "kill' your father in order to be a real person."
Indeed, "Captains Courageous" is a story about continuity, the natural order of things, suggests Williams, a 47-year-old Rowayton, Conn., native with whom we meet at a chic Upper West Side watering hole. "Although Manuel does not become a father, he's a surrogate father to the kid‹a guide, a teacher. When Manuel dies there's a sense of closure because he has passed something of value along to the boy." Williams' performance evokes charm, gentleness, and compassion with edge.
The challenges are the technicalities: singing eight shows a week and maintaining Manuel's Portuguese accent. "Accents are not about pronunciation, but culture," Williams stresses. "Do you come from a cold environment or a warm one? Do you have to raise your voice in order to be heard over the water? Pronunciation is finally layered in, but accents have a lot more to do with a person's energy, how he sees the world and his place in it."
By his own admission, Williams is a character out of an A.R. Gurney play‹WASPy, preppy (he attended a posh boarding school), and a product of the yachtsmen's circle, "but not the pink and purple pants set." He is an aviator, a licensed commercial pilot, owns two planes‹a Piper Seneca and a T-6, a single-engine WWII fighter-pilot training plane‹and occasionally performs aeronautic acrobatics.
He has spent seven years in psychoanalysis and sounds like a man who has engaged in self-examination. He is not concerned with the opinions of others, he says, and his life is balanced. "If I never acted again, I'd still have my family, my flying, my farm, and my reading." (He's now on a Dickens kick.)
Williams prefers appearing in small character-driven movies‹like the soon-to-be-released "Deep End of the Ocean," co-starring Michelle Pfeiffer‹but makes it clear he'll do low-budget action flicks and has even endured a "sitcom nightmare, "Good Advice,' which limped along for three years. But my bread was very well buttered. Thank you, CBS."
Risk-taking is the name of the game. "Yes, I looked at the movie "Captains Courageous,' but I'm not worried about imitating Spencer Tracy or audiences comparing me with him. When I did Stanley Kowalski [in the teleplay starring Ann-Margaret], it was the first on-screen performance of "Streetcar' since Marlon Brando did it and everyone said I was crazy. Some said it after they saw my performance. That's fine."
Regarding humanity, he asks, "Who says God is perfect?... The human race could be some alien student's science experiment. The problem is that it's a D student." He acknowledges that the witticism is not his own.
Facing Success
The son of a vice president at Olin Corporation‹which makes chemicals‹Williams had his sights set on an acting career at 17. After graduating from Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa., where he majored in English and Dramatic Literature, he headed to New York. Within two weeks he was cast as the understudy to all the male roles in the original Broadway-based "Grease."
Between movies, commercials, and summer stock, Williams continued intermittently in "Grease," on the road tour and then back on Broadway, finally in a leading role. "For me, it is better to work than not to work, hone my skills in front of an audience, and perhaps be seen by those who might give me my next role."
Starring in "Hair" and then doing the lead in "Prince of the City" were career turning points for Williams. He was abruptly a star. And then the bottom fell out. There was no shortage of work, but nothing quite jelled, at least not the way he‹or his admirers‹had expected, he concedes frankly. For whatever reasons‹or no reasons‹the opportunities were just not forthcoming. "I was confused, young, unfocused, spent too much time partying, and didn't handle my initial success well."
Like many, he believed that "success would turn everything around. All my problems would magically disappear. They didn't." He also bought into the notion‹one he vehemently does not subscribe to anymore‹that " "unless you're starring in movies your life is meaningless.' That makes me very angry."
He adds, "If I hadn't had to deal with disappointments and defeats, then I wouldn't be making the choices I'm making now and have the career I'm having. I don't discern between an audience of 300,000 or 300. I'm acting." Coming to those terms, he says, "That's been my journey!"
Still, he notes that cultural sensibilities have changed and that the chance to make the kind of character-driven movies he likes is more limited than it once was. He admits that audience tastes‹defined by short attention spans‹have shifted as well: "You have an entire generation of people brought up on fast cuts, MTV, and the Internet."
Williams stresses that there is far more creative freedom on television in general, and on cable channels in particular. "Not every shot has to take your breath away. Scenes can flow; characters can breathe." He cites his own stint on HBO's "The Late Shift" as an enjoyable case in point. "It was a Machiavellian fairytale about Leno and Letterman vying for the Johnny Carson spot. I played Mike Ovitz. No, I did not meet him. For me, the text is the bible, whether or not the person is alive or an historical figure."
Williams has directed a short film by David Mamet and he'd direct again, but "I'd be more interested in acquiring properties that I'd love to see made into films. I guess that would make me the producer."
At the moment, his thoughts are focused on "Captains Courageous," and his expectation that audiences walk away "entertained." Suspecting we want a more fleshed out response to what he'd like theatre-goers to feel, he quotes the old adage, "If I want to send a message, I'll call Western Union." q
PULL-quote:
"If I hadn't had to deal with disappointments and defeats, then I wouldn't be making the choices I'm making now and have the career I'm having."
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FACE TO FACE, FEB 12
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