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    Mandy Patinkin Finds Healing in Refugee Work and Praying With His Dog

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    Right when the actor thought he’d done almost everything, Ken Burns offered him the role of Benjamin Franklin, and, just maybe, held off an early retirement.Mandy Patinkin arrived so long ago in his career — winning a Tony Award for “Evita” and an Emmy for “Chicago Hope” and being the object of adoration and imitation as Inigo Montoya in “The Princess Bride” — that he likes to jest he’s getting ready to leave.“I keep seeing the exit door,” Patinkin, 69, said jovially on a video call from his cabin in the Hudson Valley in New York.In fact, he toyed with retiring after “Homeland” ended in 2020 but discovered during the pandemic that he missed the structure, the learning and even the anxiety of acting.Around that time, Ken Burns came knocking.Burns wanted Patinkin’s sonorous voice for “Benjamin Franklin,” his two-part dissection of the multifaceted, often contradictory founding father: a writer and publisher, a scientist and an inventor, a diplomat and signer of both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, a slave owner and, later in life, an abolitionist.“And, all of a sudden, I’m sitting in front of a microphone with some of the world’s greatest historians guiding me through how to speak a language that was somewhat older and from the queen’s England at times,” Patinkin said. When he finally saw the four-hour documentary (premiering on April 4 and 5 on PBS), he was stunned by what he thought he knew about Franklin and didn’t.“I couldn’t get over that I got to be this guy,” he said. “Talk about parts you get to play.”But singing is his first love. And after being stranded without an accompanist during the pandemic, Patinkin — who hears music even in the mundane and can transform a classic into something wondrously unfamiliar — is back to working three hours a day with the pianist Adam Ben-David in preparation for a new concert tour beginning May 25 in Baltimore.“I’ve never been happier,” Patinkin said.In the meantime, he and his wife, the Obie-winning actress and writer Kathryn Grody, keep their creativity alive and their opinions heard through wildly popular social media videos masterminded by their son Gideon.“We have this crazy platform,” Patinkin said, “and he realizes what a gift it is to have a voice like this.”Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.1. His new grandson I was in tears last night. I’ve got this grandchild in my arms, and I couldn’t believe this family was together after all this time, at this moment in our history, with this new life. In the midst of such cuckoo-ness, my son, Isaac, and daughter-in-law, Lennon, had the courage to bring a child into this world. I can’t imagine something more hopeful.2. Praying with his dog, Becky With the pandemic and all the healing that needs to be done, I thought, “I’ve got to feed this dog twice a day. I’ll say the healing prayer for the whole world.” So I do three Jewish prayers: the Shema first; then the “Mi Shebeirach,” which my dear friend Debbie Friedman made the popular version of for the reform Jewish community; then the blessing over breaking bread. And she knows to sit there. She knows each melody, and she knows when it’s getting close. Then I say, “OK,” and she goes to her bowl.3. Live performance Work-wise, my favorite thing to do is to sing music in concert for people all over the world. I finished a 30-city concert tour the week before the pandemic hit. Then, all of a sudden, we’re locked up. My piano player, Adam Ben-David, and I started working again about two, three weeks ago.It’s interesting. The concert I put together, called “Diaries,” [reflected] what was going on in our country, with the election and the polarization. Friends would come and went, “Wow, we loved what you had to say, but that’s pretty dark.” So we changed. I went over hundreds of [more upbeat] songs, and I said to Adam, “Let’s put all these songs back in our bones and our bodies and work them together because I need happier stuff.” And that’s what we’ve been doing — welcoming us back to being alive with the music.4. International Rescue Committee They are trying to take myself and my wife and my son Gideon to the Ukraine-Polish border as ambassadors from the I.R.C. to bring attention where attention must be paid. Our initial question was, “What is the Covid situation in Poland?” And then you think of the optics. We’ve been vaccinated and boosted. Essentially what’s there now, you’re well-protected and you won’t die from it. And I thought, “I’m going to wear a mask next to these women and children who have been fleeing for their lives? I’m going to keep a distance from these people when they need to be held and near humanity who cares?” And I finally came, “No. I’ll take my chances because they need people that pay attention. I’m finished being afraid.”5. National Dance Institute We have a place in the country that we love. One day, I believe my son Isaac was 3 or 4, this car drives up and this guy gets out and he comes running down the mountain, and he goes, “Hello, hello, hello! I want to meet Isaac!” And this is Jacques d’Amboise, the true Pied Piper of the world. He grabs Isaac and he says, “You’re going to be a dancer!” We don’t know what he’s talking about. Then Isaac became part of the Tiny Tots [renamed the First Team in 2004], and we became part of Jacques’s life.6. “Benjamin Franklin” by Walter Isaacson and “John Adams” by David McCullough I started reading the Isaacson book again, and I couldn’t get over how much I missed the first time I read it. These guys are just phenomenal history teachers. You know, as you read any book, it’s mentioning all kinds of other books along the way. Isaacson is constantly nodding the head toward McCullough. So I’m three-quarters of the way through McCullough’s book, which I’ve tried to read countless times in the past. And because of this experience, I’m sailing through it.7. “C’mon C’mon” from the director Mike Mills I’m a member of the Academy, so we watch everything, and my favorite movie was “C’mon C’mon” with Joaquin Phoenix. That movie is so great. There’s a kid [Woody Norman] in it who’s just off-the-charts brilliant. And Joaquin is, bar none, my favorite actor of this time. Period. There’s a lot of great ones out there, so that’s saying something because this man is the gift to the arts, and this is one of his most beautiful performances. Run to see it.8. “Lucy and Desi” from Amy Poehler I couldn’t get over what a gorgeous job she did telling that love story — the influence they had on the whole industry, but, really, on the human heart. I got to meet Lucy when I was doing “Evita” in 1979 at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles. There’s a knock on my dressing room door after a performance, and I hear this voice [Patinkin mimics in gibberish a gravelly baritone voice], and I go, “That’s my Aunt Ethel!” And then this woman comes in, and my Aunt Ethel had red hair. So she walks into my dressing room like a bulldozer, talking in that voice. And I go, “Aunt Ethel!” I even think I said, “How’s Uncle Joe?” And at some point it hits me, “Oh my God, you’re not Aunt Ethel. You’re Lucy!”9. Toy trains My father came home when I was 8 years old, and he bought me, supposedly — me, spelled himself — a Lionel toy train, an engine of which I still have. To this day, it runs perfectly, with almost no maintenance whatsoever. Over the years, I built layouts in my basement on a 4-by-8-foot sheet of plywood. Then we got this place in the country and there was an old barn, and we took the upstairs and made it a train room. We slowly built this wonderful layout. My kids were not interested when they were younger, but for Hanukkah or my birthday, they would give an hour in the train room with Dad. That would be their gift to me.10. Quiet The thing I love most these days is quiet and being with my wife, doing nothing and just having her nearby. It’s my greatest pleasure after 44 years of two people that spend some time loving each other and some time killing each other that, after all this time, we can gaze into the face of our grandchild and do it together. That we have each other, and we’ve stuck it out through all the troubles. More

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      in Music

      Sunday in the Trenches With George

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      James Lapine’s book shows how he and Stephen Sondheim invested two years of work to burnish their musical from an avant-garde near-disaster to a mainstream classic.As someone then working in a menial capacity on musicals, I was lucky enough to see the original production of James Lapine and Stephen Sondheim’s “Sunday in the Park With George” several times: once during its ragged, unfinished Off Broadway workshop at Playwrights Horizons in 1983 and repeatedly during its gleamingly polished Broadway run at the Booth Theater starting the next year. Either way, I thought it was a work of beauty and genius, especially after getting to study the music up close as I proofread parts of the score for the show’s copyist. What I didn’t know was how close, and how often, “Sunday” had come to not working at all.In “Putting It Together: How Stephen Sondheim and I Created ‘Sunday in the Park With George,’” Lapine, who directed and wrote the book for the show, relates the history of the work through memories, memorabilia and interviews with more than 50 people connected with it. They include Sondheim, of course, but also the original stars (Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters), ensemble members (including the as-yet-unknown Kelsey Grammer, Brent Spiner and Christine Baranski), producers, designers, stage managers and grunts.The composer Stephen Sondheim, right, was collaborating for the first time with James Lapine, left, who wrote the book and directed “Sunday in the Park With George.”Gerry GoodsteinFar from being a nostalgic ego trip, though, Lapine’s book is astonishingly frank about the show’s troubles and his own shortcomings. His background in experimental theater was central to the new work’s innovations but did not prepare him, especially as a novice director, for the mainstream pressures that inevitably came to bear once Sondheim was involved, even if Sondheim himself was trying to escape them.That division is recapitulated in the plot, which in the first act concerns the pointillist painter Georges Seurat, his fictional lover, Dot, and the creation of his masterpiece, “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.” In the second act, it leaps ahead 100 years to focus on a contemporary artist who might be the couple’s great-grandson. Some audiences were unwilling to make that leap. Even Emanuel Azenberg, one of the show’s commercial producers, found it “intimidating and baffling.”The same phrase applies to the many personality clashes, technical problems and existential threats that seemed to pop up constantly during the show’s development. So even as Lapine traces the painstaking process of creating and directing something fundamentally new, he also reveals the role of chance and adversity in the making of a musical that’s now considered a classic.The unexpected flip side of that insight is the realization that even the greatest works, as they come together, are always just a few decisions shy of coming apart.Below, a timeline, with quotations from the book (out on Aug. 3), of the portents, miscalculations and disasters that over the course of two years led — utterly unpredictably — from the postcard of the painting that Lapine first showed Sondheim to a musical that may be, as one lyric puts it, “durable forever.”June 12, 1982With Sondheim, 52, in “a pretty dark place” after the failure of “Merrily We Roll Along” in 1981 — he’s considering giving up theater to make video games — Lapine, 33, a downtown up-and-comer, anxiously heads to their first meeting “through a huge antinuclear march that seemed to have taken over the city.” As the two men share a joint and talk, Lapine realizes they come from different artistic worlds; he has seen only one of Sondheim’s shows — “Sweeney Todd” — and has the thinnest possible knowledge of musical theater in general.Sondheim’s indication in Lapine’s script of where the opening number should go in “Sunday in the Park.”via Stephen SondheimSeptember 1982Sondheim, who typically begins by looking for places to put songs in the book writer’s text, finds one in Lapine’s first pages, as Dot poses for Seurat on a hot Sunday. Lapine expands the moment into a monologue beginning with the words “First a dribble of sweat,” but Sondheim thinks: “Dribble — I can’t do dribble.” He changes it to “trickle.” A good start, yet Lapine waits so long to hear the result, or any result, that he begins to fear Sondheim will leave him “at the altar.” The delay is in part the result of Sondheim’s fundamental concern: “I didn’t think the show needed songs.”Nov. 1, 1982At the first reading of the first act, Sondheim plays the entire score so far, which consists of four arpeggios — about 10 seconds of music.Early 1983The Off Broadway workshop at Playwrights Horizons has been financed mostly by grants and “wealthy widows,” says André Bishop, the theater’s artistic director. But at least one isn’t on board. Dorothy Rodgers, the widow of Richard Rodgers and an éminence grise in New York State arts funding, argues that Sondheim, as a “commercial” composer, doesn’t merit public funds. Bishop recalls writing to her: “If you think this musical that is barely half-written, about a pointillist painter, is commercial, you’ve got to be nuts!” Instead of cutting funding, he adds, “what I think you should do is get down on your knees and kiss my feet.” Rodgers replies: “Dear André. Point taken.”April 1983Lapine receives a letter from Edward Kleban, the lyricist of “A Chorus Line,” suggesting that “Sunday,” as yet unperformed, appropriates elements of Kleban’s unproduced musical “Gallery.” The implied threat of a lawsuit hovers all the way to Broadway, as does Kleban, seen scribbling notes during previews, but a suit never materializes.May 31, 1983On the first day of rehearsal, Peters gets an emergency call: “Your father is sick.” But it’s just her stalker. Other problems are not so easily dismissed. One cast member quits after a week, and several who remain resist what they call Lapine’s “sophomoric” theater games and directing style. Spiner, who plays a chauffeur, complains, “I don’t have a character. Where is my character?” When Lapine answers, “You’re not a character, you’re a color,” Spiner retorts: “Would you mind telling me what color?”Mandy Patinkin as Georges Seurat and Bernadette Peters as his fictional love, Dot, in the Broadway production.Martha Swope, via The New York Public Library for the Performing ArtsJuly 1983Patinkin, later describing himself as “terrified” by the demands of the role, storms out of the theater during the first week of performances at Playwrights, with Lapine chasing him down 42nd Street. Though Patinkin’s wife and agent talk him out of quitting, Lapine isn’t sure he’ll ever trust his leading man again. But trust is a problem all around. After Lapine confuses upstage and downstage and gives inappropriately harsh notes, Grammer, who plays several small roles, reams the director out in front of the company.Late July 1983Near the end of previews, Sondheim finishes “Finishing the Hat,” a song for Seurat that makes the first act gel. Not gelling: the skeletal second act hastily added for the final three performances at Playwrights, introducing the contemporary George as a wacky performance artist. Audiences are mystified, as is Sondheim: “It was really terrible.”Fall 1983To everyone’s surprise, the Shubert Organization decides to produce the unfinished, highbrow show in one of its Broadway theaters by the end of the new season; Lapine selects the Booth, nearly the smallest and thus the least financially feasible option. (The pit is so small that the bass drum has to be sliced in half to fit.) Patinkin almost decamps to play one of the sons in the Dustin Hoffman “Death of a Salesman.” Peters does not immediately sign on for Broadway either, noting that Dot still lacks a major moment in the first act like George’s “Finishing the Hat.” (This isn’t narcissism; she has already declined top billing, pointing out that the show is called “Sunday in the Park With George” — not Dot.) Sondheim, agreeing, fills the emotional gap with “We Do Not Belong Together.”The poster for the Broadway production, which played the small Booth Theater.1984 Fraver April 2, 1984At the first Broadway preview, Lapine writes, the theater is “sweltering” and the first act runs an hour and 40 minutes. “Many people walked out at intermission and more during the second act. By the end of the show, people were so desperate to get out of the theater that if I’d stood in their way, I’d have been trampled.” The crew, who call the show “Sunday in the Dark and Bored,” think it will close on opening night — or maybe before; they joke about kidnapping Patinkin and dumping him “in the middle of the Bronx.”Later that AprilA big technical problem during previews is Dot’s trick dress, which she must step out of during the title song as if it were an exoskeleton. The Off Broadway dress was problematic enough, but the fancier Broadway version, operated by a stage manager with a garage-door opener, is even buggier. The shell does not always open, forcing Peters to fight her way out of it manually, using the “emergency exit.” On one occasion, the opposite happens: The dress suddenly shuts before Peters can get back inside; she grabs it under her arm and walks off with it, getting a huge, unintended laugh.A costume rendering of the trick dress worn by the character Dot and controlled with a garage-door remote.Patricia Zipprodt, via Billy Rose Theatre Division/The New York Public Library for the Performing ArtsEven later that AprilWith two crucial second act songs still unwritten, the opening night is postponed by two weeks and Michael Bennett, an in-demand play doctor ever since he staged “A Chorus Line,” is brought in for advice. But there are also improvements and good omens. The first act has been cut down to 75 or 80 minutes and more people (even Johnny Cash!) are staying through the second. In the week before opening, when Sondheim finally finishes the last two songs — “Children and Art,” which Lapine says “explained the show,” and “Lesson #8,” which “explained George” — the contemporary story suddenly hangs together, even though the songs aren’t yet orchestrated.May 2, 1984“Sunday in the Park With George” opens to mixed reviews, is nominated for 10 Tony Awards (nabbing only two) but runs for 604 performances and, in April 1985, wins the Pulitzer Prize.On April 24, 1985, from left, Sondheim, Peters and Lapine celebrate the news that the show has won the Pulitzer Prize for drama.Sara Krulwich/The New York Times More

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      in Television

      When Covid Dropped the Curtain on Broadway Actors, TV Kept the Lights On

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      New and returning TV series like “The Gilded Age” and “The Good Fight” have been a lifeline for celebrated theater actors during the pandemic. Will TV, or theater, ever look the same?Back in March, the actress Kelli O’Hara arrived on Rhode Island’s Gold Coast. A company of theater heroes, with enough combined Tonys to crowd a mansion’s mantels, met her there. “It was almost like Broadway said, ‘We’re shutting down,’” O’Hara recalled during a recent telephone interview. “So 20 of us got together and said, ‘Let’s go do a play in a seaside town.’”But O’Hara — and colleagues like Christine Baranski, Nathan Lane, Debra Monk and Cynthia Nixon — hadn’t come to Newport to for a summer stock job. Or even for the clam cakes. They were on location for “The Gilded Age,” a robber baron costume drama from Julian Fellowes that will premiere on HBO in 2022.With Broadway theaters closed since last April, “The Gilded Age” joins current series like “The Good Fight,” “Younger” and “Billions” and upcoming ones like “The Bite” and a “Gossip Girl” reboot in providing a glitzy refuge for theater stars during the shutdown. Broadway performers have always appeared here and there on scripted series. (No 2000s Playbill bio was complete without a “Law & Order” credit.) But this past year, television work — which is typically better paid than theater and more luxurious in its perks — was pretty much the only show in town.Benton as Natasha in the musical “Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812,” which earned her a Tony nomination. Sara Krulwich/The New York Times“People are just really excited to be working and to have human contact and to be on set and telling a story again,” Allison Estrin, the casting director of “Billions,” said. “Every actor I’ve talked to has just expressed nothing but gratitude and excitement for being able to work right now.”And because every stage actor was suddenly available, television has never seemed so theatrical. (You could cast a credible Sondheim revival with actors on “The Good Fight” alone.) Will television ever look the same? Will Broadway?A year or so ago, casting directors would have had to compete with — or maneuver around — Broadway commitments. “It was always a scheduling nightmare to work around people’s curtain times,” Robert King, a creator of “The Good Wife” and “The Bite” said.“Sorry to say it, but it worked for us,” he added about the shutdown, “because we could schedule more freely.”Tavi Gevinson.The CWAdam Chanler-Berat.The CWTavi Gevinson and Adam Chanler-Berat, stars of the new “Gossip Girl,” had both committed to a revival of the Stephen Sondheim musical “Assassins.” “We were going to work overtime and do back flips to make it work for them,” Cassandra Kulukundis, the “Gossip Girl” casting director, said. The pandemic put an end to back flips. Did that make Kulukundis’s life easier?“It made my life sad,” she said. “I want to see those people working.”Although some shows had completed casting before Covid-19 hit New York, many have stepped up with an express desire to employ stage actors. “Everyone’s aware that it’s a horrible time,” Warren Leight, the showrunner for “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” said. “And if you can help out, you do.”“So I just made the call early on,” he continued: “Let’s make this the year where the first pool of actors we go to is a Broadway actor, the Off Broadway actors.” He estimates that he has employed an average of 10 theater actors — Jelani Alladin, André De Shields, Adriane Lenox and Eva Noblezada among them — per episode this season.Robert and Michelle King conceived the goofy horror comedy “The Bite,” in part, to keep stage actors working. “Employing people that were out of work from the theater was uppermost in our mind,” Michelle King said. She doesn’t think that the six-episode show, which debuts May 21 on Spectrum, would have worked without stage performers. Filmed comparatively early in the pandemic, it was mostly shot remotely, in actors’ homes.“Because people are acting by themselves, you really need people that are at the very top of their craft,” she said. “If we hadn’t had access to those people, the show wouldn’t have come together creatively.”Like Gevinson and Chanler-Berat, Steven Pasquale (as seen in “The Bite”) was committed to a revival of the Stephen Sondheim musical “Assassins” before Covid-19 hit New York.Spectrum Originals/CBS StudiosFor Steven Pasquale, a Broadway veteran who was also slated for the “Assassins” revival, “The Bite” provided a welcome alternative. “It felt a little bit like we were making theater, even though we were making a TV show, because there were so many theater people involved.”“The Gilded Age,” which employs 17 Tony winners and nominees in its cast, had a similar put-on-a-show ethos. “There is something about theater actors on a television set,” said Audra McDonald, a six-time Tony winner and a star of “Gilded,” “The Bite” and “The Good Fight.” “It feels like it’s a repertory company.”Nixon said that “Gilded” had brought her back together with theater co-stars from her 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s. During a recent shoot, Nixon recalled, she looked at the cast members in the scene and said to Baranski, “We could totally do ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ right here.”This isn’t to suggest that casting stage performers is an act of charity or an excuse for an impromptu reunion. Yes, Broadway actors may have less on-camera experience than some of their Hollywood counterparts. But they bring an ease with stylized language, as well as a professionalism and can-do attitude that inures them to the hectic rhythms and sudden changes of a television set, especially a set operating under Covid-19 precautions.From left, Audra McDonald, Christine Baranski and Cush Jumbo in “The Good Fight.” “There is something about theater actors on a television set,” McDonald said. “It feels like it’s a repertory company.” Patrick Harbron/CBS“People who work in live theater, where anything can go wrong, they’re always on their toes,” said Kulukundis, the “Gossip Girl” casting director. Christine Baranski, a Tony winner and a star of “The Good Fight” and “The Gilded Age,” put it this way: “We have a skill set and a respect for process. You hire a theater actor and they’ll come in prepared.”Theater actors are unruffled by specialized jargon. Estrin can always tell when a stage actor walks into the audition room for “Billions.” An exuberant drama set among financiers and the regulators who love-hate them, its current season includes the Tony nominees Daniel Breaker, Stephen Kunken and Sarah Stiles.“It isn’t easy dialogue to say,” Estrin said. “They walk in the door and make it look easy.”Brandon Victor Dixon and McDonald in the Broadway musical “Shuffle Along.” McDonald tried for years to get a song written into “The Good Fight,” finally succeeding in Season 3.Sara Krulwich/The New York Times“Younger,” a pacey comedy set in the world of Manhattan publishing, often relies on musical theater stars to deliver its zingers. “These are actors that are able to make the words sing,” said Steven Jacobs, one of the show’s casting directors.When it comes to words that people might have used a century ago, stage actors typically have an advantage. Not every film or TV actor has done period work, but theater-trained actors usually have at least a few Shakespeare plays and Shavian comedies under their era-appropriate belts.“We tend to have experience with having to wrap our mouths around different types of texts,” Denée Benton, a Tony nominee who stars in “The Gilded Age” said. “I’ve spent my entire career in corsets. So when this show came around, I was like, ‘Yeah, I know how to do this.’”Doing this without giving up theater wasn’t always an option. Back in the ’90s, when Baranski needed to earn more money and decided to seek television roles, she had to move to Los Angeles.“There wasn’t enough TV work in New York back then,” she said. “Now there is, and it’s a great thing for the theater community. God, I wish it had happened earlier.”The Emmy- and Tony-winning actor André De Shields in scene from “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit” The show employed an estimated 10 theater actors per episode this season.Virginia Sherwood/NBCDuring this lost Broadway season, New York-based series have allowed Broadway talent to keep their health insurance and pay their mortgages without having to uproot their lives. Television has also provided a spiritual solace, a means to practice their art when other modes were unavailable. (Or as in the case of Zoom theater, glitchy and not always satisfying.)“The creative safety of knowing I’m going to get to use my gifts, the financial safety of knowing that I’m going to be able to pay my bills for a time period, it’s priceless,” Benton said. O’Hara put it even more feelingly. “It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever had,” she said of her work on “The Gilded Age.” “It fooled me into thinking I’m still doing theater.”Mandy Patinkin, a Broadway legend and a series regular in the coming season of “The Good Fight,” tried out retirement last year, after a nearly decade-long run on “Homeland.” He hated it. Returning to television gave him a renewed sense of purpose.“Part of what Covid taught me, among so many things, was the appreciation of the privilege of having a vocation that would structure my day and my life and my evenings and my time on Earth,” he said.De Shields won a Tony for his performance in the Broadway production of “Hadestown.”Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesSlowly, Covid’s heavy curtain is starting to rise. Most of New York’s capacity restrictions, including those governing live theater, are scheduled to end on May 19 with social distancing requirements still in place; Broadway theaters, which depend on tourists and are too expensive to operate with limited audiences, have been cleared to reopen at full capacity beginning on Sept. 14.But with so many actors having found comfort and health insurance in television in the past year, will they return to the stage?Even before the pandemic, casting plays and musicals had become more difficult, said Bernard Telsey, a casting director for “The Gilded Age” and a co-artistic director of MCC Theater. “Everyone is wanting to do television now,” he said. This applies as much to younger stage actors as to seasoned ones. “They’re five minutes out of Juilliard, and they’re looking at a television show,” he said.But there are pleasures — for actors and audiences — that television can’t offer, at least not often and not without a lot of begging first. There are few high Cs on TV, and fewer kick lines. But “Younger” has included a few songs, among them a blissful “9-to-5,” led by Miriam Shor, an original cast member from “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” There’s also a scene this season in which the series lead, Sutton Foster, dances to a song from “Thoroughly Modern Millie,” a show she starred in.“I’m always looking for little excuses to see her really step out and perform a little bit,” Darren Star, the creator of “Younger,” said.McDonald tries to make TV just a little more theatrical. For years, she asked the Kings to write a song into “The Good Fight.” They finally agreed and in the third season, McDonald and Baranski’s characters break into “Raspberry Beret” during late-night case prep.“We had a ball doing that,” McDonald said. “Because we knew it was as close to a musical number as we would ever get.”Matt Stevens More

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      in Music

      Casting a ‘Follies’ of the Future, With Beyoncé and Ben Platt

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      In the 50 years since the musical’s debut, revivals and concerts have served its great songs to great stars. Who’d be our Broadway babies 25 years from now?“Follies” is every musical theater nerd’s favorite casting puzzle. It needs names that evoke nostalgia for the showbiz past but also skilled triple-threats who match the characters — and one another. Below, a look at performers who originated the six major roles, and a selection of those who followed over the last 50 years. Plus: Our dream cast for the 2046 revival, when “Follies” will be 75 and the nostalgia will be for today.Benjamin StoneDistinguished. Wealthy. Unfaithful. Depressed.From left: John McMartin, Victor Garber and Benjamin Walker.From left: Associated Press, Sara Krulwich/The New York Times and Richard Perry/The New York TimesOf all the original stars of “Follies,” only John McMartin came without nostalgic baggage. He was a theater actor first — and that’s how Ben, a philanthropist and retired politician, has been cast ever since.For the 2007 Encores! production, the four-time Tony nominee Victor Garber was Ben to Donna Murphy’s Phyllis. The pair looked perfect together, like a president and first lady.For the 75th anniversary revival, Benjamin Walker, who has played Andrew Jackson onstage and Abraham Lincoln (vampire killer) on film, seems just right.Buddy PlummerManic. Sweaty. Unfaithful. Depressed.From left: Gene Nelson, Mandy Patinkin and Ben Platt.Associated Press, Sara Krulwich/The New York Times, Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesA former Hollywood hoofer — he played Will Parker in the movie of “Oklahoma!” — Gene Nelson was dead-on casting for the salesman unfortunate enough to be in love with his wife.When the New York Philharmonic produced a concert version for a gala in 1985, Mandy Patinkin took the role — and shook it for all it was worth.Sure, he’s already got his mitts on the “Merrily We Roll Along” movie, but wasn’t “Dear Evan Hansen” a de facto audition for Ben Platt to play this walking nervous breakdown, too?Phyllis Rogers StoneElegant. Icy. Unfaithful. Angry.From left: Alexis Smith, Diana Rigg and Beyoncé.From left: Associated Press, Andrea Mohin/The New York Times and Kevin Winter, via Getty Images for The Recording AcademyBy 1971, Alexis Smith was long retired from Hollywood, where her aloof, glamorous aura made her a star of the 1940s. That persona (and timeline) made her perfect for Phyllis.Who better than Diana Rigg, that former Avenger, to take the role of a brilliantly imperious wife for the 1987 London premiere?Lucy is juicy. Jessie is dressy. Or so Phyllis sings, describing her two contrasting halves. Beyoncé is all that, and more. Case closed.Sally Durant PlummerFrilly. Romantic. Faithful. Nuts.From left: Dorothy Collins, Bernadette Peters and Ruthie Ann Miles.From left: Associated Press, Sara Krulwich/The New York Times and Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesIn the 1950s, Dorothy Collins was a lovely B-list songbird on “Your Hit Parade.” In 1971, she still had the voice — and despite a big smile, the acting chops to make Sally dark.Bernadette Peters took the role in the 2011 Broadway revival, stripping away Sally’s social skin and turning darkness into madness.Ruthie Ann Miles won a Tony Award for her impassioned rendition of “Something Wonderful” in “The King and I.” Sally’s “Losing My Mind” is another ode to longing worthy of her heart-melting voice.Hattie WalkerIndomitable. Leather-Lunged. Ancient. Ageless.From left: Ethel Shutta, Elaine Stritch and Bernadette Peters.From left: Martha Swope, via The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, Sara Krulwich/The New York Times and Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe former radio star Ethel Shutta was 74 when she originated the role — and debuted its great song “Broadway Baby”; her own Broadway debut was in 1922.For the 1985 concert, no one was going to get between Hattie and Elaine Stritch, who sang “Broadway Baby” for most of the next 30 years.In 2046, Bernadette Peters will be 98 — and look 48. Having already played Sally in the 2011 revival, she’ll be perfect for a role she has never played except in real life.Carlotta CampionBruised. Tough. Hilarious. Still Here.From left: Yvonne De Carlo, Carol Burnett and Justin Vivian Bond.From left: Associated Press, Sara Krulwich/The New York Times, Deidre Schoo for The New York TimesYvonne De Carlo, the best known member of the original cast, portrayed the former B-list star who sings “I’m Still Here.”For the same 1985 concert, Carol Burnett — a bigger star than any of the “Follies” characters — was a curveball Carlotta. But no one could sell the setup for her big number better: “It was supposed to be a sad song, but it kept getting laughs.”How much Carlotta was there in Kiki DuRayne of “Kiki & Herb” fame? More than a splash. In 2046 it’ll be time for her creator, the cabaret chanteuse Justin Vivian Bond, to drink up, close the bar — and bring down the house. More

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      Scenes From a Marriage, Patinkin-Style

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      Mandy Patinkin and Kathryn Grody were mystified when some of the videos they made with their son while waiting out the pandemic in upstate New York were viewed more than a million times.Credit…Daniel Arnold for The New York TimesThe Great ReadScenes From a Marriage, Patinkin-StyleMandy Patinkin and Kathryn Grody’s charming, irreverent pandemic-era posts led to unlikely social media stardom. Will the vaccine end their run?Mandy Patinkin and Kathryn Grody were mystified when some of the videos they made with their son while waiting out the pandemic in upstate New York were viewed more than a million times.Credit…Daniel Arnold for The New York TimesSupported byContinue reading the main storyFeb. 3, 2021Updated 1:27 p.m. ETMandy Patinkin and Kathryn Grody have been together since their first date nearly 43 years ago, a giddy daylong romp through Greenwich Village that began with brunch and ended with them making out on a street corner. “I’m going to marry you,” he declared. “You’re going to get hurt, because I’m not going to marry anyone,” she replied.Their wedding was two years later, in 1980. But like many long-term couples, their partnership has thrived in part because they are away from each other so much. Grody, 74, is an Obie Award-winning actress and writer; Patinkin, 68, finished the final season of “Homeland” last year and spent the end of 2019 and the beginning of 2020 on a 30-city concert tour.In March, they left Manhattan for their cabin in upstate New York and embarked, like so many of us, on something radically different: months of uninterrupted time together. The result is a matter of public record, because scenes from their marriage — in all its talky, squabbly, emotional, affectionate glory — are all over social media, courtesy of their son Gideon, 34, who started recording them for fun and then realized that there was a vast demand for Patinkin-related content.Patinkin said that “being with my family holed up for 11 months has been one of the true gifts of my life.” Grody urged their son Gideon, who made their videos, not to portray them simply as an “adorable older couple” but to “get some of our annoyance in there.”Credit…Daniel Arnold for The New York TimesFor months, people have scrolled through Twitter, Instagram and TikTok to watch Grody and Patinkin debate, declaim, snuggle, bicker, horse around, play with their dog, Becky, obsess about politics and display their (lack of) knowledge about such topics as text-speak and the New York pizza rat. More recently, the world has followed along as they got their first doses of the vaccine (“one of the few benefits of being old,” Patinkin wrote).Now, as they near the first anniversary of all that togetherness, they say that except for desperately missing their older son, Isaac, who lives in Colorado and recently got married, they feel lucky to be together. “There’s no question,” Patinkin said. “Being with my family holed up for 11 months has been one of the true gifts of my life.”As this phase of the pandemic nears its end, do they plan to turn their unlikely social-media fame into a family sitcom or reality TV show? No, says Gideon, although they have gotten endless inquiries. For one thing, his parents can barely operate the video functions on their phones, and eventually he will again have to leave them to their own devices. “Once the world is vaccinated and living life is back in vogue, I might have to teach them how to do selfie videos,” he said. “That should be something.”After the first few videos last spring, Grody exhorted Gideon not to portray them simply as an “adorable older couple,” she said. “You have to get some of our annoyance in there,” she told him.What annoyance? In dueling interviews, the couple outlined the many ways they irritate each other. Patinkin hates the way his wife amasses old newspapers, like a hoarder. Grody hates how, when she fails to answer her husband’s calls, he redials incessantly — three, four, five times — until she picks up. She likes podcasts; he likes rewiring the house. She is a “social maniac,” Patinkin said; he “likes humanity in general, but very few specific people,” Grody said.In one video, they tell Gideon how they celebrated their anniversary the day before.“It began lovely, and turned into an absolute fight,” Patinkin says. “Both of us lost.”“I apologized and that made dad cry,” Grody says. “We’ve always connected through weeping.”The response was so positive, with people posting that the couple reminded them of themselves or their parents or just brought joy at a dark time, that Gideon now advises other young adults confined at home to embark on similar projects. “I became astonished at how much I could get out of them,” he said.Their efforts expanded this summer and through the election. Patinkin has long volunteered for the International Rescue Committee, a nonprofit humanitarian organization, and Gideon encouraged his parents to use their growing social media base — now 250,000-plus on Twitter, 155,000-plus on Instagram, 940,000-plus on TikTok — to work for Democratic candidates in the presidential and Senate elections.The couple took part in virtual fund-raisers; did endless phone banking; danced, sang, cooked and goofed around. Enlisting the services of the writer and director Ewen Wright, they recorded TikTok campaign spots, like one in which Patinkin tells young people to get their parents and grandparents to vote, and then twerks to a remix of the song “Stand By Me.” Mystifyingly to them, some of their videos have been viewed more than a million times.Will the show go on? After their cameraman — one of their sons, Gideon — is vaccinated and returns to his daily life, Patinkin and Grody will be left to their own devices, literally.Credit…Daniel Arnold for The New York Times“I don’t understand this stuff,” said Grody, who on one video can be seen trying to explain what she thinks TikTok is: “a communication tool” that encourages “young people to meet various kinds of other young people.”All the while, Gideon kept filming, adding new nuances to what has turned into a portrait of a complex marriage.It has not been without its adversities. (“They are an exquisite mess, but theirs is a deeply rich joy,” is how Gideon put it.) For one thing, there is Patinkin’s self-proclaimed moodiness. Once, he related, he was so unpleasant in the car en route to visit a relative that Gideon, then a teenager, said, ‘Dad, if you can’t get it together, don’t come in.” (He didn’t come in.) Another time, he felt so trapped and sulky before Thanksgiving — a difficult time of the year for him — that he decided to fly to New Orleans to spare his family, only to change his mind and demand, successfully, to exit the plane before it took off.“Everyone in the family knows I’m a (synonym for jerk),” Patinkin said. “But they know me and they love me and they forgive me, and that’s why I feel safe. The word ‘safe’ is such an operative word at this moment.”By that he meant the pandemic, and how lucky it is to be with someone who makes you feel secure in a time of insecurity.“There have been times during this whole period — sometimes I don’t even know what triggered them — there are times when I wake up and I find myself weeping, and she holds me and no words are spoken,” Patinkin said of his wife.“I married a woman who knew a guy was nuts, and she has loved me and stood by me and educated me and politicized me,” he continued. Or, as Grody said: “I used to say that I was supposed to marry a rock so I could be the lunatic, but instead I married a lunatic and I’ve had to be the rock.”They have separated twice in the course of their marriage, once for six months, the other for eight months.“We spoke to each other every day; we saw each other every day,” Patinkin said. “We couldn’t be apart.”“It was ridiculous, to tell you the truth,” Grody said. “I would say, ‘Don’t you know we’re supposed to be separated?’ As difficult as our problems were, it was far more difficult to be without each other.”They love describing how they met. They told the story in separate interviews, each observing that the other would focus on totally different details.Her version includes noticing her future husband in a 7Up commercial, circa 1970, a full eight years before they met. She then noticed him again in 1975, in his debut theater performance — the premiere of “Trelawny of the Wells,” which also starred Meryl Streep, Mary Beth Hurt and John Lithgow. She found the young Patinkin so appealing from afar that she turned to her then-boyfriend and said, “He’s my type — what am I doing with you?”Patinkin’s version includes how he went to her house for dinner soon after their fateful initial brunch and found that, living in a tiny walk-up in Little Italy, she stored her sweaters in the oven. Mis-following a recipe, she served him chicken covered in raw bacon.“I felt that I had lost my mind,” he said. “I was knocked out by her.”“When I look at Mandy, I see all of the Mandys I’ve ever known, from the person he was then to the person he is now,” Grody said.Credit…Daniel Arnold for The New York TimesPatinkin brought up “The Princess Bride,” in which he played Inigo Montoya, a swordsman trying to avenge his father’s death — and which at heart is about the search for true love.“I have found true love,” he said, “and first and foremost, I have it with my wife.”Grody feels the same way.“When I look at Mandy, I see all of the Mandys I’ve ever known, from the person he was then to the person he is now,” she said. “I’m still in love with his face.”In November, the couple appeared together in a video for the Jewish Democratic Council of America. They toasted the election results, exhorted everyone to stay safe. And then he sang “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” in Yiddish, as his wife wept quietly beside him.“To have known somebody all these years, and to have lived this life together, and to have weathered the brutalities of intimacy — it’s a daring thing,” she said. “It’s an astonishing thing.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More