Throughout his forty-year career, Mandy Patinkin has worked extensively as an actor in theater, film, and television. He is currently playing CIA Chief Saul Berenson on Showtime’s hit drama “Homeland.” Patinkin conceived The Last Two People On Earth: An Apocalyptic Vaudeville with his co-star Taylor Mac, director/choreographer Susan Stroman, and music director Paul Ford.
JEREMY FASSLER: How did you and Taylor Mac first start working on this project?
MANDY PATINKIN: Taylor and I were paired up for a benefit performance, and after we finished doing that, I knew we needed to work on something together. I immediately thought, what if we were the last two people on earth? I knew I wanted it to be just the two of us, and I wanted it to tell a story. We spent three years messing around, grabbing a few hours here and there when we were free.
JF: How would you describe the story of this show?
MP:When Taylor, Susan Stroman, and I committed to this problem, Hurricane Irene happened, so it became clear to us that the disaster that had left only two people was a great flood, because of climate change. Taylor comes floating in on a raft, and I’m in an old trunk, which you start to see is a vaudeville trunk where I live. We are wary of each other, and then, by accident, we begin to communicate through song and dance, realizing we’re both vaudevillians with a common language. The songs tell the story of the two of them, and how they grow together as new friends. It’s a beautiful story of two people coming together and appreciating each other, and never wanting to let go.
JF: How did you choose the songs? It’s an incredibly diverse list.
MP: I’m a lyrically driven person, so everything was chosen for the words and the story they told. We had endless lists of songs, and occasionally there would be a bump in the story and we’d realize we were hitting a wall. Initially, we were blaming a certain group of people for the state of the world and for climate change. There was a song Bill Finn had written about Republicans that was in there, but we quickly realized that this problem isn’t just Republicans; it’s a universal problem every human being is responsible for. So that led us to replace it with R.E.M.’s “It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine).” As soon as that happened, I sang on “The Colbert Report” with Michael Stipe, who wrote the song, and I said to him, “We were just considering putting your song in our show!” He came to see a rehearsal after that, which was a wonderful experience.
JF: What has Susan Stroman’s contribution to the piece been?
MP: First and foremost, she has a great ability to tell a story and is very clear about how we are trying to invent two new characters, their journey, and their history. I knew I wanted the story to be told through singing and movement, and she’s the best person in the world for that. Whenever a moment came up where a sound or language was used instead of just lyrics or a song, she said, “Get rid of it.” She knows the world of song and dance—and classic vaudeville dancing—like it’s nobody’s business. She had a field day teaching us the language of vaudeville, because neither of us were dancers. We took our first dance classes with Susan Stroman.
JF: What is your character’s journey and your relationship to Taylor’s character?
MP: I’m threatened and concerned, but also lonely. So when Taylor tries to bring me around, I don’t want to let him go. Then there’s a place within the piece where they grow together. Who’s the student and who’s the teacher? Who’s the older one and who’s the younger one? All those dynamics keep changing. At some points, I need to learn lessons about how to be free and let go, and at other points he needs to be reminded of the lessons he taught me. We become a bonded couple, the yin and yang of each other, and get to a point where we have no desire to live without each other. The fact of the matter is, I think of Taylor as Lear’s Fool, and because I’m older, I’m closer to Lear. But at times, he’s Lear and I’m the Fool. The Fool in Lear is the wisest person in the play, and that’s what’s really fun about the relationship: we both get to play Lear and we both get to play the Fool.
JF: Given the state of the world, what’s the importance of doing this show now?
MP: Working on this piece and on “Homeland” has allowed me to define what I’m interested in in every area of life: the lost art of listening. I don’t think people listen in our Congress, our Senate, our courts, or our executive branches. But I’ve got to back up. This is an entertainment. This is a vaudeville show. I get rather philosophical when I wax on; rabbinical at times. One of Stroman and Taylor’s greatest gifts as cocollaborators is that they’ll immediately whip my rabbinical thinking into entertainment. Once we entertain you, we’re entitled to have an emotional moment, but we try to get back quickly into, “Hey, don’t forget to have fun! We’re the last two people on earth, so let’s not waste it!”
JF: Some of the images used to promote this show bring to mind Samuel Beckett, with the faded proscenium arch, vaudevillian overtones, and bowler hats. Is Beckett an inspiration for this piece?
MP: There’s no question that when you take two guys who look like us, there is a very strong reflection of Waiting For Godot, but that was not on my mind originally. We’re wearing the classic vaudeville uniform, with the hats, which is why Beckett chose it. And it’s important for us to remember this is a comedy, which is what Beckett wrote, although Godot is a pretty poignant comedy. I find it very flattering that people make any comparison towards our piece with that, because they’re both about two souls trying to figure out: what are we doing? Where are we going? Who are we?
JF: I’m reminded of something Beckett said about Godot: that the most important thing about the play is that Estragon’s pants fall down at the end of Act Two. That sums up what both he and you do: let’s talk about serious issues, but let’s have fun.
MP: I love hearing that. That’s it in a nutshell. We can say or do whatever we want, but make sure we drop our trousers!
JF: You’ve worked extensively in theater, film, and TV. From your point of view, what can acting on stage do that film and TV can’t?
MP: When I make a film or TV episode, it’s disconnected; it’s in pieces; I let go of all control. I am in control of nothing except listening and being present for my fellow actors. It’s in the hands of editors, writers, and a committee of people. It’s shot out of order, out of context, with no audience present. It has none of the elements that I’m an addict for in terms of the theater. It does have another element that I’m deeply addicted to, which is being alive in the moment. And if you’re lucky the camera catches it. But you get no response when you’re filming; if there’s laughter or a noise, the take is ruined. A good director can encourage you here and there, but part of the skill of doing film and TV is to need no response, to not need the sounds you hear from an audience: silence when they’re listening, rustling when they’re impatient, laughter when they think something’s funny, and sniffling when they’re moved. All the sounds in the air of a theater are not a part of making a movie or TV episode. When I’m in the theater, the audience and performers on stage are in control of all of it all the time, and you are your own camera as an audience member, choosing whether to do a close-up or a long shot. So it’s a completely different kind of experience, and I think those of us who grew up in the theater think that the single greatest adjustment we have to make when working in front of the camera is that there is no audience.
Jeremy Fassler is a first-year dramaturgy student in the A.R.T./Moscow Art Theater School Institute for Advanced Theater Training at Harvard University.
