Jerry Zaks can’t help laughing when asked about his status as the heaviest of heavyweight Broadway directors. “Someone told me that the blurb for The Civil War in New York magazine refers to me as an ‘old pro,'” he says. “Can you believe it? ‘Old pro,’ ‘elder statesman,’ ‘veteran’ – man, I look in the mirror and expect to see a 27-year-old! I’ve still got a spring in my step and I still love what I do.”
Labels aside, Zaks is arguably the most successful director in commercial theater today. A four-time Tony Award winner, he is equally at home directing plays and musicals, with a particular gift for comedy. (Early credits include The Foreigner, The Front Page, and Christopher Durang’s Sister Mary Ignatius…, The Marriage of Bette and Boo, and Beyond Therapy.) He also directed Meryl Streep, Diane Keaton, Robert DeNiro, and a pre-Titanic Leonardo DiCaprio in the 1996 feature film version of Scott McPherson’s play Marvin’s Room.
Zaks got his first taste of reality-based musical theater last season when he took over Paul Simon’s The Capeman during previews. (The show’s transformation was dramatic, but not enough to save it.) This time, Frank Wildhorn’s music drew him in.
“I went to see an informal presentation,” Zaks says of The Civil War, “and there was something really touching and affecting about the songs. The music itself was the kind that I just love listening to. It had a lot of passion and rhythm, and I responded to it on a visceral level, the way I did as a kid with the songs of Leiber and Stoller [featured in his long-running hit Smokey Joe’s Café].” Zaks didn’t actually commit himself to The Civil War, however, until after the show opened at Houston’s Alley Theatre last fall in a production directed by co-writer Gregory Boyd. “I began asking myself, ‘What would we have to do to take this material where it needs to be to become a Broadway show?'” he says. The result – with choreography by newcomer Luis Perez, projections by Wendall K. Harrington, and a cast of 30 – opened April 22 at Broadway’s St. James Theatre.
During his busy preview period, the charming, straight-talking director took time to chat with InTheater.
How have you shaped The Civil War since the Alley production?
[The show] didn’t really know what it wanted to be – a concert or a theater piece. The production in Houston was a hybrid of the two. I decided that I would do everything I could to make it work as a piece of theater. Therefore, it must tell some sort of story; there must be characters that we grow to care about, even if we don’t know their names; and there must be a sense of the war pervading everything. Originally, you tended to forget that a war was going on. There was an immense amount of work in terms of editing, cutting, reconceiving, and restaging material, and I feel really good about the transformation.”
This is not a traditional book musical by any means.
No way. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know how it could be that, without becoming Gone With the Wind. The music was conceived as bunch of songs that address different aspects of the war and different lives that were touched by it without any regard to a through-line. We create that sense through the character of Frederick Douglass; through a story involving two slaves and the way they’re eventually reunited; through the story of a husband and wife who are separated. You’re getting a glimpse of a lot of people so that you end up appreciating the tragedy of the war on a gut level. But no, it will never be a conventional book musical. I think to have tried to make it that might have been disastrous.”
It’s interesting that Frederick Douglass is the only historical figure represented.
We added that. He appeared in the earlier version, but not really as a narrator. [Other real-life figures] were thought about and rejected for various reasons. Should there be a dialogue between Frederick Douglass and Jefferson Davis? Why not have the character of Lincoln and see the war through his eyes? We attempted and discarded many things to get to the point where we are now.
How did Ken Burns’ documentary series affect your work?
It made me realize that I couldn’t ever have our actors competing with actual images of the war. The actual images are so striking, they demand that you try to figure out what’s going on in the people’s minds. If they’re displayed simultaneously with an actor, the audience’s eye will invariably be drawn to the image.
…like that video clip of the actual Capeman killer that was used in The Capeman.
That’s exactly right. I don’t think I could ever have convinced anyone else [to delete the clip], but the minute that came on, all of our performers became less interesting. Not because of any inadequacy – Marc Anthony was spectacular – but the minute you see the real thing, you’re taking the audience’s imagination and giving it a slap.
Do you think Frank Wildhorn has gotten an unfair rap from theater critics?
Oh, sure. Of course he has. How dare any critic define what does and doesn’t belong on Broadway? It seems to me that if people are moved by something and they’re willing to see it in a Broadway space, then it belongs on Broadway. I hate people who somehow see themselves as guardians of what should and shouldn’t exist. They’re invariably people who have nothing to do with the creation of anything except their own opinions.
Is the theater establishment coming around on the subject of Wildhorn?
Yes, because he’s a talented guy. The guy oozes music; how can you not be drawn to that? He’s a major league talent. Period. And he’s been just great as a collaborator. I would work with him again in a second.
It’s ironic that you’re doing the least book-oriented Wildhorn show.
Directorially, it was the same task for me as Smokey Joe’s Café. The only difference is that this show is about a very specific, complex subject.
You must wake up every morning laughing about the continuing success of Smokey Joe’s Café.
You bet your bippy. You remember the reviews for that show. A couple of people decided that it didn’t belong on Broadway. Says who? The fact of the matter is, the show has spread joy. As an audience member, if you give yourself over to it, you will walk out feeling really good. And we’ve been blessed to have so many of the original cast members [staying and coming back].
So many revue-type shows have tried to imitate Smokey Joe’s Café – with so little success!
I spent months – months – trying to figure out the right order, the right tone, how we could structure it so that even though there weren’t characters, the audience would get the feeling that they were getting to know the performers. If you have Victor Cook doing something funny in the first act and at the beginning of the second act, when you see him at the end, you expect he’ll be funny. But, instead, he rips your heart out with “I Who Have Nothing.” Suddenly, you care about this guy, even if you don’t know his name. That’s what I’m trying to do in Civil War – structure it so that you understand and care about these characters.
Did you find it odd to see actors in Civil-War era uniforms wearing head mikes and singing very contemporary songs?
That doesn’t bother me at all. But I can’t be objective. It’s all in how willing the audience is to go with it. Hopefully, they notice it and then forget about it. These are state-of-the-art mikes, and sound quality is an important consideration.
This is a weird Tony year for musicals, isn’t it? Fosse, Footloose, and The Civil War could not be more different.
I’ll tell you something – I would hate to have to compare them and award one. Except that I’m a Tony voter, aren’t I? Hmmm, I wonder which one I’ll be voting for.
The Capeman would be up for Best Musical this season.
[Chuckles] Probably. If only we could have fixed that second act.
Was it a good experience?
Exhilarating, sure. How could it not be? There were aspects that were difficult, but the idea of coming in and becoming the general to a wonderfully talented group of soldiers… And they were passionate about it. No one had been shaping what they were doing. That was a joy for me, because by the time we opened, they really believed that they had accomplished a tremendous amount. And they had. We worked around the clock planning, rehearsing, and implementing. It was intense, and I loved it.
Would you work with Paul Simon again?
Maybe. It would really depend on the story, because the man can write music like nobody’s business. But I would want to work with him in a situation where he was only responsible for writing the songs. He found himself, for whatever reason, in a position where he was involved with everything, including areas he had never dealt with before. He was not helped by his writer [Derek Walcott]. That’s all I can say.
How much harder is it to do a new musical than a revival?
A new musical is scarier because there’s no blueprint; no masterpiece you can refer to. On the other hand, once you figure out how you want to do a new musical, and find that it’s working, there’s nothing more satisfying. With the old shows, there’s a terror that you’re going to desecrate the memory of it. When it’s successful, as Guys and Dolls and Forum were, you breathe a tremendous sigh of relief.
Are there any other revivals you’d like to do?
Not really.
All you’d have to do is name it, and it would happen.
Yeah, that’s right. [laughs] Isn’t that neat? Remember, you’re talking to someone who used to be an actor, who used to experience the actor’s rejection. Part of me still marvels at the fact that I probably could get that show done, whatever it is.
Do you regret having directed Martin McDonagh’s Cripple of Inishmaan the same season that the well-honed ensemble of The Beauty Queen of Leenane arrived?
In retrospect, probably. But I’m just not political enough to think of those things. There are a lot of things I would do differently about that production, not just the timing. But I don’t want to get into anything that will sound like sour grapes.
Are you still on the lookout for new plays?
Yes, and I’m going to do a comedy soon. I’ve found one I like, but I can’t talk about it yet. My agenda is to do a nice comedy with words and actors.
Have you considered directing more movies since Marvin’s Room?
You know, it’s tempting. I got a little sniff of it and managed to escape with my skin intact, and it made me think, “If you did this again, you’d probably get a little better at it.” But there are aspects of it, frankly, that are not as enjoyable as the theatre. You rarely have all your actors in the same place at the same time, so the process of forming and overseeing a company doesn’t exist in the same way. The editing process is the best part.
After four Tonys, do you ever think, “I’ve done it all”?
No! That’s death. And you know what’s great about the theatre? Just when you think you’ve got it figured out, you get smacked in the face by something that doesn’t work, or you’re surprised by something that works better than you imagined. It’s a matter of constant problem-solving, and it’s hard for that to become boring.
