By Kristi Casey Sanders
Richard Thomas, best known for playing John Boy on “The Waltons,” made his Broadway debut at age 17. Since then, he hasn’t gone more than four years without treading the boards somewhere. This month, he comes to The Fabulous Fox Theatre in Twelve Angry Men.
Have you been to Atlanta before?
I used to go there a lot. In the days before the satellite feed, we all went to Chicago and Atlanta; it was always on the press junket. I love the homes, the hospitality and the people. The very first Brennan’s Restaurant I went to there, before the one in New Orleans. We have very close family friends [in Atlanta]. I’m thrilled we get to do the show there; it’s a perfect play to do a tour of because it never talks down to the audience and it shows us we’re all in the same boat.
Is this your first tour?
This is my first full-on Broadway tour, and I always wanted to tour. It was a missing piece of the puzzle for me. If you read memoirs of actors, it was always an integral part of an actor’s life. I’m excited to do it. Plays used to tour all the time, but it’s rare to see them tour anymore. The idea of plays touring again is very exciting to me. When people tend to think of plays performing on Broadway, they think big musicals.
The only problem is being away from home and our families. We like to say it’s the “Twelve Angry Wives” tour. On the East Coast, we’ve been able to stay connected (everyone’s just a short train ride or flight away), but that’ll change when we’re in the South and Midwest. Everybody feels that absence.
How would you describe Twelve Angry Men?
The play is a period piece. It was written in 1954 about something that is still very much at the heart of our society, which has a participatory form of government. To make every vote count, you have to vote your conscience. You have to go through the system and discover what it means for a citizen to speak their conscience about the situation, to make a unanimous decision about something where there seems to be irreconcilable points of view. It’s a demonstration of how far we’ve come and how much we have left to grapple over.
Tell us about the character you play.
My character, Juror No. 8, is not a man who likes conflict. He is not there to right the wrongs of the world. But we do know he is an architect, and in the 1950s, I think that means he is interested in building something for the public good. What he brings into the room is an open mind and a natural civility, which is something you need for a good conversation. But [the other jurors] don’t want to have a discussion; they want to vote.
The play is about getting people to talk — going through the process before they make a decision. The process is what protects us as citizens. No. 8 doesn’t go into the room as an adversary, but he ends up being one by default. So it’s not about whether or not he thinks the person is guilty, he has to vote “not guilty” so they can talk.
What is it about him that fascinates you?
I love the idea of how deeply he listens, how willing he is to be convinced one way or another; that he does find himself in conflict, but was somehow dragged there against his will, so he realizes, “even I have the capacity to become irrational against my will.”
You can literally step out on stage with no preconceptions and take that journey. It’s all about listening to the 11 other guys, and everyone’s got their weight to pull. It’s a true ensemble piece in which each character is equally important.
What has been the audience reaction to the play?
It’s been staggeringly successful. It was this way in New York. I didn’t know if lightning would strike twice, but it has. It’s like a short ride on a fast train. The audience becomes so vocal. It’s surprising to me how funny it can be — you’d never realize that watching the movie. The audience laughs a lot; they get angry … I was amazed at how active the audience is. When the antagonists get their comeuppance, they always get a response from the audience.
“[Sir John] Gielgud said it takes 20 years to make an actor. We’re not playing an instrument; we are the instrument. We are not painting a canvas; we are the canvas.”
Your career as an actor has been prolific, on stage, television and film. Which do you prefer?
Most actors will tell you that the most exciting way to act is on the stage. It’s the most fulfilling, the most exciting, and the most rewarding way because you do the whole text every night, so you can reinvestigate, delve in, and get more intimate and familiar with it. And, you get to work in a room with the audience. Also, there’s a wonderful company feeling. Everyone comes to the theater every night. Another great thing about acting is, if you’re lucky enough, it is something you can do your whole life. Juror No. 9 is in his 70s. You never have to retire.
Your parents were both dancers with the New York City Ballet, and they owned the New York School of Ballet. Were they disappointed that you weren’t called to dance instead of act?
Oh, no. My parents were stage parents in the best sense of the word. Their only concern was whatever I should do, I should be happy with it. I am a very verbal person. I can’t imagine engaging in a profession where I’m not allowed to talk.
You have seven children; are any of them interested in acting?
I have a 21-year-old daughter and she’s studying theater in school. She’s done some professional stuff. The little guy, the 10-year-old … I think he has the bad gene; he probably has what it takes to do it if he wants it.
What is the “bad gene”?
It’s something you see very early on in children … a way of imitating language. They manifest their imagination in storytelling ways and dramatic ways, and they have less fear of play and emotional expression in public. That performance personality starts to emerge, that facility … they have a sense of the body, a sense of the physical line; they can be very expressive. One of the indicators of performing talent is an inherent musicality, a love of language.
Do you have any advice for kids with the “bad gene”?
I don’t really have any general advice because it’s all about specifics. Listen. Pay attention. Watch. And try to be true; try to play true. Young performers have to really, really want it because it’s hard to succeed. The chances of great success in my profession are very, very small. It’s not a profession you go into to be successful; it’s a profession you go into because it’s something you enjoy.
[Sir John] Gielgud said it takes 20 years to make an actor. We’re not playing an instrument; we are the instrument. We are not painting a canvas; we are the canvas.
Twelve Angry Men plays The Fabulous Fox Theatre Jan. 2-7, 2007.
