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The Interviews

Tom Verica: Adventures In Shondaland

If the chances of making it in Hollywood are about as sure a thing as shooting craps, Tom Verica is currently throwing consective sevens, and an admiring and growing crowd is gathering around the table.

Of course, it took the Philly native about 20 years to hop on this hot streak, but you’ve seen him all over the damn place: Among many other projects, he was Bill Castroverde on LA Law, Dick Gordon in From the Earth to the Moon, Kyle Moran in Providence, and the doctor who discovers the tube of fungicide medication in Elaine’s medicine chest on Seinfeld.

It seemed like a cinch that producer Shonda Rhimes, TV’s newest and most respected creative force, would tap Tom for her TV drama empire. Upon landing in ShondaLand (the name of her production company), he planted a flag on some impressive career ground: He’s giving new definition to the term “playing dead,” appearing (and disappearing) as recent-Emmy-winner Viola Davis’ late husband on How To Get Away With Murder.

The difference, and it’s a big one: In addition to his Murder gig, he’s serving as co-executive producer for Shonda’s other blockbuster, Scandal. And he’s established a Plan B+ career for himself as one of TV’s go-to directors (the long list includes Private Practice, The Mentalist, Ugly Betty, and Boston Legal).

Yo, Tom, what are you going to do next? Disney World?  Or at least crawl into a hammock and maybe take a short nap?

“I always have my eye on the next step, the next level,” he tells me in a recent call from LA. “But with that said, I do feel incredibly fortunate to have my cake and eat it too. That’s in regards to working on a show that I truly enjoy creatively, and executive producing and directing. And on the same lot, right next door, being able to work as an actor opposite Viola Davis. If you can write down what scenario would be great…”

Well, he pretty much just wrote that scenario, rather accurately. As far as acting, he’s done plenty, but directing is a whole new animal.

“Directing is not easy, but it’s thrilling and challenging,” he says. ” [It requires] the ability to change up and navigate. Some episodes are thrillers, some episodes are dark comedies, some are flat-out action and drama. As a director, that excites and challenges me. It really gives me the freedom to play in the sandbox, in different genres. I call it riding the bull. You get on and stay with it and not try to control too much of where it’s going. You have to be willing to go where the script takes you.”

Rhimes’ scripts, and her ShondaLand production company, are taking Tom on a wild bull ride, and look how he’s holding on. In 2014, ABC happily gave over its entire Thursday primetime lineup to ShondaLand dramas: Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away with Murder

“It’s the mark of her talent,” Tom says, regarding the reason Rhimes plugs into audiences, in an age where attention spans are dwindling. “I think she taps into more than just a female market. I think she managed to navigate into different types of drama. She makes it seem effortless. She really has her finger on the pulse of how people are thinking and what they are going through. It transcends normal and basic relationships. She asks a lot of questions and mixes it with some humor. It’s very difficult to do, and to pull off in a landscape where there are so many options. She’s really in a groove and it’s exciting to be around.”

Tom may know a little bit about navigating relationships too. He and his wife, Kira Arne, have a marriage that offers something unique in Hollywood: mileage.

“We’ve been married for fifteen years, and in Hollywood that’s about 75 years,” he says. “My wife — not that it’s important, but since we’re talking about this — is African American. We don’t lead with that. We attribute the success of our marriage to communication and working through issues. We’re not dealing the way interracial couples in the Sixties had to deal, and it will be different for our kids when they get older, but at the core of it, it’s built on love and respect for one another. She makes me better, smarter, and more talented with the challenging nature of who we are as people. It’s such an alive and spirited partnership that we constantly feed off of one another, in a good way.”

Seems like Tom is multitasking his career in a good way too.

 

This article originally ran in Everybody’s magazine.

 

 

 

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The Interviews

Greg Kinnear

“I’m not gonna lie to you, it didn’t grab me,” Greg Kinnear says about his first hear-tell of the concept for the Universal film Flash of Genius (originally called Windshield Wiper Man).

However, after doing his due diligence, Kinnear found the David-versus-Goliath story to be both bigger than life and warmly, genuinely human (much like the actor himself, who, in a little more than a decade, has quietly managed to become a joyous and regular part of America’s moviegoing experience).

Kinnear plays one Bob Kearns, a real-life professor who, in the push-button sixties, invented and patented the intermittent windshield wiper (you heard me).

At first, Kearns is wooed by the intrigued Ford Motor Company, and, in his innocent enthusiasm, is over the moon even before the astronauts. Thinking he hit the happy highway, Kearns prepares himself and his brood for life as large as a Ford Galaxie 500.

Unfortunately, those happy endings only happen in the movies.

Instead, Kearns’ dreams are stalled when Ford decides to go it alone with the wiper, leaving him and his empty pockets out in the pouring rain, patent or no patent.

Although he is constantly being talked into a comfortable financial settlement (by Alan Alda as a crusading attorney and Dermot Mulroney as Kearns’ backer/pal with a groovy sixties hairdo), Kearns desires more than mere money: he wants Ford to admit they stole his idea.

So he makes himself a pain in the ass, a ping in Ford’s powerful engine. Acting as his own counsel, an obsessed Kearns fights the corporate giant – and the legal system – over the course of decades.

His family, who could have lived happily ever after from some sweet settlement money, instead suffers from devastating financial and emotional wreckage, as well as big-time bullying from one of the most powerful companies on Earth.

Sound a little off the beaten path for a principled-man-versus-corporate-greed flick? If so, you may first want to conduct an exit interview with the preview audiences, who were cheering at Kearns’ small (and then larger) victories, and also laughing aloud at the inventor’s inventive methods of defending himself in court.

The crowd cheered up a storm – a storm that could require windshield wipers.

“Anyone who understands patent law will understand the magnitude of what we were up against,” Kinnear says. “There is no drier, more uninteresting kind of law, but at the end of the day, this is really a very small story about a guy and his family and the damage that was done to him.”

Like Silkwood and other films before it, the devil can have his damn details. Here, the real story is in the story. You won’t need to take the LSATs or study engineering templates before you buy a ticket. It’s more heart than brain.

“I was thinking about why I liked it so much,” Kinnear says of Kearns’ tale, “and I kind of felt that many of these ‘Little Guy Takes On the Corporation’ films have big, sweeping, cinematic themes. They tend to deal with these big issues about mercury in the water or nuclear power. Big, big themes. And yet [Flash of Genius] was about a guy who invented a wiper mechanism. Not that that’s not a great invention, but because it’s seems so small potatoes, you have to set that aside. The story can’t really be about wipers. You realize that it’s a battle over principle. He gets [Ford] to acknowledge that what they did was wrong, and it felt like that was worth a lot.”

Needless to say, Ford was not exactly willing to ride shotgun on this trip down Memory Lane.

“Any Ford automobiles in this film were not provided by the Ford Motor Company, I assure you,” Kinnear says. “Listen, I think that Ford is treated fairly in this movie. These guys aren’t walking around in black hats and twirling their mustaches. People are marginalized by corporations all the time. That’s not an unusual story. And when that happens, there is a process. The process for justice, as [Alan Alda’s lawyer character] explains to Kearns, is that you don’t get a tickertape parade and keys to the city. You get a check. That’s how justice is dispensed. The issue in the movie is that they just underestimated this man. They picked the wrong guy. They picked the guy who was not looking for a compromise or a settlement or easy money. He was looking for them to acknowledge what they had done was wrong. Corporations – while they are made up of people to some degree – are really made up of policies. Number one on corporate policies’ lists is ‘we didn’t do anything wrong.’ So that butts up against the one tough son of a bitch they came across, and that spelled misfortune for them.”

Like Kearns, Kinnear’s life and acting career was blazed on a completely different trail. His story you have not heard before. He started out simply enough, being born in Indiana, but his father worked as a career diplomat for the U.S. State Department. This caused his Midwestern family to globetrot.

A self-proclaimed newshound, Kinnear was drawn to the excitement of what was happening in the big world as opposed to what was happening on the big screen. Ironically, one of America’s most popular actors had not grown up with the movies in mind.

“I didn’t go to the movies a lot,” he says of his expat youth. “I saw Jaws on my ninth birthday. A pivotal movie experience for me, which I told to Steven Spielberg, by the way. I didn’t see a lot of movies when I was a kid. We were living in Lebanon and Greece. There was a local theatre that played American movies where we lived, that I used to clean. It was a little janitor job that I had there one summer. So I saw some movies there. They were all part of the Armed Forces magazine route. They weren’t the blockbusters. By the time they got to Greece, they were kind of old news. I remember seeing The Exorcist which I probably shouldn’t have, being that I was too young and I snuck into the theater. That was traumatizing. Even now, I don’t see a lot of movies, and I’m regretful that my movie literacy is somewhat stunted. But I’m trying to catch up on it.”

Meanwhile, one could have trouble catching up with Kinnear’s own growing list of film appearances.

In the early nineties, he had quickly hopped from a legendary stint as the pre-snarky host of cable TV’s Talk Soup to the plum role of Harrison Ford’s little brother in Sabrina. He received an Oscar nomination for his work in As Good As It Gets, and drew raves for You’ve Got Mail, The Matador, Little Miss Sunshine, Nurse Betty and the Bob Crane biopic, Auto Focus. And let’s not forget that he sang and danced with Meryl Streep, not in Mamma Mia, but in Stuck On You.

His career seems to be anything but, uh, intermittent. Today he appears in the Ricky Gervais comedy Ghost Town at the very same multiplex as Flash of Genius.

However, he is humble about his track record.

“Of course, it’s misleading,” he says of the common misconception that he never stops getting jobs in Hollywood. “Probably the cable and the satellite of it all, combined with movies that do come out [makes it look like] there is this non-stop thing happening. I can just tell you without any question that I have big, huge holes. I have a five-year-old and a two-year-old daughter and I’ve gotten to spend an extensive amount of time with them. This year was kind of a crazy year. I did Baby Mama and Ghost Town and [Flash of Genius] and then this Paul Greengrass movie [Green Zone, coming in 2009] and that was a strange cluster of films. Prior to that, I hadn’t worked in like a year. It comes and goes. It ebbs and flows a little bit. A lot of the stuff that I do is supporting. If you look at my career, a lot of it is smaller, supporting stuff. When I did The Gift, I wasn’t spending the same amount of time that Cate Blanchett was. So that’s partly an illusion. But yes, I’ve had some consistency and for that I’m grateful. It’s not like I’m looking for huge windows to not work. I feel like I’m lucky for what has come.”

For many aspiring actors who yearn to be on the big screen, Kinnear’s star-crossed career may seem like the stuff of fairy tales, but he insists it’s more about being grounded.

“I keep waiting to have that epiphany where I wake up one morning and I say that I finally have a handle on this,” he says of his profession. “That I got this whole thing in the bag. That I have it figured out. That just hasn’t happened. I suspect it never does. If it appears to be a fairy tale, then that’s a fairy tale, because I’ve had to work pretty hard and it hasn’t come easy. The truth is that I’ve had plenty of ups and downs. But now I have a better understanding of the technique of acting, the craft of it. It’s always an ongoing process. I didn’t use to feel like an actor. I do now. And I’m very proud to be an actor.”

Meanwhile, he continues to light up the contemporary movie screen, one memorable role at a time, as steady and dependable as Bob Kearn’s windshield wipers.

 

This article originally appeared in Popentertainment.com.

 

Categories
The Interviews

Dermot Mulroney

This Hollywood survivor tells us how he survived Southeast Asia while making his flick, Trade of Innocents.

Take a look at Dermot Mulroney’s IMDb. Holy crap, it goes on for miles. It may not have occurred to you until this very moment, but this cat has worked steadily in the movies since Reagan was President. Go ahead, name somebody famous – yep, he’s worked with them: Julia Roberts. Paul Newman. Leonardo DiCaprio. Jane Fonda. Steve Buschemi. Even Emilio Estevez.

For three decades, he has brought his own gravelly gravity to film, often cast as the Crackerjack prize in a romcom, or a determined suburban dad (in Gracie), or a no-count like Dirty Steve in Young Guns, but he is never the same character twice. Ever.

Granted, he’s had every opportunity to phone it in and coast on his steady in-demandness, but he doesn’t play that game.
“I try to be real good every time I take on a role,” he tells me. “That’s what’s half the fun.”

Dermot Mulroney Trade of Innocents

Even when that fun is no fun at all, like the subject matter of one of his recent projects, Trade of Innocents. In it, he plays a human trafficking investigator in Southeast Asia. Heavy drama for sure, but another battle won for the brave actor, who again courageously stumbles into unknown territory.

“I have to admit that at first I didn’t know anything about child sex slavery,” he says. “So I looked into it right away and recognized what kind of massive problem it is. It blew me away. When I saw the script, I knew I had to do it.”

Directed by Christopher Bessette (of The Enemy God and the documentary Niagara: Thunder of the Waters), the film deals with the engine of guilt, and how it drives the characters in ways that will not let them return to Start.

It co-stars Oscar-winner Mira Sorvino, playing Mulroney’s wife, whose character is grieving for the loss of her own young daughter under a similar devastating consequence.

Dermot Mulroney Trade of Innocents

“She’s one of our finest actors,” he says of Sorvino. “And on top of that, she’s been around the world with the UN and other organizations.”

True that: she was named as Goodwill Ambassador to combat human trafficking for the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC). Coincidence? We think not.

The haunting film won “Best of the Fest” at the Breckenridge Festival of Film and Best Picture winner at the International Christian Visual Media Festival. The Huffington Post called it “unflinching” but “with a glimmer of hope.”

“There are so few films that have touched on this,” Mulroney says. “It almost has pop appeal, but it couldn’t be darker material. It’s a strange and effective combination.”

The steamy jungle of Thailand was only the next career layover in a series of globetrots. Previously, he was in icy Canada filming the The Grey.

“I finished shooting The Grey in February 2012 and went right away to Thailand finishing this movie. Back-to-back days in between shooting those two movies. We were based in Vancouver, British Columbia but the scenes of the storm and the plane wreck were in Smithers, British Columbia. That’s 595 miles north of Vancouver. I went from one extreme to another: 35 degrees below zero in British Columbia and then to Thailand where we are easily shooting in 100 degrees, 105. It’s half the fun to have wild experiences like that.”

He’s also a man on the road earning a living for his new family (he has two young daughters), with long jags away from home.

“Thank goodness for Skype,” he says.

Dermot Mulroney Trade of Innocents

Mulroney came of age in Alexandria, Virginia, and attended Northwestern University, graduating in 1985. He started working as an actor in Hollywood almost immediately after that, first in melodramatic TV movies (The Drug Knot, Sins of Innocence). It wasn’t long before Young Guns (1988) and Longtime Companion (1989) placed him higher on the go-to list, and he was immersed in a lifetime of steady work. It’s an actor’s dream, but not a dream that he conjured from the beginning.

“I was so dedicated to the idea that having a shot as an actor in Hollywood was impossible,” he says. “My Plan A was to learn film and to hopefully become a cameraman or cinematographer. I was taking acting classes, but I was also studying film, so I was learning how to pull cable and load film and be involved in making movies. And it happened anyway.”

His turn as Michael in the 1997 smash hit My Best Friend’s Wedding established him as the romantic leading man: handsome, yes, but also grounded and smart. The funny, ironic script won millions of repeat fans and accomplished two tasks: it knocked the romantic comedy on its ass while showing that Mulroney could be that guy’s guy who women love. It was the anti-rom-com.

“That’s what was genius about that movie,” he says. “That’s why it’s had the life it’s had. It was exactly the opposite of what you thought it was going to be. That’s so hard to do in the movies. Sometimes the simplest idea is the best.

“She doesn’t get the guy. It’s that classic, classic portrait of the sad clown, and yet you’re looking at Julia Roberts! I watched it again about two years ago, and I couldn’t believe how dark and edgy it was. It has qualities that you’ve never seen in any other movie. It was really smart.”

A long-time companion of independent, small films, Mulroney has also lent his talents to such gems as the now-classic surreal comedy Living in Oblivion (“It sticks around. It sticks in your head.”) and the acclaimed 2001 sleeper hit Lovely & Amazing. In addition, he’s made memorable TV appearances on Friends (as Rachel’s nemesis) and recently on New Girl (as an older love interest).

“It’s always changing,” he says of his career. “I’m definitely in a great place now. I was also in a great place when I started. But I had ebbs and flows. I’ve had creativity block and opportunity. These things are never the same.”

Good to hear, Derm! Your acting roles may always vary, but don’t you ever change.

Photos courtesy of Monterey Media Inc.

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The Interviews

Bebe Neuwirth

Oh, snap! Morticia Addams was only one of many morphs in a continually evolving career.

Bebe Neuwirth tells me this story, and it’s so Bebe Neuwirth (we’ll discuss in a moment):

The “Lilith” part I auditioned for [on Cheers] was one scene. The character was described as a “clinical, very uptight person.” It was regarding a date [with Frasier Crane] that had gone very badly. It even said in the character description, “hair straight back in a bun.” Kelsey Grammer has a line: “I can count the comb marks in your hair.” She was all buttoned up, so I dressed like that for the audition. I just put my hair in a ballet bun. I’ve been wearing my hair like that for ballet class all my life. I buttoned up my shirt and wore a pencil skirt. I went in and got the part and did the read through. We broke for lunch. I went home, took my hair out of the bun, put on my black leather miniskirt and my high heels and my satin shirt  — remember, this was the Eighties — and I went back to work. I looked completely different. I looked like myself. I was 26 years old. I was a little fox. Ted [Danson] introduced himself to me again. I said, “No, I already met you. I played Lilith.”

Right? The stunningly beautiful, multitalented actress with the distinctive voice, the two Tonys, the two Emmys, and the endless supply of grace and depth continues to make us mistakenly introduce ourselves to her again. After a solid and varied career in TV, film and stage [including a recent Broadway turn as Morticia Addams in The Addams Family], the Princeton, NJ native knocks us for another loop. This time, it’s with an eclectic new CD called Porcelain [Leopard Works Records].

“It’s a very interesting process to put together an album,” she says, “with the feeling that the person is going to listen to these songs in a certain order.  You go, ‘Wow, I had no idea that Tom Waits and Edith Piaf would go together so well, but listen to that!’  It’s a very interesting creative process.”

The CD does its digital best to contain her amazing vocal talent.

“I guess I have an unusual voice,” she says. “People recognize me by my voice all the time. In my generation, as a dancer in musical theater, you had to be able to sing also. So I took singing lessons when I was a kid. I really did most of my training on the job. I was able to carry a tune. It’s not a small voice or a giant voice.”

That voice also naturally lends itself to Shakespeare, which Neuwirth recently performed as Titania (perfect, right?) in A Midsummer Night’s Dream for The Classic Stage Company.

“It reminds me of dancing in a ballet,” she says of Shakespearian drama. “If you do a classical ballet, there is gorgeous music swelling behind you. In Shakespeare, no matter how you decide to do the play, or what the production is, and it doesn’t matter who the players are, that beautiful music is always there. That music in Shakespeare is the text. It’s thrilling — emotionally, psychically, spiritually — to live and breathe in those characters and say those words.”

She is still best remembered for the character of Lilith Crane, who was long-running on Cheers and often-recurring on Frasier.

“I always thought she was kind of heartbreaking,” Neuwirth says. “She was socially inept. She didn’t know how to be with people. She did have this fiery, very passionate soul inside. She was just awkward socially.”

A far cry from Neuwirth herself, yet most people would be surprised to learn that she does not share her beloved TV character’s academic credentials.

“I was a terrible student,” she says. “I really wasn’t interested in anything at the time. I was just finishing high school so that I could go to New York City and dance. People think I’m really smart. I didn’t go to college. I’m not stupid. I’m a fairly bright person. But I just play smart people.”

This article originally appeared in Popentertainment.com.

Categories
The Interviews

Mohr! Mohr! Mohr! How Do You Like It? How Do You Like It?

The beloved funnyman now rocks a powerful podcast.

By Ronald Sklar

Photography by Harley Hall.

One person not caught up in the Charlie Sheen hoopla is comedian/actor Jay Mohr. In fact, Sheen, sober, sane and coherent, chilled uncharacteristically with the put-it-there-pal Mohr, who has a gift of bringing out the best in people. The two shared the shit on the highly downloaded podcast Mohr Stories, which Jay Mohr hosts.

Mohr tells me, “I think Charlie opened up with me because for the first time in a decade, somebody was really asking him detailed questions about things that he had acted in. I needed to know about Platoon. I needed to know about Wall Street. I needed to know about his relationship with Jim Abrams on Hot Shots. We both wanted to talk about Apocalypse Now, and then the conversation took a turn toward great Oscar snubs [of which Sheen’s father, Martin, was one for Apocalypse Now].”

Amazingly, the conversation continued to take breathtaking screeches on tight corners, drawing us in deeper and deeper, as good podcasts are able to do. Podcasts are new, but they mark the return of the art of conversation, and Mohr knows how to hold one with the best of them. Sheen indulged in his passion for baseball trivia, at one point even showing Mohr his prized Babe Ruth autographed baseball. Sheen hadn’t seemed this animated in a long time, in a way that wouldn’t make headlines.

Mohr says, “I think sports and film are interrelated in the passion they inspire in others and when you get a good conversation going. So you go down this rabbit hole with sports and movies.”

The rabbit hole in which Mohr travels sports quite a ride. The New Jersey native began his long stand-up life while still baby-faced and in high school, back in the late Eighties. During those hungry years, he formed The Persona.

“The crutch was that I was so young and that I really looked young,” he says, “which bred a complete inferiority complex, I’m sure, which is why I probably have always been so aggressive.”

He ducked and rolled into the cutthroat world of standup just in time for the great migration to Hollywood, when every comedian was being considered as the next Seinfeld.

“I got in right under the curtain closing of the late Eighties comedy boom,” he says. “I was just tall enough to ride that ride. I rode to Buffalo for $50, and I knew it was costing me $150, but I had to go show people in Buffalo because maybe they will invite me back to headline another time.”

His shuffle off to Buffalo would have to wait. Before not very long at all, he was featured on Saturday Night Live (1993-1995) and he played the sitcom brother on season one of The Jeff Foxworthy Show. Then, if you can believe it hadn’t happened yet, came The Big Break.

Mohr explains, “Cameron Crowe called me on the set of The Jeff Foxworthy Show and said, ‘What are you doing for the next three months?’ I thought, ‘I’m going to be the biggest star in the world. This is it. I am on my way.’”

The classic role of sleazy agent Bob Sugar in Jerry Maguire drop-kicked Mohr higher into the beautiful sky. The film, released at the end of 1996, opened at #1 and eventually grossed over $273 million worldwide. Immediately following came the romantic comedy Picture Perfect, where Mohr played against 1997’s most recognizable woman, Jennifer Anniston.

Forget Anniston — what was it like to see yourself up there on the big screen?

“It’s almost seems entirely too short,” he says. “It always seems entirely too brief. I’m a showoff. I’m a comic. I like the parts with me in it the most.”

You’ve got to give him that, since he earned every second of screen time he’s clocked.

“I come from a family that worked their balls off,” he says. “I grew up in very middle-class, Italian-Catholic/Irish-Catholic New Jersey. Every pair of socks in that sock drawer you earned. Nothing you have was ever handed to you. You worked for ten years to put a six-foot deck in the back of your house. That was your reward.”

As the millennium turned, Fox offered him the groundbreaking series Action, in which he played an uber-aggressive Hollywood producer Peter Dragon. The series had “classic” written all over it, but many critics decreed “too inside!”

“It was ahead of its time,” Mohr says. “It may have behooved Fox to try it on another night instead of simply canceling it.”

Eventually, as the digital age took hold of audiences and sent them scattering and fractioning, Mohr went for what he does best.

“I have only one discernable skill,” he says, “and it’s talking. One thing I’ve always wished I could change about myself is my inability to just stop talking. They told me that since I was in first grade. I always got thrown out of class because I wouldn’t stop talking.”

If only those teachers could see him now, hosting one of the most downloaded podcasts on the planet. His Mohr Stories features his brand of banter-with-the-buddies, along with a heapin’ helpin’ of his brilliant mimicry (his impressions of Colin Quinn, Norm MacDonald, Woody Allen and Christopher Walken, among others, must not be missed). He also banters with the likes of Jay Leno, The Black Crowes, fellow podcast king Adam Carolla, and even former death-row inmate Damien Echols.

“I do pride myself on the positivity of the podcast,” he says. “I’m not really ball washing as much as you may think.”

The conversations are at the very least compelling, especially the can’t miss one-on-one with former boxer Ray Mancini, who discusses the accidental death of his challenger, South Korean boxer Duk Koo Kim, in 1982. The incident, which was one big sucker punch in the history of sports, spiraled Mancini into a deep depression, which he has battled ever since.

Mohr says, “What’s amazing to me about the Ray Mancini interview is when he cries. He cries at the memory of his mother icing his hand. It blew me away. People don’t realize that Ray Mancini retired at 24. That’s when guys start in boxing. They nurse you along until you go pro. He had a lot left. He left a lot on the table. But when your hands end someone’s life, it sort of takes that out of you. I’m talking to a man who has killed someone, and now this word has more import than it has ever had.”

For Mohr, the alpha and the omega is the late George Carlin (“He was pretty obsessive compulsive about his act being perfectly timed.”), and another comedy hero of his is unlikely: his beautiful wife, Nikki Cox, late of the series Las Vegas.

“She’s funnier than any writer that I had write things for me,” he says. “She’s much more dada than I am. My standup is at least half her writing. She’ll actually hand me pieces of paper on an airplane while I’m sleeping. She’ll write things that I never would have thought of.”

Long trip, and in many ways, just beginning. New man, making fresh with the old tricks. But a Mohr Stories podcasts promises big humor with a dash of reflection. You’re listening to a man who has been around the block and lived to tell the tale. And, he admits, he still learning when to keep his think-quick mouth shut

He says, “It takes a long time to stand there and simply be comfortable in the quiet.”

 

 

 

Listen to Mohr Stories for free!

 

 

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Alicia Witt

Alicia Witt has been steadily holding on to her day job – that of an extremely successful working actor – until she can make real her dream job: that of singer-songwriter. That goal is becoming ever more realized now that she has debuted her self-titled EP and its well-received first single, “Anyway.”

“Making my own music has been a dream of mine for my entire life,” she confesses to me from her home in LA. “Three years ago, I finally just started doing it. All of the sudden, there were all these songs, and the more I write, the more come out. I can’t compare this time to any other time in my life because I feel that there was something missing in all the years before that.”

This new completeness – this wholeness – can be considered closure on all those “missing” years, which she attempted to fulfill with gigs on television and in movies.

In fact, you’ll recognize this redheaded stunner from any number of obscure little projects, such as The Sopranos, Friday Night Lights, Law and Order, Cybill, Ally McBeal, Twin Peaks, and even That’s Incredible. You may have also seen her in films like Dune, Four Rooms and Mr. Holland’s Opus.

However, like a good deal of art, the joy of creativity had sprung from the depths of pain and heartache.

“[The single] ‘Anyway,’ came about at the end of a really toxic relationship,” she says. “I started writing the song when things were really bad, with the understanding that the relationship was over. Still, I was trying to figure out why it had ended and why it had happened in the first place; how I could get myself into a place in my life where I was okay with being in a situation like that. And as I was writing the song, I was like, ‘I don’t really care anymore. It doesn’t matter. It’s over. There is no point in figuring out why or how.’”

The how and the why may not matter, but to Witt, the truth always does.

“There is not anything in the song that isn’t true,” she says. “In writing my own songs, even if I feel that it’s not something specific that happened to me, which this one is, I always want the words to be true. I’ll never put a lyric in because it rhymes or it fits. I would rather spend a really long time agonizing over the right lyrics so that it works with the music but also means what I wanted it to mean.”

The subject of the song, who shall remain nameless, is long gone, but the memories linger on (and some of them not so bad).

“We’re not in touch anymore,” she says of her former love. “I guess if he heard it, he would recognize the scenario. But some really great things can come out of breakups. I’m really grateful for the relationship for many reasons. I think everything happens for a reason. It’s so cool to be able to turn something like that into a song.”

Witt’s distinctive take on her newfound creative path reflects other aspects of her unique life, including her unusual career, education and even her taste in music.

“When I was growing up, I was kind of weird musically,” she says. “I loved the big band era more than anything. It was almost like I was born in 1941. I know all of those lyrics and singers. And I love Nat King Cole and songwriters like George Gershwin and Cole Porter. There was actually a radio station back home that I was a little obsessed with, [big-band format] WNEB. I listened to that station morning, noon and night.

“My mom listened to a lot of the sixties-style stuff, like the early Beatles. It wasn’t until I was much older, a teenager, that I started appreciating The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. There were some current pop songs that I loved, like ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart.’ For the most part, I was listening to big band music. I also loved piano-driven singer-songwriters like Elton John and Billy Joel and even Barry Manilow. I do think he’s a great songwriter.”

Before her eventual move to LA as a teenager, Witt was home-schooled in Worcester, Massachusetts by her parents, both of whom were teachers. Fun fact: her mom was once listed in The Guinness Book of World Records as having the longest hair in the world, at twelve feet (and she wore it in an updo).

“Home schooling was definitely better in some ways,” she says, “because my parents’ philosophy was that they wanted their kids to explore whatever they were most interested in at any given time. I studied classical piano very seriously. I didn’t have any particular curriculum to stick to. It wasn’t a regimented kind of education where we studied history and math and geography every day. It was more like I would find a chapter in a history book that interested me and I would read that for a week. We didn’t have tests. It was really unconventional, and I did know that. At that time, home schooling was not done nearly as much as it is today.”

Her TV debut, at age five, was on the ABC series That’s Incredible, where she – incredibly – recited Shakespeare. The nation responded by exclaiming, “That’s incredible!”

“It was my first time in front of an audience,” she recalls. “I can still remember the feeling I had the moment the audience responded to something that I had done. I was sort of astounded. I was doing a scene from Romeo and Juliet, with the host, John Davidson, as Romeo. He had his little pocket Shakespeare book that he was reading from. I remember that he had a long-stemmed rose that he was going to give me as part of the reading. At one point, he went to give me the rose, and he asked me if Romeo gave Juliet a rose and I said no, it wasn’t in the play. And so he tossed it over his shoulder.”

Among those watching this broadcast were film director David Lynch’s people, who were having a heck of a time casting a certain child character for his upcoming Dune movie adaption.

She says, “They had difficulty casting the role of a five-year-old who could speak in an incredibly adept way. [The character’s] mother had drunk this magic potion, the Water of Life. It gave the daughter all of this knowledge that she wasn’t supposed to have. The casting director thought that because I could read Shakespeare, I must be able to do this. I went to New York for the casting. It was like a dream. It was the first time that I realized that acting was a viable career option. I always loved acting, but I didn’t know that it was a possibility. I knew from that point on that I wanted to do that for the rest of my life. Before that, I thought I was going to be a painter and have a farm and run a restaurant and be a governess.”

She worked with Lynch again in Twin Peaks, his enormously successful foray into weekly television. The series baffled and confounded the country, but hooked millions of obsessed fans.

“David had actually written a part for me because we worked together on Dune,” Witt says. “My mother had gotten in touch with him when we moved to LA. At that time, I was basically trying to get an agent. I wasn’t a child actor. I just did that one film at age seven. [My character on Twin Peaks] played the piano; I’m still not exactly sure why she was dressed in a princess outfit and wearing a tiara. I didn’t really watch TV much, but I was excited to get the work with David.”

Despite her lack of attention to television, she had spent a lot time on it if not in front of it. By the mid-nineties, she had landed a regular role on the Cybill Shepherd sitcom, Cybill, playing the star’s quirky, cynical daughter.

“That was the first job I had that allowed me to quit my day job as a pianist at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel,” Witt says. “It was a very, very, very big deal for me. I will always remember the day I got the part. I had gone through all these auditions and then there was a network test. There were all these people in suits sitting around staring at me. I had gone in and done my scenes the same way I had done them in the past five auditions. It was the final round, so basically I was either going to get it or not get it. I walked out of there thinking, ‘well, I did my best.’ About thirty seconds later, I was walking to my car and I heard a voice behind me call my name and it was Cybill. She was walking toward me with a few of the producers behind her and she said, ‘Congratulations, honey, you’ve got it! I just wanted to tell you!’ I screamed so loud. I called all my friends!”

The highly regarded series was also a chance for her to display her musical chops (while playing “Chopsticks!”).

She recalls, “There was a piano on the set, and I don’t think it ever came up in meetings that I played the piano. When we were doing rehearsals for the pilot, they figured I might as well be playing the piano, because it was there. They worked out a little skit where I started out playing this complicated Mendelssohn piece, and then Cybill walks in and I started playing ‘Chopsticks.’”

There were exceptions to her little-or-no-TV rule; for instance, she was already a fan of the heavily-music-packedcomedy-drama Ally McBeal before she was cast in the show.

“I was really excited to be on it and that came about because I was a huge Ally McBeal fan,” she says. “It was one of the only times that I genuinely felt star struck. There have only been a few shows in my life that I have watched religiously. I’m much more into watching movies than I am television. I wanted to make sure I was home every Monday night to watch it. I was obsessed with it.”

She also became hooked after the fact, like when she became a Sopranos fan after she landed the role as a film exec who “helps” Christopher (Michael Imperioli) with his screenplay.

“I didn’t watch The Sopranos until I was on it,” she says, “I went back and watched it and became addicted. The experience was great. I felt like I was making a movie. There was a great crew and there was plenty of time to do as many takes as we needed. It was a very different process [than what I was used to with previous shows]. I realized that TV was changing a lot. It felt like shooting scenes in a movie. The lighting was beautiful and the acting was realistic and the writing was among the best I’ve ever read. I loved Michael Imperioli so much. He is really, really magical to work with.”

Movies figured into her career as well. She was part of a number of successful films post-Dune, including the classic Mr. Holland’s Opus, about the life and career of a high-school music teacher, starring Richard Dreyfuss.

She says, “I had a special connection to that film because it was not just about music, but it was about teachers. There was so much in it that my dad had gone through, even though my dad wasn’t a music teacher; he was a science teacher. To me, it was more about teachers than it was about music, specifically. I was just excited to get to work with Richard Dreyfuss, who I think is a great actor. He was really nurturing to me but he never talked down. He really encouraged me and made me feel very welcome. After he was nominated for an Oscar for that role, he took everyone in the cast and crew out to dinner. He reserved a restaurant for the whole bunch of us. He made a speech thanking us, saying that he would not have been nominated without us.”

Witt’s current TV project is Friday Night Lights, the acclaimed series that will air its final season this year. Here, she continues her streak of playing unusual characters in high-quality shows.

“I play basically white trash, which is really fun,” she says. “My character had a kid when she was in high school. She’s now in her thirties and she has a fifteen-year-old daughter. She is not the most responsible mother in the world, to say the least. She really tries her best but she makes some really messed-up judgment calls. She doesn’t think anything of having random guys come out of her bedroom early in the morning when her daughter is getting ready for school. She dresses way age-inappropriate. She has a really good heart, but she makes some questionable decisions. I completely loved playing her.

“I could not be prouder to be a part of [Friday Night Lights]. I’ve never worked on anything like it before. They have three cameras shooting at once. There is not really any blocking or rehearsal. There is an energy of complete realism about it that I don’t think it can be compared to anything, not even the more realistic type of film. It’s not even documentary style; it’s like these cameras are just placed around, capturing moments in people’s lives. As an actor, you don’t even know where the camera is going to be because it moves around from take to take. You almost feel like there are no cameras. It’s completely brilliant. And there is so much improvising that happens. I mean, obviously there are unbelievable scripts that we work from but half the time the directors say, okay, just ignore the words and say whatever you want. I can’t stress enough how incredible the lack of continuity is. It’s so free. I think it really shows up in the work. You don’t feel like you’re watching actors.”

However, we will continue to watch Witt as she takes us down more fascinating, unpredictable roads, involving both her music and acting.

“I can’t believe it, not even today,” she says as she looks back at her acting career and looks forward to her singing career. “It’s such an incredible blessing. It’s a privilege to be able to do what I love for a living. I never, ever take that for granted or stop being amazed by it.”

 

This article originally ran in Popentertainment.com.

 

Categories
The Interviews

Laura Prepon

“I tend to play women who are intelligent and confident, not these little naïve girls,” Laura Prepon tells me. “I had moved out of my house when I was 15. Maybe it’s from that. I don’t know. But it’s a compliment that people think I have my stuff together.”

Fortunately for Prepon, art imitates life, and vice-versa. The tall redhead we’ve loved for years (and in reruns) onThat 70s Show is turning her now-blonde head toward the future: Netflix, that is. In the wake of Kevin Spacey’s straight-to-Netflix megahit, House of Cards, comes Prepon co-starring in a women-in-prison series, Orange Is the New Black.

“Netflix totally left us alone,” she says, “and we pushed the envelope like you would not believe.”

Based on the prison memoir by Piper Kerman, the series co-stars Jason Biggs, Kate Mulgrew and Taylor Schilling. Prepon plays a drug smuggler caught and sent to the Big House. Be sure to recognize her with this spoiler alert: her hair has been dyed jet black.

“[My character] is this rockabilly international drug mule,” she says. “I need black hair for that. People are not going to recognize me in this role and it’s amazing. As an actor, one of the cooler things is when people don’t know that it’s me.”

The series, which debuts this summer, is a welcome-back for an actress we always admired for her gravity and seamless confidence. As Donna onThat 70s Show, she suffered fools gladly and, with her arms folded, transcended the kitsch cliché. Her best prep for that may have been her former career as a model.

“I was not a fan of it,” she says of the modeling business, which came after her when she was 15. “I kind of stumbled into it. I was really into sports and hanging out with my friends. Modeling never even crossed my mind. Ever. Within months, I moved to Milan by myself, with all the castings, all the cattle calls. When you are 15-years old living in a foreign country by yourself, you really have to take care of yourself.”

The bookings came easy, but the satisfaction was hard-bitten.

“You’re really just a hanger for clothes,” she says. “Some people don’t mind it. They love it. But for me personally, it was just slowly chipping away at me. The essence of me – and all I had to give – didn’t really matter. This is not me. This is not what I want to do.”

Brighter skies beckoned, however. Modeling is how she transitioned to acting. After a series of TV commercials (she booked the very first commercial she auditioned for) came an opportunity for a new Fox series called The Kids Are Alright, later renamed That 70s Show. Prepon had just turned 18 and had never acted before, yet she won the audition.

The series was an immediate hit and ran for eight years, then forevermore in reruns.

“We were all so new,” she said of her young co-stars, which included Topher Grace, Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis. “Danny Masterson was the only one who had done anything. None of us knew what we were doing, but we were all so perfect for these characters. All of us helped each other grow. We’re a family. We’re still like family. Nobody knew what it was going to turn into, that it was going to be this huge, amazing show. It’s so amazing to be part of television history like that.”

To what does she owe the iconic status of the series?

“The chemistry of the characters,” she says. “That’s what it’s all about. That’s what it all comes down to.”

Prepon, now all grown up, plays a woman about to turn 30 in The Kitchen. With all due respect to Molly Ringwald, this could be the worst cinematic birthday ever for Prepon’s character, who finds out that her boyfriend (Bryan Greenberg) is cheating on her – with her friends! As a topper, it seems that her best friend is secretly in love with her. Thank goodness cake and alcohol will be served.

On her own recent landmark birthday experience, Prepon says, “People are nervous about turning 30. But I think about all the experiences I’ve had thus far in my life and I was so fortunate to have them. I cannot wait for what’s going to come in my thirties. It’s going to be so cool. I just embrace it.”

Her experience with the film is already embraceable, as her acting talents were tested and, in a way, vacuum-sealed.

“The entire movie not only takes place in one location but in one room,” she says. “It was like a play, and the whole thing is like a choreographed dance.”

The dance continues as Prepon continues to test her limits. She, as usual, is ahead of the game. Even she admits that, as a youth, she was listening to The Psychedelic Furs when her friends were listening to New Kids on the Block.

“Even at a young age, I was always way beyond my years,” she reflects. “I was always searching for something. I don’t know what it was, but there was something out there for me. And when I found acting, I was like, this is what I was looking for. I never took drama classes, I was never in a theater group. None of my friends acted. It didn’t even enter my mind.”

Seems like The Kid is alright.

 

This article originally ran in Popentertainment.com

 

 

Categories
The Interviews

Wilmer Valderrama

Actor Wilmer Valderrama lends his distinctive voice to an anti-bullying campaign.

As Fez on That 70s Show, Wilmer Valderrama played the funniest nerd who ever lived (“It takes a nerd to create a Fez,” he tells me). However, we all know that playing — and even being — a nerd is not always Klingons and candy.

Well, maybe it is candy.

Valderrama has loaned his everybody-knows-it voice to the Nerds candy brand (from the Willy Wonka company) in order to promote the much-talked-about “Stomp Out Bullying” campaign.

He knows whereof he speaks. Even though he was born in Miami, Vilderrama moved with his family to their native Venezuela before returning again to the US. It was then when he got his first taste of being bullied.

“When I came to the United States, I didn’t even know how to speak English,” he says. “I didn’t even know how to count to three. Then learning how to speak English with an accent was even worse. Kids could be so cruel. I was 14-years old and considered inferior and somewhat dumb. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. I was very well educated and getting straight A’s. The sad part about it is that the educational level that we had in Venezuela was two grades ahead of America. I had learned everything two years prior to that, but I didn’t know how to speak English.”

Of course, being whip-smart as he was, he learned how to turn lemons into lemonade with ice. He personally rebranded, stamping his nerd-guy persona as “one-of-a-kind.” From that moment forward, he was leading the conga line.

“For me it was about how unique my accent was and how I expressed myself,” he says,  “and most importantly, it was staying in touch with my roots that allowed me to stand my ground. And it allowed me to be who I eventually became.”

“Stomp Out Bullying” is an anti-bullying and cyber harassment organization for teens. It has teamed with Wonka to launch the “Nerds Unite!” campaign, to remind the world that we are all nerds at heart.

“That’s why I love this campaign so much,” Vilderrama says,  “because I can relate to it so directly and so organically. I really wish I had someone at that age who told me, ‘hey, man, it’s okay to be different,’ to give me permission to be great, to be myself. When you hear that from someone you love and respect, from a parent or grandparent or someone you look up to, things could be really easier.

“It was the ability I had to be different [which allowed me] to create a career. I think teens need permission to achieve greatness. They sometimes feel that society or the entertainment industry or even our families set out an ideal for what perfection is, what beautiful is and what successful is. And those definitions and theories are often misguided. It’s hard to achieve them.”

Being that he was unlike any other snowflake in the storm, he drifted with that. It spun his life and his fate into a new direction, landing him on one of the most successful television series of the last few decades.

These days, his production company is working on a long list of projects for various networks, including MTV and Disney. In addition, he continues to appear before the camera, with a part in an upcoming Spike Lee joint later this year.

“I’m at a really good place in my life right now,” he says. “I’m reaching things that I’ve worked so hard to be able to do. I’m really proud of the choices I’ve made so far.”

This article originally ran in Popentetainment.com.

Categories
The Interviews

Benjamin Walker

Sounds like a sure-fire snoozefest, doesn’t it: a Broadway musical about the life and times of President Andrew Jackson, in office from 1829 to 1837. Not exactly the makings of a crowd pleaser.

But take a smart, funny book, some amazing songs that literally rock da house, and a sexy-pants actor named Benjamin Walker, and now you really have something. And so, at last, does Broadway, with the hit musical Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.

In fact, this sizzling show, which started downtown and slowly but surely worked its way up to the big league, is now the hottest ticket in New York. And that, in this economy, is not just whistling Dixie.

Walker, born and raised in Georgia and educated at Juilliard, is the new face – and voice and body – to be reckoned with on The Great White Way. His performance as our hip-swiveling seventh president is garnering double-takes, rave reviews, Tony talk and a growing legion of fans. He has been with the show since its obscure little birth in LA in 2007, and now his loyalty and multi-faceted talent are paying off big time.

In addition, his New York comedy show, Find the Funny, in which he performs stand-up along with some other stand-up-and-comers, is also becoming a major draw. In just a few short years, the little boy from Georgia has become “the man” in Manhattan.

Here, he and I talk about all that’s good:

How does it feel to move the show uptown?

It’s an honor to be accepted into the Broadway community. The creative team has done a wonderful job of maintaining the intimacy that we had downtown at the Jacobs [theater].

The show has gone through quite an evolution since its inception, and you’ve been loyal to the project from the very beginning. Are there any further changes or alterations to the show now that it’s on Broadway?

Not particularly. As a cast we are enjoying the expanse of having such large audiences. It’s easier to tell the story of populism when there is a roaring audience of 1,100.

Does the critical praise for you and the show surprise you at all? 

We’ve been the underdogs for so long that we certainly appreciate any support we can get.

Many people are saying that even though the story is set in early American history, the show’s themes are more relevant now than ever before. Would you agree? 

It is chilling to track through Jackson’s life and see the parallels. We have to examine the past in order to refrain from making the same mistakes.

What type of research (if at all) did you have to do to prepare for the role of Andrew Jackson? 

I read a few wonderful books: American Lion by John Meacham and The Life of Andrew Jackson by Robert Remini, to name a couple.

While growing up, who were your musical influences?  

My mother is a musician, a piano player, so I grew up in a very musical household, where we learned to appreciate all forms of music.

What do you like to do when you are not performing? 

This show is so physically taxing that in my free time, I rest.

You’ve been in New York City at least since your Juilliard days. How does a Southern boy like you enjoy living in New York?  

I love it. I have to say, the longer I live here, the more I consider it home.

You are involved with a comedy project called Find the Funny. How is that show, and stand-up comedy, a passion for you? 

I started Find the Funny in college, as a way to perform and give other new comics stage time, and it has grown into a wonderful community of comics, writers, and performers. It is that community that inspires me, that group of people continuing to learn and perfect their craft. Stand-up is a passion for me because it is theater at its most basic: one person stands up in front of the group and tells a story. The more isolated we become as a generation, the more we need that type of interaction.

Do you have any plans or projects we can know about in the coming year or so? 

Right now I’m focusing on Jackson, and telling his story to the best of my ability, eight shows a week.

 

This article originally appeared in Popentertainment.com

 

 

Categories
TV Dust Blog

Jim Nabors Not Being Gomer Pyle

Here’s the “Heart-Touching Magic of Jim Nabors,” but even more importantly, here’s the brain-twisting disorientation of seeing Jim simultaneously not be Gomer Pyle AND wear a leisure suit. Wow. Just wow.

“America’s Romantic Recording Star,” as the announcer asks us to now call him, sings “Help Me Make It Through The Night” because he knows how tough this will be for us.

He also sings “You Don’t Know Me,” and we really don’t, do we?

We’re informed that he is not only loved by millions, but by countless millions. Good news for Jim, but not good news for the Census Bureau.

Categories
TV Dust Blog

Jean Stapleton Not Being Edith Bunker

This is a good disorienting clip where Jean Stapleton is trying not to sound or act like a dingbat (she succeeds for the most part, but there is something in her manner that still suggests Edith).

If you really want your mind blown, try watching Jean presenting Emmy awards during the early Seventies (apparently not available on YouTube, thanks a lot). She is out to blow America away, and succeeds in the most disorienting way, with her straight posture, elegant grace and theatrical delivery (picture it: “the nominees ahhhh…”).

Still, you can bask in this. Disorient yourselves watching Edith not be Edith.