by John Lithgow
Old age is a hardship for a man of the theater. Live long enough and you outlast all the people who remember the events that shaped your life. In 2002, toward the end of my month in Amherst, I was chatting idly with my father in the condo living room. As I recall, my mother was busying herself in the kitchen nearby. In a few days I would leave the two of them and return to Los Angeles. Anticipating my departure, all of us were feeling a little morose. For some reason, my father and I took up the subject of theater critics. I had recently suffered through the critical failure of a big Broadway musical in which I’d played the leading role. The New York Times notice had been hard on the show and dismissive of me. The review had tormented my father. It was only the latest of many moments when my bad press had driven him crazy. As he had often done before, he’d even written an unsent letter of vehement protest to the Times reviewer. In our conversation, the two of us were trying to figure out why he took these things so hard.
“Why does it bug you so much, Dad?” I asked. “I’ve had lots of good reviews in my time and lots of bad ones. Pans really don’t bother me that much anymore. I think they upset you more than they upset me.”
“I don’t know,” he answered, perplexed. “I guess I must have some vicarious investment in what you do. I experience it all through you. After all, I didn’t have a career of great achievement . . .”
“Whoa!” I shouted. “Dad! Stop right there! You take that back! I’m not going to let you get away with that! You’ve had a magnificent career! Look what you created. Look how many lives you changed. You gave so many people their first jobs. You inspired them. You introduced thousands of people to theater. To Shakespeare! Strangers come up and tell me that all the time. You’re my hero. I would never have done any of this if it weren’t for you. I owe you everything. And I’m one of hundreds. Thousands! I’m not going to let you say that!”
Dad blinked and wrinkled his brow as I worked myself into a righteous passion. I ended my diatribe. After a moment’s silence, he turned toward the kitchen and called out in a tremulous voice: “Did you hear that, Sarah?”
It was deeply important for him to hear my rant, for me to deliver it, and for my mother to overhear the exchange and bear witness. It was one last gift the three of us were able to give each other. For me, it was a reaffirmation of the love and respect I felt for my father. For my mother it was a validation of her long life of unstinting support for him. And for him it was one last round of applause, one last rave review, one last ovation. Nine years later, at the beginning of 2011, I completed this book. I have come to see it as their story as much as mine. If you have reached this sentence, you yourself have finally finished it. This particular drama has come to an end. It is time for me to take a bow, wave to the crowd, and leave the stage.
Acknowledgments
I’ve written books before, but they’ve been picture books for children. These were all in rhyming verse and none was over thirty pages long. Drama is something else altogether. I could not have undertaken it without the encouragement and support of several people. Robert Miller, Julia Cheiffetz, Jonathan Galassi, and Jean Strouse helped me get started. My publisher, Jonathan Burnham, and my editor, Tim Duggan, added fuel to the fire. Tim in particular helped me shape and focus the book and reminded me often, at crucial moments, to “show, don’t tell.” Steve Martin read the very first completed draft of the book, and his acute editorial advice provided ample evidence that he has completely missed his calling.
I am a hopeless self-archivist, so the process of gathering photos from the past sixty-five years was fitful and arduous. I was helped by Matt Weinberg, who haunted the Harvard Theatre Collection; Frank Vlastnik, who camped out at the Lincoln Center Library of the Performing Arts; and Zoe Chapin, who tended to the business of photo credits, permissions, and fees.
As described in the preceding pages, the book was inspired by an autobiographical one-man show which I first performed in early 2008. This was the first time I had written material for myself based on events from my own life. Here, too, I required a lot of encouragement. Therefore thanks are also due to Jack O’Brien, who egged me on to write the show, and André Bishop of Lincoln Center, who gave me a setting to present it in. The warm reception for the piece helped prod me to expand it into a book. An actor thrives on applause, so I thank my New York audiences as well.
As the book neared completion, Mr. Duggan’s assistant, Emily Cunningham, took it in hand and marshaled the talents of her HarperCollins colleagues to steer me through the last stages of the publication process. Everyone I met in the offices of Harper persuaded me that my book was in expert hands.
Thanks finally to each person who appeared in this drama. Major and minor players alike, from every chapter of my life, gave me all the material I needed for my first long-form piece of writing. Chief among these people are the main characters of my early years: my sisters, my brother, my mother, and especially my late father, Arthur Lithgow. As in every other thing that I have attempted, my wife, Mary, was forbearing and supportive. This time, I was venturing into her area of expertise. She is no stranger to the challenge of writing a book over the long haul. I could have never sustained the effort without the benefit of her experience, wisdom, and love.
About the Author
JOHN LITHGOW is an award-winning actor who has starred on stage and in film and television. A New York Times bestselling author of eight books for children, he lives in New York and Los Angeles.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Credits
Cover design by Richard Ljoenes
Cover photograph © John Midgley
Copyright
The names and identifying characteristics of some of the individuals featured throughout this book have been changed to protect their privacy.
DRAMA. Copyright © 2011 by John Lithgow. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition October 2011 ISBN: 9780062097736
HarperCollins books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. For information, please write: Special Markets Department, HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022.
All images are courtesy of the author unless otherwise noted.
FIRST EDITION
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lithgow, John
Drama : an actor’s education / John Lithgow.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-06-173497-7 (hardback)
1. Lithgow, John 2. Actors—United States—Biography. I. Title.
PN2287.L473A3 2011
792.02’8092—dc22
[B] 2011008172
11 12 13 14 15 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street
Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia
http://www.harpercollins.com.au/ebooks
Canada
HarperCollins Canada
2 Bloor Street East - 20th Floor
Toronto, ON, M4W, 1A8, Canada
http://www.harpercollins.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6
8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollins.com