Scott Greer is one of Philadelphia’s busiest, most Barrymore Award-winning actors with a resume as long as his 6-foot-plus frame.
Having just finished his third run at playwright Duncan MacMillan’s one-person play ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ at the Arden Theatre, Greer will have barely enough time to eat Christmas dinner before his Jan. 10 start as the lead in Neil Simon’s ‘Last of the Red Hot Lovers’ at Walnut Street Theatre.
It is also important to note that one of Greer’s most famous roles — his 2015 Barrymore Award-winning turn as Charlie in playwright Samuel D. Hunter’s ‘The Whale’ at Theatre Exile — this week, becomes the province of actor Brendan Fraser in what is being hailed as an Oscar-nominated-must-see.
Metro spoke with Greer before closing ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ — for which he won 2018’s Barrymore for Outstanding Actor Performance — before running into rehearsals for “Red Hot Lovers.”
You have been performing ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ since 2017. Who is this character now that he wasn’t when you started?
As much as possible, it is me, despite the fact that ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ isn’t my story, and I don’t have a suicidal mother. The greatest compliment I get is when people come up say that they thought that I wrote this. I have help in that department from the playwrights.
Are you encouraged to make it your own?
Yes. A lot of it is coming from me. It is very personal. And, after all these times doing it – I did it a fourth time in Milwaukee – two things stick out: it is so ingrained in me that I have a lot more space to navigate its improv stuff. I’m also much more relaxed. We’re all coming at mental health issues very differently in the post-pandemic. I feel as if people antennae are now sharpened in a way they weren’t before. Not that I ever took this for granted – I was always blessed – but prior to Covid, I worked five shows a year for 25 years-or-more. To have it taken away, then have it come back now, I feel very privileged.
A shift in vibe from ‘Every Brilliant Thing’ is Neil Simon’s comedy, ‘Last of the Red Hot Lovers,’ and its so-called male dilemmas. Tell us about that.
For me, doing a show starts with the playwright, and Simon has a very particular rhythm, a style informed by his upbringing of early jobs in the writers’ room for some of television’s first sketch comedy programs. He wrote jokes. Part of his comic genius is being able to bring that to theater. Simon writes real three-dimensional people. My character is a complicated guy, navigating a midlife crisis, is in-between feeling guilty and frustrated, and onto this, Simon builds line-after-line, layer-upon-layer of jokes – then a topper. There’s music to that. You have to be in-tune with the melodies. There’s also a big difference in the size of the Walnut and the intimacy of the Arden, especially as, during “Every Brilliant Thing,” all the lights are up and it is more communal. At the Arden, you can move a pinkie and have it seen, where at the Walnut, you have to move your whole hand. The challenge, then, is to bring nuance to something so sizable.
‘Red Hot’ premiered on Broadway in 1969 and Simon’s language may be construed as misogynistic in the present day. What are the conversations regarding its political incorrectness?
‘Red Hot’ is definitely a play of its time. The way we talk about relationships now between men and women is different than it was in 1969. That was a more obviously patriarchal society than we have now, and at that time, those conversations were beginning – with not so much change, sadly. Now, with my character, we have talked about how to navigate all that while being true to the play and the period. There is real heart in these characters, though.
This week, director Darren Aronofsky’s film ‘The Whale,’ starring Brendan Fraser as a tortured 600-pound man, hits theaters. Fraser has been outspoken as to how the role took its toll. What can you say about having to go through this, arduously, night-after-night during your run?
Though I wasn’t moving very much, it was physically demanding due to the confines and weight of the suit which weighed over 40 pounds. In the old Theatre Exile, there was no way to get to the stage through this one door. So I had to get onstage before the show, and have my dressers put me into the weight-suit before the lights came up. With the curtain down, I would sit and wait on stage while the audience filed in. It was as if I was in the audience, hearing them talking before the curtain would rise. It was surreal.
‘The Whale’ had to be rough on you in terms of living out this man’s sorrows for two hours, months on end.
The emotional freight of this play, especially towards its end – his breakdown, physically maintaining that he is in congestive heart failure so his lungs are filling up, wheezing and finding it very hard to breathe – was a real challenge. I actually hyperventilated and passed out just during the rehearsals. I had to practice as much at breathing as I did use a walker and wearing the suit. In a way, though, he is happy and relieved at the end of the play – he has greater connection with his daughter, even after he’s discussed losing his lover. Though his health has deteriorated, at the end of the play he is fulfilled and joyful. Luckily, I didn’t bring any of that home with me.
