Talking with the Stars: Tony Sheldon

He is currently earning rave reviews and audience acclaim as Bernadette in Priscilla at Sydney's Lyric Theatre, but as Tony Sheldon reveals to Troy Dodds in a special one on one interview, he almost didn't accept the role that is expected to win him a Helpmann Award later this year...

TD: The Priscilla experience has been a massive one, it's one hell of a show - what's it all been like?
TS: Considering that when I first heard the rumours about a Priscilla musical my first reaction was "NO WAY...I've worn enough frocks", it has turned out to be one of the most rewarding experiences in my forty-something years in the business. Simon Phillips brought me into the project on day one. The workshop process was by necessity brief to accomodate the dates already booked for the theatre but nonetheless we managed to work through three or four entirely different versions of the script before arriving at the book we have now. The last and most crucial decision was to forego an original score and use the music from the film. I confess I was leery of being involved in a "jukebox" musical but I now realise this was the turning point in the show's development; if we hadn't used those beloved songs the audience would never have embraced the show as vociferously as they surely have. Although I never lost faith in the production team's vision for the show, there were a few hairy weeks when I discovered they were auditioning other actors here and overseas to play my role and I was mortified to think Bernadette might be brought to life by a television or film "name". Then during previews, the producers' oft-repeated mantra..."The Bus is the Star of the show"...was put to the test when the bus refused to come out of its dressing room for several performances, but we learned from the cheers that greeted us at the curtain calls that the show could indeed triumph without its temperamental leading lady!


TD: Dancing With The Stars, NYE Celebrations and now being flown to LA for the G'day LA Festival - Priscilla is certainly getting out there in the public eye. Has that been an important part of the show's success?
TS: The publicity machine has always been in place but I don't think the initial advertising campaign captured the essence of what makes the show such a joyous experience in the theatre. It is estimated that one in four Australians have seen, or are aware of, the film but until they see the musical for themselves people don't realise that we've taken the material to a whole different level. We've got a wildly expensive and glitzy new commercial playing in cinemas but the more television exposure and personal appearances we make, the better!


TD: The show is being promoted extensively as a fun, summer musical - but it does have a meaningful script deep down too, would you agree?
TS: One of the sticking points we've had with Stephan Eliot, the film's creator, is his belief that we've watered down the grittiness of the movie, but in my opinion a musical presenting three homosexuals as the central characters must carry a degree of reponsibility. Simon Phillips always allowed the actors to have a voice during the workshops, and I was fierce about maintaining a level of integrity amidst the campery and vulgarity. I flatly refused to say a speech about how gay men were irresponsible and unfit to raise children. Whether or not it was appropriate for the character, I felt it was the wrong message to be sending out in a political climate where gay people are already treated as second class citizens. Beneath all the frippery, Priscilla is about family. A family of three lost souls travelling together in search of somewhere to fit in.
It's Thelma and Louise, except the bus doesn't sail over a cliff at the end.


TD: You've written a show with your mother, Toni Lamond. Tell me about the process?
The Times of My Life came out of my mother's arthritis. Last year she was preparing for a three month regional tour of Victoria with her cabaret act when she was forced to cancel at the last minute because her poor knees weren't up to the strain of all those one-night stands. (As Elaine Stritch says, "It isn't the work...it's the stairs". ) So there was mum crying on the phone that her performing days were finally over and I suddenly thought of Mabel Mercer, the legendary Manhattan chanteuse who always performed her act sitting in an armchair. And I decided to write mum a new show where she could sit comfortably and tell the story of our brilliant theatrical family while on a screen above her the audience sees film and video highlights of her career, which pretty much encompasses the history of Australian show-business. Of course she still leaps to her feet and runs around during those big numbers, but as my partner Tony Taylor said to her, "As long as you've got a voice and a brain, it ain't over yet, honey!".


TD: Was she an inspiration growing up?
TS: Mum is and always will be an inspiration to many people because she's the best of the best, but growing up in a family where my grandparents were stars of the Tivoli, my dad was a Fosse dancer and a television producer, my aunt was a Grammy Award-winning recording star who wrote I Am Woman, there was a helluva lot to live up to if you were planning on going into the family business. I deliberately chose to be a dramatic actor first and foremost to avoid the inevitable comparisons and it was the best thing I could have done. I brought something new to the table that the public hadn't seen from our mob. People are always going to compare you to a famous parent, and obviously I have many of mum's features and mannerisms onstage, but now I can enjoy the similarities whereas in my younger days I felt trapped by them. It's common to almost all kids from show business families and equally common for the kids to rebel in some way. Just ask David Campbell and Matthew Newton!


TD: You've been in hit shows (Priscilla for example) and shows that haven't done all that well (Witches of Eastwick for example). How's it feel when a show doesn't go so well, compared to when you're involved in a hit?
TS: I was largely protected from the flop/hit problem because I spent so much of my career in subsidised theatre companies where a show would run six to eight weeks to a subscription audience then you started rehearsing the next one. But I've been in some heartbreakers. The production of Legend of King O'Malley where the cast didn't actually know the show had closed until we arrived for work one night and found a handwritten notice on the door of the theatre was one. Another was I Love My Wife, where we had 12 month contracts and we folded after three weeks in Sydney (even though we'd recorded a cast album and our photos were up outside the Comedy Theatre in Melbourne as the next attraction). The production of Paul Rudnick's off-Broadway hit Jeffrey with Mark Lee, Robyn Arthur and Jamie Oxenbould never got as far as the first rehearsal. And of course, the late, lamented Witches of Eastwick, a show that everyone adored and which lost something like $10 million before the producers pulled the plug, even while audiences were screaming and cheering every night. Not to mention the countless workshops over the years of new musicals that never saw the light of day, most of them dire but some of them truly exciting. I sympathise with everyone involved in the early closure of Titanic but it won't be the last unappreciated masterpiece by a long chalk. Being in a hit is wonderful if you love the show you're in, torture if you don't. And one becomes accustomed to success surprisingly quickly; you become quite indignant when you spot the occasional empty seat in the house.


TD: The Producers was a show you were well-awarded for and appeared to have a lot of fun with. What was it like?
TS: The Producers was not a show I ever wanted to be involved in. I turned down the chance to audition three times and finally only went to keep my friends happy. I was interested in playing Max Bialystock but I was only ever seriously considered for Roger De Bris, and I remember the American production team laughed so uproariously at my audition that I decided to think of the money and accept the gig. Always fatal. After I signed the contract they cut out every single thing I did that had made them laugh in the first place. They wanted me to replicate to the last detail the performance that Gary Beach gave on Broadway and I thought I was going to die because I actually didn't admire Gary Beach's performance. It also didn't help that our director, who was the New York stage manager, had absolutely no sense of humour. After we opened in Melbourne I used to come home every night and cry. I thought I was absolutely terrible in the role, straightjacketed and witless. I was so miserable I actually went stone deaf for several weeks and had to go into hospital to have my eardrums perforated; I'm sure it was psychosomatic. Then we were laid off for five weeks over Christmas and I was invited to replace Andrew McFarlane in a Stephen Sewell play at Griffin during the break. Well, I had the best time and completely got my confidence back. I returned to The Producers with new resolve and gave the performance I'd always intended to give; I grew out the "Gary Beach brown" hair dye and to my surprise found that my hair had turned almost white. I was delighted but management was less confident ("Will you still be funny?" they asked). The audience and critical response was even better in Sydney and this time I felt I'd earned it. My darling friend Grant Piro, who was so brilliant as Carmen Ghia, just shrugged philosophically. "You're just doing what you did at the audition," he said.


TD: Where do you see Australian theatre at the moment?
I don't think the theatre scene here is all that different from thirty years ago except there are maybe 100 times more young actors being turned out every year from the drama schools and shows now cost 100 times more to produce so tickets are 100 times more expensive. The popularity of cable tv, the internet and home theatres has sadly gotten people out of the habit of going out and I think it's a pity that producers, particularly those in subsidised theatre, feel that they must rely more on tv names to attract audiences. But that's a worldwide trend and I suspect "stunt casting" is here to stay. I am so proud of our Priscilla producers for resisting that temptation and properly serving the piece by going with actors who are right for the roles. It would be nice to see a return to the glory days of J.C. Williamson's where the theatre created its own stars. And, of course, there's that Great Australian Musical we've all been waiting for.