HOLLYWOOD AFFAIR
‘Cleo’ reemerges at Alley Theatre, seven months after planned premiere
I n hushed tones, Lawrence Wright and Bob Balaban discuss a scene about a rather loud cinematic disaster. The writer and director have spent parts of seven years collaborating on “Cleo,” Wright’s play about the troubled production of the 1963 film “Cleopatra.” Their rapport gives them the appearance of a pair of cats silently conferring about a movie described perfectly by one cutting critic as “a monumental mouse.”
From the floor of an Alley Theatre rehearsal room actor Lisa Birnbaum, who plays Elizabeth Taylor, declared, “Conflict gives you something to work with.”
And how. “Cleopatra” nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox, becoming the most expensive film ever made at that point in time.
Wright — a reporter from Texas who won a Pulitzer Prize for “The Looming Tower,” his book about Al Qaeda — said, “When I’m working on something, I like to sink in deep.” So he researched the film’s production with the same cellular level interest he did Scientology for his book “Going Clear.” He mentioned the film’s original shooting site, London, where the climate proved unforgiving for a film set in Egypt.
“They flew in the trees and they froze,” Wright said. “So they kept bringing in new fronds to paste on. When the actors spoke, puffs of smoke would come out of their mouths.”
The film’s original director was fired. Then Taylor was hospitalized for pneumonia and fell into a coma, which prompted false reports of her death. The production temporarily shut down before relocating to Rome. There, Taylor and co-star Richard Burton had an affair barely out of sight of Taylor’s husband, singer Eddie Fisher. If modern tabloid journalism wasn’t birthed right then, it certainly could be said to have reached its hormonal, frenzied adolescence.
Naturally, a play about such a turgid and fraught creative undertaking would find some rakes in the yard. “Cleo” certainly did. But where the legacy of “Cleopatra” is dubious — a poorly received “disasterpiece” that prompted more titillating press than positive reviews — “Cleo” makes its world premiere this week as a story with a lovable conclusion. Hurricane Harvey washed the play away last year. But a battered theater company helped it receive a rare theatrical reprieve.
Conflict, it turned out, gave everyone involved something to work with.
Amazing effort
“You should take a close look at the set,” Wright said. “I’m telling you: These guys at the Alley do the most incredible work. Each individual tile is like a piece of art. The attention to detail is remarkable.”
The set of “Cleo” is an awe-inspiring piece that nearly scrapes the ceiling of the Alley’s larger Hubbard Theatre.
“It’s the tallest set that we’ve had in the theater, ever,” said Alley Theatre managing director Dean Gladden. “It had to look spectacular. So it looks spectacular.”
Upstairs, the wardrobe department looked like the aftermath at an explosion at the Crayola factory. The costumes are radiantly colored and plentiful. As Cleopatra, Taylor slipped into and out of a then-unprecedented number of costumes in the film. An ornate headdress sits upon a black wig. The meticulous care that went into the visuals for the production fittingly reflect the theater company’s affinity for the play.
“When you see this play, you’ll realize just how Herculean the effort was,” said Balaban, a veteran of Chicago and New York theater who’s best-known to film and TV viewers for his deadpan comedic roles on “Friends” and films by Christopher Guest and Wes Anderson. “I still can’t believe what this amazing group of people has done. It’s beyond anything anybody thought possible. They began sewing costumes in September not knowing if they’d ever get to use them.”
Wright’s new book, “God Save Texas: A Journey Into the Soul of the Lone Star State,” touches on the production of “Cleo.” Last August, Wright planned to drive to Houston for rehearsals the day before Harvey’s waters penetrated the Alley’s Brutalist fortress. The theater’s elaborate electrical system was destroyed, and its smaller ground-level theater was deluged. Of an estimated 84,000 props, about 6,000 were salvageable.
Scheduled to open at the end of September, “Cleo” didn’t have a chance. The Alley looked around the city for a new space, even reaching out to local high schools. But with school back in session, no suitable stage was available. So Gregory Boyd — the artistic director who retired this year amid allegations of abusive behavior — reluctantly pulled the plug on the show.
Wright thought that was the end of the play. But the Alley looked into some other possibilities, Gladden said, eventually tearing up its 2018 itinerary and rescheduling.
“It really meant moving almost every show in our season,” he said. “You have to reprint all the tickets, reseat everybody for different dates. The final show of our season got bumped to the next fiscal year, so there were financial implications. But that was the only solution if we were going to save the show. It was April or nothing.”
An even bigger complication was scheduling the cast and director, who were brought in from out of town — all of them with future work commitments. Even after the show had been canceled, the cast members told Boyd they wanted to keep rehearsing, which Wright said, “really got to me. This is my seventh play, so I’ve been to a lot of theaters. But the enthusiasm and support here moved me.”
The proposed April date for opening worked for the entire cast except for one actor.
Like Taylor, “Cleo” awakened from its dormant state.
Making it work
A rehearsal is a fascinating process to observe. Ultimately a scene progresses, but little moments get repeated time and again as though controlled fitfully by a remote. Birnbaum’s Taylor kissed Mark Capri, who plays actor Rex Harrison playing Julius Caesar.
“Liz, Lizzy, can you guide his hand there,” Balaban said.
Birnbaum took Capri’s limp arm and guided it up to the small of her back. That little movement provides a comic moment, but one that also underscores the lack of chemistry between Taylor and Harrison. The disconnect provided a more dramatic sense of relief for her impending connection to the Burton, who sauntered in nursing a hangover.
Balaban and Wright provide an interesting study in contrast. Balaban was assembled with perfection, a light blue sweater knotted around his neck over a pink shirt. A theater guy, he’s perfectly vertical at all times. Wright’s T-shirt is visible through an unbuttoned shirt. He sinks more into his seat.
Wright began kicking around the idea for “Cleo” nearly 20 years ago. He was a teen when news of the Taylor/Burton scandal broke.
“When that happened, it was a time in movies and television where married couples still slept in twin beds,” he said. “A very prim time. Suddenly there was this extraordinary tempestuous relationship that just threw the sheets off. In a way, it was the opening note to the sexual revolution.”
He also found interest in the parallels between the Burton/Taylor romance and that of Mark Antony and Cleopatra.
“I’ve written plays and movies, but I’m primarily a nonfiction writer,” Wright said. “What I’ve learned from writing plays and movies, there’s no narrative. It’s all scenes and characters. That’s a valuable thing that has helped me in nonfiction as well. Work harder on scenes, characters. So I took what I did with my journalism and applied it to this; researched all these people. What they said, what they did.”
About seven years ago, Balaban got a call from the Actor’s Studio asking if he’d be interested in directing a reading of Wright’s play, which was originally focused more on the romance between the film’s second director Joe Mankiewicz and script supervisor Rosemary Matthews. In the seven years since, Balaban and Wright steered the story’s evolution to focus more on Taylor and Burton.
“It turned out to be a very different play, but the elements we loved remain,” Balaban said. “I guess we’ve wanted to ring each others’ necks from time to time, but we always found a way — if something was bothering us — to make it work. It’s been an exciting and productive collaboration.”
Two years ago, they had a reading of “Cleo” at the Alley, which is when the theater decided to produce the play’s world premiere, which through force of will happens this week, six months later than scheduled.
“The movie, it never stood a chance,” Balaban said. “It was misbegotten from the beginning. And I suppose there were times over the years Larry wondered why we kept going. But the answer was simple: We just couldn’t stop. And whether this play happens again elsewhere or if it ends here, it’s been a deeply satisfying experience working with this theater. Every single person in this theater — lights, costumes, sets, everybody — has been some of the best I’ve ever worked with. The quality of the workmanship is amazing. And it almost didn’t happen. This group of people made it happen.”