Craggy-faced character actor Philip Baker Hall, facing his 80th birthday with his gruff but lovable image intact, has taken on the role of an elderly parent facing his mortality — and facing down his middle-aged son — in the New American Theatre (formerly Circus Theatricals) revival of Robert Anderson’s I Never Sang for My Father.

Philip Baker Hall

“I saw the original production in New York, ’68 or ’69,” says Hall — who, at that time, was about the same age as the son in the play. Now, referring to the play’s father/son skirmishes, he notes,  “It’s a very tricky relationship. I can’t help but defend the father’s position because I’m playing the role. I’m virtually the age of the character I am playing, so I certainly see it from my point of view, both as the actor and as a person.”

He confesses that the play touches on issues that he’s already begun thinking about, if not already experienced. “Sometimes I think I’m becoming this guy. These issues – they’re inescapable. Loss of power, loss of all those badges of identity that are related to your working life…Very few people are still working at 80, in any business. Actors can get away with it, to a point.”

Directed by Cameron Watson, Anderson’s turbulent drama tells the story of the tumultuous and sometimes humorous relationship between a college professor (John Sloan), his loving mother (Anne Gee Byrd) and his aging, domineering father (Hall).

The story is narrated by the son, a 40-year-old who is still grappling with issues of guilt and regret. But Anderson takes care not to present the father as a villain, nor is the son the hero. The pair represents two diametrically opposed souls who failed to find common ground and, because of that, have become emotionally scarred. One line in the play, “I’ve lived my whole life so that I could look any man in the eye, and tell him to go straight to hell,” delivered by the father to his son, perhaps sums up the essence of Tom’s belligerent attitude towards his offspring, his family and the world.

When I tell Hall I am expecting some impassioned speeches, he laughs. “There are many! You won’t be disappointed. There might be too many, actually.”

With a career that spans 40 years, Hall has been a fixture in film, television and theater since the 1970s. He made his film debut playing a priest in Cowards (1970). In 1975, Hall moved to Los Angeles to carve out a career in television. He appeared in three series during the mid-’70s, including Man From Atlantis (1977). Since then, Hall has appeared in over 200 guest roles on television shows.

Actually, Hall is one of those character actors whom you see all the time but don’t
necessarily recognize. Notably he played the dead-pan, hard-boiled Mr. Bookman, the library cop, in an episode of Seinfeld (1991) that is considered one of the all-time comedy classics.

Hall gained considerable attention for his portrayal of Richard Nixon in the Donald Freed/Arnold Stone one-man play Secret Honor (1983, Los Angeles Actors’ Theatre),  which was turned into a film by Robert Altman a year later. Though the film garnered mixed reviews, the actor’s portrayal of Nixon was hailed as a tour de force. During the `80s he appeared in teen classics such as Say Anything, Three O’Clock High and How I Got Into College, then progressed to supporting roles in blockbuster action flicks such as The Rock, Air Force One and Enemy of the State, and played opposite Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty.

Through the ’80s and ’90s, Hall continued to work steadily in films and on television, achieving cult fame when he gave an electrifying performance as Sydney, a veteran gambler, in screenwriter/director Paul Thomas Anderson’s debut feature, Hard Eight (1996). Anderson cast Hall in substantial roles in his next two films Boogie Nights (1997) and the star-studded Magnolia (1999), which saw the actor in fine form as a game show host dying of cancer, a role that captured the mass film public’s attention.

The actor has always found a home in the theater, performing in over a hundred plays over the years. “Between here and New York and all the regional theaters, I have done a lot of theater. A lot. I always felt comfortable doing theater, whereas I didn’t in the beginning with film and TV. The theater felt like a place where I actually knew what I was doing.”

Yet it’s been nearly 11 years since Hall trod the boards. Most recently he appeared in a revival of Mamet’s American Buffalo in 2000. “Bill Macy and I did that in London and New York.” Hall also played Nick in an Actors’ Gang staged reading of The Guys by Anne Nelson, during August 2002. “That was just a short interlude, maybe three or four weeks. But we had full houses. It’s a powerful piece.”

Family Comes First.

John Sloan, Anne Gee Byrd and Philip Baker Hall

Hall says he is selective about which roles he takes. He explains that film shoots generally prove less taxing and disruptive than theater productions. Explains Hall, “I have four daughters – two older, two very young.” He maintains that it is harder to be away from home or uproot your children from their lives once they become teenagers. “When I used to film all over the world, we all went together. Even my wife’s mother would go. That was all part of the package. But that’s not easy any more because the kids are older and they have a social life of their own. Friends, birthday parties, performances in the drama club… Family is a very big factor in the decisions I make.”

That I Never Sang For My Father is being staged in a small theater in his hometown of
L.A. certainly helps with his comfort zone, though it sounds as if he hasn’t yet found is footing. He was a replacement for the originally cast Neil Vipond, who became ill, resulting in a postponement of the opening.  “I’m a little bit out on a limb with this. I haven’t done it for a while, so I am concerned. I’ve had a lot of opportunities to do theater over the past 10 years, longer than that. But I haven’t done them because theater takes a big chunk out of your life. The commitment to theater is different from film.”

Hall says he recently worked 10 weeks on a Jim Carrey movie, called Mr. Popper’s Penguins, but as the shooting schedule was spaced out over several weeks, he was never away from his family for more than eight or nine days — a relatively relaxed gig.

The Demands of Theater

When he commits to appear in a play, even one being staged in LA, it’s as if he is going away for two or three months, he says. “It becomes your life. Everything is protected for that performance. You may not speak to anyone for a whole day. You have to conserve that energy. And these are gigantic roles, the father and the son – they’re just enormous roles. These scenes require all your energy and emotional reserve.” Hall goes on to explain just how arduous it is to play this bellowing patriarch. “It’s a big deal physically, as well as psychically. There’s always a danger of becoming this person. I mean, you do on stage. But it does kinda seep into your personal life. You gotta be careful.”

He chuckles and says he remains vigilant throughout the process. “I’ve been doing it so long,” adding, “There are a lot of paradoxes here because that is what your goal is, to get so filled with the role that you become that person. But you don’t want to completely become that person because then you get a little crazy. It’s an odd life we actors lead, in that respect.”

I Never Sang For My Father is playing three performances per weekend, which seems to suit Hall. “I think I can handle that. My health is okay, for my age. But what is my health expected to be? Being able to sit here and talk about the play and not be on an oxygen tank? I’m not sure. It’s not what it was 10 years ago. I do everything. I still drive. I have a 10-year-old and a 15-year-old daughter and a 47-year old wife, and life is going along. I did five movies last year and an episode of Modern Family.”

Film, TV or Theater?

Dee Ann Newkirk and John Sloan

The actor confesses his favorite medium is the theater. “In film, it’s kind of a solo performance. You are in front of the camera, or off camera playing to the other character. Whatever kind of chemistry can be engendered between two or more actors can be manufactured with the music and editing and the director’s wizardry; we can make things seem true. That’s what the movies are about.”

Hall maintains he finds theater vastly different. “It’s more of a teamwork operation. Each actor is fighting for their position in the emotional life of the play, but it’s really a concerted, co-operative action, and that’s what actors enjoy. And – action films notwithstanding – film is not very physical; it’s mainly facial reactions, eyes and close ups.”

Still, he’s loath to declare one art form better than the other. “They are completely
different. The critical aspect is storytelling, and as a movie actor, you don’t really get to tell the story. The editor and the director do, you just do your pieces. But in the theater, you are part of the group that tells the story and it’s continuous. The curtain goes up, and two or so hours later it comes down, and during that period you’re kind of suspended out there in another world of communication with each other, as actors, and with the audience and with this great art of storytelling.”

Opening Night Rituals.

On opening night, Hall says, ” I get nervous and shaky, like anybody else does. Again, the nature of the theater means you are taking this two-and-a-half hour risk. Even during the first couple of the weeks of the run, everything is still forming and re-forming; it’s kind of scary. No rituals, just worry!”

A tempestuous play such as this must have its especially daunting moments. Hall emphatically agrees, “I’ve also done Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman and the patriarch in All My Sons and when you play these kinds of roles, you’re already thinking about the big scene that’s coming up. Hoping you are going to have the energy, tonight, to do it right.

“Every day is not the same, even when you are younger. Sometimes you don’t want to go through all this suffering, loss and rage that these characters typically go through. You’re not always looking forward to it. You’re usually okay when you get there. But in the beginning, it’s like an enormous mountain, and you think, ‘Didn’t I just climb that last night?’ You think about all these things.”

On Audience Expectations.

Anne Gee Byrd and Philip Baker Hall

Hall knows this is a tough play for audiences, but he expects them to find it a rewarding experience. “John’s character [Gene] narrates and the language is very dark, bleak and uncompromisingly empty. Just about what a struggle life is. The events of the play are one thing, but we see right from the beginning the signs of dementia in the father. The understanding of Alzheimer’s Disease wasn’t common when this play was written, in 1968, so it’s interesting that there’s no mention of it by the playwright in the narration or dialogue. We begin to see how the family dynamic plays out, and the cruelty in that, and we get some notion of what that’s all about. We see his deterioration and the son’s frustration and increasing anger at the burden he has to carry now.

“The sister [Dee Ann Newkirk] comes back and she’s still angry with the father, and the father doesn’t understand why everybody is so mad at him and he feels unfairly assaulted. We have these four major characters – they’re all in pain, they’re all angry, at each other and at him, and anybody watching is going to start to think about their own family relationships.”

Hall ruefully admits, “There’s no positive resolution to this fight; it’s dark. It’s a realistic drama. It’s told out of Gene’s memory, as he recalls the scenes, then we see it played out. I hate to say it, but there’s nothing positive. Yet it could be cathartic and it raises a lot of questions that are worthy of thought and discussion.”

None of this seems to deter Hall’s resolve in facing such a monumental role. And there’s a sweet, personal reward for him as well. “My wife has been concerned that my younger daughters would never see me on the stage, and the theater is where I made my life for 25 years, so she’s been encouraging me to do a play. Everybody has made it easy for me to do this. This will be interesting for them.”

**All production photography by Daniel G. Lam

I Never Sang for My Father, presented by the New American Theatre, opens April 16; plays Fri.-Sat., 8 pm; Sun., 3 pm, through May 22. Dark Easter Sunday April 24. Tickets: $25. McCadden Theatre, 1157 N. McCadden Pl., Hollywood; 310-701-0788 or www.newamericantheatre.com.