Sam Robards just can't stay out of trouble. First, his character on TV's hot series Gossip Girl began dabbling in narcotics and wound up in jail. And now Robards is on the run from British authorities eight times a week at the Cort Theatre, replacing Charles Edwards as the mustachioed Richard Hannay in the rapid-fire Hitchcock-inspired comic thriller The 39 Steps. Fortunately the laid-back Robards, son of show-biz royals Lauren Bacall and the late Jason Robards, is more law abiding than his spotlighted counterparts, choosing trips overseas to quietly "recharge" over hard-partying celebrity behavior. The married father of three is actually something of an anti-celebrity who prefers performing Arthur Miller on Broadway which he did with Tony-nominated aplomb in 2002's The Man Who Had All the Luck to the big-budget media circus of L.A. though he's been in his fair share of hits, including American Beauty, Life as a House and Steven Spielberg's A.I.: Artificial Intelligence:. After his first week of nonstop onstage antics and high-speed chases, we sat down with Robards in his new pink dressing room at the Cort to discuss the challenge of joining The 39 Steps, what it's like growing up famous and the downside of mustache maintenance.
So how is life behind Richard Hannay's mustache?
It's fun. This mustache gives you a lot of street cred, especially on the subway. The first day I had it, a group of 12-year-old troublemakers were laughing wildly and pointing at me.
Does it help you go incognito when you're out and about?
No! It's a ridiculous mustache! Who has a pencil mustache anymore? Very few people can get away with it. It's actually kind of annoying. I don't know how anyone had any time for anything in the 1930s, because you've got to shave the top, then you've got to clip the bottom, and then—this is all very fascinating, I know—the middle has to taper to the ends. It's a pain in the ass.
You and John Waters can start a support group for Broadway's pencil mustaches.
Oh, he wins. That mustache is a thing of beauty.
Yes, I've been here for a bit working and filming Gossip Girl. Before that I was in Copenhagen, Denmark.
Denmark? What were you doing there?
I was doing a little work. But mainly I like to take time off if I can afford it. And I couldn't really, which is why I had to come back! It's good for me just to recharge the batteries sometimes, because I get burned out. I mean, I can't speak for anyone else. [Acting] is great to do, but after a while you do get burnt. Ultimately, I did my 10 years in L.A. and then got time off for good behavior.
But you're back. And in a cute, pink dressing room!
It's salmon! You should see [co-star] Cliff Saunders' dressing room. It's hot pink. The Homecoming was here before we were and they had all of these rooms painted [this way], which is pretty funny.
How did you get involved with The 39 Steps?
Maria Aiken, the director, and I had worked together at the Bay Street Theater in Sag Harbor on the show Japes, and we hit it off. She knew that Charlie [former 39 Steps star Charles Edwards] was leaving and called me up. She said, "Listen, I think you'd be perfect for this—do you want to do it?" And I'm going, "Gee, a lead on Broadway?" So of course I said yes. Fortunately it worked out.
Did you know what you were getting yourself into?
Not really! I'd heard about it but had just moved back to the States [when it opened], so I was really just trying to get my legs back under me at that time. Then last season I was doing The Overwhelming [for Roundabout] over at the Laura Pels Theatre and shooting Gossip Girl at the same time, so my head was nowhere near the universe of this show. When I finally came to see it, I thought it was just awesome. It's a great show to play and a lot of fun.
The show moves so fast and is incredibly physical. Do you need stamina to pull it off?
After seeing the show and [Edwards'] level of exhaustion after each performance I knew that that would be a challenge. At the end of the first act, I actually have to come back to my dressing room and completely change all of my clothes. Seriously, they're soaking wet. I have four suits, and the only thing I keep on for the second act are my shoes. Socks, underwear—all soaked through. It's a three-piece suit, plus a coat and hats during the train scenes, running, jumping, falling, climbing. But it's great to be able to do physical stuff like that, because God knows at some point you won't be able to anymore.
How do you rehearse for a show like The 39 Steps when it's already running?
That was honestly the part of the process that I really didn't like, not due to any person, of course. I had to watch the show a lot, which was great, but my personal feeling was I had a responsibility to make sure the other three people [co-stars Jennifer Ferrin, Cliff Saunders and Arnie Burton] were comfortable and that I didn't change the rhythm of the show and screw them up. I had to keep the scaffolding of Edwards' performance. He was an amazing Richard Hannay and the one who created the role, so it's his blueprint. It was a terror train for two weeks. It occasionally still is. The thing is, it's fun to start at the beginning and create [a role]. With this, sometimes it does feel like you're just being plugged in. That's not because of anyone—everyone is fantastic: management, stage managers, actors, director. That's just the gig. But I don't think it's something I would do again. Also, if it were The Gin Game and I was just sitting at a table, the blocking wouldn't be so [intimidating].
You nabbed a Tony nomination [for The Man Who Had All the Luck] in 2002. Did that experience help prepare you for this?
It was certainly nice. That nomination was completely out of left field, because it was the only one that the play got and I hadn't been thinking about it at all. I was just having fun. I was on Broadway in an Arthur Miller play! He was at rehearsal! And it was very weird, because [Miller] had once directed my father [Jason Robards] at Lincoln Center, and at the time [of rehearsals] my father had just died, so it was a little bit of closure. To be on Broadway and have people think you're doing good work, that's great. But the idea that someone's better than someone else is completely subjective. I understand you need [awards] from a business standpoint, but I don't [focus on them]. The last few plays that I've worked on—The Talking Cure in L.A., where I was onstage 30 out of 31 scenes, The Overwhelming here in New York and then Japes—those kinds of experiences do more for me than any awards ceremony. Ceremonies are all a goof anyway. "Hey, look at that person! Wooooo!"
You're very anti-celebrity, and are sort of known for avoiding the media.
Well, I grew up with it. Listen, if you're going to be an actor, some degree of notoriety is helpful in enabling you to continue to work. But celebrity is a whole other beast. I can't do it. I like having to wait in line or being told to fuck off! And I don't like to work as much [as stardom requires]. You get into this thing where you're always going to another "thing": You've got an appointment, you appear at this, you have to be at that. It's funny. There've been [opportunities] where I've looked something over and go, "You know, I'm not going to be able to do this and still look myself in the mirror."
Personally, I've had no problems, knock on wood! But people are going to write what they're going to write. I have never been the one to walk down the street with 50 paparazzi. I think that would suck. It would harsh my mellow!
Isn't it ironic that you've actively avoided the spotlight and ended up on Gossip Girl, where the actors are stalked relentlessly?
No. I needed the money! Listen, I had a day on the pilot episode. Two lines! I was like, "All right, I'm in New York, I just got back, I'll do it. I don't know what the hell's going on." All of a sudden they want me for another one, and another and another. Suddenly [my character] is doing blow, swilling whiskey, punching his kid! I'm walking down the street and girls are going, "Omigod, are you Nate's dad?!" Then [Gossip Girl heartthrob] Chace Crawford and I were walking out of a townhouse one day while we were shooting, and there were just hundreds of these girls lining the street screaming, "Chace! Is that Chace?" And one of them nearby answers, "No, that's the old one." I was like, "The old one? Oh, you're 12—of course I'm the old one!
Did you think the show would blow up the way it did?
Early on, I told a couple of those guys to hang on and enjoy the ride, because I could just see it happening. At midnight there'd be a hundred girls on their cell phones across the street from where we were shooting. When I came back for the final episode, it was a totally different universe. There were kids all over the place, just screaming. Security everywhere. It was a chuckle. For those guys, that's life-changing. A year and a half ago, nothing was going on, and now it'll never be the same for them. For now.
That level of fame is something your family experienced. How did growing up around that affect your perception of acting?
Well, it was a little different when I was growing up. My mother [Lauren Bacall] came out of a system where the media was in the pockets of the studios and could only report what they had permission to report. That system obviously has come to an end, but I guess I always viewed all of it as business. You'd be sitting around at home and talking about this guy or that show, and then we'd come backstage and watch it from the wings or be on the set, and in that sense [to me] it was always just a job. My parents also had a level of notoriety that I have never had.
Did you plan on following in their footsteps?
When I was 19, I had just been kicked out of college and figured I'd give it a try and see what happens. I didn't want to wake up when I was 40 and go, "Aw, man, I should have done that." And I got lucky. I got some work and then kept on working. I sucked at a lot of stuff but was okay at others. Eventually my dad told me to never quit.
Were your parents supportive of your choice?
Yes and no. They were like, "If you want to do it, do it. We'll help you." And I said, "Great," but I didn't really want their help. I would always ask for any pearls of wisdom they had, but of course they were a bit closed-lipped about that. But it's that thing we were talking about earlier: celebrity vs. everything else. I just want to do good work. Art and commerce are two very separate things, and most of what we do is commerce. Which is fine; you've got to pay the bills! But once in a while you get to do some art, so you need to put yourself in a position to get those kinds of jobs, sometimes by doing things you don't want to do. I don't have the luxury of having given amazing performances at 19 and 20, so I've had to work for a lot.
I guess it does sound vaguely cliché. I would hate to view my life as a stereotype, but perhaps it is! My parents did things they felt they had to do, and their kids weren't really part of that equation. I'm not judging them at all. But as a kid, you're going, "Hey—good show last night? Great. 'Cuz you missed my fucking game. Where were you?" That's something [that might surprise people]. With my kids, I just had to tell [employers], "No, I'm not going to be there—my kid's graduating," or whatever. And the reason you do that is because you look back and go, "Okay. That feeling sucked. So I won't do that." That's the lesson. But I also don't care if my kids think I'm a clingy weirdo!
Are your kids into showbiz?
No. My eldest wants to be a fireman! He says to me, "I want to come home to the same house, every night, same wife, same job!" He wants a routine. They've learned that.
Getting back to The 39 Steps, was the idea of filling Charles Edwards' shoes scary?
Totally. He's one of the great actors I've seen and a sweet guy. I would rehearse and then see him perform that night, feeling very comfortable with how rehearsal went, and leave [the performance] feeling completely terrified. Then luckily I got to see his understudy go on. He was great, but totally different. And all of a sudden I thought, "Oh, okay. I can do this. The play actually works!" That , for me, was key. I said from the beginning that I couldn't do what Charles does, not the way he does it. Because he's British, his innate sensibility is truer [to the story] than mine. But I do wear larger undershorts!
See Sam Robards in The 39 Steps at The Cort Theatre.