Harvey Fierstein

When the producers of the current Broadway revival of David Leveaux's production of Fiddler on the Roof were readying the classic musical over a year ago, Harvey Fierstein—who was "just hanging out with them," as the producers were also in early discussions about mounting a revival of his musical La Cage aux Folles for the following year recently opened at the Marquis—recalls saying to them, "'I know you've already cast it and blah, blah, blah, but you know who should play Fiddler? Me.' And in my recollection," Fierstein growls, with the punctuation of one of his perfectly-timed pauses, "I believe they laughed. And laughed." A year later, after nudging from Fierstein's agent, a call from the producers finally came: "Tell Harvey it's time to eat his words." Three performances into his limited run as Tevye at the Minskoff Theatre with new co-star Andrea Martin as Golde, the four-time Tony Award-winning star of Hairspray and Torch Song Trilogy sat down with Broadway.com for the Anatevka update.

So how's it going?
I'm tired! [Laughs.] Oh my God, this is a big show. And you know, I've never replaced before!

Not even somewhere early in your career?
No, never. And it's a very different process, where you sort of have to put off a lot of the work until you're with the cast. Thank God, they're just terrific. So generous, so supportive. Cause, basically, in rehearsal, you're still just doing it with stage managers.

Like assembling the bones of the show without the muscles.
Right. And then you really have to trust that you can get where you need to go very quickly so that the audience isn't being cheated out of the full experience.

Did you have much rehearsal with Fiddler's director David Leveaux?
He was at every damn rehearsal. [Laughs.] Actually, it was lucky for us that [Leveaux's upcoming production of] The Glass Menagerie was pushed back a week. So instead of leaving us at the first preview, he's been able to stay this whole first week, which is great. He's just a phenomenal director. Any intellectual argument you throw out, he's ready. He will meet you. He will take what you say and work it towards something. I mean, yesterday between the matinee and evening show, we changed four huge things in the show—just because inspiration hit him or me, and he's so open to it! Which is fine when you're first putting a production together. But a year later? Being open to saying, "Yeah, let's look at that scene again"? That's extraordinary.

Did you watch many performances going into the show?
No. I'd seen [the revival] when it opened. Then I watched it to decide whether or not I wanted to go in and do it. Then I came back and watched it with the eye of knowing I was going to do it.

Was Alfred Molina helpful to you?
He was incredible to me. That night I went to see the show to make the decision, I went to Fred and said, "Cookie, what do you think?" Because it was obviously built around him, I said, "Look at us. We couldn't possibly be more different—different techniques, different styles." And he said, "Oh Harvey, just do it. Stop intellectualizing. The show's an unbelievable piece that gives you back ten times what you give it. It's just like a great big hug."

Was Tevye a role you'd always wanted to play?
Yes.

And what does your family make of you doing Fiddler?
They were all there on Tuesday night. And crying their fucking eyes out. In fact, my brother was still crying the next morning when I called.

So, you two are close?
Very. Throughout my career, he's always believed in me. But I think that somewhere inside—and we've never really talked about it—I think he always sort of felt that I was being held-back, or pigeon-holed in the gay roles. And though I've never felt that way—I mean, I've turned down a lot of heterosexual roles because, well, they were so boring—I think he felt that way.

As such a well-known openly-gay performer—who's played many gay characters—do you ever feel that people have slighted your craft as an actor because they thought you were just "playing yourself."
No. I've never felt cheated out of that. But I think my brother did on a certain level. And so for my family to come into that theater and see me in a role like Tevye—this archetypal male role, with five daughters!—it's like finally, at the age of fifty, I've broken that barrier.

Have you drawn much on your Jewish heritage for the role?
From some. Tevye is a little of Max Conan, a man I grew up with. A little bit of my Uncle Paul. I use a couple of lines straight from the rabbi I had growing up, and a couple of mannerisms from the fish-mongerer I knew as a kid. You pull this stuff from different places. But David Leveaux pointed out to me what Laurence Olivier had said, "If I find the shoes, I find the man." And I have always found that to be true—if I find the walk, I'll find the character. Like in Hairspray, I once counted that I used sixteen different walks.

Sixteen?!
Oh yeah, to take Edna on the journey from somebody who never leaves the house to where she is in that finale? They were all walks I'd seen—from watching overweight women, to experimenting with scuffies on carpets, outdoor flats, different heels.

And Tevye? Boots?
Oh, you're talking about a man who walks on pounded earth! Or wood! It's a different way of moving with somebody who spends so much time outdoors. I mean, that's part of the brilliance of David's production, to keep in mind that these people did everything outdoors; they lived outdoors—doing your laundry, your jobs, your johns! And in my mind, with the production design, David has released the show to its full potential. Whether we pull it off or not, well, that's our work.

There was debate from critics when the revival first opened about the production lacking an authentic spirit of Jewishness. I was wondering if that might be something that's changing with you coming into it?
It is not my job to judge. Boy oh boy, is it not my job to judge. I can only tell you that in rehearsal I found David Leveaux well-versed in the culture and understanding of the philosophy behind the way these people think. And in the way that Tevye lives. Plus, you know, the book is so strong and so specific that, to me, I just follow those guidelines.

Are you happy about not having to shave before every performance, like at Hairspray?
There are many trade-offs. Cause now I have this great big beard! And I have my eyebrows back, and my arm hair and leg hair and chest hair. So now I guess I should join the gay bear community. I'd be very popular at, what do you call those things... "bear dens"? But the trade-off is that although I obviously don't have to go in for an hour and a half of make-up each night, like at Hairspray, I do have to do a lot of vocal warm-ups.

Didn't you do that for Hairspray?
With Hairspray I could just sort of breeze through, cause I could use the first three songs to warm-up. But with Fiddler I walk out singing "Tradition" and the second thing I sing is "Rich Man."

With such an epic journey you have to take in each performance—at nearly three hours long—is doing Fiddler sort of like doing Torch Song again?
Yes, there are definate correlations playing these roles. The most obvious is that both characters make the audience incredibly happy, and make the actor incredibly miserable. There's so much unhappiness in what [Arnold in Torch Song] has to go through. Though in the end the audience knows that everything is going to be OK. And it's the same with Tevye, walking into the show with this incredible joy, and at the end of the evening I'm emotionally rung-out. I mean, last night Andrea Martin was marching out of the theater after the show and came into my dressing room to give me a goodnight kiss, and I was still just sitting there in my costume. I didn't have the energy to take it off! Though, as I said, audiences leave elated!

Speaking of the connections between Torch Song and Fiddler—or Hairspray and La Cage for that matter—they share something I always associate with your persona: Being parental.
Ha!

No, I mean that in a loving way! Cause not only have many of the roles you've acted and written exuded that parental narrative but you've also had such a strong sense of that with your leadership in the theater and gay communities as well.
My theory has always been that love and commitment and family and caring are not heterosexual words. They're human words.

But do you see that you gravitate to these kinds of narratives in your career?
Yeah, I'd have to be kind of blind not to see that. Why I do it? I'm not exactly sure. And if anyone appreciates it? You never know. In the case of Fiddler, when we first got together with the full cast, I said, "I would just like to say that on behalf of Andrea and I, we know we're the step-parents. We won't replace your parents. But we'll try and be nice to you and let you go to the dance." And of course, as Tevye, my job is to just to go out there and love these daughters.

So, after Tevye, any other roles you'd like to play?
I think I need to live through this first. But if you're going to go from Edna to Tevye—and you want to continue on that line—where the hell do you go next? A space alien? Baby Snooks? I don't know! Maybe the life of Marcel Marceau? I guess the point is that if it all ended tomorrow, I can say I wasn't scared to take it on. Cause the only reason not to do Tevye was fear that I would fail. And fear, at least for an artist, is the worst reason not to do something.

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See Harvey Fierstein in Fiddler on the Roof at the Minskoff Theatre now through March 27. Click here for tickets and more information.