Hannah Waddingham has impressed in numerous West End musicals, including The Beautiful Game, Monty Python’s Spamalot (playing the Lady of the Lake both in London and on Broadway), the Trevor Nunn-directed A Little Night Music and as the Witch in Into the Woods. Now she is once again extraordinary as a supremely funny and commanding Wicked Witch of the West in the new Andrew Lloyd Webber co-production of The Wizard of Oz at the London Palladium. Standing 7 foot 2 in heels and a 15-inch wig and clad head-to-toe in black crows’ feathers, the performer looks altogether startling, not least when she soars out over the audience!
You’re evidently going through your witch phase!
I’m trying not to be insulted! And I couldn’t have a less witchy nose in real life, could I? I mean, it’s a button [Laughs.]
Now you’re getting to go ugly on stage after the glamour of Desiree in A Little Night Music.
I know—a really manky old witch who we cover in prosthetics. I already had this before Into the Woods, and don’t see the two parts as remotely similar. This one is a witch, whereas the other, for me, was a wronged woman who everyone called a witch. She had a curse placed on her but was an innocent and had become gnarled and unhinged as a result. This one is out and out bitchville: a megalomaniac. People say to me, “Why do you do these ugly parts?” And it’s because at the end of the day, I’m an actress, and I crave the dark and the light within one job. I’ve purposefully made this witch dark and dangerous but funny as well.
How much scope did you feel there was to re-interpret such an iconic role?
Massive! More than any show I’ve ever done, I really felt as if they just let me run with it, and [director] Jeremy Sams was very good at sometimes going, “Waddingham, no, you’re not doing that!” For example the dome flight that I do—[flying down from the heights of the auditorium out and over the audience]—was meant to be voice-over and I kept saying, “Look, you have to have the Witch in the audience, whoever plays her.” It’s all well and good flying on stage—that’s exciting—but thinking about children particularly, because that’s who I’m doing this for, if the Witch is behind the proscenium arch, that’s too safe.
Is flying scary for you?
I think because I suggested it, I had to kind of just swallow it! I’m something like 100 feet high—a bit less—and I said, "Look, I have to give it a go." 1. because of all the things I’ve said about the Witch, and 2. if I can look back when I’m older and say, "I’ve flown from the dome of the Palladium," it doesn’t get much better than that! You have to see this as excitement, and I get more nervous standing in the stalls [orchestra] and looking at where I’ve come from than actually doing it.
You must hear a lot of Spider-Man jokes.
Yes, endlessly. I will be not touching that one with a barge pole—or a broomstick. [Laughs.]
Did you need a lot of persuading to take on this role?
It was a complete no-brainer. Literally, the call came through: Andrew Lloyd Webber wanting to offer you, with no audition, The Wicked Witch of the West at the London Palladium—I’m in!
You haven’t ever done Wicked, have you?
No. If L. Frank Baum had written Wicked, I’d have done. It doesn’t appeal to me at all and never did. People keep saying to me, “You’re playing Elphaba!” And I go, “No, I’m playing Elmira Gulch, the Wicked Witch of the West.”
Last summer’s Into the Woods looked pretty challenging—performed outdoors on a giant, and slippery set in all manner of inclement London weather!
Oh my God! It should have been called “Into the Terrifying Adventure Playground.” We rehearsed on a flat floor with no levels, with three different colors of tape indicating the different levels of stage, and then we only had two days on set before we had the audience in—and me on crutches and a full face-mask. I did say to [co-directors] Tim Sheader and Liam Steel, “Do you want to give me any other obstacles? Can I just have a go at singing and acting now, please, instead of looking like The Elephant Man?” At the same time, we all fell in love with each other on that show. I’ve been very lucky in the last five years that all the shows I’ve done have had exceptionally lovely people.
When A Little Night Music was on Broadway, first with Catherine Zeta-Jones and then with Bernadette Peters, were you keeping tabs on it from afar via [Waddingham’s London co-star] Alexander Hanson?
Why? Oh God, no. Hell no. I put that to bed and thought, “I’ll put my singing cards on my album”—which we’ve just literally been putting the finishing touches on today.
That’s your Chocolate Factory solo show [from March 2010] on stage?
Yes, which [producer] David Babani and I are talking about doing for a week somewhere in New York, because I think they get me there. I want me to be heard being silly on the album and mucking around and also making some great music. I’m not one of these very, very refined “artistes”—I’m just interested in giving people a good time and having them listen to these songs in a new way. I’ve never wanted to be some big recording star; what I do want is people to have this album in their cars and say, “This makes me happy.”
What do you make these days of the TV casting thing, given that Danielle Hope was cast as Dorothy through a reality TV process as was your Swedish replacement [Nina Söderquist] in Spamalot?
Well, I’ll just say that in this instance, I think it was absolutely the right choice, and you know I don’t say that lightly. I don’t give credit where credit isn’t due. Danielle is a very mature actress and has been professional since day one, there is not a trace of arrogance about her, and she carries the show. She’s 18 going on 30.
Would you have been ready for that degree of exposure at that age?
Categorically not, and in fact I always say to Danielle, “I can’t believe how mature you are!” She’s extraordinary—really, really lovely, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised. She’s our baby girl, as is Sophie Evans, our alternate Dorothy. She was on last Tuesday and brought the house down. She is a spectacular, warm, beautiful-inside-and-out girl.