From aspiring actor to theatrical ad agency executive to four-time Tony-nominated writer of plays and musicals, Rick Elice has seen it all (and then some!) on Broadway. Still boyishly enthusiastic more than four decades after getting his start in the business, Elice says, “The great thing about theater is that it can give us hope and a home, with people we love and who love us.” That theme permeates his book for the new musical Water for Elephants, which centers on a young man’s coming of age in a Depression-era traveling circus.
Elice has amassed Tony nods for every element of theatrical writing: Best Book for Jersey Boys (with Marshall Brickman) and Water for Elephants; Best Play for Peter and the Starcatcher; and Best Original Score for his Peter and the Starcatcher lyrics. The always busy Elice is currently juggling a workshop of the Broadway-bound musical Silver Linings Playbook and development of musical adaptations of Smash, The Princess Bride and The Marvels. He shared memories of the Tonys, his late husband Roger Rees, and his lifelong love of the theater in a recent wide-ranging chat.
Congratulations on your fourth Tony nomination! Do you still get excited about the Tonys after more than 40 years on Broadway?
Well, I’ve only been doing this job for 18 years, so as a writer, I’m really a child. [laughs] But yes, it’s very nice to be part of the group. This is the time of year when we get to look outside the little circle of our own shows and be happy for our friends and colleagues. That’s the best part, because we can all use some extra love.
As a veteran of ad campaigns for 300 Broadway shows, what would you like Tony voters to know about Water for Elephants?
In my past life as a marketing guy, I learned that you have to figure out what’s unique about your show and convey that to people. What’s unique about Water for Elephants is the stagecraft, which is really innovative because the presentation of the story and the story itself are in perfect sync. Beyond the dialogue and the songs, every aspect of the design, the puppetry, the projections, the choreography and the circus artistry has been conceived to move the story forward. You also get to see this magic happen, under the creative direction of our Tony-nominated director Jessica Stone, and I don’t think there’s another new show that can say that.
Now that the show is open, what makes you happiest when you watch it?
I love seeing the audience fall in love with our company. The 23 people on stage work so beautifully together, creating something larger than themselves, and I find that very moving. I love the community that comes with sitting in a theater with a thousand strangers. A friend of mine who recently lost her husband is going to the show tonight, and I told her that the last few minutes are really me speaking directly to people who have been through what she is going through—they’re about how you figure out a way to keep going when you’ve experienced loss. Others involved with the show might mention another element, but for me, it’s about giving comfort and some sense of “you are not alone” to people in the audience. I was able to write the world I want to live in, and that’s a great privilege.
You have a personal connection with that theme since your own husband passed away. [Stage icon Roger Rees died in 2015, less than three months after opening night of his final Broadway show, The Visit.] Does your ongoing writing career feel like what he would have wanted?
I don’t have to guess the answer to that, because he told me: He said, “This is what you’re going to do now.” I met Roger when I was 25, and we were together for almost 35 years, so I really didn’t have an experience of adult life without him saying, “Here’s what you’re going to do.” And invariably he was right! He was 12 years older than I am, and I would follow his advice because he knew so many things. He was an actor and a director, but also a fine artist and a gardener and a philosopher. Theater was a grand passion for both of us, and it was a thrill when we got to work together. [Their collaboration on Peter and the Starcatcher earned Rees a 2012 Best Director Tony nomination.] When he wasn’t here anymore, I had no choice but to stick with the theater because that’s what was left. I could choose to sit in a room and let the cobwebs grow, or I could force myself to go back into those sacred spaces, because that’s what the theater is for me. We call it “choosing the ride” in Water for Elephants, but I always write about finding where you belong. The last line of Jersey Boys is “chasing the music, trying to get home.”
Speaking of Jersey Boys, that now-legendary jukebox musical was not an instant hit, with rave reviews. It became the ultimate word-of-mouth success.
You’re correct. Jersey Boys opened in November of 2005 with, shall we say, lots of inventory in terms of available tickets. What our producers did that was very clever was to preview for five full weeks before the critics started coming. We saw right away that the preview audiences became missionaries for the show. I would stand in the back and see people who had been there the first week coming back with their friends. There are shows that change the zeitgeist—Hamilton, for example, or Rent or The Lion King or A Chorus Line back in 1975—when fans turn up the heat and come back again and again. A bunch of the early super-fans of Jersey Boys became good friends of mine; we have birthday parties, and they show up at other things I do. If Water for Elephants could do that, it would be amazing.
What’s happening with the other musicals you’re working on?
I’m in a workshop right now for a musical based on the wonderful film Silver Linings Playbook. Jessica Stone is directing, and Andrea Daly and Sara Cooper are writing the score. It’s a great story, again, about people who have issues, who are a little bit broken from the outside and who figure out a way to address their feelings. I mustn’t [reveal the cast] or I’ll be struck by lightning.
What about Smash?
Smash, directed by five-time Tony winner Susan Stroman, with a score by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, and a book I’m writing with the legendary Bob Martin, tried out in February at Hunter College. People seemed to like it, and we’re going to come to Broadway next spring. I’m also writing Princess Bride, based on the wonderful William Goldman book and film, with Bob Martin and a creative team that I mustn’t mention because it hasn’t been announced yet. We’re taking great care so as not to screw it up.
You’ve been to many, many Tony ceremonies. Do you have a favorite memory?
When I was at the ad agency, Tony night was a big work night. Sometimes amazing things happened, and sometimes disastrous things happened. We mustn’t talk about those! In the years when I was a means to someone else’s end, I felt like our job was to get people into the theater, because some kid out there might grow up to be the next Jerome Robbins or Lynn Nottage or Tony Kushner or Lin Miranda. I saw myself as doing God’s work, even though it was really just marketing. But the singular thrill for me was in 2006 when they opened the envelope and said that Jersey Boys had won Best Musical. That was a show where I was not the means to someone else’s end; I was there from the beginning, and it wasn’t like anyone thought Jersey Boys was a good idea. It wasn’t an easy show in any respect except that audiences loved it. We thought, “OK, that’s going to have to be enough.” And then we won the Tony.
How has Broadway changed since you started out? Do you feel optimistic about its future?
I was born in New York, and my folks started taking my brother and me to the theater when we were very young. You could go to a show for ninety cents if you sat in the balcony, which was cheaper than going to a movie. On rainy Saturdays when we couldn’t go out and play, we would go to a matinee. I grew up in the era when Hal Prince was producing and directing Company, Follies and A Little Night Music. He had a $2 obstructed view policy, so when I was 10 or 11, I could go watch Donna McKechnie dance or see the amazing “Loveland” sequence in Follies. Even then, people were saying “Broadway is finished; it’s dying.” Certainly there are still issues with expense and providing artists with the wherewithal to put their shows on, but will people keep coming? Yeah, I really believe they will, because somewhere inside, we need it. We keep coming because we have to.