Jack O’Brien on Launching Hairspray, Directing Patti and Savoring His Lifetime Achievement Tony

Imagine a marathon of the plays and musicals that earned Jack O’Brien three Tony Awards and six additional Tony nominations for Best Director. How, we may wonder, did the person who directed an acclaimed revival of Porgy and Bess go on to helm The Full Monty and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels? How did the Tony-winning director of Hairspray manage to win another Tony the following year for Shakespeare’s Henry IV? And how on earth did the man who guided the monumental three-part production of Tom Stoppard’s epic The Coast of Utopia win raves 16 years later for a corn-centric musical titled Shucked?

Some theatrical careers defy logic in the most delightful ways, which brings us to O’Brien’s richly deserved 2024 Tony Award for Lifetime Achievement. And he’s not done: Shortly after celebrating his 85th birthday on June 18, O’Brien will go into rehearsal with Patti LuPone and Mia Farrow for the Broadway premiere of Jen Silverman’s two-hander The Roommate. This consummate conversationalist recently reflected on his 55-year Broadway career in a laugh-filled chat.

Congratulations on your Lifetime Achievement Tony! Does it feel like the ultimate 85th birthday present?

It does, as a matter of fact. The Tonys are two days before my birthday, so it couldn’t come at a more opportune time. I’m enormously grateful, and I’m loving all this. When I saw [fellow honoree] George Wolfe at the [Tony] luncheon, we fell into each other’s arms. It’s quite wonderful.

It must feel good to get this award when you are still active and working—it’s not a consolation prize.

God yes, I have more work right now than I’ve had in a very long time. The Tonys are a promotion for the business, of course, and I don’t look at my work as competitive, but it’s a gift to be in a pack of people working at the top of their ability.

Looking at the breadth of your career, it seems impossible that one person could successfully direct in so many styles and genres. How do you account for that?

I was raised in a company psychology. I was just a boy [assisting] at the APA Phoenix, which had a touring classical repertory company, so I grew up thinking that juggling was the norm. Subsequently, I was loaned out to the Old Globe [in San Diego]—once again, a company—and I eventually took over and was there for 25 years. When you run a company, somebody always cancels and you have to pick up the damn thing and do whatever needs doing. With musicals, I spent 10 years on the road directing opera companies after Porgy and Bess in 1978. It was inevitable, I guess, that I would be exposed to everything rather than becoming a specialist.

When did you realize you had a gift for directing musical comedy?

Well, I wrote musicals at [the University of] Michigan when I was 20 years old. Jazz artist Bob James and I were roommates, and we wrote three musicals in two years. The first one, Land Ho!, was a farce about Columbus discovering America with women smuggled on board the ship—that’s how silly it was. I did the book, the lyrics, the music and played the lead. Oh, yes! That was 1961, and Bob and I won best collegiate musical of the year. I was doomed from the beginning.

What’s the most important element in crafting a successful musical?

Getting sleep. [laughs] It really is like leading an army. Musicals are indigenous to the American spirit, and nobody does it better than we do because we’re such a wide-ranging group of people of different races and histories and all the rest of it. But in order to become the United States, as torn and as ragged as we are at this moment, we had to get along, and that’s exactly what it’s like to direct a musical. It isn’t just you and an actor or you and a writer, it’s you and the wardrobe supervisor, the assistant lighting designer, the publicity people, the money people, and on and on. It’s an army.

Did people think you were nuts to take on Shucked?

People have always thought I was nuts. Do you want to know how I got to direct Hairspray? The late [producer] Margo Lion loved my production of Tom Stoppard’s The Invention of Love, one of the best things I’d ever done. She’d seen the play in London and hated it, but somebody brought her to a Broadway preview, and she thought, “If this director can make that into this, he’s my guy.” I got Hairspray because of Tom Stoppard! When it came to Shucked, from the very beginning, I thought, “I know how to do this.” As a director, you have an instinct of “This is mine” or “This is not mine.” I’ve always said, “If it makes me laugh or it makes me cry, I can make it work.”

Not to be insulting, but Shucked was so funny and fast moving, audiences might have thought someone in their 20s or 30s directed it.

Can I ask for a better compliment than that? We were so in love with each other, that company. We’re casting the national tour now, and it’s like being back in the room with your family.

You’ve worked with hundreds of actors at varied stages of their careers. Is there a piece of casting you’re particularly proud of?

This is not exactly the answer to your question, but maybe it will give a little perspective: This fall, I’m directing The Roommate with Mia Farrow and Patti LuPone. I said to Patti, “Do you realize that you and I have not faced each other in a rehearsal hall for 50 years?” I directed the first thing she ever did, which was The Time of Your Life with the Acting Company. We’re going to have great fun.

What drew you to The Roommate, and how did you convince Patti and Mia to co-star?

We’re friends. After all these years in the business, I can call people and say, “Do you want to do this with me?” The play had been done several places, but not seriously, and when it came to me, I thought it was fantastic. Who’s writing parts for women that age? No one. Here’s a woman author writing about middle-aged women. I thought, “I’ve gotta have a hand in this.”

Shifting gears, you deserve credit for making the Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center a wonderful place to see plays. How did you approach directing The Coast of Utopia on such a vast stage?

Don’t forget, my career began with a lot of opera, so I was used to working on a big scale. And when I directed Shakespeare in San Diego in the summer, those were often big projects. That said, with The Coast of Utopia, I had Bob Crowley, my genius Irish brother, as the designer. His tutelage was with the Royal Shakespeare Company, so the two of us were not remotely intimidated by big casts and big spaces. The Beaumont is one of my favorite theaters in the world. I’ve lived long enough that there are very few spaces and experiences I haven’t tried, haven’t failed at or succeeded at, but that’s all part of what I do for a living.

Your memoirs [Jack Be Nimble and Jack in the Box] include details of less-than-successful productions, such as the Phantom of the Opera sequel Love Never Dies in London and the play Getting Away with Murder [by Stephen Sondheim and George Furth] on Broadway. What’s the key to moving forward after experiences like those?

The truth is that success feels good, but failure is what teaches you. If you don’t fail, you don’t grow. If you don’t take a risk and throw yourself into the void, you’re not going to get anywhere. Sometimes, the shows that don’t work are the ones you remember most fondly and most gratefully, because those are the ones that teach you what not to do.

On the flip side is a show like Hairspray, the gift that keeps on giving.

We’re trying to bring it back to Broadway next year. The country needs it. I saw the non-Equity version several months ago in Connecticut, and the audience went bananas. It’s better now than it was 20 years ago.

How so?

Hairspray is a sweetly subversive musical; it doesn’t preach. It’s adorable and funny, but it’s the kind of show that, when you’re having your coffee the next morning, you realize had more beneath the surface than just the glitz of a Broadway musical. People love it because they don’t feel talked down to.

At this point in your life, what drives you to continue working on Broadway?

It’s not work, it’s joy. That’s the secret. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve worked a damned day in my life. I have such a good time, and it makes me so happy. It causes no anxiety. I have all this energy, and as long as I’m feeling confident, the work takes care of itself.