Harry Groener

Three-time Tony nominee Harry Groener is making a welcome return to the Broadway stage this summer as Spamalot’s King Arthur. With his thick salt-and-pepper beard, the 54-year-old actor is practically unrecognizable as the lanky song-and-dance man who charmed audiences in the 1979 revival of Oklahoma! (as Will Parker, opposite Christine Ebersole’s Ado Annie), the original cast of Cats and the long-running hit Crazy for You. Based in L.A. with his wife of almost 28 years, actress Dawn Didawick, Groener has become a familiar face on TV in recent years with recurring roles on Las Vegas and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. His tiny Shubert Theatre dressing room-two doors down from the one he occupied 14 years ago while starring in Crazy for You-is wallpapered from floor to ceiling with opening night cards written by Didawick over the years. Stretching his long legs, Groener talked about his three decades on stage and screen and his ongoing romance with his wife during an afternoon chat with Broadway.com.

How did the role of King Arthur come your way?

It happened very fast. They flew me in on a Wednesday, I saw the show on Thursday and auditioned for [director] Mike [Nichols] and [author] Eric [Idle] on Friday. I went back to L.A. and found out I got the part the following Tuesday. From that point, my wife and I had two weeks up pack up, and 17 boxes later, here we are. I had three weeks of rehearsal, and then I was out there.

Had you ever worked with Mike Nichols?

No, I had never had that good fortune, and I had never met Eric Idle, although Casey [Nicholaw], who choreographed Spamalot, was in the ensemble of Crazy for You.

Did they consider adding more dancing to your part? It’s sort of a shame that you don’t get to show off your skills as a dancer.

I’m fine with that. I don’t miss it or feel that I have to do all that stuff at this point. I’m very happy to sit there and watch the other people doing it. I wouldn’t want them to change the show to try to accommodate me.

You play King Arthur straighter than the previous two actors [Tim Curry and Simon Russell Beale]. Was that your choice?

That’s how I auditioned it, and that’s what I’ve been told they liked about my audition. One of the great things about the Python guys’ sense of humor is that the scenes they write are totally absurd but they’re played with absolute sincerity. There’s never a wink or a jab in the side to the audience, and that’s what makes it hysterical.

Were you a fan of Monty Python and the Holy Grail?

Yeah, and play it with dead seriousness. What’s interesting about the movie is that two basic realities are shown but never explained. Is it really King Arthur who is looking for the grail, or are they reenactors? There’s a historian in the movie who tells the story, but there’s a scene in which the two realities cross; the historian is out there and Lancelot comes by and kills him. You go, "What’s going on here?" And there’s a secondary plot where you see the policeman investigating the murder.

Those details are different in the musical.

In this [stage] piece, you have three different realities: Is it really Arthur? Are they reenactors? And is it a Broadway show? There are strange little lapses: You go into Camelot and all of a sudden you’re in a Vegas thing. But the belief in the situation has to be absolute throughout the whole show until you’re told differently. Whether or not he’s on Broadway, he still has to find the Grail!

Have you ever been in a show that’s this packed with laughs from start to finish?

Actually, yes, a play by Ray Cooney, a brilliant writer of farce who wrote Run for Your Wife. My wife and I did the sequel to that, Caught in the Net, at the Coconut Grove Playhouse five years ago with Paxton Whitehead and Tony Randall. Ray Cooney directed it, and he was very specific about what he wanted. We were like puppets and we had to let him move us around and not ask questions. When we got up and started playing it, waves of laughter would come over that proscenium, and it was all because of how Ray directed it. This show has the same effect. It’s such a happy piece-you can’t get any better than the message of it, "Always look on the bright side of life." It’s that simple.

You’ve been a replacement on Broadway once before, in Sunday in the Park with George.

Yes, and I never thought I’d get the chance to do a Sondheim piece. I’m mad for Stephen Sondheim, and when that opportunity came up, I said, "I won’t get it, but least I’ll be able to audition for Sondheim and [writer/director] James Lapine. That’s the goal." And then it happened, which was unbelievable because I’m not a trained singer. That piece is so hard vocally, I was a little worried. But I was careful, and it was wonderful.

You’ve done more Sondheim since then in L.A., right?

Yeah, I did Assassins[as Guiteau] and Follies [as Buddy].

Too bad you couldn’t do them here.

When I saw Assassins here, I thought it was fabulous. Michael Cerveris is a friend-we did Eastern Standard in Seattle a long time ago with Tommy Hulce-and I thought he was great. [Cerveris won a Tony as John Wilkes Booth.] And he’s great in Sweeney; he’s such a lovely man and a wonderful talent. The Assassins we did was a one-evening concert for the Reprise! series. It was one of those combinations of the right people and the right piece, and the audience just went bananas for it even though we were only doing it for one night with music stands. It was electrifying. There was talk about trying to find another venue for it, but that never materialized. Follies was also for Reprise!, but it was a longer run. Buddy is a wonderful part for me, and I loved doing it so much.

After Crazy for You, did you make the decision to be based in L.A. and not concentrate on Broadway anymore?

You go where the work is. What I resent is the people-more here than in L.A.-who make you feel like you have to make that decision. I’m an actor, and I should be able to go wherever I damn well please without being made to feel guilty. [laughs] After Crazy for You, I came back to Lincoln Center and did Twelve Dreams and then right after that, Steve Martin’s Picasso at the Lapin Agile at the Promenade. We’ve had a home in L.A. since 1990 so we’ve been going back and forth. By the way, Mischa Barton of The O.C. was my daughter in Twelve Dreams. She was 12. When Dawn and I saw her, we said, "This is just a temporary stop along the way for Mischa. She’ll do television and film."

Of course, you’ve regularly done theater on the West Coast, too. Oh, I’ve done a lot of theater out there. The irony is that out there, I’m known as an actor. Here, I’m known as a musical comedy person. I’ve done Shakespeare all over the place but not here. Out there, I’ve done many serious pieces at the Taper, at the Ahmanson, the Old Globe. The last thing I did at the Globe before [the 2002 Nora Ephron flop] Imaginary Friends was Twelfth Night, directed by Jack O’Brien.

Jack O’Brien needs to put you in a good show here. What about Dirty Rotten Scoundrels?

When it first came up, he did talk to me about the part Greg Jbara did [Andre].

What about the John Lithgow part [leading man Lawrence Jameson]?

Well, that’s what I said. I said I’d rather do that part if I’m going to come back to New York. But he had already cast John.

Do your three Tony nominations and all the work you’ve done on Broadway mean anything in L.A.?

No. Having said that, when I first got there, being a New York actor might have gotten me in the door. But it won’t get you a job. What gets you a job is if you’re "right"-or you’re a star! Tom Hanks can say, "I want to do this" or "I want to do that" but if you’re someone like me, if you’re right for the part...

...physically, you mean?

Yeah, there’s a good chance you’ll get it. It isn’t about talent, and it doesn’t need to be. It helps to be an actor because you have that discipline, but for the medium of film to work, you don’t have to be an actor.

That’s a sad statement.

That’s been my experience. An actor will be more consistent and do the scene the same way twice if they’re asked, but even that’s not necessary. Sometimes you want to mix it up because whatever take works, they’ll use. Even if that take has a mistake in it, what you do to fix the mistake within the scene comes off as real, and that’s what they’ll choose. It’s about natural behavior and knowing how to convey that. Now sitcoms are a whole different thing: more farce, much broader. It’s all about the jokes. In film and in TV dramas, it’s about being as real as you can be and believing in the situation as much as you can without going crazy.

Meanwhile you’ve become the king of episodic TV with appearances on more than 50 shows. Tell me about your recurring role as Gunther on Las Vegas.

He’s a crazy German chef. [laughs]

Back to your heritage, huh? [Groener was born in Germany, and his first languages were German and Russian.]

Yes. The breakdown of the guy said he’s a chef of indeterminate dialect. So I said, "Let’s make him German." Tim Busfield, who’s a friend, directed that episode, and we were cracking up. He had me throwing vegetables at my assistant, Benito, whom we never see. I get angry and blame Benito when things go wrong and throw things at him. I love being on that set. I work with Molly Sims most of the time because she’s in charge of the restaurant. But I have scenes with Mr. [James] Caan. He speaks German with me.

I’m sorry I never saw you on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Your role as the evil Mayor sounded so cool.

Outside the stage door, when I sign autographs, half the people are talking about Crazy for You and the other half are talking about Buffy. I really wish that show was still on the air. I love the vampire myths, I’ve read all the Anne Rice books...

They couldn’t make a Broadway musical out of them.

I know. Because of some curse, they could only communicate by singing so they sang the whole show. It was brilliant! Then they did an episode where there was no dialogue. The evil demons were bald and would float off the ground and not say a word. It was so scary. [Buffy creator] Joss Whedon was brilliant.

Would you like a TV show of your own?

Yes, but not a sitcom. Most of the comedies are not funny anymore. I want to do an hour-long show. Not "The Harry Groener Show," but something with a great part. Now it’s only doctors, lawyers, policemen and firemen-only four or five topics get serious dramas on television. So, I want a great part in one of those shows.

Are you happy with the level of fame you have achieved?

For the most part I am. I think there’s one more little step I might be able to get to in film and television, one little rung on the ladder, and if I was given the opportunity and got the parts, I could go there. I haven’t had that chance yet. I don’t think there’s anything above that for me; I’m too old now. I’m trying to get there, and if it happens, great, and if not, that’s the way it goes.

What’s the most exciting night you’ve ever had on the stage?

Some of the most exciting have not been on Broadway. I did Billy Bishop Goes to War at the Globe in 1982. Now granted, that’s a one-person show, but that wasn’t [what made it special]. It was about the experience of telling the story. It was done in the round, and seeing how the people were listening to me was one of the most incredible experiences ever.

But on Broadway, Crazy for You must have been the ultimate. It was the biggest hit of that season.

It really was spectacular. I never thought anything would surpass the sound of the audience applauding on opening night of Oklahoma! until I did Cats. After that, I said, "Nothing will ever be as good as this." Until Crazy for You. I couldn’t believe the sound on opening night. But that kind of response can happen with an audience whether it’s 1,500 people or 42 people. My wife and I belong to a theater company in California called the Antaeus Company that’s devoted to the classics. A couple of years ago, we did four one-acts called "Chekhov Times Four." My wife and I did The Bear in this tiny 42-seat theater, and it was one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done. I literally couldn’t wait to get to the theater. Those experiences were so precious to me.

You and Dawn have been a couple for an amazingly long time.

We’ve been together 30 years, and this September, we will have been married 28 years.

I had heard about your practice of hanging up all the opening night cards she’s sent you over the years on your dressing room wall.

Yes, they’re all from Dawn, and they go back to 1977 or ’78. We met at the Actors Theatre of Louisville in 1976. She was doing Vanities, and [artistic director] Jon Jory asked me, "Would you mind choreographing a few cheers?" I said, "Absolutely." Now, I was never a cheerleader and I never went to football games. I don’t know cheerleading other than what I saw on television. My wife was a cheerleader and immediately said, "He doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground." But it was all good! [laughs] What’s lovely about these cards is that if you read the card she wrote today and the one from 1977, they sound exactly the same.

How do you avoid taking each other for granted?

I’ve never found my relationship with Dawn to be difficult. To be committed to someone, you just have to love them and, to me, that’s easy. I don’t understand a lot of the problems other couples have. I’m lucky, I guess. She’s an incredible woman. There’s never been any jealousy in terms of our work. I can’t get her jobs, and she can’t get my jobs. Where does the jealousy come from? Is it because one person is more successful?

In a word, yes!

If you love the other person, you should rejoice in their successes and support them in their failures. It’s really that simple. If you get jealous, obviously you love yourself more than the other person.

A lot of long-married couples don’t seem to make their relationship the top priority.

You can have lots of things going on, but if at a moment’s notice you have to make a decision, know that the decision is going to be your husband or your wife. If you’re clear about that, then the other person is the priority. If something happened and I had to make her the focus, I’d do it like that [snaps his fingers].

And she didn’t mind moving to New York on two weeks’ notice for you to do Spamalot?

No, because that’s been our life since we met. And we don’t have children. If we did, all our choices would have been different. It would have been about having consistency and not so much moving around.

Do you regret that the two of you never became parents?

No. There was a time when we didn’t do anything to prevent having children, but we never had them so there has to be a reason why. And it works out just fine now, it really does. I think Dawn would be a fantastic mom. I don’t know what I would be like as a dad. I like kids and they amuse me, but I don’t regret it. There’s no sadness there, and Dawn feels the same way. We’re such a unit.

Saving all these notes from her and displaying them in your dressing room is a tremendously romantic gesture.

I can’t stand being apart from her, and it gets worse and worse the older I get. Since we’ve been here [for Spamalot], she’s been away a lot, in L.A. and down in Virginia seeing her folks. Soon she is going to Montana, and being by myself drives me nuts. I sit there like the dog at the door waiting for her. I want to be with her all the time.

See Harry Groener in Spamalot at the Shubert Theatre, 225 West 44th Street.