Broadway's bad boy rises again in The Threepenny Opera.
By Brandon Voss
I meet Alan Cumming for a late dinner at a modest East Village trattoria. Though I'd naively anticipated an intimate candlelit setting where the two of us might get to know each other's deepest secrets and longings, Cumming's entourage of more than a dozen gregarious bohemians seated at our extra-long table doesn't allow for very much one-on-one quality time.
Even so, I'm content to be a star-fucking fly on the wall, drinking the actor's white wine and laughing along to his spicy anecdotes. Like that time Robin Byrd groped his balls. Or, a story prompted by an unexpected phone call from Baryshnikov, that time he and the ballet legend, then an audience member, shared an impromptu dance during a performance of Cabaret. Whether it's the tales themselves or the manner in which he spins them, when Cumming speaks, everyone at the table stops to listen. And for a brief moment of rare silence, the scene resembles a surreal tableau of the Last Supper.
Slap on some heavy eyeliner and dole out a few criminal records and it could also be a gang scene from Roundabout Theatre Company's new Broadway revival of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill's 1928 musical The Threepenny Opera. Cumming stars as Macheath (aka Mac the Knife), a villainous anti-Messiah of sorts to a pack of ne'er-do-well disciples in Victorian London.
No stranger to morally corrupt characters — or sometimes seedy local gay nightspots — Cumming doesn't entirely understand the typecasting. "I'm a really sweet, simple and innocent person," he insists. "People merely project their own badness and moral corruption on me."
Though he's comfortable as Macheath, Cumming isn't certain what makes him the ideal choice for the role. "The biggest challenge is making someone who is a murderer, rapist and thief attractive and sexy," he says, pointing to the subject of the number "The Ballad of the Overwhelming Power of Sex" as Macheath's ultimate downfall. "And if I bring anything to the role of Macheath, it's an understanding of the overwhelming power of sex."
"Macheath is an animal that needs to devour anyone he comes across," Cumming continues, "and as everyone in the play is desperate for something, there are always plenty of takers of both sexes. I must say, I like it. It's nice to go to work and make out with so many people."
Leading the cross-dressing crew, Christopher Kenney, Kevin Rennard, and Brian Butterick — creators of renowned drag queens Edie, Flotilla DeBarge, and Hattie Hathaway, respectively — make their Broadway debut as featured members of the Threepenny ensemble. "It's been great watching Hattie, Edie, and Flo adapt to an environment that is alien to them, making it a more fabulous one because of their presence. The entire cast is full of oddballs, and in a funny way, everyone is a star in his or her own world. Of course, that can cause fireworks occasionally, but it's worth it."
Macheath's pansexuality and a gender-bending chorus only scratch the surface of what makes this revival one of the gayest shows on the Great White Way. For one, costume designer Isaac Mizrahi has squeezed the male cast into a wardrobe largely consisting of tight pants, bikini bottoms, and booty shorts. "It's all about the cock," Cumming explains. "So with my full support, Isaac made sure our members are presented in their fullest glory."
Cumming's costars Nellie McKay, Jim Dale, and Ana Gasteyer steal scenes, but only Cyndi Lauper, making her Broadway debut as the backstabbing whore Jenny, can take a fag's focus away from a bulging, leather-clad crotch. "I am in awe of her," Cumming says of the iconic pop star. "I call her 'the little witch' because she's always giving me potions and sticking my head into steaming pots to help my voice. She's also great fun to go out with. Last night we all went out to a club and she was dancing on top of the banquettes."
Complementing director Scott Elliott's dark and spartan experimental staging, Wallace Shawn also lends the production some sass with a wildly colorful new translation. Says Cumming: "I'm sure Brecht would be pleased by the use of 'pussy,' 'cunt', and 'fuck.'"
Sexed up or not, Cumming has his own opinions as to why the oft-revived Threepenny still resonates with audiences today. "It's a really great piece," he offers, "basically saying that the rich don't care about the poor and desperate, and that certainly hasn't changed. Just look at the response to Hurricane Katrina last year."
It's a typical response from the politically minded, socially aware philanthropist, who, in addition to lending his time and face to a myriad of worthy causes, donates 20 percent of all online sales of his cheeky Cumming beauty line to charities such as amfAR, Empire State Pride Agenda, and Keep a Child Alive.
When the wine at our table has disappeared and the last piece of calamari has been devoured, Cumming, in a much appreciated gesture that surprises no one, picks up the tab for the table. I follow his posse over to nearby Mo Pitkin's, where Cumming is appearing as a special guest at Murray Hill's weekly variety show. On stage, he quizzes the audience on whether or not his penis is circumsized (it's not), and reunites with Daniela Sea, whose androgynous character penetrated his with a strap-on during his six episode arc on The L Word earlier this year. The largely lesbian crowd laps up Cumming's signature naughtiness.
When he returns to his seat, a cocktail waitress nearly suffers an aneurysm upon taking his drink order. "Oh my God, I just have to tell you that I love you so, so much," she says breathlessly. "Okay, now that that's out of the way, what can I get you?" She's just one of many faithful followers who knows that worshipping Alan Cumming is akin to screaming out the Lord's name during dirty sex: Sometimes being a bit naughty brings you one step closer to heaven.
HX, April 2006.
Alan Cumming: Smell His Success!
Local trailblazers talk about gay frontiers and wild times.
By Brandon Voss
After his Tony-winning turn in Cabaret, Alan Cumming went Hollywood. Now, like Liz Taylor and J.Lo before him, the 40-year-old Scotsman has created his own scent, Cumming. Next March he returns to Broadway in The Threepenny Opera.
HX: How does Cumming stack up to Britney's Curious?
Alan Cumming: It's a sexy, earthy smell with dirty notes like leather, rubber, cigar, mud and truffle, and lighter notes like bergamot. It's doing well, but I don't think Britney need worry too much.
You're known for edgy roles and children's films. Do you ever get the two worlds confused — like, go on the set of Spy Kids and do a drug-addled striptease?
All the time! But I make everyone behave that way. Last night I had dinner with five of my agents, and we spent most of the night talking about masturbation and foreskin — which, incidentally, is my very favorite possession.
Do you uphold any special Pride traditions?
I always try to go to Victor Calderone's parties, so I shall be at Crobar on Pride Sunday.
Whom do you consider a gay pioneer?
Ian McKellen. When I was growing up in Britain, he was challenging Thatcher's policies against homos. And he's a fun person to go out with!
Who's the Lewis to your Clark?
Grant, and his being in my life feels like proof I must have done a lot of good in a former life. Like with Lewis and Clark, every day with him is an adventure — though not so scary, I imagine.
What's the wildest thing you've ever done?
I once fucked a journalist who had come over to interview me. Twice.
HX, June 2005.