London Assassins Star Mike McShane on Meeting Shakespeare & His ‘Thin Dude’ Co-Star Aaron Tveit

Jamie Lloyd’s blistering production of the Stephen Sondheim and John Weidman musical Assassins is hurtling into its final month at the Menier Chocolate Factory, and is about to welcome two new cast members: Michael Xavier and Anna Francolini, who succeed Aaron Tveit and Catherine Tate, respectively (though Tate will return for the final two weeks). What better time to chat with company stalwart Mike McShane, whose devastating performance as the deranged Sam Byck is among the show’s highlights? Broadway.com caught the comedy circuit and film regular one recent afternoon and found the irrepressible performer in typically expansive mood.

Assassins composer Stephen Sondheim attended an early performance—how nerve-wracking was that?
We didn’t know he was going to be there, but just before I went onstage, someone said to me, “make sure you’re careful with your signage; don’t hit anybody with what you’re carrying.” All of a sudden I thought, “something’s going on,” and I got very nervous.

What was Mr. Sondheim’s review?
He was so generous and sweet, and so affirming about where Jamie [Lloyd, director] and we were going with it. It was a good boost in the arm to us. He’s been back to see it three times, so we’re chuffed. I count myself a very lucky American on many levels and one of them is that I got to have Shakespeare, as I call our composer, come watch me in his work.

You play a guy who attempted to crash a plane into the Nixon White House in 1974. Do you remember the real incident?
I remember us joking about it then, strangely enough. I was 19 and in the service, so I was aware of it only in passing, but at that point in our history nobody had got a plane up in the air in order to crash it as a weapon. If he had succeeded, God knows what would have happened to our country then.

In the decades since, that improbability has become a horrifying reality.
Yes, and when I talk about dropping a plane on the president, you can feel the temperature in the audience shift; you can almost hear the Americans in the house holding their breath since that notion means something different to us now.

You bring Samuel Byck to vivid life—do you envision him as an American misfit version of Sweeney Todd?
Both Byck and Sweeney Todd—or Benjamin Barker—have that horrible unrequited anger that they don’t know what to do with, and the thing with Byck is that nobody wants to hear or listen to him which only intensifies his need to be heard, so he goes on the attack. It’s all there in what Mr. Sondheim and Mr. Weidman have written. Sondheim is the master, he really is.

Do you think there could be a Sweeney Todd in your future?
[Laughs.] Aside from whether I’d ever begin to be able to sing it, I don’t think so. I’m more Beadle Bamford territory now.

We’re very happy to have you at the Menier in one of the finest musical theatre ensembles I can remember.
Thank you! This is one of the best companies I’ve ever been part of in my life. The nature of how it’s performed is that we feed off one another. I’m an improviser as well as an actor, so to be fed by Aaron Tveit or Catherine Tate is to be getting a four-course meal of the highest quality.

Both of whom are leaving the production, though Catherine is coming back for the final two weeks. Will you miss Aaron?
I can hardly wait till he’s gone, I f*cking hate him [laughs]. No, of course, I’m real sad. He’s a brilliant actor and a decent dude who happens to be incredibly talented and good-looking and that’s why I hate him so much! We’re all going to miss him.

Have you bought him a farewell gift?
I have, in fact. It’s a really cool David Bowie t-shirt that he’s just the right sort of thin dude to wear. I certainly couldn’t; it wouldn’t give off the right vibe [laughs].

I don’t envy the Menier box office having to deal with Aaron fans who discover he’s leaving February 8.
There are some gals in the audience who are only there to see Aaron and he could be standing there shaving a cat and wearing a dunce cap and they would pay money to see that. But there are others, as well. There was one girl who came up to me afterwards and said, “Are all musicals like this?” and I said to her, “No they’re not. Make a note of the name Stephen Sondheim and have a look at this guy’s music.”

What amazes me is how quickly the cast emerges into the theater bar after the show given how bruising the material is.
The Brits have this amazing sensibility about show business probably because they’ve been doing it since some dude picked up a lyre and said, “Here’s a song about Beowulf,” so there’s very little of that bullsh*t. Jamie Parker [the Balladeer] may feel like he’s ripped his guts out and then he goes downstairs and sees his wife and kid.

It would be wonderful to see this production in New York. Do you think that could happen?
That would be great but can’t you just see the Fox News headline: “American-hating British company comes to do American-hating musical written by American-hating Jew.” We live in difficult times.

Any memories that come to mind about your time on Broadway?
I did a play with Matthew Broderick called Taller than a Dwarf [in 2000] where we had two opposing directors: Alan Arkin who was there to direct it and our writer, Elaine May, who tried to direct it. I did La Cage when Harvey [Fierstein] came in with Jeffrey Tambor, who left for reasons that remain locked forever in a secret vault. But what was great was that I got to meet Chris Sieber, who took over. That was the first time they’d actually had two gay men in those roles.

Was Harvey a real mensch?
Oh, he was, while also displaying this sharp critical mind about queer history and theater history, and I would just sit there and pick his brains. My cat died during the show, and the cat was 22-years-old so when it went, that was a big deal for me. I was a mess, actually, but Harvey just sat me down and talked to me. I’m especially fond of that memory.