Frances Sternhagen

Exactly 50 years after her Broadway debut in Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth, Frances Sternhagen is starring in the Broadway revival of another play that turns realism on its ear, Edward Albee's Seascape. The 75-year-old actress doesn't like to reveal the show's arresting plot twist, but it's no secret that—spoiler alert—after spending the first act gently bickering on a beach with George Grizzard about their characters' long marriage, she finds herself face-to-face with two giant lizards, played by Elizabeth Marvel and Frederick Weller. Seascape is only the latest in a string of high-profile revivals Sternhagen has done in the past few years Morning's at Seven, which brought her seventh Tony Award nomination, The Foreigner and Steel Magnolias, and recurring roles as Noah Wyle's grandmother on ER and Kyle MacLachlan's imperious mother, Bunny, on Sex and the City have kept her in the public eye. Just before Seascape's opening night, she gave Broadway.com a brief review of her varied career.

Congratulations your 50th anniversary as a Broadway actress.
It's hard to believe. What's fun about this play is that when I started out professionally, at the Arena Stage in Washington, DC, I was in the company with George Grizzard for almost two years. We did quite a number of things together. Somebody recently gave him a picture of us in Arms and the Man. I remember he played my son in one show—that's what you do in a company when you're just starting out.

No wonder you have such a nice on-stage relationship.
It's very comfortable. We really enjoy working together.

Have you ever acted in an Albee play?
I haven't, and I don't really know how I was cast. After I was asked to do this, George called me and he said, "Franny, you have to do it." Now, of course, I am realizing that it's a lot of words! My standby, Jenny Harmon, who is just darling, walked up to me and said, "Franny, I'm on page six." [Laughs] It's that awful feeling of "God, I've got to learn all this stuff."

You have several complicated monologues with surprisingly intimate dialogue. Is that fun?
Well, now that I'm pretty confident about it, it is fun. The language is so good and has so many interesting little turns. One minute she's enthusiastic, the next minute she's angry, another minute she's recalling something. You never know where she's going to go.

Were you taken aback by the fact that you're flashing the younger characters in act two?
What do you mean by flashing?

You raise your T-shirt to show them your breasts.
No, there's something rather sweet about that. My character is rather school-teacherish about some things, and I think that's one of them.

Did Edward Albee sit in on rehearsals?
Very seldom. He talked to Mark [Lamos], the director, and Mark would relay his suggestions. But I was pleased that at one point at the beginning of previews, [Albee] said we were on the right track.

Of course, George Grizzard is the ultimate expert in Albee. I read that he did the first reading of Seascape.
Yes, and he was the original Nick in Virginia Woolf.

And he won a Tony for the Broadway revival of A Delicate Balance. Did he give you advice about the material?
No. A couple of times he shared his ideas for how to approach something or a physical thing, but nothing serious. I think he felt very confident that Mark knew what he was doing.

It's hard to give a capsule version of the play. How do you describe it to people?
Well, Edward Albee has hoped that people would not reveal how the first act ends because it should be a surprise. So I say it's a play about relationships between an older couple and a younger couple. And our two young actors [Marvel and Weller] are wonderful.

Albee's biography says the play is a commentary on evolution. Do you get that?
It is, in a way. But you have to draw your own conclusions about it. I wouldn't possibly be able to say what the play is really about. It's about thinking about life.

Albee doesn't seem to like to explain the meaning of his plays.
Most playwrights I've worked with don't. I was in a play by Harold Pinter some years ago and the other actor asked him at one point, "What does my character mean here?" And Harold said, "Well, I don't know, I just wrote it." [Laughs] You sometimes feel that playwrights are conduits for interesting people and interesting thoughts. A friend who is writing a book on Tennessee Williams says that Williams let his characters speak for themselves. You can't really expect a writer to say, "This is what I'm writing about and this is what I mean." Everybody has to come away from a good play with his or her own thoughts.

Like Marian Seldes, you've been working nonstop for the past few years. How do you account for that?
I don't know. We're very fortunate because I thought it wouldn't be long before people would stop hiring me. The television and film industry has pretty much stopped hiring me. I don't know if it's because I decided never to get a facelift—they always want you to look younger on film and TV. I was playing older people before I was an older person. But I'm just grateful I've been getting work. When a show closes, every actor always thinks, "I'll never work again." Sometimes I get called for things that don't really interest me and I turn them down because it takes too much energy. You've got to want to do it.

You and Lily Rabe stole Steel Magnolias last spring as Clairee and Annelle. Is the ability to do comedy something an actor is born with?
I think so. I really do. It's like timing—I don't think anyone can teach you timing. It's either there or it isn't.

Would your children say you are funny?
Sometimes. I'm not nearly as funny as someone like Lily Tomlin. But when I get the chance to say other people's funny words, I seem to know how to do it. I love making people laugh.

You have a whole new generation of fans from Sex and the City.
I know. My 19-year-old granddaughter recently walked off with my boxed set of DVDs. I had to e-mail her and say, "Did you take that set without asking?" And she e-mailed back, "Oh Franny, I'm so sorry. I'll take very good care of them."

That must have been a fun show to be part of.
It was. All the actors were terrific, and the crew was lovely. Not long ago, I was with a friend in the Campo in Siena, in Italy, looking like death warmed over. I had on my blue jeans and my hiking boots and my floppy hat. And this tall blonde woman came running up to me and said [taking on a Scandinavian accent], "Sex and the City! We're Swedish, we love that show! May I have my picture with you?" It was just bizarre.

Your theatrical resume has so much variety. What were some of the most satisfying productions?
Oh, so many. The Skin of Our Teeth was one. It began at Catholic University in Washington, and then I understudied the three ladies who took it to Paris: Helen Hayes, Mary Martin and Frances Reid. I loved The Country Wife by Wycherley, and Equus and On Golden Pond.

I did the math and was amazed to realize you weren't even 50 years old when you opened on Broadway in On Golden Pond. How did that happen?
They couldn't find anybody who was the right age and could remember all the lines. That was often the case with things I did. I was in a play based on Flannery O'Connor's short stories called The Displaced Person, and took over the part from someone who started to have heart trouble. She was the right age and I wasn't, but it was a satisfying experience. I loved doing Driving Miss Daisy, too.

Is it harder to make a go of it as an actor now than when you and your late husband, actor Thomas Carlin, were starting out?
Oh yes. There was a lot of television here then, and more Broadway theater.

How did you build a career and raise six children at the same time?
I really don't know. [Laughs] My husband was very supportive and very good with the children, and we took turns taking jobs. In many ways, it was easier to do then than it is now.

Why?
It was not as expensive to have children then. There were free clinics, and you could find a house in a comfortable neighborhood. My children grew up in New Rochelle and they could walk to the public school and back; we never even thought of whether it might be dangerous. All the children in the neighborhood walked to school. Life with children is so much more complicated now with all these play dates and stuff. Then, the kids in the neighborhood just played together. My husband and I weren't hugely successful, but nothing was as expensive as it is now.

But wasn't it a big decision to have six children?
No, because I think I planned two of them. The other ones just kind of happened. [Laughs] But I was an only child, and it's fun to have a big family. When they all get together, it's crazy but it's fun.

How many of your kids are in the business?
Four. One who started out as an actor is now driving; he's a Teamster. I've got a musician who could have been an actor but he decided to go with his music instead. I've got a teacher of performing arts. And my son Paul is out on the road at the moment in Julie Andrews' production of The Boy Friend. We did Long Day's Journey Into Night together, which was a lot of fun because we understood how to work together.

You've been a widow for almost 15 years. Were you ever temped to marry again?
No, partly because I've been so busy working. And when you have six children, you're concerned with them. All of the memories I had with my husband centered around the family, it would be hard to get together with someone who didn't share those memories.

Are there any parts you'd like to play?
Not really, because I'm too old for some of the ones I would have loved to play. I'm so grateful that I got to do at least Neil Simon's version of Chekhov [The Good Doctor] because I always wanted to do a Chekhov play and I'm too old for most of those parts now. At this point in my life, I don't want to play a housekeeper!

See Frances Sternhagen in Seascape at the Booth Theatre, 222 West 45th Street. Click for tickets and more information.