Brian Conley is one of Britain's best-known TV personalities, a regular presence on the small screen who has also spent much of his career lighting up the stage. The London-born actor had a career high in 1995 playing the title character in the Olivier Award-winning musical Jolson, a venture that kept him busy for three years between the U.K. and Canada. (Conley received his own Olivier nomination for that same show.) Since that time, he has taken over in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang at the Palladium as Caractacus Potts and played Harold Hill in Meredith Willson's The Music Man. Now Conley is headlining at the Shaftesbury Theatre as the slow-blooming Baltimore housewife Edna Turnblad in Hairspray, offering the growliest matron this buoyant musical has had since Tony winner Harvey Fierstein led the Broadway premiere. Broadway.com caught up with the gregarious performer about takeovers, fat suits and discovering his latent femininity.
It seems extraordinary to go to all the effort of preparing to play Edna to then only do the show for six months. [Conley started in the production on July 27 and is set to play the part through October 24. His predecessor, Michael Ball, starred in the musical for nearly two years.]
I know! Basically, when I auditioned, they said they wanted me for a year but unfortunately I told them I'm busy over Christmas doing pantomime in glorious Southend [Southend-on-Sea in Essex] and they said, "That's OK, we'll buy you out," and when they found out how much that all would cost, they then said, ‘No, he can go and do that.' They've been holding their cards close to their chest, and rightly so, to see how I am in the show, but hopefully in the next couple of weeks we will make a decision about me coming back [to Hairspray] in the new year.
So you’d like to return to the show?
The panto is only six weeks, so I've said, Yes, I would love to come back to Hairspray. I know I will not have got it out of my system. You're right, too, that it is a huge effort: every wig I wear is two thousand pounds worth and they've all been made for me, so I would sort of like to pay that back.
You're certainly the slimmest Edna I've ever seen. How tall are you?
I'm 5'9", but I've got quite a big head so I think in proportion. It is true that at the dress run for Edna my costume wasn't big enough and they made it even bigger. What is quite nice is that Chloe [co-star Chloe Hart, who plays Edna's good-hearted, large-featured daughter Tracy] is large but has very thin wrists and ankles, so we can get away with that, hopefully. It's funny, though: when I flew over to Broadway a few years ago to audition for Bialystock in The Producers for Mel Brooks, I said, "Are they aware how slim I am?" I got there and Mel Brooks said, "Oh, I thought you were going to be a bit older and fatter," and I went, "No, did you see my photo?" He was oblivious even to the fact that I had played Al Jolson.
You're also vocally the most like Harvey Fierstein, who of course originated the role in New York.
I found it quite amazing when I listened to the cast album because you think Harvey's going to go .... [chokes] and not only doesn't he, but he did two years with never ever a day off and even when he was given two weeks holiday he still carried on.
All the more reason for you to return for longer.
Yes, and the thing about this part is it isn't actually that big a deal; I had just done The Music Man and in Jolson I had 26 songs, so this is a bit of a breeze [laughs]. What they say is that Tracy's the lead and Edna's the star. In the second act, I'm only on three times: there's the opening; then Timeless To Me, which is lovely, I enjoy the freedom we're given with that and the finale.
You and Nigel Planer [the fellow comedian and West End veteran who plays Wilbur Turnblad, Edna's adorably eccentric husband] certainly push the Timeless duet to pretty dizzy heights.
I kept telling Nigel I couldn't kiss him until I got into a dress. The thing is, everything we do is there, it's in the script: "Stop dribbling" and "I can't concentrate with you jiggling behind me like that." [Laughs] The only bit I've added is that silly little dance across the stage when I slap his hands. What's important is to play it for real. It's important to have fun with Timeless but you don't want to go too far. You've only got to pause and let the audience in and you're off.
Were you reluctant to be a replacement?
I'd taken over from Michael before in Chitty. And years ago I did a run in Me and My Girl, which is why with Jolson I said I want to do something where I originate the piece. What happened there was that I was a victim of my own success, I suppose, in that once I left the production, the show closed. The first couple of times with this it was daunting where you've got to realize that everyone else knows it like the back of their hands. In the end, it's about being kind to yourself and letting [the performance] grow. What's nice, too, is that I got four weeks rehearsal, and [the creative team] wasn't that anal. I was worried they'd be saying, "You lift your arm here," or "This is when you say this or do that," but not at all; they said have fun. Now that we're doing it, I like to think that I'm gradually becoming more feminine—that I'm sort of a cross between Harvey and Michael in the middle somewhere.
Did you study the production as an audience member?
I never saw the show in New York and when I came to see it last Christmas with my family, I didn't come away thinking I'd be doing it. I thought, What a lovely, fun, energetic show, but it wasn't like when I saw Oliver! and thought, You know, one year I'd like to play Fagin. Once I got the part, I did come back to see Michael again and also Adam [the understudy Edna, Adam Price]. But that's the thing about my career: there's no logical game plan with me. I've dipped into so many fields and enjoy it all.
Including playing a woman?
My wife and I got my daughters [Amy, 12, and Lucy, seven] T-shirts that say, My dad's Edna Turnblad! I've got no hang-ups about it, though having said that, I don't think I've ever been so scared as I was just before my opening night. I was standing out there on the truck with the ironing board listening to “Good Morning Baltimore” [the opening number] and I thought, oh my God, what am I doing here turned up like this? Once I got out there, it was fine.