The Shoemaker’s Danny Aiello on His Emotional Stage Role, Playing Tough Guys and Kicking Nicolas Cage’s Ass

From The Godfather to The Last Don to his Oscar-nominated turn in Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing, Danny Aiello has played plenty of tough Italians in his impressive film career—but never one quite like the one he's currently tackling on the off-Broadway stage. As the title character in Susan Charlotte’s The Shoemaker, Aiello plays an aging cobbler holed up in his Hell’s Kitchen shop on September 11, 2001, who deals with the uncertain present while re-living the tragedies in his own family of Italian Jews caught in the Holocaust. During a break from rehearsals, the 78-year-old native New Yorker chatted with Broadway.com about the personal tragedies that inform his current role, why he’d kick Moonstruck co-star Nicolas Cage’s ass, and how "an old bastard" keeps himself busy.

How did you get involved with The Shoemaker?
[Playwright] Susan Charlotte had a company called Food For Thought and we’d done readings together, and one day she said, "I have this piece called A Broken Sole about 9/11." It was one act, and we did some benefits with it and eventually made a motion picture. The critics seemed to love it, but it was only 37 minutes long and seen by about 14 people because we didn’t have money for publicity. I told her, "For this to really be seen, we’re going to have to do it as a full length stage play."

So you collaborated closely with Susan Charlotte in creating the piece?
Oh yes. She wrote it, but she’s very receptive to my creative thinking, so a lot of the offstage voices, things like that that we use in the show, were my idea. I’d send her emails at four in the morning or call her at midnight with ideas and we’d talk them through until we found a solution.

This is a tough subject. Why did you want to tackle it?
Because, like most people, I’m devastated [by the events depicted in the play]. I always remember the possibility of it happening again and I want to shout from the highest rooftop, “We’re not gonna take it anymore!” like in The Network. Sometimes people articulate tragic circumstances to such a point that they sanitize the actual tragedy and it seems not as bad as it was when it occurred. I’m a very emotional Italian, and I don’t want this to sound corny but I want to shout out for all those people who can no longer shout, who were in 9/11 and in the Holocaust. I want to give them a voice and I don’t want to articulate it, I want to scream it at the top of my lungs.

Do you work on all your projects this intensely?
Never to this degree; it’s a good distraction for me. I lost my son Danny to pancreatic cancer on May 1, 2010, and I needed distractions in my life. It doesn’t take it away but sometimes I’m so involved in this that the hurt of my son leaves me for a couple of moments. That’s why I live with this play every minute. When I’m in bed, my wife will hear me memorizing, talking, doing scenes. Sometimes she says she’s in bed with four different people, but that’s what I do. I’ve never been as dedicated to any project as I have been to this one.

How do you get through this every day?
To tell you the truth, I have no idea! I’m venting, and the venting from day to day helps you. It’s like a therapist would say, use this to benefit yourself. I don’t know if it’s beneficial, but day by day it gives me the power to do it the next day.

This role is quite a departure for you. You’re known for playing pretty tough guys.
Sure, with the The Last Don, a small role in The Godfather, Do the Right Thing, The Professional, which I actually didn’t even want to do. Then there was Johnny Cammareri in Moonstruck, and I hated playing such a wimp! You don’t think Nicky Cage is gonna win a woman that I have, do you? Not in life, honey. I would kick his ass if he did!

Why didn’t you want to be in The Professional?
I didn’t think the role was big enough, but Luc came all the way from France and said, “Danny, please!” I said “It’s three scenes!” and he said, “Danny, it’s the role.” I said, “Role my ass, you guys all say that—it’s three scenes!” So he added two more scenes, and then I saw his film La Femme Nikita and loved it so much I wanted to be part of his repertoire.

Is it true you’re working on a musical about one of the most famous Italians of all, Al Capone?
Yes, but this is not the caricature Capone, with a cigar and a white hat and coat. This is the last days of his life, when syphilis has almost totally overcome his mind. I was apprehensive about doing it, but Robert Mitchell’s songs are great and there’s a lot of humor in it, a lot of pathos, sadness and violence. I think it’s something that’s really going to catch the imagination of the American public, so we’ll see.

Is it your first musical?
It is, but I’m a singer. My fourth album is coming out in a couple of weeks, and with my eight-piece orchestra I play The Blue Note, The Regency Hotel, all over Atlantic City. I don’t want you to think you’re seeing an old dog here, so go to YouTube and look for Danny Aiello and Hasan doing “Besame Mucho” because my new album, Bridges, is me and a rapper, and I think it’s fantastic.

Do you ever stop working?
I’m an old bastard trying to keep himself busy!

You didn’t start acting until you were in your late 30s; did you dream of being an actor as a kid?
Never. In my neighborhood we looked at the movie screen and we thought those people either came from Mars or California, which seemed like the same thing! There was no forethought on my part that I’d be an actor.

Is that why you never moved to Los Angeles, even though you've now done more than 90 films?
I only went to Los Angeles when the studios, those cheap bastards, flew me out and paid me to come! I never went out there seeking work or brownnosing for a job. I was fortunate enough to be able to say, “If they want me, they’ll call me,” and they did. Whatever talent I have I thank God for, but luck has so much to do with it. I know actors far better than me who didn’t have my career simply because they weren’t in the right place at the right time. I certainly don’t take it for granted and I never will.

See Danny Aiello in The Shoemaker at the Acorn Theatre on Theatre Row.