Tony Nominee Paul Ritter on Throwing Paint on Rufus Sewell & Tim Key, Following Elton John on Tony Night & Starring in Art

Paul Ritter was a 2009 Tony nominee for his superb performance in Alan Ayckbourn’s The Norman Conquests and now the British stage and TV stalwart is appearing with Rufus Sewell and Tim Key in the 20th-anniversary revival of Yasmina Reza’s Tony-winning play Art, the dark comedy about a friendship rent asunder by a painting is at the Old Vic Theatre. A veteran of other London hits like The Audience and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Ritter spoke one recent afternoon about being in a contemporary classic and what it’s like to get drenched in paint.

Was this offer a no-brainer when [director] Matthew Warchus brought it to you?
It was great, actually. I got a message from Matthew sort of late summer asking how I felt about doing this, and I thought it would be good to get back in the ring with Matthew, having had such an extraordinary time with him on The Norman Conquests.

Had you seen the play during its lengthy original West End run?
I’d seen the second cast with David Haig, Anton Lesser, and Mark Williams, who were all tremendous. I remember being bowled over by them and by the play. I was scratching around London at the time trying to be an actor, and it had a big emotional pull for me. I remember seeing it and thinking how riveting it was and wouldn’t it be great to be inside it.

Does it feel odd that Matthew Warchus has directed so many different trios of actors in this particular play?
I think this is the 11th cast that Matthew has himself directed in this play, and the way he works is not to have a copy book of what he expects people to do. He allows the cast to create what they think the play is, so rehearsals are very relaxed. He’s the most organic of directors.

How did you end up playing the catalytic role of Marc, who goes on the offensive against a blank canvas purchased by his friend Serge (played by Rufus Sewell), while Yvan (Tim Key) acts as the middleman?
Matthew did say who do you fancy playing, and I said Marc. I don’t often get offered roles like Marc and most directors would have me down as a Yvan: the hapless one of the trio. So, what was great was that I was able to stake out my territory; that was another nice thing about the offer.

What was the photoshoot like for the ad campaign for the play, which shows you and your two fellow actors doused in paint?
The idea of pots of paint came about very swiftly. We arrived at the shoot and were each presented with a cheap suit and tie and told to get dressed and after about half an hour of us standing next to one another and looking at each other with attitude, Matthew said, “Do you want to grab some paint?” We had probably half an hour of drenching one another.

Was that as much fun as it sounds?
It felt rather good, I must say, though we were absolutely sopping wet at the end. But we were given nice shampoo and other products and a towel and were sent off to the showers, so I think I came out fairly clean. I did find that the paint had drenched through to my underwear, which I hadn’t anticipated; it made for a rather uncomfortable trip home.

Was it all worth it?
Oh, yes, it made for a very engaging image. I’ve put in a request to keep one of the posters for myself.

Do you agree with playwright Yasmina Reza, who says that she thought she had written a tragedy, no matter how much people respond to Art as a comedy?
All three of us are with her on that. The thing I feel about Marc is that for all his animosity toward the painting, the fact is that he is himself at this terrible point in late middle age, where every day is just another step along this circuitous route to death and it’s terrifying.

Does that lead the play into genuinely dark terrain?
I articulated this to Matthew and he says that, yes, Marc has woken up screaming in the night consumed by an essential terror, and, of course, that’s linked to what Marc talks about in the play. He’s being replaced in Serge’s life by a new circle of friends: Serge is peeling off into new social circles, and that only emphasizes Marc’s feelings of obsolescence.

Do you feel that the painting could be anything: it's what it represents, not what it is?
Sure, anything from a vintage car to a person. The painting is the Trojan horse, the MacGuffin or whatever you want to call it that comes between Serge and Marc, though there are lots of people who do feel very strongly that the piece of art is fundamental to [the play]. People relate to it in their own individual ways, which is a testament to the robustness and subtlety of the play that people can have these reactions: it’s a big little play. 

How do you feel about art itself—that’s to say, not as Marc but as Paul?
I’m largely an ignoramus about art but am nonetheless an enthusiastic observer of it and I do visit galleries—what I particularly love are portraits and contemporary portraiture. I can’t pretend to have any deep knowledge of art, but it is something that I regard with envy and admiration and fascination.

Do you sometimes feel like defending the painting from Marc’s aspersions?
You know, I love the painting! I love the texturing of it and one of my favorite moments is after the cleaning operation towards the end of the play when the men mount it on the wall and gather round it. Maybe I’ll have to buy it once the run is over so I can be terrified by it every day.

Art has been a much-produced phenomenon but did you feel that The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time would become a different kind of one when you first opened in it in 2012?
Yes, I had absolutely no doubt about that. It’s a wonderful novel, and I just think Simon Stephens has done such a truthful and clear and simple adaptation of it. Then the artistic team represented such an incredible pooling of talent—right from the very beginning, it just had the most extraordinary effect on audiences.

What are your memories of Tony night in 2009, when you were nominated for The Norman Conquests, which itself won the Tony for Best Revival?
It was pretty hard to take in for me. My wife and I were given a car and driver—this wonderful man who drove us around all day and then afterward until dawn. The bit I always remember is that after we got our award [for Best Revival], we had to get escorted out of the back of the building up to the Rainbow Room for all the press, and there we were following Elton John.

What was that like? 
We were aware that Elton was crossing the road in front of us and walking through this tunnel of screaming fans. It was mayhem, and then we walked out and instantly it was silent and people sat down and got out their sandwiches. We felt that was fitting, somehow.