Photo Credit: Stan Barouh
When I was a kid—somewhere in the Fifties—my father, a typical repressed man of his time, had a secret stash of girlie magazines which my brother and I naturally perused when he wasn’t looking. Amongst the semi-naked women there usually was a comedy column or two written by some down-and-out burlesque comic. In many of these trashy periodicals that comic was way too often Zero Mostel who had fallen so far down the showbiz ladder that this was just one sleazy way to make a feeble income after having been blacklisted during the dreadful McCarthy period.
The Blacklist is the most salient element in Jim Brochu’s new one-man show Zero Hour, now playing at the Theatre at St. Clement’s. In Zero Hour Mr. Brochu portrays Zero Mostel just a few weeks before his death during the rehearsal period for a Broadway-bound play, The Merchant. Zero Hour takes the form of an interview. An unseen, and unheard, reporter from the New York Times—whom Mostel dubs “a goyische Woody Allen”—plies the at-first resistant Mostel with the usual clichéd questions which gradually lead to a cascade of revealing vignettes and stories.
Set in Mostel’s messy painting studio on West 28th St., we see Mostel where feels most at home. It seems he considered himself more a painter than a comedian or actor and forever resisted his wife’s calls to give the studio up. After he quips that his life is “an open zipper,” Mostel settles down to tell the reporter, whose name it seems is Arthur, the story of his life, beginning with his childhood in Brooklyn where is father was a “sidewalk rabbi” sacramental winemaker and his mother was a serial sue-er of large businesses in order to keep her family afloat.
He showed an early aptitude for art which became is lifelong passion, but gradually eased into doing stand-up comedy at the fabled Café Society in Greenwich Village where he was discovered by Hollywood and where he also met his second wife, Kate, whom he married because—he claimed--his first wife had no sense of humor. He pretty much failed in Hollywood and drifted during hard times into leftist philosophies, finally finding fame in several shows on Broadway, most notably Ulysses in Nighttown based on James Joyce and Rhinocerous by Ionesco. Most ironically Mr. Brochu reveals that Mostel was third choice (!) for two of his most famous Broadway shows: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum and Fiddler on the Roof, but this was after a long period of being blacklisted and refusing to name names.
A large portion of Zero Hour is devoted to the horrible toll that the Blacklist took on him and his closest friends and colleagues. Most particularly the loss of his good friend Phillip Loeb who appeared as the husband/father on “The Goldbergs” radio & TV shows devastated Mostel. And, it was only with great fortitude that he agreed to work with Jerome Robbins who had “ratted out” many people that Mostel knew, thereby ruining their careers while Robbins prospered.
Mr. Brochu manages to bring Zero Mostel to life without the slightest hint of caricature, portraying Mostel as the quick-witted, cultured artist that he was, full of regret and anger, yes, but extremely pleased and proud of his painting and his acting. Brochu captures Mostel as he muses philosophically about Art and its meanings. From his unruly beard and iconic greasy comb-over to the cutting wisecracks and even the lopsided gait (caused by a traumatic accident), Mr. Brochu is totally Mostel, a giant of the theatre who’s fading reputation I hope this play will redeem. This is an uncanny portrayal of a very flawed man whose anger and talent Mr. Brochu the actor and Mr. Brochu the playwright thoughtfully uncover.
Josh Iacovelli’s comfortably messy studio loft set and Jason Arnold’s lighting helped Zero Hour immensely, as did some atmospheric music.
Piper Laurie—yes, that Piper Laurie, Oscar-nominated actress—kept Zero Hour rolling along, keeping any over-the-top histrionics at bay. A play about a very theatrical actor portrayed by a very theatrical actor could easily have gotten out of hand and Ms. Laurie’s emphasis on the “inner dialogue” of the character tempered the performance admirably.
It would be great if Zero Hour could tour to college towns all over the country so that the younger generation would get an idea about how terrific Zero Mostel was. Mr. Brochu’s Zero complains that he is known only for his exaggerated performance in Mel Brooks’ “The Producers.” Seeing Zero Hour might just persuade younger audiences of Mostel’s deeper virtues.
ZERO HOUR
By Jim Brochu
Directed by Piper Laurie
Theatre at St. Clement’s
423 West 46th St.
New York, NY
Tickets: 212-239-6200 or www.telecharge.com