It’s Elaine’s world, and we get to watch her live it
IN STRITCH’S | The grande dame of B’way divas is the irrepressible center of a documentary about her life, running for one week at the Magnolia Theater.
ARNOLD WAYNE JONES | Life+Style Editor
The last time I interviewed Elaine Stritch, more than a decade ago, the call had to take place at 11 p.m. Eastern, because she was used to getting off the stage around then and was wired. So when we scheduled a day chat last month, I assumed it was out of character and reminded her that she told me she was a night-owl.
“I don’t remember ever saying that — ever,” she insisted with a definitiveness that made me question my own memory. (I checked; I was right.) But the hard-edged definitiveness is probably what made Elaine Stritch a star: When she says something to you, either onstage or on the phone, you believe it. Arguing is pointless.
That’s more or less the message of Elaine Stritch: Just Shoot Me, the documentary about the legendary star of stage (a Tony Award and four more nominations) and television (three Emmys). She might not have the name recognition of some bigger stars, but you can bet if John Travolta mispronounced her name on an Oscarcast, she’d have something to say about it.
The doc, which runs for one week at the Magnolia, tracks a few months in the life of the actress, best known for interpretation of Sondheim (she starred in the original production of Company) and her overall sass which, at age 89, is as tart as ever.
“My hairdresser has just strangled me,” she barks over the phone, then adds with in a voice that you can practically hear smiling, “No, he didn’t — he’s too dear.”
She was actually getting her hair done by this very person when the idea for the documentary first came about. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but was harder work than she imagined.
“I’m glad I did it,” she says of the film, although even that warrants a caveat. “A documentary of anyone’s life, if they’ve had any life at all, would take a couples of years [to shoot], and there’s nothing funny about [filming one]. It’s hard. But I’ve been doing a lot of research about myself [in order to] answer questions from people like you, and I got a lot of wonderful facts and figures.”
When Stritch announced her retirement in 2012, and that she was moving away from New York City and the hotel she had called home for 60 years, it set off a nuclear reaction among theater queens. Most of us had just assumed Stritch was, like Strontium-90, indestructible and would continue on after the next ice age. But she is beginning to feel her years.
“I’m so tired I can hardly tell a story,” she says. “I should get some rest, but I have to get rid of you first.” I apologize for keeping her up. “It’s not your fault,” she offers, quickly followed by, “well, maybe it is your fault. You’ll have to face that fact.”
If that sounds like she considers the movie and the process of promoting it an inconvenience, it’s not how she means it.
“The press are my very favorite people in the world,” she gushes. “I got time to sit still in Birmingham, Mich., and think about the kind of things I have experienced. I’m flattered as all hell [by your interest].”
That interest led at least one theatergoer — me — to fly to New York three years ago for the singular reason of seeing the grande dame on Broadway for what was likely going to be a final time: As the dowager alongside Bernadette Peters in the revival of Sondheim’s A Little Night Music.
“It was luck that we chose each other,” she says of the first-time pairing with Peters. “I said [to the producers] I’d do the show if she did it. I didn’t even know her except from her work, but she’s a major actress, and I was thrilled to death [she agreed]. You [sometimes] get great material and great performer to work with.”
Still, Stritch hasn’t written off one final foray onto the stage.
“I would do a good play — find one and send it to me,” she says.
Really?! Another show? Where does she find the energy?
“I don’t know where I find the energy,” she admits. “Performing is scary. I think we are all more frightened than we admit.”
The only truly frightening things are interviewing Elaine Stritch … and imagining a world without her in it.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition March 7, 2014.