Well, the May issue of Esquire turned out to be a disappointment, at least as far as the cover was concerned. I knew several months ago that they were going to be doing a story on Bradley Whitford, because one of my best friends, photographer Chris Buck, had been hired to shoot the photos for it. I also knew that Whitford's brother was writing the profile, eventually titled "The Secret Life of an Actor," and I had vainly hoped that they would feature Brad's charming mug on the cover. Little did I realize that Esquire is apparently obliged not only to festoon every cover with some nubile starlet or other, but also to feature Charlize Theron thereupon no less than twice a year. (The article on Brad is relegated to the headline, "That Guy from The West Wing.") On the May cover, Theron and her right nipple appear wrapped in a strapless chiffon-y thing of a colour that tones with her alabaster skin, so that, at a cursory glance, she appears to be naked, although, of course, she's not. (I understand that the contractual difficulties with her left nipple have since been resolved and that you can expect a full complement of nipplage in her appearance.) Her hair is curled and frizzed to within an inch of its life, obscuring her right eye. As far as I can tell, they're going for a sort of gauzy late-1920s/early 1930s-ish look. The silly/scary photos of Theron inside accompany one of the thinnest excuses for an article I've ever read, even if the only thing I'd ever read were celebrity puff pieces. But The Man from F.U.N.K.L.E. has already addressed that idiotic article more than adequately, so I'll move on to the reason you're all here, which is to lap up more information about Joshua, Josh, Josh...I mean, "Bradley Whitford."
The article is written by Brad's brother David Whitford. I can't imagine being able to write very objectively at all about any of my siblings, never mind if said sibling were a celebrity. (I wonder if David was at all tempted to provide the literary equivalent of a wedgie?) In fact, David Whitford does quite a good job of moving smoothly between the unavoidable familial intimacy and the necessary journalistic distance. He admits right off that while Brad makes about fourteen times as much money as he does (which sounds good, although the pay for writing being what it is, I don't know if I'm all that impressed with that...but perhaps the author does extremely well for himself), he's never seriously envied Brad the fame, the freebies, the glamour, and the glory. But it turns out Brad loves his work so much, and gets such a bang out of what he does, that he describes it in this way: "It always feels like batting practice felt to me...I always wanted more." And his brother envies him that. Can't blame him; loving what you do to put food on the table is easily one of life's greatest blessings.
David Whitford goes on to say that when he went to the studio in January to interview Brad, he hadn't seen him, except on television, for about nine months, and that it was "unexpectedly awkward" at first. He thought that Brad's hair looked redder and that his head looked bigger. He and Brad are two and half years apart; they grew up in a Quaker household. Brad is the youngest of five children (which doesn't surprise me, as a big adherent to ideas about birth order; Brad manifests what I think of as classic "youngest child" energy.) Brad was always a "cutup" and a "ham," and somehow that amazes no one who's watched Brad's many performances, but most especially those who've come to love him in the role of Josh Lyman, Deputy Chief of Staff. Whitford's equally gifted at comedy and drama, but he does seem unusually ready to provide a smirk and an offhand remark at any given moment.
David went to the Golden Globes with Brad and his wife, actor and Malcolm in the Middle star Jane Kaczmarek. He mentions that Brad held his (then) fourteen-month-old son George (named after Brad's and David's late father), and tells the reader that Brad has "always been a hugger. He doesn't know this, but as a young man in college, he once hugged my mother so tightly he broke one of her ribs." I bet Brad was probably somewhat alarmed to learn this from the article. Ma Whitford is quoted as saying, "I didn't want to mention it. It was such fun to have him do it." Still, you might want to go easy on baby George, there, Brad. They also have a three-year-old daughter named Frances. The main photograph accompanying the article is of Whitford holding a naked George, but the baby's face is turned toward Whitford, so he's not identifiable. (Many celebrities are rightly concerned about keeping their children out of the spotlight; I'm sure Whitford and Kaczmarek are no exceptions.) The baby's pale skin contrasts strongly with Brad's black clothing, emphasizing his embrace of his son. Brad is revealing the beginning of a smile; it's a sweet, appealing photo of a man who looks like he might know just how fortunate he is.
Other photos include a very cute childhood picture of Brad at two and a half, a photo from a high-school production of Annie Get Your Gun, and stills from a number of Brad's better-known films. There are also a couple more of Chris's shots, both of Brad with John Spencer. In one, Brad's clowning around with Spencer, putting his leg way up on Spencer's back while holding his own foot; Brad looks pretty agile. The caption claims he's practicing his yoga. I asked Chris for some gossip or tidbits about the actors, and pressed him for any information about Martin Sheen (but Sheen was not on the set when Chris was shooting, sadly). Chris described Brad as very relaxed, spontaneous, giving, and "connected in the moment." He also gave me a few bits for all you John Spencer fans: Chris said Spencer talks a "blue streak" and that once he got going, he couldn't stop: "He was full of funny stories." He also noticed that Spencer really made an effort to come over and say hello. Apparently Spencer's just the kind of salt-of-the-earth guy I take him for.
The author goes on to describe the acting backgrounds of both Jane and Brad, who met in New York in 1989. Brad is a graduate of Juilliard, and Jane's a Yalie. They did reasonably well for themselves in theatre and film, but had shied away from television somewhat. Television, however, turned out to be the jackpot for both of them: in 1999, they each landed starring roles in shows that went on to enjoy enormous success, a situation the author describes as "simultaneous career orgasm." David Whitford also describes the pandemonium as their limousine arrived at the Golden Globes, and subtly conveys Brad's comfort with the high profile he now enjoys, accepting greetings and kudos from the likes of Jack Lemmon, Julia Roberts, and Tom Hanks. Alas, as most fans already know, Brad lost the Golden Globe award to Robert Downey Jr. (and Jane lost to Sarah Jessica Parker). But it sounds like David, Brad, and Jane went off and enjoyed themselves at the post-award parties all the same.
Moving along to the meat of the article, David gets his brother talking about acting. Brad believes that "actors are basically alcoholics waiting to happen" because he feels that if one is the sort of person who thinks, upon seeing a play or film, "I should be [up] there," such a person is "in the most assertive, extroverted .022 percent of the population. That's a very assertive chord in your personality. Then the business renders you totally passive. And there is no resolution to assertive people in a passive position. It's corrosive. There's no resolution to that." The author reminds us that only about three percent of the one hundred thousand Screen Actors Guild members earn even $100,000 a year as actors. Brad has worked very steadily since graduating. One of his first juicy roles was a part in Sam Shepard's Curse of the Starving Class, a role which necessitated his appearance onstage "every night dazed, wet, and naked with a sacrificial lamb in his arms." For some nearly three hundred shows. (On The Rosie O'Donnell Show, Brad gleefully told an anecdote that involved his writing "Hi" somewhere on his nether regions, in order to mess with the composure of an actor who had to be standing behind him when he bent over, naked and wet. Such a cutup.)
David also offers up an amusing little tidbit from Richard Schiff, who's known Brad for a couple of decades. Schiff saw Curse of the Starving Class: "I saw his naked butt. He was really good. My ex-wife went twice, which got me really upset. I remember her saying, 'He's just too good to be true. He's good-looking and he's really nice and sweet and he's talented. He has to be gay, right?'" I would love to know who Richard Schiff's ex-wife is; I was stunned enough to realize that he's currently with Sheila Kelley, someone I just did not imagine to be his type. (Because I would know a lot about that.) But it sounds like she'll have to be made the honorary founder of the "harem" of women who are falling over themselves to jump on the Brad-is-sexy bandwagon.
The author covers some of the highlights of his brother's career on stage and screen -- much of which you can read about here -- and notes that Brad began to be typecast as "yuppie scum." About this, Brad says, "If you do an asshole well, you will be an asshole. When you get into features, the best parts are taken, and what's left are the assholes. Every movie needs a villain. It used to be that villains were Nazis. Now villains are white guys with receding hairlines and jobs, and that was something I could do." Fortunately for us, Aaron Sorkin was able to see past the typecasting.
David suggested renting Billy Madison, but Brad didn't want to; he's never seen it and has no desire to see it. ["Hey! We own that video. It's funny!" -- Wing Chun] David reveals that Brad has not seen a number of things in which he's appeared, including "many episodes of The West Wing." (Wonder if he's watched "Noel"?) David ascribes this in part to Brad's inability to get over the "creepiness of seeing himself on film." Brad claims, "I'm not used to seeing myself from behind. It's really odd to see objectively what that looks like. It can be totally unnerving." I think I hear a not-so-quiet murmur of estrogen-fueled agreement about the "unnerving" part, but it could be my imagination. David adds, though, that Brad's concerned about falling into what he calls a "shame spiral," and I hope he got that phrase from the "Do what you feel" episode of The Simpsons, because that's the only place I've ever heard it, although it could easily be common self-help jargon for all I know. Brad was apparently recognized by a homeless man on the streets of New York: "I know you. You play the asshole in movies." Brad gave the guy some money (aw) but rushed home and told his agent, "You have to do something. People without VCRs -- people without heating -- are typecasting me!" That is kind of pathetic.
In 1990, events transpired that would eventually culminate in Brad's becoming one of the stars of The West Wing: he was cast in the Broadway version of Aaron Sorkin's A Few Good Men. He first played the Marine prosecutor, but went on to replace Timothy Busfield in the lead role when Busfield returned to whine through another season of thirtysomething. Whitford and Sorkin would socialize occasionally. Sorkin states, "I would always think to myself, My God, why isn't anyone using Brad Whitford for something big?" When Sorkin was in New York in the fall of 1997, Brad was performing in a play called Three Days of Rain in Manhattan. Sorkin was there working on the pilot for Sports Night, and explains that as soon as he finished the script, he got himself to a Kinko's to print it out, and then hustled over to the stage door of the theatre where Brad was working, because he wanted Brad to read it. Sorkin wanted Brad to star as one of the anchors, and Brad did love the script. But he thought it was a long shot, and worried that Sorkin would eventually hand off writing duties to a team of writers and move along to some other glorious project. Brad also already a bird in the hand: a role in a new sitcom directed by television veteran Jim Burrows. Brad passed on Sports Night. Well, you can probably guess the outcome from here, even if you haven't followed either fellow's career closely: Sports Night was a critical success, and you've probably never heard of The Secret Lives of Men. ["I've heard of it, but I never watched it. Peter Gallagher -- another actor who could use a Sorkin -- was also in it." -- Wing Chun]
When The Secret Lives of Men was cancelled, Sorkin called Brad with condolences and a proposal: to play the role of Josh Lyman on his new one-hour drama. Sorkin immediately sent Brad the script, and David describes the character quite accurately: "Josh was charming, caustic, explosive, sexy, capable of moral outrage, and a comic to boot -- an immensely appealing character and one with whom Brad felt an immediate kinship. In fact, Sorkin says now, he wrote Josh with Brad in mind." That much seems very clear. Sorkin: "I tried to throw it in his strike zone." And Sorkin succeeded; Brad wanted the part very desperately. But he still had to audition, and he prepared as if his life depended on it. Naturally, he knew his lines inside out, but he rehearsed in various states of mind to be prepared for anything, and "anticipated being very uncomfortable in the room so [he] would be comfortable." He auditioned for John Levey, the Warner Brothers casting director, as well as Sorkin and executive producer Thomas Schlamme. Both Schlamme and Levey knew Whitford from his compelling turn as Sean O'Brien, a father-to-be whose wife dies during childbirth in the "Love's Labors Lost" episode of ER. The author indicates that Schlamme and Levey weren't quite as chuffed about Whitford as Sorkin was; he was "just another name on the list." Whitford blew them away, cleverly using every audition trick he had gleaned in his many years of experience. David reports that Brad's three-man audience laughed out loud, and that Sorkin left him a message at home: "You hit it out of the park."
But then, for what must have seemed an interminable number of weeks, Brad didn't hear a thing. Some of you will no doubt be surprised, if not outraged, to hear that Levey didn't think Brad had sufficient sex appeal to play a leading man on a network TV show. Some of you may even unkindly suggest that Levey adjust his medication. And Schlamme, for his part, was concerned about whether Brad had "the depth to carry off scenes he knew Sorkin would eventually have to write if The West Wing were ever going to be more than a simple romantic comedy." (Given this original concern, Schlamme must be very pleased indeed with episodes such as "Noel.") Brad, naturally, was unaware of these issues, and "reluctantly" agreed to audition again, this time for Levey and producer John Wells, whom David describes as "arguably the most powerful producer in television." And this time, he was to audition with Moira Kelly, who played Mandy "Amandeleine" Hampton in the first season of The West Wing. Now, hang on, kids, because it gets a little scary right about now, and then a little scarier, and I know some of you may be rather perturbed. But it all comes out okay. You know it does. Still, I'll understand if you need to get your blankies. The audition with Kelly did not go well, and afterward, Levey made it clear to Brad's agent that it was "not going to happen for Brad." Lord, as if we didn't have enough reasons to hate the character of Mandy! It boggles the mind that a lack of chemistry with Moira/Mandy could have scuttled this whole deal. ["No kidding; it's not like she's a TV brand name." -- Wing Chun]
Brad was probably getting pretty annoyed at this point, especially since Fox was knocking on his door and waving around a lot more money than he would get for The West Wing to entice him toward a role on an unspecified hour-long drama. ["Good for Brad to be classy and not say what it was. I hate it when I read actors' profiles and they're all bragging about parts they could have had, but declined to give to other (implied: lesser) actors." -- Wing Chun] Brad: "And if I wanted to do it, I could have done it. None of this bullshit of jumping through Tommy fucking Schlamme's hoops, you know? At this point, I'm furious at him. It's like, I know, I know, I know I can play this role! You feel like a crazy person in an asylum trying to convince the orderly that you're sane. 'I know this is ridiculous because I'm an actor trying to get a part, and of course, this part would be great for me, but seriously, I am really built for this!'" Suddenly, the week before The West Wing went into production, they called and offered him the part of...Sam. Sam? Hoo boy. No, no, no.
Brad knew it was wrong, so very wrong. He resorted to calling Aaron, not knowing whether he would come off as "articulate or pathetic," but probably not much caring at that point, either. He told him, "Aaron, I just feel this very strongly. This isn't about me wanting a job. This is the only time in my life I will play this card. I am this guy; I am not the other guy." Damn straight. Aaron told him not to worry about what he did in the pilot. Brad was insistent: "No, no, no. There is a difference. There is a difference starting with the pilot. Josh isn't sexual-high-jinks boy. Josh is You know what? I had to tell the fucking Christian Right off! Because it's ridiculous! And I lost control!" According to the author, "Sorkin was impressed," and felt that Brad and Josh really were a "good marriage."
David Whitford says that, over the weekend, Rob Lowe got "first billing" and "more money than anyone else in the cast except Martin Sheen." The author says that this "meant Lowe could play Sam." I'm not sure exactly how or why that follows, but I'm just happy that that's what Lowe seems to have wanted. (I wonder whether Lowe is still happy with the choice he made?) Brad goes on to recount that, during the first read-through with Rob playing Sam, he began to think that Lowe had the much better part in the pilot, getting the "big laughs" with the story line about accidentally sleeping with a hooker, but obviously realized ultimately that he was right all along: "I'm so happy it's this part." See? That was a little scary, but I promised you a happy ending.
The author closes the article by describing a read-through of the thirty-seventh script (which should be "Ellie," if I can count, and I think I can) at which Sorkin has "taken another whack." Apparently, the scripts are about half an inch thick, clocking in at around ten thousand words, including stage directions. (I note with amusement that my recaps tend to be around that length, or even longer.) David gives us a tantalizing glimpse of the process: "They read at hyperspeed, stumbling occasionally (who knew that President Bartlet wouldn't know how to pronounce Yemen?), laughing like an audience at their own jokes, then snapping back into character, managing -- without lights, music, props or even sitting up straight -- to make the story so compelling that when it's over, they can't help themselves, they applaud: for Sorkin, I'm sure that's the idea, but I think also for themselves." I, for one, would love to watch a read-through with this cast and this show. I'm sure I'm not alone.
David has a few last anecdotes to impart:
- Brad had apparently dubbed the show's hairstylist, Jeffrey Sacino, "The Hair Fairy." He blurted this out one day to the "horror" of all and sundry, except for Jeffrey.
- David mentions that later, Martin Sheen stops by Brad's trailer to "commiserate with a kindred soul" about Dubya's inauguration the following day. David reminds us that both Whitford and Sheen stumped for Gore, although I think Brad's sympathies and Sheen's politics are fairly well-known by now. (Perhaps this accounts for some of the verve and chemistry between Jed and Josh on the show.) David describes Sheen's irritation: "They'll be playing 'Hail to the Thief'!" (Hee! See, Brad's swell and all, but my heart belongs to POTUS/Sheen.)
- David claims his brother greets "nearly every woman he meets in the course of his day, cast or crew, with a kiss on the lips." (I'm wondering how Jane feels about that. I know many readers of this factoid will be swooning at the thought.)
The author winds up on a nice brotherly note with a mixture of respect, awe, and fascination for Brad and his considerable achievements. For someone who once told an inquisitive five-year-old that what he does when not acting is "drive around L.A. and...try to make people like [him]," Brad seems to have succeeded on all levels.