True Grit: Jeffrey Wright

There's a certain breed of actor that makes the most of every role, inhabits every bit of the characters he plays, and makes every film he's in worth seeing simply by the power of his presence. Jeffrey Wright is one of those actors

For a guy who's won Tony awards and Golden Globes, and the respect of nearly everyone he's worked with, Jeffrey Wright doesn't think so highly of actors these days. He suspects there might be "an overvaluation of the organism," which he attributes to the money they make and the fame they enjoy. But Wright, who stars in John Guare's A Free Man of Color debuting on Broadway this month, has surprising thoughts on lots of things—even his own employment.

As you start a new project, what do you get most anxious about?

I generally go into the rehearsal period expecting to be fired at some point. Maybe that's my particular neurosis. 95 percent of the time I think the a is going to fall at some point and in some cases it probably works to my advantage. I guess it's about survival at some level rather than something more creative or interesting.

Well, have you ever been fired?


Then how do you measure yourself as an actor?

I'm pretty flat in the celebrity department and there's such an overvaluation of that stuff now that I wonder if I should have paid more attention. At the same time I don't regret having not done more of that. I do think that acting is very simple. For me it really is just creating characters in the way that a lawyer would create a document or a carpenter would create a chair. That's the point. All of the other things that come with it are somewhat mysterious to me.

Like what?

Like all the self-promotional aspects of it. I think, I hope, I'm trying to create a character more than I'm trying to promote myself. If that says something about me as an actor or lends some kind of credibility to my work that's great but I don't think there's a great deal of respect for actors. And maybe there shouldn't be. Because as I said there's an overvaluation of the organism. I think there's far more respect, or some variation of that for actors because of their celebrity or because of the money they make. But maybe acting, in and of itself, is not so important either.

What do you mean?

At the end of the day, how many jobs are you creating? How many families are you supporting? I don't know. I've gained a good deal more respect than I had for other types of work. At times I tend to think I overplay to myself how significant an actor could or should be within society.

How so?

Early in my career, when I was involved with Angels in America, within the circumstances the play was being performed, I thought there was significance to it but that was a rare experience. It was a brilliantly constructed play that meshed with very critical times and there was the sense that we were using our work to be a part of, and to help invoke needed change in outlook. But I do wonder if whether, not in that case because it was real work from a physical, emotional, and intellectual standpoint. But I do wonder if artists, generally, if we tend to leave the hard work to other people, who are more critical to the outcome. If we're part of a piece that's meaningful we present this message and then kind of step away and insist that other people take up the banner and do the work that affects the real change. There was an insistence on legislative change, on social change, and I guess it's down to the individual actor to pursue those aims beyond the screen or stage, but I do caution myself against being too sanctimonious because at the end of the day, we're only telling stories.

What was the last performance of yours that you were truly happy with?

Top Dog, Under Dog in London. When we did it on Broadway I was also shooting Angels in America during the day and my son was about eighteen months old, I guess. And we were renovating our house. So there were some nights that were realized and some nights when I couldn't find the energy. It had more to do with that fact that we were shooting a seven hour movie during the day. When we did it in London I had the opportunity to be more focused and it was in a fantastic theater that helped shape the play and the performances.

What about movies?

Angels in America was probably the last movie performance I was satisfied with. That came after doing the play for a year and a half on Broadway. The next play will give me a new opportunity of attack, a renewed attack on it. It's called Free Man of Color. John Guare's new play. It's set in New Orleans and also, largely in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, around the time of the Louisiana Purchase. George Wolfe commissioned it while still at the Public Theater so we've been engaged in this story for six or seven years now. Our interest precedes the earthquake and hurricane Katrina, but is now infused with an even greater relevance because of those events. It's going to be rich. But it means I have to get myself back into fighting condition. That's my burden.

You mean getting your acting muscles in shape?

I'm not so concerned about the acting muscles as I am the actual muscles, getting my body back to a more sinewy place.