 For more than three decades, John Billingsley has been one of television's most recognisable character actors. Best known to Star Trek fans as the endlessly curious Dr Phlox in Star Trek: Enterprise, his career has also spanned acclaimed series including True Blood, 24, The West Wing, Grey's Anatomy, The Orville, NCIS and CSI, alongside an extensive body of film and theatre work. Despite a career largely dominated by film and television in recent years, this summer Billingsley is returning to his theatrical roots with 44 Minutes, a tense psychological thriller making its debut at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Written by 17-year-old playwright Lev Steinberg, the production brings together an impressive ensemble of performers from across film, television and genre entertainment, including Billingsley, Dorian Missick (Better Call Saul, Luke Cage), Christopher Ryan (American Horror Story) and Matthew Petrick (The Florida Project). Together, they tell a tense, real-time story that unfolds over just 44 minutes, forcing four strangers trapped in a cage to confront impossible moral choices as they desperately search for answers. It's a premise Billingsley refuses to spoil. "I want to be very careful because I think a lot of the play rests on the surprises it has to offer," he says. "What happens when four men who do not seem to know each other realise that they have been imprisoned in a cage? They have to figure out what the hell happened and why they're there. The entire story takes place in forty-four minutes. Anything I say beyond that, I feel like I'd be giving too much away." For Billingsley, however, signing on wasn't simply about the script. It was the combination of timing, place and purpose that made the project impossible to resist. "I'm primarily a film and television actor at this stage in my career, but for many years I was a stage actor," he explains. "There haven't been that many opportunities for me to do theatre in Los Angeles, either because I've been involved in other things or because I just wasn't very attracted to what was being offered." The invitation came from a producer, whom Billingsley had worked with years earlier. "He called me and asked if I'd be interested in appearing in a forty- or fifty-minute play that would go to Edinburgh." "One, the timing was right. I was free during this period. Two, it rehearsed in New York, and I love New York. I haven't had a chance to spend much time here recently. Three, it's always been a wish of mine to perform at the Edinburgh Festival." Then came another surprise. "When I read it, I thought, 'Well, this is very interesting and provocative.' Then I found out it was written by a seventeen-year-old boy." "That was really the final thing I needed to know because I love the idea of helping play a role in the development of young playwrights. I think that's a lot of what we want to do as people in the arts—we want to feel like we're able to give something back." The production's stripped-back nature was equally appealing. "I was told that the director we'd be working with... was very excited about creating something intimate. Not low stakes, but... not elaborate. No huge production, no giant spectacle. I come from a background where I don't really want to do big-budget stuff anymore."  Although rehearsals had only recently begun when we spoke, Billingsley was already impressed by Steinberg's maturity and openness. "He's there at the table, and he and the director are very open and eager to get our input. They're still working on the play, which I love. The play we've started with won't be the play we eventually perform, and that's always exciting to me. There's a genuine exploration happening with the writer present. Right from the start, he's obviously extremely articulate, smart and thoughtful." One conversation particularly stayed with him. "He said something the other day that I really appreciated. Paraphrasing, he said that he feels lonely because most of his peers aren't interested in art or artists. I thought how wonderful it is that he gets the opportunity to spend time with people who've devoted their lives to the arts at this stage in his development." Rather than positioning himself as the experienced mentor in the room, Billingsley says the experience has become something richer. "He's seventeen, one of the other actors is twenty-four, our director is just turning thirty, another actor is forty-two, another is fifty-one, and I'm sixty-six." "I'm loving the whole generational conversation. We're having a lot of discussions about what it means to think, feel and exist at all these different stages of life." Although the cast were only beginning to know one another, Billingsley immediately sensed something special developing. "You know almost immediately in rehearsal how willing people are to be vulnerable when they tell their stories. You see how willing they are to talk about the way the play is affecting them. You see how willing they are to listen and play together." "There are always moments when you're beginning a project and a little voice in your head says, 'Uh-oh... I don't think all the collaborators are going to be on the same page.' This isn't one of those times." "I've got nothing but joy in my heart already. I have such a strong feeling that I'm really thrilled to be spending the next two months of my life with these people."  For Billingsley, performing at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe has long been an ambition. His connection actually stretches back years through his wife, Bonita Friedericy, who once performed at the festival. "First of all, I love Edinburgh. I've been there a number of times and it's a wonderful city. I'd always wanted to see what happens when an entire city becomes devoted to actors and theatre. That's something every actor should want to experience." What particularly appeals is the freedom the Fringe offers. "This doesn't carry the pressures you might feel if you were doing a production with millions of dollars behind it. There aren't investors biting their fingernails wondering whether people will like the out-of-town try-outs, whether it'll go to New York, how long it'll run, or what The New York Times is going to say." Instead, he sees 44 Minutes as an opportunity for a young writer to grow. "This is simply a chance for a young playwright to experience a proper rehearsal process and twenty-something performances in front of different audiences." As for himself? "I'm sixty-six. My career doesn't hinge on this. It doesn't really matter to me whether people love it or don't. I hope they do, for his sake. I'm committed to doing the work, but I don't feel like I need to lose sleep over the outcome. There was a little part of me wondering, 'Does that stage muscle still work?' After just a couple of days in rehearsal, though, it was like, 'Yeah. This is what I did my whole life.'" If anything, returning to rehearsal has reminded Billingsley why he fell in love with theatre in the first place. "When you anticipate going back to theatre, you remember the things you didn't enjoy. You think about the build-up during the day and that feeling of the curtain hanging over you like the Sword of Damocles. 'Oh my God, it's five o'clock.'" "Being back in rehearsal has reminded me of something else. 'Oh... I used to love this.' And I really am enjoying myself." Away from his own performances, he plans to embrace everything the Fringe has to offer. "We're performing at nine o'clock every evening. That means I've got the entire day until about seven to see theatre... your own performance is only about an hour. The rest of the time you can watch as much theatre as you can fit in." He laughs that the only real challenge might be adjusting his sleeping habits. "The thing about being sixty-six is that your body clock starts working a little differently. At nine o'clock I'm usually drinking my hot milk and getting ready for bed. But I'll adjust my internal clock."  Without revealing too much about 44 Minutes, Billingsley hopes audiences leave questioning their own relationship with violence.
"What I hope audiences leave with is a question about what it means to be moved by violence. Where does it exist within us to say, 'Yes, I want to give in to an impulse towards violence'? And where does it exist within us to say, 'No, I don't?' Sometimes that impulse—to anger or violence—is understandable, perhaps even justifiable." The production also arrives during a particularly emotional period in his personal life, making the opportunity to return to the stage even more meaningful. "It's a challenging time in my personal life. My wife's family is going through a lot. My ninety-one-year-old mother-in-law still lives at home and has dementia. My brother-in-law suffered a massive stroke some years ago. So my wife has a lot on her plate." Travelling to Scotland wasn't an easy decision. "We usually travel together, but this is the first thing I've done in a long time where I said, 'Honey, I know this is going to be difficult, but I'd really like to go away and have this experience.' She's a wonderful person, and she said, 'Yes. Go.'" Already, he says, the experience has justified that decision. "Returning to the stage has already come to mean a great deal to me." "I think this is going to be something very pure. So much of Hollywood—and even theatre—is about money, profit, reviews, success and hoping something changes your life. I love the fact that this is a pure, dear, sweet, small thing." And perhaps that's exactly why he's so excited to be part of the world's biggest arts festival. *"I love the idea that every show is deeply important to the people making it, but the event itself is so much bigger than any individual production. It makes you feel wonderfully humble. I'm just one tiny piece of this incredible mosaic. And it takes all the pressure off needing it to be anything other than joyful." Lee Hutchison 44 Minutes (August 6-30th excluding 17 and 24th) at Front Room at Assembly @ St Andrew Square Book tickets here > www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/44-minutes |
|
