Exclusive: Patti LuPone For President

Photography by Douglas Friedman
(courtesy of Patti LuPone)

My heart rate is quickening as I approach Patti LuPone’s door at her sprawling home in the bucolic town of Kent, CT mere moments before our scheduled interview is to begin and I have to stop myself from laughing out loud. I mean, this sensation is a new one for me as I never—and I mean n-e-v-e-r—get nervous meeting, interviewing or otherwise interacting with celebrities. After a decades-long magazine career breathing the same oxygen with so, so many of these global superstars, I thought I was immune to the jitters. Yet, here I am, face-to-face with the living legend herself, and I’m more than a little taken aback by my mind’s betrayal. Yes, of course she’s the Queen Of Broadway, the diva to end all divas and all of that, but as I smile at the freshly showered, makeup free, five-foot-two, 75-year-old woman standing in front of me who graciously lets me in to her sanctuary, I lean into my nervousness because the source of my uneasiness suddenly reveals itself: I want Patti LuPone to like me. Yikes.

Settling in her comfy den with direct views of her inviting backyard pool and impressive (and expansive) grounds, LuPone introduces me to her handsome, bemused husband of 36 years, Matthew Johnston (sporting a fetching ponytail), while grabbing the remote to turn off host Nicolle Wallace on MSNBC. Sensing a political kindred spirit, I instantly calm down and I’m back to being me. Finally. [Note: This conversation was held prior to President Biden announcing he wouldn’t seek a second term.] 

Patti LuPone and I commence our dance tenuously, with me asking the star this question: After so much success, so many accolades, so much of… everything, what’s left to do? “Oh, tons!” she shoots back, smiling. “There’s no end to an actor’s life. An actor can act until they fall down dead on that stage. There isn’t an end, which is great. I mean, it keeps us young.”

And if being busy is the secret to keeping young, LuPone will be Benjamin Buttoning for many moons to come. I mean, is it possible that the perpetually critically-acclaimed septuagenarian actor has ever been busier? After having just returned a day ago from her triumphant, month-long tour of Australia with her new concert, A Life In Notes—admitting that she’s still jetlagged—LuPone has again returned to her beloved Broadway at the Booth Theatre to co-star with one of her closest friends, Mia Farrow, in Jen Silverman’s comedy, The Roommate, directed by Jack O’Brien. Concurrently, LuPone has unexpectedly and emphatically joined the Marvel Universe as Lilia Calderu in the Disney+ can’t-miss series, Agatha All Along. It’s…a lot.

Trying to explain the magnitude of LuPone to, say, a millennial not familiar with popular culture prior to Olivia Rodrigo getting her driver’s license is challenging (personally I’m obsessed with Taylor, Olivia, Sabrina, Beyoncé, Ariana, Billie, Chappell, Gaga, Charli and so on). So here’s a waaay condensed bio for one of the most colossally consequential figures in the recorded history of all entertainment. Period.

Patti LuPone was born in North Port, Long Island to Italian-American parents (her mother was Sicilian). Her great-great aunt was famous Italian opera singer Adelina Patti and her late older brother, Robert LuPone, was a Tony-nominated actor who originated the role of Zach, the director in A Chorus Line. She was part of the very first Juilliard’s Drama Division graduating class—along with classmate Kevin Kline—before becoming an OG member of John Houseman’s nationally touring repertory theater troupe, The Acting Company. From there, well, Patti LuPone became Patti LuPone. Diva. Legend. Icon.

In 1988—importantly—in the midst of her career explosion, LuPone got married, and a couple of years later, Johnston and LuPone became parents to son, Josh.

LuPone is a three-time Tony Award winner (a woefully low number given her numerous unforgettable performances) for her portrayals as Joanne in Marianne Elliott’s award-winning production of the Stephen Sondheim George Furth musical Company; Rose in the recent Broadway revival of the Jule Styne-Stephen Sondheim-Arthur Laurents classic Gypsy; and the title role in the original Broadway production of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s and Tim Rice’s Evita. She’s also won two Olivier Awards, two Grammy Awards and was inducted into the American Theater Hall Of Fame. For my money, it simply doesn’t get much cooler than that.

For the better part of six incredible decades, LuPone has captivated audiences in every and all ways—film, television, stage—but, unequivocally, her mastery, her dominance in musical theater is something of a game-changer. LuPone galvanized and elevated musical theater by simply overwhelming the senses when she was on stage. You couldn’t take your eyes off this powerful force of nature with the in-your-face, I-will-not-be-dismissed mezzo-soprano operatic belting vocals for the ages. To watch a performance from our greatest musical theater thespian is to sit enraptured, forever lost in all of her character’s moves. It’s what Bette Davis had on screen. It’s what Barbra Streisand has in concert. It’s what Patti LuPone has on stage: a palpable vulnerability wrapped in turbo-charged fearlessness resulting in an intoxicating experience to behold.

As we continue to get to know one another, I sense an apprehension in some of her answers, so I try a different tact.

I’ve read you share my view that women should run a lot more things than they do, I ask. “Yeah, especially in this dark time that we’re experiencing in the country,” she says. I follow-up. How scared are you about the looming presidential election? “Oh my God, I’m very scared,” she says looking intensely at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this distressed. And I’m going to be on stage, and I don’t know what we’re going to do, because if the election goes the wrong way, Mia [Farrow] and I are on stage until December, and I know that Mia is extremely political. I don’t know what will happen. I guess we’ve been collectively asleep at the wheel for a long time.”

Sticking with politics for a moment longer, I tell the now completely focused and newly energized LuPone my biggest wish for our country. I’d abolish the Electoral College, I say. Why should a vote cast in California not count as much as a vote in South Dakota? “Yes! I completely agree with you,” LuPone says emphatically. “I mean, I don’t think we’ve even been a democracy. I think corporations are running the country and the Supreme Court is just… well…beyond.”

As one can easily surmise, LuPone is a woman with clarity about her opinions and the absolute ability to express said opinions for all to hear. Just ask any theater-goer that displays rude behavior during a LuPone performance on stage (those poor souls famously suffered LuPone’s justified wrath—it’s a fun Google search). Still, I’m curious to know if she sees herself as an optimist or a joyful person who gives herself daily positive affirmations. Her response is classic LuPone.

“Do I say affirmations?” she asks incredulously. “No, I’m a glass half empty girl. I’m a melancholy baby. I’ve always been a melancholy baby. Funny, right? It’s not negativity, exactly. I think it’s just innate. It’s not pressure, external pressure or anything like that at all. It’s just in my DNA.”

Let’s pull this thread a bit, shall we?

So, I ask, is that what was at the root of your very public falling out with Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber after he cast Glenn Close—instead of you—in his hit musical Sunset Boulevard when it headed to Broadway in the middle of your triumphant run in the role in London’s West End? More succinctly, do you feel Webber has paid enough of a price financially or reputationally for what you believe he did to you? I want to hear her answer to this, so I lean in, almost uncomfortably close.

“Well, he hasn’t had a hit in years, right?” she asks sarcastically. [Laughs] “When we were in Australia, Sarah Brightman, his second wife, apparently bombed, and then she wasn’t even showing up for performances. Look, I think he wants—he wanted—or he wants to be Stephen Sondheim. Full stop. He would like the critical success of Stephen Sondheim. I actually did run into Webber when I sang on the Grammys. I think he was being honored or something. I sang, ‘Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina.’”

As our talk turns to broader topics, I wonder out loud if LuPone is a culture vulture when it comes to the small screen. Which streaming shows, if any, does the Broadway legend consider to be binge-worthy? I need to know. 

“I just love Hacks,” she says, once again smiling. “Slow Horses is great. Gary Oldman is outstanding in that show. Oh, and I love Bridgerton and The Bear. I’m pissed off that they cancelled The Great. I love a lot from the historical genre. Let me think, what else today? The Crown—let’s not forget that amazing show. Oh, and Palm Royale! That’s the best. How lucky are they to have Carol Burnett? I mean, to not speak a word! Talk about a comedic legend. I mean, I love the show, and I love her. I also love Kristen Wiig. What a fun, fun show.”

Speaking of a fun show, LuPone’s quasi-shocking entrance into the Marvel Universe has even surprised her, in the best possible way. “How crazy is it that I’m in Agatha All Along?” she says. “I can’t wait. I truly can’t wait. I can talk about the show’s creator, Jac Schaeffer, who comes from the independent film world. And her first project for Marvel was Wanda Vision. If you saw that you know there was a fight at the end between Wanda and Agatha and now Agatha is under a spell and she needs and wants her power back, so she has to put a coven together—and I’m the oldest witch. It’s so great.” [Laughs] 

Taking a moment, I look around and can palpably feel the love and comfort LuPone has for her surroundings, her life with her husband and her beautiful, warm hug of a home. Tell me about Kent, this idyllic little town of yours, I ask her.

“Well, this is where we live, you know what I mean?” she says. “We moved out of New York City in 1987. I actually had been coming to this road since 1968 because my classmate from Juilliard, his parents owned the farmhouse across the street from where we’re sitting now. We’re on the foundation of my friend’s dad’s house. It was so interesting. This is a renovation. We were kids, and we’d come up here all the time. Like a lot of weekends, we’d come up to the farmhouse right across the street, and Marjorie said to us, when we were kids, please help us preserve this land. Cut to 1981 when Jed, my classmate, said, my dad’s selling off the prettiest parcel of land at the top of the hill. So we bought it—in all, it’s ten acres. And here we are. Happy.”

Do people in Kent leave her alone when she’s at the farmers market choosing which tomatoes are best, I ask. “Yes, exactly,” LuPone says. “They know me, but it’s Kent, so there’s no paparazzi in the bushes. And, no, I mean, I once said that Kent was full of farmers and fashion designers. Oscar De La Renta lived up here, so did Bill Blass, Henry Kissinger…so many others. Here’s the thing, my roots are here in Kent, and I love it here. Simple as that.”

For the bigness of her reputation—the dramatic stories about Patti LuPone abound—I found her to be real, measured, caring… nice. What do people get wrong about you, I ask the icon sitting next to me. “Oh, I think the toughness and the brand,” she says quickly. “Show business is brutal. In order to survive, you have to toughen up.” What do people get right about you? I follow-up. “I don’t know, because I don’t know what people think,” she says. “I don’t think that way. I have a small circle of friends, and if they got something right about me, they’d know that I was funny.”

The fact that LuPone is hilarious isn’t a surprise to me, particularly after seeing her jaw-dropping, must-see appearances on Andy Cohen’s hit Bravo late-night show, Watch What Happens Live. I want to know what she thought of those appearances. “Yeah, Andy Cohen just taunts me,” she says. “And I love him! [Laughs] It’s so much fun to do those silly games he plays on the air. It’s a fun, fun show for sure.”

There are two Patti LuPone performances that I want to bring up that may surprise her as favorites of mine for they’re different and they don’t involve a theater stage. You know, Patti, I loved you in Ryan Murphy’s limited series, Hollywood. How was that for you? The actress is once again fully engaged.

“Thank you,” she tells me sweetly. “We thought Hollywood was going to be huge, and it didn’t happen. And it was supposed to have a second season, too. I loved the costumes. I loved that whole period. The veteran cast were so good, right? Holland Taylor and Joe Mantello were excellent. Queen Latifah was also fantastic. The surprise for me was how humble and hardworking Queen Latifah was on set. And she was so gracious backstage when we were all sitting around and, you know, talk about somebody that you think has a tough exterior. But I thought when we were all sitting around, I saw genuine humility, and I became so enamored with her because she seemed like a real good person.”

The second performance was LuPone’s magical collab with the amazingly talented—and deliciously gay—Randy Rainbow on his YouTube channel where they mercilessly (and melodically) skewered Trump. I needed the deets.

“That was pretty good, no?” she says happily. “Could anyone be more talented and not vilified, right? But Randy’s so out there, and you’d think the Far Right would go after him. I think Randy skewers the Far Right perfectly—Oh! My! God!—and yet seems immune to their attacks. Thank God! I mean, Randy Rainbow and his brilliant videos were the escape valve from the pandemic we all needed while we were suffering under the monster’s reign.”

Subtle, Patti LuPone is not.

It’s time for the ever popular name game, I tell the New York native. I want to know her initial thoughts on the following people. The good news is that she was totally game.

Stephen Sondheim. “Genius.” Audra McDonald. “Ummm… [Long pause] Ummm… Complicated.” Ryan Murphy. “I wish he was my Hollywood Svengali.” [Laughs] Mandy Patinkin. “I adore him. He’s my rock. I truly adore him.” Alan Cumming. “He’s so talented. Isn’t he so clever? So clever, so wonderful, so positive, which I love. Christine Baranski. “I love her. We’re quite different, I think. But what we have is the history of both graduating from Julliard, so we have that training. She’s incredibly talented.” Nathan Lane. “He’s just extremely funny and a lovely man.” Harvey Fierstein. “Adore him. I absolutely adore him.” Beyoncé. “Adore her. How could I not?”

Since my allotted time for the interview is now up, I close my notebook and thank LuPone for her time when something genuinely surprising happens. The greatest musical theater performer of this—or arguably any—generation tells me: “Let’s keep talking, Richard. I like you.” I never fully understood the meaning of verklempt until that very moment. Wait! Does Patti LuPone like me? I can die a happy man.

Off the cuff, I continue my thoughtful conversation with this fascinating person I actually want to know a lot more about. So, Patti, I ask, what do you really know about yourself or your career?

“I know that I was born to do what I’m doing,” she says. “I recognized my destiny very early on—never questioned it—and I think I’m the same person I was at five as I am today at 70-something. I was the same kid as I am now, exactly so, and I think that’s surprising to people. What I do certainly feeds my soul, and it’s who I am, but I’m still somebody who’s a citizen of this country, and I go shopping and I do laundry, and I watch the news, and I freak out. I mean, I’m still just a regular person, because what I do for a living isn’t for the fame, it’s my calling. Do you know what I’m saying?”

Oh, we’re really on a roll now. No safety net. Let’s go! I proceed. Were you ever truly upset that you didn’t get a role you just knew you were absolutely perfect for?

“Yeah! A ton of them!” she says. “I, of course, mean no disrespect whatsoever to the actors who played those parts, but there are roles that I would’ve loved to have played, particularly in musicals, that I didn’t get the opportunity to do. And it gets to a point—and I’m sure you’re the same way about this, Richard—I just stopped wanting certain parts because it always led to depression if I didn’t get the role. So, now, I don’t go after roles, and I keep my expectations lower, so I don’t get disappointed. But did I ever imagine I’d be in the Marvel Universe? Did I ever imagine I’d play Nellie Lovett in Sweeney Todd? That my first Sondheim role would be Nellie? The path that I take now is what comes into my orbit is what I’m supposed to do, and so I’m better at it, and it’s less depressing. It also hits you in a different way when you have gratitude about it, because you’re like, oh, my God, I get to expand in my life in this way; instead of thinking I should have done that other thing. It’s all art in the end. I’ve also turned down roles I maybe should have taken, but our profession is 99 percent rejection. It just is, and how do you accept that? How do you absorb that kind of rejection without turning into someone bitter? You just have to keep going, my friend. You just have to keep it moving.”

I then tell Patti LuPone something I’ve been wanting to tell her for 30 years. “If you’ll allow me one observation I’ve held for many decades about you is that I believe Hollywood has never understood you or certainly utilized you properly,” I begin. “It’s such a huge loss for cinema because I believe you could’ve been a Bette Davis for our generation, given the right directors and scripts of course. I’ll go further: I think you had an All About Eve performance in you, and no one in Hollywood understood what they had, so they never gave you the opportunity.” I look up at her after my pointed observation to see what the fallout may be.

“I totally agree with you!” LuPone nearly shouts, clearly delighted. “I completely agree. And it’s not too late! I think that the directors that I would have loved to work with back in the day—Bertolucci, Fellini, Truffaut—could’ve resulted in something very special indeed. So, we’ll see what happens.”

OK, before we leave each other, I tell my new BFF that we should cast our red-hot All About Eve reboot. “I’ll start: You,” I say. “And I’ll also choose the director, Greta Gerwig.”

“Yes! Brilliant,” she says. “OK, let’s definitely get that girl who plays Wednesday, Jenna Ortega. She’d be in there for sure. Oh, and let’s get Taraji P. Henson who’s always amazing and Allison Janney needs a role, too. What a cast! Let’s make this movie, Richard! [Laughs] Anything is possible, right?”

I just spent an entire afternoon with Patti LuPone in her home. And she likes me. Anything is possible indeed.