
Actor Santino Fontana (
above) could be forgiven if his head has grown a bit in
size since the opening of his latest play, Stephen Karam’s
Sons of the
Prophet, currently in a Roundabout production at the Laura Pels Theatre.
Though Fontana made his Broadway debut in 2007 in
Sunday in the Park
with George and has since originated Tony in
Billy Elliot the Musical
and starred as Algernon earlier this year in
The Importance of Being
Earnest, his current work is earning career-making praise.
The New York
Times’ Charles Isherwood, for one, called him “one of the most promising
young actors to emerge in the New York theater in recent years.”
In
Sons of the Prophet, he earns such lauds, tackling a host of
hot-button issues—among them race, health care, journalistic
integrity—with ease and agility. Fontana is Joseph, a 29 year-old,
Pennsylvania native, once a running star whose body is now victim to a
host of peculiar aches and numbness, seemingly without diagnosis. At the
play’s start, his father has just been killed in a car accident, leaving
Joseph saddled with not only his own medical predicament, but caring for
his ailing uncle and younger brother. Throw in his boss, a neurotic,
exiled New York book publisher (strains of Judith Regan abound) and his
genealogy (he is related to the Lebanese author of the best-selling book
The Prophet) that she wishes to exploit, and it’s a miracle Joseph makes
it through the play’s first 30 minutes without a melt-down.
But Fontana knows something about staying sane in the face of life’s
curve balls. Here, the actor discusses the risks of taking on new plays,
the occupational hazards of emotional characters (cab pummeling anyone?)
and why he feels a certain empathy for Joseph’s health issues.
Your character, Joseph, has a veritable shit storm of awful things
thrown at him over the course of the play, from his chronic pain, to his
father’s death and his uncle’s health problems. How would you describe
his handling of all of it?
I think he always plays by the rules. He always chooses what will offend
other people the least. He’s always thinking of other people first
because in a way he’s a protagonist who doesn’t want to be a
protagonist. He doesn’t want to be in any of the situations he’s in so
he wants to leave the least amount of tracks as he gets through it. And
all of the decisions he makes are all about, How can I not make as much
of a stir here?
He’s a protagonist who doesn’t want to be a protagonist, and yet you’re
on stage for the entire show. How do you convey a character who doesn’t
want to be the center of attention, yet physically is in the play?
I had a friend who came and saw it and was like, “Oh it’s so hard, you
just look like you’re suffering so much.” And I was like, “I don’t feel
like I’m suffering at all!” ‘Til maybe the very end. I just feel like
I’m getting things done. And I think Joseph is just thinking like all of
us that if you just get this one thing done it will all be better and it
will all be clear. Although it’s really well written, so just when I
think one thing is taken care of, this happens, oh god. So being on
stage for the whole time, it’s a great gift from a writer to an actor
because a lot of the work is done for me. Because I can’t get off. I
can’t leave! I have to stay on stage. And the next thing that’s thrown
at me, I have to handle that.
Fontana (right) and Lizbeth Mackay in Sons of the Prophet.
Despite the fact that Joseph is trying to be proactive by handling
everything, it’s still some pretty heavy material he works through. Is
that something that weighs on you as an actor, doing that every night?
I feel like, especially doing theater, doing eight shows a week, it’s
going to affect you. I did a show where I played a kind of rebel
political guy [Tony in
Billy Elliot], he was always screaming and I like
pummeled a cab. I was crossing the street and this cab cut me off and I
punched the trunk. This is a couple years ago. And the cabbie stopped
the car, got out and all he said was, “What?” And he got back in the car
and he drove away. And I was like, “Who am I? I’m 5’10! Like I’m gonna’
hurt him?” But in that moment this character had bled over into my life
a little bit. I’m not going home and worrying about the tragedies of
Joseph, not at all, but I do notice that I’m more private than I think I
normally am and I think that’s probably because of Joseph. Because I’m
not as introverted as he is.
I read you received the script for this play while recovering from an
injury you incurred while doing A View from the Bridge and that you
weren’t even able to read it properly because of your injury. Was it
eerily fateful to have this land in your lap while you were
convalescing, given Joseph’s own health issues?
Totally. I mean it was a terrible time. And I couldn’t read for very
long without getting a migraine and the migraines that I was getting, I
had to go to sleep, there was no way to treat it, I couldn’t take
medication. And I got the reading and my agents were like, “You should
do this.” And I hadn’t done a contemporary play in New York and I got to
the end of the play where I have those lines, “I’m not doing good, it’s
been a bad year,” and sort of lost it. And went to the writer and
director afterwards and was like, “Why did you cast me in this? Did you
know what happened?” And they were like, “We didn’t know anything, we
just heard you were a good actor.” So it was a weird experience, but I
have to say, it’s also like what’s in the play, you have terrible things
happen to you, you move on and you’re better off for it.
And how was it doing a contemporary play after so many revivals?
I mean I’m excited just to be in a play where I don’t have an accent,
first of all, because every show I’ve done in New York, I’ve had an
Italian accent, I’ve had a Northern English accent, I’ve had a posh
British accent. With revivals, you’re guaranteed the script is in pretty
good shape because it survived, which is a great thing, but if the
play’s not working, it’s not the writer, it’s you. With a new play, the
big risk is thinking, “Holy shit—is this me or is this just not a good
play?” And you can’t know, it’s just a big chance. Luckily, we’ve got a
great writer and a great director and the play does work.
Photos: Joan Marcus