Covid, crutches, surgery: for Christopher Abbott, the show somehow went on

Christopher Abbott was about halfway through a performance of “Danny and the Deep Blue Sea” when he felt something went wrong. The 37-year-old actor was sitting on stage – his character, a brutal truck driver, proposing marriage to a tormented woman, played by Aubrey Plaza – and when he stood up, he couldn't straighten his leg.

That injury in early December – he had a meniscus tear in the bucket handle – was followed in short order by a case of Covid and arthroscopic surgery. And then he returned to the stage, performing on crutches for several weeks, until the end of the eleven-week show on Saturday night.

The play, a two-hander, is a 1984 drama by John Patrick Shanley about two hardened people who meet in a Bronx bar and end up spending a night together. The run, which was staged Off Broadway at the 295-seat Lucille Lortel Theater, was unusually bumpy.

One performance was canceled the day after Abbott's knee injury; another was canceled when Plaza tested positive for Covid while Abbott also had the disease. (Plaza, making her professional stage debut, is particularly popular thanks to “Parks & Recreation” and “De Witte Lotus.” Abbott is best known for indie films, Off Broadway plays and a role in 'Girls,' and his next project is a studio film, the monster movie reboot 'Wolf Man.”)

For four shows, when both actors were out, the producers refunded all pre-sold tickets and then offered $30 seats to anyone who wanted to see the students. And for three shows, while Abbott was recovering from surgery, first-time director Jeff Ward, who is also an actor, played the title role.

But whatever alchemy makes some productions successful was at work in this case. These actors really wanted to play this play. The public was eager to see these actors, and some were willing to pay high prices. (Ticket prices ranged from a low of $59 at the start of the run to a high of $349 at the end, and there were $20 tickets everywhere.)

Last week, the production team of “Danny” – Play Hooky Productions, which includes actor Sam Rockwell along with Mark Berger, as well as Seaview, Sue Wagner and John Johnson – announced that it had recouped its $1.25 million capitalization costs, which is a rare feat, especially for commercial Off Broadway shows during a difficult time for the theater industry.

In conversations in Abbott's fourth-floor apartment in TriBeCa (yes, he somehow manages a fourth-floor walk-up with crutches) and over the phone, he discussed the “Danny” run. These are edited excerpts from the conversations.

How did it feel to get to the end?

It feels like we've played two versions of this piece. From previews to opening night and the first few weeks it grew, and then the injury happened, and then that version grew. It really felt like we were still figuring things out right up until the last show. The piece was only done because of the date we had to close – otherwise it would have evolved even further.

What did you learn?

What the role and the play required, for Aubrey and me, was a sustained excitement. I've never had to maintain that level of intensity. With any job you learn something, and you grow, and all these tropes, but with this piece it was a new level – a new kind of test for myself.

So how did you get hurt?

It was just a totally weird thing. I was sitting on my heels and wanted to get up, and I must have gotten up quickly or strangely. I felt a tap. It felt like my knee was locked. While we were still doing the scene, I tried to straighten it and put weight on it, but it didn't work. So I stumbled around for the rest of that show. Apparently it was still a good show, but I was on another planet. A few minutes later I thought: I have to go to the hospital after this.

Have you thought about ending the show?

Of course I've thought about it. I thought about quitting the show. I thought about just walking off stage. I thought, “Should I just say something to the audience?” But at that point we only had about 30 minutes to play, so I thought I'd just finish it. I was in pain, but it didn't hurt that much if I just kept my leg bent and didn't try to walk on it. Luckily, Aubrey and I had done the show long enough that she knew something was wrong and she dealt with it.

So what did you do?

This happened on a Saturday. We canceled that Sunday show. The director, the choreographers and Aubrey came here, and here in my living room we tried to come up with a new staging.

And medically?

On Monday the doctor said I had to have surgery. It wasn't something I could avoid or postpone. It was very disappointing, but the next day I went in, rehearsed and did a show. My surgery was scheduled for the following Wednesday, so we're doing the show that week – I'm just keeping my leg bent, with a sleeve brace on it, on crutches. And that weekend I also got Covid, and the day after, so did Aubrey.

Have you thought about just ending the run?

No. I had already figured out the staging, how to do it with crutches, so I knew I could go back to that version. To be honest, it's more insecure for me to take a shower than what I do on stage. Or going up and down my stairs. I didn't think I would back out. We've worked really hard on this thing, and there's a sense of ownership that I feel and we all feel that. You'd have to pry it out of my hands. I wouldn't want anyone else to do it.

Of course, when the show starts, your character is coming out of a fight.

Precisely. It works strangely enough. It adds an inherent vulnerability that, for Aubrey's character and mine, levels the playing field in terms of what kind of threat they pose to each other. Physically I'm bigger than Aubrey, and it's a violent game. So it created a more equal danger for both of us.

Do you think the public knows?

At the first show, when I came back, Jeff made an announcement, and it felt distracting, so we stopped telling people. Now people think it's just part of the show.

This production was distinguished in part by a dance intermezzo between the two scenes.

It was elaborate and beautiful, and that's the one thing I miss the most. The dance takes you along beautifully from scene one, which ends with him deciding to go with her, and then scene two is post-coital. The dance is not just meant to represent them having sex, but it is the courtship and the journey, going from these two animals biting and scratching each other, to tenderness. The dance is representative of the people they both would like to be.

There is still a dance interlude, but you usually sit in a chair. Could you convey the same ideas with less mobility?

Yes. It may be less impressive, on a physical level, but the idea still gets across.

So let's back up. What attracted you to 'Danny'?

It's one of those plays in acting classes that everyone does. I'd never seen a production of it, but I'd worked on it before and I'd seen people work on it. I hadn't really thought about it for a while, until Jeff brought it to my attention – he brought me a copy, and I reread it, and I thought, “This could be my swan song, in terms of the angry young man.” thing, just considering my age and where I am now. And it's a great one to do that with. I just love the play. It's poetic, but also very real. And it's just fun, beautiful dialogue to chew on.

You seem to be drawn to roles with anger.

This is a business where work begets work, so when you do one thing, and people see you do that thing, they think of you when there's a pathos that's similar in a character. But I find beauty in characters who have difficulty speaking. I don't mean stupid, but they have trouble expressing emotions, so things come out very guttural – it doesn't come from the brain, but more from the gut and more from the heart. I'm attracted to things like that; I feel like I understand.

What is it like to harbor so much fear, night after night?

You let it go after the show. But it's a level of emotion that I can't do in my daily life. It's tiring, but I think it's good. Just pushing your body through those emotional peaks is not something we do often enough when everyone is very self-aware and self-reflective and has an answer to everything. There's something very old-fashioned about the way these characters express themselves: it's on their sleeve, and they don't hold anything back, and that's refreshing to do.

What do you think of the ticket prices? There has been a lot of discussion about this across the industry, and for this one the numbers have gotten quite high.

I'm not excited about it. I don't pretend to know anything about it, but I assume there must be certain prizes for investors to make their money back. I'm not sure why it's so expensive to do a play. If I ever make something, I'll look into it further. But of course I wish the prices were cheaper.

What's next?

I need to get my leg better for the next job. I'll continue to see my physiotherapist and just work on it and just get better so I can do the next job, which is in New Zealand in March – 'Wolf Man'.

Are you going to make theater again?
Naturally.