Richard Chamberlain’s career has run the gamut — from hit
Broadway revivals like My Fair Lady and The Sound of
Music to roles on The Drew Carey Show and even
Nip/Tuck. He even had a brief career as a pop singer in the ’60s
when his role as the title character in the TV series Dr.
Kildare made him a teen heartthrob. But he’s best known for parts
in dramatic films and TV miniseries, like Centennial, Shogun, The
Thornbirds and the 1988 version of The Bourne Identity. Lately, he’s been standing in as King Arthur in a touring production of
Spamalot, at PlayhouseSquare’s Palace Theatre through
Sunday.
“It’s such a relief,” says Chamberlain. “All that heavy stuff is
really hard work, and this is a lot of fun. It’s about 10 times funnier
than the movie.”
Chamberlain seems to thrive on a steady diet of change. He says he
learned his comic chops from Peter Sellers.
“I loved the Pink Panther movies, but I didn’t fully
understand what made him so brilliantly funny until I saw the remakes
by Steve Martin —who I love, but he makes the fatal mistake of
knowing he’s funny. It was a brilliant choice on Peter Sellers’ part
not to let on. The more seriously you take it, the funnier it is to
everyone else. You have to keep a straight face. In Spamalot, wherever possible, I try to take situations as seriously as I can
manage.”
After performances in Cleveland, Chamberlain will head back home to
Hawaii, where he looks forward to getting back into his painting
studio. In college, Chamberlain wanted to be an artist, but his acting
career took off, and art took a back seat. He paints in a dozen styles
— as diverse as the musicals, TV dramas and comedies in which
he’s acted. There are stylized floral still lifes, landscapes, nudes,
word collages and more, which portray an artist willing to try
anything.
“If you had seen it in a show, you wouldn’t believe one person did
all those different things,” he says.
But if his performing career has variety in common with his
painting, he also sees painting as a place where he’s in control of
everything. “The big difference — and it’s something I love about
each medium — is that acting is so communal, a co-creation,” he
says. “But painting is so individual. When you’re alone with your
canvas, you’re the boss.”
This article appears in Apr 1-7, 2009.