Presque Isle High School graduate - and former potato picker - John Cariani is still in love with Aroostook County, although his current home turf is New York City and a great apartment uptown on one of those streets with a name made of numbers.
Growing up in Presque Isle, playing in the band, playing tennis or hockey, or just plain playing, Cariani was not a drama junkie and never saw himself as an actor, but here he is with credits like Law and Order, where he has a recurring role as Julian Beck, the very eager, and very funny, forensics guy. He's appeared in Six Degrees, Ed, and others, and made a number of pilots that didn't get picked up. He's currently out in LA auditioning like crazy. And that's only his West Coast work. He has another whole life as a stage actor, and one as a playwright.
In 2004, he received the Outer Circle Critics Award for Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical for his work in Fiddler on the Roof. He was also nominated for a Tony for the same performance.
His first play, Almost, Maine, is a smart romantic comedy turned a bit - quite a bit - on its ear. After being workshopped on Cape Cod, it hit the road: Portland, New York, and Bangor's Penobscot Theatre last year, and now it's being performed all over the country. And that's all over, including a current run in Shreveport, Louisiana!
Cul-de-sac, Cariani's second play, has been described as a dark twin to Almost, Maine, a suburban nightmare about three couples who are having difficulties with children, as in, one couple realizes they forgot to have their baby. With snippets of paper all covered with notes and dialogue stuffed in wooden shelves, he's working at accumulating the pieces of his next two, as yet unnamed, works, between treks to the West Coast. And wherever he goes, whenever possible, he has his copy of the Presque Isle Star Herald forwarded to him each week.
So was it a relatively quiet life in Presque Isle?
No, it was very busy, all church- and school-centered. I was a town kid, and I was amazed - I still am - at everything people from Maine knew [he moved to Maine when he was eight] about the land, about where we were, about everything. And the schools were amazing. We could do anything, everything. How we got away with doing musicals like Cabaret, I'll never know. We were fortunate. I was fortunate.
Do you remember your first play?
Calamity Jane, under Glenna Smith and Dan Ladner [at Presque Isle High School] - it was their last year. Anyway, they needed guys. They always need guys in high school plays. I was the ticket taker. A little tiny part, but I remember making everybody laugh. And that was it - well, not quite it.
Not quite it?
Well, when I went off to college [Amherst], I majored in history, sang in a 14-man a cappella group, and didn't do any theater work until my senior year. I did a one-act play. And then I knew that I wanted to do plays for a living. But you don't tell anybody that, because even a kid knows that's pretty dumb, and also it's a late start. By then I knew that a lot of people in theater and movies had been performing professionally since they were 10 years old. I didn't start here in New York until I was 27, 26 - because I was afraid, mostly.
How did you get to New York, to professional theater?
I applied for internship programs at theaters all over the country and got turned down by all of them, except I was wait-listed for this place in Springfield, Massachusetts, StageWest. They accepted me and I studied there for three years. It was amazing! We studied the Suzuki method of actor training.
Like the violin?
Same name, but totally different. It's movement-based and all about strengthening the body, the voice. It's very, very physical. This was the first time I ever saw plays that were, like, truly gorgeous and breathtaking, huge in scope. The kind of plays not done in this country.
Why is that?
I don't think Americans are very achy. We're violent and we're funny. We're silly, but we don't do "ache." They took Shakespeare's plays and just did them as hugely as they should be done. Every scene would take your breath away.
So that's the training, essentially the only training, you had?
Yes. I did summer stock, and went to New York in 1995.
How do you start? Did you have connections in New York?
No, not really. You just start because what you don't know doesn't scare you. If I knew what I know now, I wouldn't have even bothered. But I was pretty lucky. I had a real job for about two years [a billing guy at Gold's Gym] until I didn't need it anymore - plus commercials helped. [Cariani now only does commercials for overseas markets. In a recent commercial for an insurance company in France, his ability to switch his accent from "Valley" to "Parisian" French got him the part. He called his Presque Isle High School French teacher to tell her.]
You were in Fiddler on the Roof. What's a Broadway schedule like?
In rehearsals, it's 10 to 6. In previews, we do a show at night and rehearse all day. And then [when the show is running] it's still a six- or seven-hour day, 12 on Wednesdays and Saturdays. We were performing for 1,700 people a night, and I was with the show for 14 months. You concentrate a lot on staying healthy. People sometimes have a perception of entertainers as being messed up - not in the theater. You can't do anything that upsets your routine. Some people joke, If you're going to drink, start now at the very beginning. No surprises.
Actors more often aspire to direct, not write, plays. How did you get into writing Almost, Maine?
I think just seeing how much out there is New York-centric. There's a strange false sense of intellectual superiority among people who live in urban areas, and it's bad news for understanding. Plays aren't allowed to be funny. I think goodness is funny, and smart. I'm grateful I learned that growing up in Presque Isle.
How difficult is it to get the story right?
Very. Because good actors can cover up your bad story, and then if your actors are too good in your early readings, you realize that they made your bad play work when you start to do it with people who might not be as gifted.
So what did the actors in the Penobscot production show you about your story?
They showed me how very funny the play is. They were a younger cast, and that made for a more rambunctious performance, and the two guys, they got the "falling" in love piece better than any other pair of guys. They were remarkable.
So this West Coast thing, how does that work?
I have a manager on the East Coast and one on the West, in LA. Film and TV happen out there. Last fall, my West Coast manager asked me to give it a real try this year and so I spent two months in the fall meeting everyone at the networks and studios I'll audition for in February and March. We'll see. I may be really bicoastal.
What are the qualities that have stood you best, as a person, in this whole process?
Persistence. That's all it takes. Because everyone's talented. That's the thing - everyone's really talented.
Growing up in Presque Isle, playing in the band, playing tennis or hockey, or just plain playing, Cariani was not a drama junkie and never saw himself as an actor, but here he is with credits like Law and Order, where he has a recurring role as Julian Beck, the very eager, and very funny, forensics guy. He's appeared in Six Degrees, Ed, and others, and made a number of pilots that didn't get picked up. He's currently out in LA auditioning like crazy. And that's only his West Coast work. He has another whole life as a stage actor, and one as a playwright.
In 2004, he received the Outer Circle Critics Award for Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical for his work in Fiddler on the Roof. He was also nominated for a Tony for the same performance
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His first play, Almost, Maine, is a smart romantic comedy turned a bit - quite a bit - on its ear. After being workshopped on Cape Cod, it hit the road: Portland, New York, and Bangor's Penobscot Theatre last year, and now it's being performed all over the country. And that's all over, including a current run in Shreveport, Louisiana!
Cul-de-sac, Cariani's second play, has been described as a dark twin to Almost, Maine, a suburban nightmare about three couples who are having difficulties with children, as in, one couple realizes they forgot to have their baby. With snippets of paper all covered with notes and dialogue stuffed in wooden shelves, he's working at accumulating the pieces of his next two, as yet unnamed, works, between treks to the West Coast. And wherever he goes, whenever possible, he has his copy of the Presque Isle Star Herald forwarded to him each week.
So was it a relatively quiet life in Presque Isle?
No, it was very busy, all church- and school-centered. I was a town kid, and I was amazed - I still am - at everything people from Maine knew [he moved to Maine when he was eight] about the land, about where we were, about everything. And the schools were amazing. We could do anything, everything. How we got away with doing musicals like Cabaret, I'll never know. We were fortunate. I was fortunate.
Do you remember your first play?
Calamity Jane, under Glenna Smith and Dan Ladner [at Presque Isle High School] - it was their last year. Anyway, they needed guys. They always need guys in high school plays. I was the ticket taker. A little tiny part, but I remember making everybody laugh. And that was it - well, not quite it.
Not quite it?
Well, when I went off to college [Amherst], I majored in history, sang in a 14-man a cappella group, and didn't do any theater work until my senior year. I did a one-act play. And then I knew that I wanted to do plays for a living. But you don't tell anybody that, because even a kid knows that's pretty dumb, and also it's a late start. By then I knew that a lot of people in theater and movies had been performing professionally since they were 10 years old. I didn't start here in New York until I was 27, 26 - because I was afraid, mostly.
How did you get to New York, to professional theater?
I applied for internship programs at theaters all over the country and got turned down by all of them, except I was wait-listed for this place in Springfield, Massachusetts, StageWest. They accepted me and I studied there for three years. It was amazing! We studied the Suzuki method of actor training.
Like the violin?
Same name, but totally different. It's movement-based and all about strengthening the body, the voice. It's very, very physical. This was the first time I ever saw plays that were, like, truly gorgeous and breathtaking, huge in scope. The kind of plays not done in this country.
Why is that?
I don't think Americans are very achy. We're violent and we're funny. We're silly, but we don't do "ache." They took Shakespeare's plays and just did them as hugely as they should be done. Every scene would take your breath away.
So that's the training, essentially the only training, you had?
Yes. I did summer stock, and went to New York in 1995.
How do you start? Did you have connections in New York?
No, not really. You just start because what you don't know doesn't scare you. If I knew what I know now, I wouldn't have even bothered. But I was pretty lucky. I had a real job for about two years [a billing guy at Gold's Gym] until I didn't need it anymore - plus commercials helped. [Cariani now only does commercials for overseas markets. In a recent commercial for an insurance company in France, his ability to switch his accent from "Valley" to "Parisian" French got him the part. He called his Presque Isle High School French teacher to tell her.]
You were in Fiddler on the Roof. What's a Broadway schedule like?
In rehearsals, it's 10 to 6. In previews, we do a show at night and rehearse all day. And then [when the show is running] it's still a six- or seven-hour day, 12 on Wednesdays and Saturdays. We were performing for 1,700 people a night, and I was with the show for 14 months. You concentrate a lot on staying healthy. People sometimes have a perception of entertainers as being messed up - not in the theater. You can't do anything that upsets your routine. Some people joke, If you're going to drink, start now at the very beginning. No surprises.
Actors more often aspire to direct, not write, plays. How did you get into writing Almost, Maine?
I think just seeing how much out there is New York-centric. There's a strange false sense of intellectual superiority among people who live in urban areas, and it's bad news for understanding. Plays aren't allowed to be funny. I think goodness is funny, and smart. I'm grateful I learned that growing up in Presque Isle.
How difficult is it to get the story right?
Very. Because good actors can cover up your bad story, and then if your actors are too good in your early readings, you realize that they made your bad play work when you start to do it with people who might not be as gifted.
So what did the actors in the Penobscot production show you about your story?
They showed me how very funny the play is. They were a younger cast, and that made for a more rambunctious performance, and the two guys, they got the "falling" in love piece better than any other pair of guys. They were remarkable.
So this West Coast thing, how does that work?
I have a manager on the East Coast and one on the West, in LA. Film and TV happen out there. Last fall, my West Coast manager asked me to give it a real try this year and so I spent two months in the fall meeting everyone at the networks and studios I'll audition for in February and March. We'll see. I may be really bicoastal.
What are the qualities that have stood you best, as a person, in this whole process?
Persistence. That's all it takes. Because everyone's talented. That's the thing - everyone's really talented.


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