Basking in Tony’s Afterglow : Prize for Regional Work Sends SCR to the Big Time

With memories of South Coast Repertory’s humble beginnings still fresh in their minds, artistic directors David Emmes and Martin Benson accepted a Tony Award here on national television and partied late into the night with a glittering array of show biz celebrities.

“Martin and I clinked glasses over dinner,” Emmes recounted before the Sunday evening telecast, “and we had this flashback to our little meeting at the Copper Skillet in Long Beach 25 years ago. It was the first time we discussed starting a theater company. Talk about bookends. We went from that little coffee shop to a little French restaurant in the Apple.”

The restaurant, it turns out, was French but hardly as quaint as he made it sound. Emmes and Benson began their weekend-long celebration Saturday at Le Bernardin, one of this city’s most exclusive dining spots.

“We decided to splurge,” said Benson. “Reality resumes tomorrow.”

Their triumphant evening on Sunday commenced at the Minskoff Theatre where Madonna--the hottest, not to say newest, star on Broadway--presented them with a special Tony for regional theater.

The celebration continued afterward at Sardi’s, the legendary theater-row restaurant, where they

were buffeted by photographers, reporters and autograph hounds.

Capping the Tony fever was the traditional post-midnight gala for the winners, which ran into the early morning hours Monday in the Grand Ballroom of the New York Hilton--and even the camera crews wore black tie.

About 1,100 people attended the ball, among them Jason Robards, Bernadette Peters, Marvin Hamlisch, Kathleen Turner, Amy Irving and Richard Chamberlain.

Emmes and Benson, who kept referring to themselves as “the guys from out of town,” became inadvertent stars because of Madonna.

There had been some question whether their brief moment in the Tony spotlight would be telecast or whether it would come during a commercial break, to be seen only by the audience at the Minskoff. The Madonna connection guaranteed their appearance on national television.

But it also meant that Benson would spend his hours before the broadcast with a case of nerves. “I’ve been in a flopsweat all day,” he said. “David surprises me. He is cooler than a cucumber.”

Indeed, Emmes appeared as mellow as if he had swallowed a bottle of Valium.

Benson added: “They told us, OK, you guys are going on live. Now keep an open mind about Madonna. I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I expected them to say our presenter would be Jessica Tandy or somebody like that.”

In fact, getting their Tony from Madonna was something of a fluke. Initially the producers of the Tony broadcast had hoped to present Madonna in a scene from David Mamet’s “Speed-the-Plow,” which was nominated for best play.

However, when it came to picking a scene that displayed her acting most effectively, according to Tony spokesman Keith Sherman, the best scene was also the climax of the play. The producers of “Speed-the-Plow” decided against broadcasting it, he said, “and we agreed it didn’t make sense showing her to less advantage.”

“It actually makes a lot of sense to have Madonna as our presenter,” Emmes reflected. “She’s relatively new to the acting scene, and we’re from out of town. I’m sure the producers of the broadcast are tap-dancing because of what she will do for the ratings.”

Trying to relax before the Sunday evening broadcast, Emmes and Benson took a stroll down Broadway to the Sardi’s building to pick up their tickets for the ball and any last-minute instructions the producers might have. Emmes, in a safari jacket, blue pants and white walking shoes, could have passed for a tourist and so could have Benson, in a tweed jacket, brown slacks and loafers.

“You’re Act IV, guys,” said Roy Somlyo, their “handler,” when they got to his tiny office. He plopped a thick script bound in a yellow folder on his desk: “I call this the Yellow Pages,” he quipped. “You’re in the middle of the show. You’ll go on somewhere around 9.”

A messenger, interrupting the meeting, arrived with a note from director Greg Mosher, one of the Tony nominees. Somlyo read it. The phone rang. It was Joe Papp. “He wasn’t coming tonight,” Somlyo said, hanging up. “But he’s changed his mind because of the tribute to Michael Bennett.”

Emmes and Benson, seated in front of Somlyo with their knees almost touching his desk, received this information like two students before a headmaster.

The phone rang again. ‘Yes, fine,” said Somlyo. “It’s taken care of.” He hung up. “One of the nominees from ‘Sarafina’ speaks Zulu,” he explained. “In case she wins I have to arrange for a Zulu translator. It’s curious things like that we do here.”

Then he pulled out a small blue check and laid it on his desk. It was made out for $15,000.

“Since it’s gauche to give you the money on camera, here it is now,” he said, referring to the cash prize from American Express Co. that goes with the special Tony for regional theater.

Somlyo handed over the check.

“It could have been more substantial,” he noted. “I thought it was time to escalate. But politically it was bad. I think we’ll bump it next year.”

Emmes and Benson didn’t bat an eye.

“I’m not apologizing for $15,000,” Somlyo hastened to add. “It’s a nice sum.”

“We’ll take it,” said Benson.

Surprisingly, it was Emmes, the cool cucumber, who faltered momentarily during the telecast while Benson sailed through unruffled, thanking the SCR board of directors and the Orange County audience for their contributions to the theater’s success.

“I blanked,” Emmes said afterward at Sardi’s, feeling a bit mortified.

He was visibly relieved, though, by a tape playback of his remarks, which showed that it would have taken close scrutiny to notice his ever-so-slight paralysis.

On camera, Emmes emphasized that the Tony served to highlight SCR’s commitment “to nurture and support that endangered species, the American playwright, in whose hands rests the future vitality of all our theater.”

It was Madonna, moreover, who seemed to be having trouble. Referring to a slow-moving teleprompter as her punishment for not attending the Tony rehearsal earlier that afternoon, she tried to lighten her recitation of the SCR odyssey by ad-libbing that Emmes and Benson, “the two young men” when they had founded the troupe, were now “old men.”

Emmes, 49, joked: “That’s the first time I was ever called an old man.”

“I wanted to make a crack about that,” Benson, 51, recalled.

He decided to stick to his prepared remarks instead and bussed Madonna on the cheek.

“She’s probably never been kissed like that before,” he quipped. “It’s the gentle touch of age. Now she’s probably wondering why she hangs around with Sean.”

Asked by reporters how it felt to kiss Madonna, he replied: “Soft as butter.”

Indeed, it made him a celebrity of sorts. On leaving the Minskoff Theatre, the autograph hounds begged Benson for his signature.

“I’m sure they had no idea who I was,” he noted. “I signed Mandy Patinkin to all of them.”