Stepping From ‘Cheers’ Bar to the Bard

To hear that Kelsey Grammer will play “Richard II” at the Mark Taper Forum is to conjure the image of a rather superior, snide figure with an officious hull of a jaw who won’t sit upon the ground and talk of the sad death of kings without first laying out a hankie to keep his trousers clean.

But that wouldn’t be King Richard. We’re thinking of Dr. Frazier Crane, whom Grammer plays on the popular TV series “Cheers.” The truth is that, at 37, Grammer has had a life in the theater long before, as he puts it, “seven shows turned out to be eight years.” And in fact there’s no noticeable trace of Crane’s hauteur in Grammer’s civilian demeanor. Nor of Richard’s, for that matter, if you think of the king’s obstinate vainglory and power-lust--before he’s undone.

Hotspur would be more like it. Striding into a Malibu oceanside restaurant, Grammer exuded an air of the unpredictable; confident, alert, good-humored and marginally distractible.

“Kelsey’s the last--at least in my lifetime--of the inspired, irreverent people,” said Robert Egan, who directs “Richard II” (which opens Thursday). “He’s got a wild streak in him. He’s managed to retain the inspired child which most people approaching 40 say goodby to. Like Richard, Kelsey’s a powerful, primitive man. He knows what suffering’s about. He’s intelligent and gifted at language. We did ‘Measure for Measure’ seven years ago, and I’ve been waiting to work with him again ever since.”

Grammer came a week-and-a-half late to the production, after John Glover, who was originally cast in the title role, had to leave to fulfill a TV contract. In catching up, Grammer had this to say about Richard: “He’s a power-mad egomaniac in the first act, then because of his dethroning, he discovers his humanity and becomes a human being. As he descends in terms of power, there’s an ascendancy of his humanity and self-discovery, which is what makes him tragic in the end. The role makes you take a look at your mortality and belief systems.”

Grammer says that he’s never seen a production of “Richard II” but that he’s fairly practiced at introspection and sifting through battered beliefs. One’s first image of him is as a surfer kid, initially in the Virgin Islands of his birth, then at age 12 in Fort Lauderdale.

“I’ve had kind of an interesting family history,” Grammer said, in a distinctly understated prologue. “My father was murdered, my sister was murdered, and two of my half-brothers were killed in a shark attack. The greatest influence in my early life was my grandfather, who was a retired Army colonel and oil executive. He’d fought at Guadalcanal. He was a fascinating man, a true gentleman. When he died, I went to live with my father in the Virgin Islands. He was a jazz musician and a magazine editor. He owned a bar and a radio station. How he died is very confusing, but a lot of it had to do with the politics of the island. He was very outspoken.”

As the only male in a family of women consisting of grandmother, mother and sisters, Grammer felt at odds with what he calls “a controlling environment. When I left home, I was amazed at the myth that had been concocted about how indispensable I was. I was raised a Christian Scientist. The credo ‘sin, disease and death are not real. Will is infinite mind and its infinite manifestations’ is an idea that got me through a lot. I was a classic case of how you subvert childhood pain. I had an image of myself as being immortal, of trying to outdo everyone I knew, like Errol Flynn.”

Grammer shook his head at the folly of the idea.

“The biggest part of my life early on was surfing,” he said. “It had a lot to do with my sense of well-being, and God. I took up sailing later, and, even now, there’s no greater feeling than when you leave sight of land and you’re in the presence of what’s central to the universe.”

Grammer was always a serious reader and had a good singing voice, concertizing in local Methodist and Catholic churches. Although for a while he flirted with the idea of applying to Annapolis, he had also taken an early interest in acting and traveled up to Juilliard, where he auditioned as Willy Loman and Bottom with sun-bleached hair that reached to the middle of his back. John Houseman and company took him in. He lasted two years.

“In retrospect, I learned a lot. It takes about five years to digest everything. They teach you how to walk and talk all over again. It takes time to assimilate, but it’s worth it. After I got thrown out, that was the year my sister died. She was the sixth of seven victims in a Colorado Springs murder spree. That . . . was a real big one. That’s when I lost faith.”

His jaw dropped pensively and he looked away for a moment. “I went back up to New York and auditioned 100 times. Didn’t get a thing. I painted offices, worked construction, waited on tables. In the summer of ’76 I was painting Ellis Rabb’s office. He looked at me and said, ‘You’re an actor, aren’t you?’ ”

Rabb recommended him to San Diego’s Old Globe theater, and after a harrowing trip west (he’d borrowed $140 from his grandmother to tune up his only means of transportation, a motorcycle), he spent three seasons with the Globe, and his career began to take hold.

Back in New York, he played in “Plenty” at the Public Theatre, “A Month in the Country” with Amanda Plummer and Tammy Grimes, and Cassio to James Earl Jones’ “Othello.” His New York reputation earned him a couple of TV auditions. The first was the pilot for “Kate and Allie”; the second was “Cheers.”

Grammer thought he’d learned stoicism after his grandfather died and he studied “Julius Caesar” to see how Brutus dealt with calamity. However, “I’m pretty much an anarchist in my head,” he said.

Success didn’t change that. In July, 1987, he was arrested on suspicion of driving under the influence of alcohol and cocaine. He didn’t attend his rehab program--a condition of probation, which was revoked, then reinstated. He was arrested again in April, 1988, and failed to show for two arraignments. For the first arrest, he was sentenced to 30 days in jail and 10 days of picking up freeway trash. For the second, he was sentenced to 90 days house arrest and had to wear an electronic tracking device when he went to work on “Cheers” (he’s on probation until 1993).

“The tabloids had a field day, saying I was on suicide watch,” Grammer said disdainfully of his first arrest. “But it was the first time in 10 years I didn’t have to worry about anything and get some sleep. I’ll admit I’d been running away from the problem. I tried to negotiate it away instead of facing up.

“I’ve been clean, and honest,” he said, describing his current behavior. “I may have a drink now and then, but that’s it.”

Grammer may have been talking about himself in describing Frazier, when he said, “The good thing about him is that he’s always thinking and always willing to learn. He’s become genuine because he’s grown.”