Arts & Entertainment
Accompanying ‘Florence’
‘Big Bang’ star plays gay in new Meryl Streep vehicle
Simon Helberg as accompanist Cosmé McMoon in ‘Florence Foster Jenkins.’ (Photo courtesy Paramount Pictures)
Fans who only know Simon Helberg as the super nerd Howard Wolowitz on “The Big Bang Theory” will be surprised and delighted to see him in his latest role: Meryl Streep’s shyly flamboyant accompanist in the new movie “Florence Foster Jenkins,” opening Friday, Aug. 12 in wide release.
Madame Florence, played by Streep, was a wealthy New York socialite and patron of the arts. Although she was a classically trained pianist who played at the White House when she was a child, her claim to musical fame was an infamous 1944 Carnegie Hall performance that showcased her complete lack of singing ability.
Helberg plays Cosmé McMoon, Madame Florence’s long-suffering but supportive pianist. He started developing his character by zeroing in on the work of screenwriter Nicholas Martin.
“First and foremost is the script,” Helberg says. “He wrote these characters who are very vivid and very full. There were so many clues in the script. I took every word and direction as gospel.”
From there, Helberg turned to the historical record, discovering he was born in Mexico to Irish immigrants who later moved to San Antonio and New York.
“I went to research who he really was. There wasn’t a lot of information on him, but there were these little insights,” he says. “I thought he must have felt somewhat alien.”
As for McMoon being gay, everything pointed to it. McMoon was, after all, an accompanist. He was fascinated with muscle magazines and body-building competitions. He worked at a bathhouse and never married.
But Helberg decided to approach the character’s sexual orientation in a subtle manner, reflecting both the character and the period. McMoon starts out the movie “completely innocent.” But, as he starts to move about in the glittering social circles that Jenkins and her husband St. Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant) inhabit, he becomes more aware of his sexuality. By the end of the movie, McMoon rushes backstage for the Carnegie Hall concert, explaining his lateness by breathlessly gushing, “I was attacked by lots of sailors.” As Helberg dryly notes, it’s not exactly clear what has happened, but “the light bulb has started to flicker.”
As for McMoon’s delightful physical mannerisms, they’re rooted in Helbing’s own training as a piano player: arms weighted to the floor and fingers dancing over the keys. Cosmé, Simon says, “has the posture that a classically trained pianist would be taught.”
Helberg, in fact, nearly became a professional pianist.
“I’m good,” he says. “I used to obsessively play and practice all the time in high school. But once I started acting, then I just started playing for fun. I threw away that career path. Because being an actor is so much easier than being a jazz pianist.”
“I kept playing for fun,” he says, “but never anything classical or opera. Then this came along. I really wanted to be in this movie and thought how great that I can play the piano. At least I’ll be able to put my hands in the right place and make it look real when a classically trained pianist plays the music. Maybe I’ll get to play a song or two.”
But things turned out slightly differently. Director Stephen Frears wanted a pianist who could really play Strauss and Mozart. Once he got the part, Helbing started a crash course in classical music. Then, once he got on set, Helberg started a crash course with Meryl Streep. Luckily, Helberg says, “I’m really good at making people sound worse.”
Streep and Helberg hey had a week and a half to rehearse before filming started.
“We had this great collaboration,” Helberg says. “We really had to go into this intimate and intense training. We had to work it and work it and work it. It was incredibly tough and satisfying to actually sit there and do it.”
Initially, Streep and Helberg assumed they would perform to pre-recorded tracks.
“I know Meryl always wanted to sing it live, but at first that didn’t seem possible,” the actor says. “We prerecorded at Abbey Road Studios, but once we did that, the producers said, ‘Well, they can really do it. Let’s just have them do it live. Screw that album.’”
Working with Streep, Helberg says, “was honestly a dream for me. She’s very aware of people and she’s very open and she’s grounded. She’s about making the best movie she can and it’s not about her. There’s something very effortless about it.”
Since McMoon becomes a confidante to both Madame Florence and her husband, Helberg also spent a lot of time working with Hugh Grant, whom he calls “hilariously self-deprecating and neurotic.”
“I thought that was my job but were battling for who was most neurotic. He was completely consumed with making the film the best it could be. I know he was also nervous about working with Meryl and even Meryl was nervous about being Meryl. That’s a lot of pressure.”
The scene, however, that was must challenging for the actor was McMoon’s delayed burst of laughter after he finally hears Madame Florence sing.
“It’s so hard to laugh that way when you’re having an uncontrollable fit of laughter.”
He asked Meryl Streep for advice, and she said, “Well try to cry, that always makes me laugh.” Helberg rejected that advice, fearing he’d actually cry.
He tried recording a couple of things on his phone, but finally realized, “I just had to surrender to it. Stephen had a conversation with me about how I saw that scene, about how I saw it being shot and how I saw it being cut together, and how I saw the elevator and how many people should be in it. He really was asking me questions that I felt less qualified to answer than he, but he really wanted to know what I thought. It was a tricky scene for everyone involved, but it did turn out nicely.”
Now that “Florence Foster Jenkins” is in theaters, Helberg is getting ready to start filming season 10 of “The Big Bang Theory.” The actor admits he doesn’t know a lot about what’s in store for Howard and his friend.
He says we’ll be seeing more of Christine Baranski, Laurie Metcalf and Judd Hirsch and meet Penny’s brother and mother.
“I literally have no idea.” he says. “They don’t tell us anything ever until we get the script the night before the table read. What I do know, based on my rudimentary knowledge of biology, is that he will be having a baby, because Bernadette is pregnant and I hear that’s how it works. Their baby will come in the first half of the season and they will be navigating that and figuring out who the bigger baby is, him or the baby.”
The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington perform “The Holiday Show” at Lincoln Theatre (1215 U St., N.W.). Visit gmcw.org for tickets and showtimes.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
Santa will be very relieved.
You’ve taken most of the burden off him by making a list and checking it twice on his behalf. The gift-buying in your house is almost done – except for those few people who are just so darn hard to buy for. So what do you give to the person who has (almost) everything? You give them a good book, like maybe one of these.
Memoir and biography
The person who loves digging into a multi-level memoir will be happy unwrapping “Blessings and Disasters: A Story of Alabama” by Alexis Okeowo (Henry Holt). It’s a memoir about growing up Black in what was once practically ground zero for the Confederacy. It’s about inequality, it busts stereotypes, and yet it still oozes love of place. You can’t go wrong if you wrap it up with “Queen Mother: Black Nationalism, Reparations, and the Untold Story of Audley Moore” by Ashley D. Farmer (Pantheon). It’s a chunky book with a memoir with meaning and plenty of thought.
For the giftee on your list who loves to laugh, wrap up “In My Remaining Years” by Jean Grae (Flatiron Books). It’s part memoir, part comedy, a look back at the late-last-century, part how-did-you-get-to-middle-age-already? and all fun. Wrap it up with “Here We Go: Lessons for Living Fearlessly from Two Traveling Nanas” by Eleanor Hamby and Dr. Sandra Hazellip with Elisa Petrini (Viking). It’s about the adventures of two 80-something best friends who seize life by the horns – something your giftee should do, too.
If there’ll be someone at your holiday table who’s finally coming home this year, wrap up “How I Found Myself in the Midwest” by Steve Grove (Simon & Schuster). It’s the story of a Silicon Valley worker who gives up his job and moves with his family to Minnesota, which was once home to him. That was around the time the pandemic hit, George Floyd was murdered, and life in general had been thrown into chaos. How does someone reconcile what was with what is now? Pair it with “Homestand: Small Town Baseball and the Fight for the Soul of America” by Will Bardenwerper (Doubleday). It’s set in New York and but isn’t that small-town feel universal, no matter where it comes from?
Won’t the adventurer on your list be happy when they unwrap “I Live Underwater” by Max Gene Nohl (University of Wisconsin Press)? They will, when they realize that this book is by a former deep-sea diver, treasure hunter, and all-around daredevil who changed the way we look for things under water. Nohl died more than 60 years ago, but his never-before-published memoir is fresh and relevant and will be a fun read for the right person.
If celeb bios are your giftee’s thing, then look for “The Luckiest” by Kelly Cervantes (BenBella Books). It’s the Midwest-to-New-York-City story of an actress and her life, her marriage, and what she did when tragedy hit. Filled with grace, it’s a winner.
Your music lover won’t want to open any other gifts if you give “Only God Can Judge Me: The Many Lives of Tupac Shakur” by Jeff Pearlman (Mariner Books). It’s the story of the life, death, and everything in-between about this iconic performer, including the mythology that he left behind. Has it been three decades since Tupac died? It has, but your music lover never forgets. Wrap it up with “Point Blank (Quick Studies)” by Bob Dylan, text by Eddie Gorodetsky, Lucy Sante, and Jackie Hamilton (Simon & Schuster), a book of Dylan’s drawings and artwork. This is a very nice coffee-table size book that will be absolutely perfect for fans of the great singer and for folks who love art.
For the giftee who’s concerned with their fellow man, “The Lost and the Found: A True Story of Homelessness, Found Family and Second Chances” by Kevin Fagan (One Signal / Atria) may be the book to give. It’s a story of two “unhoused” people in San Francisco, one of the country’s wealthiest cities, and their struggles. There’s hope in this book, but also trouble and your giftee will love it.
For the person on your list who suffered loss this year, give “Pine Melody” by Stacey Meadows (Independently Published), a memoir of loss, grief, and healing while remembering the person gone.
LGBTQ fiction
For the mystery lover who wants something different, try “Crime Ink: Iconic,” edited by John Copenhaver and Salem West (Bywater Books), a collection of short stories inspired by “queer legends” and allies you know. Psychological thrillers, creepy crime, cozies, they’re here.
Novel lovers will want to curl up this winter with “Middle Spoon” by Alejandro Varela (Viking), a book about a man who appears to have it all, until his heart is broken and the fix for it is one he doesn’t quite understand and neither does anyone he loves.
LGBTQ studies – nonfiction
For the young man who’s struggling with issues of gender, “Before They Were Men” by Jacob Tobia (Harmony Books) might be a good gift this year. These essays on manhood in today’s world works to widen our conversations on the role politics and feminism play in understanding masculinity and how it’s time we open our minds.
If there’s someone on your gift list who had a tough growing-up (didn’t we all?), then wrap up “I’m Prancing as Fast as I Can” by Jon Kinnally (Permuted Press / Simon & Schuster). Kinnally was once an awkward kid but he grew up to be a writer for TV shows you’ll recognize. You can’t go wrong gifting a story like that. Better idea: wrap it up with “So Gay for You: Friendship, Found Family, & The Show That Started It All” by Leisha Hailey & Kate Moennig (St. Martin’s Press), a book about a little TV show that launched a BFF-ship.
Who doesn’t have a giftee who loves music? You sure do, so wrap up “The Secret Public: How Music Moved Queer Culture from the Margins to the Mainstream” by Jon Savage (Liveright). Nobody has to tell your giftee that queer folk left their mark on music, but they’ll love reading the stories in this book and knowing what they didn’t know.
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Theater
Studio’s ‘Mother Play’ draws from lesbian playwright’s past
A poignant memory piece laced with sadness and wry laughs
‘The Mother Play’
Through Jan. 4
Studio Theatre
1501 14th St., N.W.
$42 – $112
Studiotheatre.org
“The Mother Play” isn’t the first work by Pulitzer Prize-winning lesbian playwright Paula Vogel that draws from her past. It’s just the most recent.
Currently enjoying an extended run at Studio Theatre, “The Mother Play,” (also known as “The Mother Play: A Play in Five Evictions,” or more simply, “Mother Play”) is a 90-minute powerful and poignant memory piece laced with sadness and wry laughs.
The mother in question is Phyllis Herman (played exquisitely by Kate Eastwood Norris), a divorced government secretary bringing up two children under difficult circumstances. When we meet them it’s 1964 and the family is living in a depressing subterranean apartment adjacent to the building’s trash room.
Phyllis isn’t exactly cut out for single motherhood; an alcoholic chain-smoker with two gay offspring, Carl and Martha, both in their early teens, she seems beyond her depth.
In spite (or because of) the challenges, things are never dull in the Herman home. Phyllis is warring with landlords, drinking, or involved in some other domestic intrigue. At the same time, Carl is glued to books by authors like Jane Austen, and queer novelist Lytton Strachey, while Martha is charged with topping off mother’s drinks, not a mean feat.
Despite having an emotionally and physically withholding parent, adolescent Martha is finding her way. Fortunately, she has nurturing older brother Carl (the excellent Stanley Bahorek) who introduces her to queer classics like “The Well of Loneliness” by Radclyffe Hall, and encourages Martha to pursue lofty learning goals.
Zoe Mann’s Martha is just how you might imagine the young Vogel – bright, searching, and a tad awkward.
As the play moves through the decades, Martha becomes an increasingly confident young lesbian before sliding comfortably into early middle age. Over time, her attitude toward her mother becomes more sympathetic. It’s a convincing and pleasing performance.
Phyllis is big on appearances, mainly her own. She has good taste and a sharp eye for thrift store and Goodwill finds including Chanel or a Von Furstenberg wrap dress (which looks smashing on Eastwood Norris, by the way), crowned with the blonde wig of the moment.
Time and place figure heavily into Vogel’s play. The setting is specific: “A series of apartments in Prince George’s and Montgomery County from 1964 to the 21st century, from subbasement custodial units that would now be Section 8 housing to 3-bedroom units.”
Krit Robinson’s cunning set allows for quick costume and prop changes as decades seamlessly move from one to the next. And if by magic, projection designer Shawn Boyle periodically covers the walls with scurrying roaches, a persistent problem for these renters.
Margot Bordelon directs with sensitivity and nuance. Her take on Vogel’s tragicomedy hits all the marks.
Near the play’s end, there’s a scene sometimes referred to as “The Phyllis Ballet.” Here, mother sits onstage silently in front of her dressing table mirror. She is removed of artifice and oozes a mixture of vulnerability but not without some strength. It’s longish for a wordless scene, but Bordelon has paced it perfectly.
When Martha arranges a night of family fun with mom and now out and proud brother at Lost and Found (the legendary D.C. gay disco), the plan backfires spectacularly. Not long after, Phyllis’ desire for outside approval resurfaces tenfold, evidenced by extreme discomfort when Carl, her favorite child, becomes visibly ill with HIV/AIDS symptoms.
Other semi-autobiographical plays from the DMV native’s oeuvre include “The Baltimore Waltz,” a darkly funny, yet moving piece written in memory of her brother (Carl Vogel), who died of AIDS in 1988. The playwright additionally wrote “How I Learned to Drive,” an acclaimed play heavily inspired by her own experiences with sexual abuse as a teenager.
“The Mother Play” made its debut on Broadway in 2024, featuring Jessica Lange in the eponymous role, earning her a Tony Award nomination.
Like other real-life matriarch inspired characters (Mary Tyrone, Amanda Wingfield, Violet Weston to name a few) Phyllis Herman seems poised to join that pantheon of complicated, women.
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