Christopher Reeve '74 in Life Is a Dreamat Cornell,

Rave Reeve-viewsBy Edward L. Gunts '78Hollywood couldn't have arranged it anybetter on a sound set. There were blackties, klieg lights, and droves of reportersin the grand entry hall below, a star-studded cocktail party and a buffet din-ner on the rooftop terrace above. Thesetting was Kennedy Center in Washing-ton, DC; the time, 7 p.m., December 10,1978. In just a few moments the beautifuland powerful of Washington and be-yond—from President Carter and theKennedy clan to newswoman BarbaraWalters and bodybuilder Arnold Schwar-zenegger—would file into the EisenhowerTheater for the " presidential premiere"of the $35 million film version of one ofAmerica's most enduring and durableheroes—Superman.

The star of the night—and the subjectof rave reviews and countless cover sto-ries in the weeks to come—was an actorwhose name was until then virtually un-known to national audiences, a Cornel-lian, Christopher Reeve '74. Though un-heralded and only 26, he had alreadyserved a considerable acting apprentice-

ship before being tapped for the muchsought-after part.

Suddenly he had the ultimate credit—the title role in a film some critics predictwill become the highest-grossing movieof all time. After five gala premieres—in-cluding a command performance for theQueen of England—the film opened lastDecember in 700 theaters across theUnited States and Canada. Seeminglyovernight, Reeve catapulted to stardom.

Christopher Reeve was born in NewYork City in 1952 to non-show-businessparents who were divorced when he wasyoung. His mother, with whom he grewup in Princeton, New Jersey, is a reporterfor a weekly newspaper; his father is aprofessor at Yale; his stepfather a stock-broker; and his stepmother a professor atConnecticut College.

Reeve showed an early attraction forthe stage, playing the part of the secondguard in an amateur production ofCinderella at the age of 8 and that of anextra in a repertory production of Gilbertand Sullivan in the McCarter Theater in

Princeton when he was 9.His formal preparation began at age

15, however, when he apprenticed him-self to the Williamstown Playhouse inMassachusetts, one of the country's topsummer stock theaters. During the nexttwo years, with the help of an under-standing headmaster, Reeve alternatedbetween studies at Princeton Day School,a private high school, and appearances inlocal community theater.

He also found time to be goalie for theschool hockey team, work with the schoolorchestra, and sing in a madrigal group,but says he felt most at home with thetheater: 'That 's what I did best."

His mother, Mrs. Barbara Johnson,explains that when it came time tochoose a college, Reeve was looking for aschool where he could get a good liberalarts background, yet which had a goodtheater department and was closeenough to New York City that he couldcome in for auditions and work on vaca-tions.

Reeve said he decided to postpone anyintensive training as an actor untilgraduate school. The choice came downto Brown and Cornell. Reeve had friendsin Providence but his grandfather,Horace Lamb '16, LLB '20, had gone toCornell, where he was one of the firststudents accepted under the Tellurideprogram. Reeve chose Cornell andmoved into University Hall 2 in the latesummer of 1970, but not before he hadthe experience of going on national touras Celeste Holm's leading man in theplay The Irregular Verb To Love.

At Cornell, he continued to work pro-fessionally. He had an agent who set upauditions and other meetings for Reevearound his class schedule. "SometimesI'd have to cut classes, but that becameits own incentive," he said. "Somehow Imanaged to balance the academic andprofessional sides of my life." Reeve livedin Risley Residential College for the Cre-ative and Performing Arts his sophomoreand junior years, and was an Englishmajor with a grade average he recalls as"about a 3.1."

"Everything Chris did was planned toenhance his ambition in the theater," hismother says. "Even at an early age hetook himself very seriously. He was notthe fraternity type." His acting abilityand his six-foot-four good looks helpedhim land roles in University Theaterproductions of Stoppard's Rosencrantzand Guildenstern Are Dead, Calderon'sLife Is a Dream, Brecht's Good Womanof Setzuan, and Beckett's Waiting for

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Prof. James Clancy, theater arts,emeritus, Reeve's undergraduate adviserand director in Good Woman ofSetzuan,says he remembers Reeve as "an inter-esting young actor—bright, talented, andhandsome." As to how much Reeve'sCornell experience helped him later on,Clancy isn't sure. "Let's say it didn'thurt. We've had several recent studentswho were trained here and got work, butjust as many who didn't. Others workedfor a few years and then ended up as shoeclerks. It's a tough field to break into andstay in."

Reeve says today he was "delighted"with Cornell's willingness to encouragestudents who want to pursue actingcareers and grateful for its policy ofgranting credit for in-absentia study. Hereceived credit one semester for partici-pating in San Diego's Shakespeare Fes-tival and again for a trip to England tostudy British repertory theater—at theend of which he worked at the Old Vic inLondon.

The College of Arts and Sciences alsoallowed him to take his senior year at theJulliard School of Drama in New Yorkwhere he was one of three undergraduatestudents admitted to the advanced pro-gram under Academy Award winningactor John Houseman. In August 1974 hewas graduated from Cornell with a bach-elor's degree.

To finance the year's study at Julliard

Reeve had accepted a role in the daytimeTV serial Love of Life. His character,who had money and no scruples, wasmarried to two women at once, one preg-nant. He recalls vividly that one day in aNew Hampshire restaurant a womanrecognized him for his TV part andwhacked him over the head with herhandbag, shouting, "How dare you treatyour pregnant wife that way?"

For the next two-and-a-half years hehad roles in television, a movie, and livetheater, before auditioning for the Super-man role. He worked on Broadway andon tour with Katharine Hepburn in AMatter of Gravity and was performingoff-Broadway in late 1976 when sum-moned to England, where most of Super-man was to be shot, to test for the titlerole.

The movie's executive producer, IlyaSalkind, has said since, "The first temp-tation was to go with the biggest starname we could find. We approached orwere approached by just about everyleading man in Hollywood and abroad.But if we had cast a well-known star, ashe soared over the city of Metropolis, youwould never have been able to forget hisstar personality. It would always havebeen the star up there—not Superman."

Of his audition Reeve says, "I look attests as a work session rather than anaudition. I go in thoroughly prepared,because that's a big step toward havingconfidence." Producers were impressed

Reeve bridges a gap as Superman.

with his ability to show two distinctly dif-ferent personalities—Superman and hisother manifestation, the mild-manneredreporter, Clark Kent. Reeve got the job.

Preparing for the part required sixmonths of body building—road workand exercise—to add muscle and bulk tohis slender body.

Margot Kidder, who plays the film'supbeat, liberated Lois Lane, puts in agood word for her leading man. "In thebeginning," she said in an interview onopening day, "our approaches to actingwere totally different. Chris was disci-plined, dedicated. He gets into characterand ignores what goes on around him. Ilike laughter on the set, looseness. He'sintellectual. I'm impulsive. But it allworked out in the end. Now he's like mybrother."

"No one else could have brought it offthe way Chris did," director RichardDonner added. "He's a terrific actor."

Reeve considered the biggest challengeto be putting together the characters ofKent and Superman. With Kent heplayed the absent minded, clumsy clownto the hilt and takes pride in the fact thathe added humor to the part. As Super-man, he said, he tried to make the card-board superhero "more human" thanhe's been in an earlier movie and a tele-vision series. Reeve said the most diffi-cult part of the role was the physical

MARCH 1979 • 27

Reeve as the shy reporter Clark Kent,and, above, asPozzo in a 1971 UniversityTheater production of Samuel Beckett'sWaiting for Godot.

strain it required, especially in filmingthe flying sequences. For these, he wassuspended on a system of wires, at timesas much as 200 feet above ground and inicy temperatures.

Though experienced as an actor,Reeve said he was not ready to handlefame as a sex symbol—the "sexy, savvySuperman" of the '70s, as one magazinebilled him. "I didn't do this role just toget mobbed at the airport." Reeve saidhe thought no amount of education canprepare a person for the consequences ofbeing famous.

In a way, though, Reeve was groomedfor the limelight. He tells the story of adirector in Princeton who warned himwhen he was 14, "Chris, you better decidewhat you want, because you're going toget it." "I always knew I'd be a successone day," he says without self-conscious-ness.

Reeve returned to Ithaca briefly lastfall to visit old friends. While in town, hedropped in on a run-through of a Cornellproduction, Keep Your Eye on Emily,and met with theater students in themaster's program.

Jennifer Haarstick '72, a lecturer inthe theater arts department, said shedidn't think Reeve had changed muchfrom the way she knew him as an under-graduate, "except that he has more con-fidence." She said she thought returningto Cornell gave him a chance to go backinto the past, to see who he was and gethis bearings before becoming caught upin all the hoopla surrounding the open-ing of the movie.

Ms. Haarstick said she was glad to seethat "he still cares about his friends, eventhough he's at a point where he couldhave forgotten about them. I don't thinkhe's ready to live the life of a Hollywoodmovie star. He still likes to be able to seemovies or play tennis or go gliding with-out drawing a big crowd. He wants toretain his privacy."

His college adviser, Professor Clancy,says he doesn't think being cast in onerole has made Reeve a star. "Not yet. Hejust got a good job. He's getting a lot ofattention.

"Reeve was in the right place at theright time. His particular good looks,which are reminiscent of the '20s and'30s," are now in vogue, Clancy said,since there has been a shift away fromthe "let's-be-tough-and-ride-motorcycleslook. But if Reeve got the job because ofhis looks, he's a good enough actor tohang on."

Throughout his two years of work onthe production, Reeve made every effortto distinguish himself from the Super-man persona while off-screen. He said heis determined to avoid any typecastingproblems which may have plagued actorslike Sean Connery, Troy Donahue, or hisown predecessor as Superman in themovies, George Reeves. He doesn't seehimself as a commercial product to bemarketed and he doesn't want others tosee him that way either.

At the Washington premiere, Reevewas reluctant even to be photographednext to the life-sized Superman postersdisplayed around the building. He had

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lost half of the forty pounds that he'dgained for the role, and had taken awinter hiatus from his strenuous exercis-ing regimen. So far, he says, he's beenable to sort out who he is from who theSuperman character is. But, the maga-zine covers still picture him as Super-man, not Christopher Reeve.

"I 'm not kidding myself," he said. "Tothe public I'll be Superman until provenotherwise. To me, I'm not. And Γmpleased that the scripts Γm getting, fromall studios, are offers for me as an actor,not a symbol."

Reeve is scheduled for ten to twelvemore weeks of filming for Superman II,which may be released by next Christ-mas. Producers Ilya Salkind and PierreSpengler say they have plans for up tofive "Supermovies" and would like Reeveto be in all of them. So far, however, hehas not committed himself beyond thefirst two.

"We'll have to see how it goes," Reevesaid. "If they come up with good scriptsand Γm available, we might work some-thing out. But with two pictures—thecurrent one and the sequel—I think I'veabout done it. Superman has given me afantastic opportunity if I treat it as justthat—not a lifetime in the same costumeand cape."

Upstairs at the Kennedy Center onopening night, Reeve's mother was wait-ing for him to finish his marathon ofinterviews. It had been one of many longdays for him. In the morning he had metwith East Coast movie critics at the Fair-fax Hotel. A limousine ride to the Water-gate to get dressed for the premiere.Then after the show, another round ofinterviews for radio and television.

"Chris's grandmother was thinking ofsubscribing to a clipping service for himas a Christmas present," Mrs. Johnsonsaid, "but she decided against it. Thereprobably wouldn't have been room tostore all the clippings."

At 1 in the morning Reeve was stillon his feet, talking about the movie—"where every day on the set was likeopening night on Broadway.... I've beenvery lucky in my early career," he said,"to have worked with stars likeKatharine Hepburn, Charleton Heston,and Marlon Brando."

After the Superman sequel, Reevesaid, he will consider other movieoffers—but would also like to return toBroadway or regional theater. His desireto go back to live theater—despite thesuccess of his first major movie—is per-fectly understandable, according totheater instructor Haarstick. "To anactor," she says, "being on stage before alive audience is the quintessential

experience. There's a sense of quality totheater life. Everyone wants to be the newOlivier," she said.

Of course, had it not been for theSuperman role, Reeve might not be con-templating a return to live theater; hemight never have left it. Try as he mightto separate himself from the part that isgiving him so much publicity, he'll prob-ably never be able to do so completely—

at least as far as the public is concerned.And even he admits as much when heallows himself to lapse—if only jok-ingly—into Superman talk: "I t takestwenty years to make an actor, and Γmhalfway there now. But who knows?Maybe some day I'll end up going to ahome for old Supermen and playingshuffleboard."

Enter HamletBy Ann E. Bernitz '79

In its almost one-hundred-year old his-tory, theater at Cornell has never offereda production of Hamlet. Why? Whatcould possibly keep connoisseurs andscholars of the dramatic arts from indul-ging in a performance of one of theater'sgreatest tragedies? At Cornell the rea-sons are twofold. First, the popular ex-planation is that a production of Hamleton the university level anywhere is a seri-ous undertaking. "I t is a deeply complexplay which requires a lead actor ofamazing ability and strength," com-ments Prof. Richard Shank, chairman,theater arts. These actors are not avail-able in great multitudes. Second, Cornelltheater in particular has shied away fromthe classics in favor of contemporary,experimental, or avant garde theater.This trend was especially true in the timewhen Prof. Alexander Drummond, GradΌ9-Ί5, chaired the Department ofSpeech and Drama.

The "pre-Drummond" Cornell theaterlacked cohesiveness. It consisted of aseries of drama clubs, each of which fiz-zled out when a more popular one wasformed. The first of these clubs was theCascadilla Dramatic Association, whichwas organized in 1880. The only theaterat that time was in what is now Casca-dilla Hall, and was established andfunded by Goldwin Smith. She Stoops toConquer by Oliver Goldsmith, per-formed in the same year, was Cornell'sfirst theatrical production.

The next theatrical organization wasThe Masque, which was founded in 1890and had a relatively long life. It lasteduntil 1926 when it surrendered gallantlyto the rising Cornell Dramatic Club bybequeathing $5,500 to the advancementof the dramatic arts, with special atten-tion to be paid to playwrighting and

experimental productions. The DramaticClub was organized in 1909 through theefforts of Prof. James A. Winans, chair-man of public speaking. The club's firstaccomplishment was Henrik Ibsen'sEnemy of the People.

A few years later, in 1912, AlexanderDrummond became director of publicspeaking and Cornell theater began itsreal growth spurt. Drummond was ex-tremely active in the department and wasfamous both inside and outside the wallsof Cornell for his contributions to theperforming arts. In 1917, Drummondrevamped Goldwin Smith B, a commonlecture hall, into a theater. It wasn'toptimum, but at least the club had aplace of its own.

Finally, in 1925 a great thing came topass for the Cornell dramatic arts. Thefirst central student union, WillardStraight Hall, opened, complete with areal theater. An information bookletclaimed the theater to be "one of themost modern amateur theaters in ourEastern colleges." The theater was chris-tened on November 26, 1925 with a pro-duction of The Contrast by Royall Tyler,the first social comedy written and pro-duced in America.

The little theater was a definite im-provement over the previous makeshiftestablishments of the Dramatic Club. Itwas luxuriously equipped with a sceneshop, makeup and dressing rooms, andsoft seats for the audience. The wallswere elegantly decorated by J. MonroeHewlitt with murals of the Greek trage-dies on the left wall and scenes fromShakespearean plays on the right. Inter-estingly enough, one of the Shakespear-ean murals was, and is, of Act I, Scene 5in Hamlet when the Ghost says toHamlet, "Know, thou noble youth, the

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