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Time Out
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Smash star Brooks Ashmanskas on audiences, reviews and playing gay men
Brooks Ashmanskas has been doing his thing so well for so long that it's easy to take him for granted. In a Broadway career that has spanned nearly 30 years and included 16 shows, he has been one of the Great White Way's most valuable musical-comedy players, with a speciality in playing flamboyant gay men. Nobody does it better, and this past season found him lending his talents to two different productions: a revival of the fairy-tale musical Once Upon a Mattress, in which he played the scheming court wizard, and the new backstage tuner Smash, in which he stars as the stressed-out director of a struggling Marilyn Monroe biomusical called Bombshell. Smash has earned him a Tony nomination (his third) in the category of Best Featured Actor in a Musical, but his character, Nigel, is many ways the show's central role. That in itself is remarkable, especially on the heels of his leading performance in 2018's The Prom as Barry Glickman, a vain actor on a misguided mission to enlighten midwestern homophobes. The kind of person Ashmanskas has mastered playing—a gay man who is highly theatrical but not a drag queen—has long been relegated to the margins; it is a sign of changing times, but also of Ashmankas's prodigious skills, that this type can now be trusted to hold center stage. The actor deserves more credit for that than he has received (or than, ever self-effacing, he would probably accept): It is partly thanks to the strength and the brilliant colors that he brings to it, and has brought to it for decades, that the once-humble pansy has come to full flower on Broadway. We chatted with him recently about Smash and other highlights of his career. In advance of the Tony Awards on June 8, Time Out has conducted in-depth interviews with select nominees. We'll be rolling out those interviews every day this week; the full collection to date is here. How did you get involved in Smash? The writers contacted me, so it was simple; I just answered a phone call and said, 'Yeah, of course!' I had worked with Bob Martin before, and I had known Rick Elice for years, and I love both of them, so it was an easy yes. This was right when the pandemic was opening up a little bit, and they had written this musical version of Smash. There was no director yet—it was just to see what they had, basically, for the producers and people like that. It was maybe two days: We got together one day and then read it for them the next day. Basically, they handed it to me—which was foolish, I thought, but even more foolish was that they stayed with me over the years as we developed the project to where it is now. You match the role so perfectly, though. It feels like it was written for you. I think maybe it became that way. I really don't know if they were thinking that initially. But once I was doing it, you could tell—in the rewrites that would come, and the things that we would collaborate on—that they were very open throughout the process. Even when [director Susan] Stroman and the rest of the creative team joined in, they were all so great about it. They weren't very precious about anything; we just all wanted to make the best, most entertaining show possible. So if I came up with something in a rehearsal and it worked, we would keep it in. I've been thinking a lot lately about an underexplored phenomenon in musical theater: the degree to which the original cast can stamp itself in the DNA of a piece that's being developed—how the piece eventually gets frozen and the role ends up reflecting the strengths and style of whoever played it originally. I think it depends on the writers and the other people in charge. It's not even about them being too limiting; it's just how they're running the show. If they're really trying to honor what the writer's initial intentions were, and sticking to what they wrote as the Bible—and that's not necessarily a bad thing—it would be less so, other than just putting their words through your own filter. To some degree it's always going to be you as well. But with most of the things I've worked on, and certainly new work, it has been a relatively, if not wildly, collaborative effort. It has to be: It's such a collaborative medium. There are so many things that have to come together and hopefully it's on the same page. And you have a certain persona as an actor—in the roles you tend to play and the way that you tend to play them. When you have a strong personal style, maybe that has the potential to make a stronger stylistic impression on the piece. Yeah, but especially on Broadway, because there's so much money at stake, a lot of that depends on what you're allowed to do or what you're asked to do. Not that I'm like, 'Oh, I have a lot of range'—Who cares? Everyone does. But if I'm not doing a Broadway show, which I'm often not, I go work somewhere else, and if you look at the stuff I've done regionally, it's a much more rangy situation. I'm not always asked to be the silly and perhaps effeminate comic. But that's what I'm asked to do on Broadway, and why would anyone say no to doing a Broadway show? I've been very pleased and very fortunate to be able to do it. And to do it a lot! You did two musicals this year on Broadway, which is very rare. Insane. It never works out that way, but this time it did. It was just timing. It was great. Because after The Prom was the pandemic, and I wasn't lucky enough to be on Broadway for quite a while. Which is five years ago, almost six now. Which is crazy. In fairness, though, for a lot of that time Broadway wasn't happening at all. Right, exactly. It couldn't go on without me. [ Laughs.] The musical version of Smash is so different from the TV show—it's much closer to 42nd Street now, with Nigel as a gay Julian Marsh. Your character in The Prom, Barry, was another theater queen of a roughly similar type. To you, what distinguishes them from each other? That certainly crossed my mind even when we were first reading Smash —and one of the writers also wrote The Prom, so of course the similarities are there. But there's something about Nigel in Smash that's much darker than Barry was. Barry was just a big-hearted, loving guy who happened to be gay and funny, hopefully, but Nigel is a much more troubled character, and he is certainly troubled by what happens to him and his production throughout the piece. That's what I tried to glom onto: the put-upon-ness of the character in the situations he has found himself in, and how he goes about using the tools he has, which are usually his sense of humor. He also seems so much more competent than Barry. I think so, definitely. Dee Dee, Beth Leavel's character in The Prom, was a two-time Tony winner, and she carried Barry with her. And he had a Drama Desk that was kind of half broken. Even though he was a successful actor, he was not as successful. Whereas Nigel is Casey Nicholaw or Susan Stroman—he's someone who has worked a lot as a big-time director of Broadway musicals. And in The Prom, Barry creates his own mess, but Nigel is the only one working on Bombshell who has a real possibility of fixing it in some way. Exactly. And it turns out that he's right. He's saying, Let's make this bright and celebratory. We can't go too deep with this show. We can't go down the road of having her die at the end and all that dark stuff. Ironically, that's part of the challenge of making Smash into a musical at all, out of the existing material. The songs are great, but they're also partly tongue-in-cheek so it's hard to imagine the musical-within-a-musical that they come together to create. It's a delicate road. Like, are we to believe that this actress can do 18 numbers? But tone-wise, I think the way in which the songs are presented—only in rehearsal or in a performance situation, until the very end—keeps the show about the process. It's not really about Bombshell. It's about these people trying to put on a show. It's 42nd Street. It's The Bandwagon. One thing that's striking for me about your roles in both The Prom and Smash is that characters like them have been around for generations, but previously as decidedly supporting characters—the nellie, the nance. But in these two shows, they're the central characters. Yes! Very much so, and I think that's a good thing. I would even go further to say that—mostly because I'm the one who's played them—they're also not the leading man–looking type of person, either. I'm of a certain age, I have a certain type of physique. This is what I look like. And isn't that wonderful? [ Laughs.] But I think that's also something great about that. Some of the response I've gotten, during The Prom and even now this, from people my age or older who see a sort of representation—I never saw that coming. These older gay guys who are like, 'Oh my God, when I was growing up, if I had a Barry or a Nigel, to see that kind of representation and that kind of humor.' And I think that's a good thing. I do. Oh, I do too. These conversations so often get reduced to the question of whether characters are good role models or something, whether they're inspirational. And I think that's the wrong way to look at it. It's just that they're there, and they're human beings. The fact that they are not perfect is better. I agree, that's what representation is. And you see it reduced. There is not a conversation that does not get reduced now—everything is reduced to something without degrees, unfortunately I think. That's why I bring up how I look or how old I am as a leading character in a show. It's lovely in that it opens up degrees for viewing, conversation, response, whatever. Just the fact of it is significant. I think that's what I mean, too. The fact of it is good. Whether you hate it or love it, who cares? It's there. It's about the fact of it. You're giving one of my favorite performances of the year in this show. I'm also talking this week to Justina Machado, who's fantastic in Real Women Have Curves— And she's fabulous, too. Her fabulousness comes through. I love when that happens—it just all works. I'm bracketing these two performances together because they're a kind of masterful musical-comedy performance where everything is funny and the audience is so with you that you can take your time or go faster or whatever you want because you have full control of the room. Which is great. It's so important with comedy, because if you don't have control—if you're not conducting the orchestra of the audience—it's not going to work. They don't get to do it. And if they do, it's trouble. Again, I have to go to the writing: When you have a piece that's written in a way that makes you capable of orchestrating the room, it's a gift. It makes it more fun, and easier—even when it's hard, it's easier. It's a real gift, this kind of role. It doesn't come around often. How much does the audience response vary from performance to performance? I've been onstage a fair amount and that's still so mysterious to me. Yeah. If we knew how to figure that out, we'd follow that formula and there would be nothing but hits going on. I talk about it all the time, too much probably—backstage, even during the show. The short answer is that it's wildly different every show. You do a Wednesday, for instance, when probably it's a little older out there and a little quieter. And it's not that they're not enjoying it—they just don't want to let you know that. But then on Wednesday night, you're giving the same basic performance and they won't stop screaming with laughter. So I have to believe it is the molecular structure of the room. It can't just be them, and it can't just be me. It is just what is going on. And so there's no way to pre-prepare in a way, other than knowing what you're doing. And it's a surprise every moment. And you can't get too nervous or too in your head about what the response is, especially in comedy. That's something I admire so much in people who can be funny on stage, which is something that I usually can't do. People ask all the time, 'How do you do it eight times a week? How do you do a long run? Don't you want to put a gun in your mouth?' And of course, the answer is yes, sometimes. But the truth of it is, that's what keeps it interesting, or even keeps you awake during it. I can do it hundreds of times, but every single time I'm trying to figure it out: Like, I know that this line over here has to get a laugh. So if they're not where they need to be to get to that place, we gotta get 'em there! And that's what makes it interesting and athletic in a way, and tiring and tiresome, but also inspiring and fun. It's everything. And you're doing it within a quite regimented structure of existing writing and blocking. So you have limited tools. If you're doing a standup comedy, you can feel things out or chop things up as needed when you feel the energy moving. Yeah, it's limiting. But it also makes it all that more important to be open to having to do it a different way every single time. Which is hard and scary and vulnerable and all that stuff, but you have to be open to that or it's not gonna work. I just did an interview with Jessica Hecht — That bitch! [ Laughs.] I love Jessica so much. I've worked with her a number of times and it just brightens up my life every time I see her. She's a wildly unique individual. A totally free person on stage and in life, but she's also very careful. I mean that in a good way, not in a yucky way. She's full of care in what she's saying and what she's doing. I love it. Same! But anyhow, we went through some of her past Broadway experiences as I'd be curious to do that with you too, if you don't mind. Your first show was almost 30 years ago in the Matthew Broderick revival of How to Succeed, right? Yes, I replaced as Bud Frump. I didn't do it originally. But I felt a connection to it even when I was auditioning—and the director, Des McAnuff, really got what I did and supported it, which was lovely. That's not always the case, especially then, because nobody knew who I was to any degree. So that was very comforting. And Wayne Cilento, the choreographer—you'd never know it now, but when I was young, I was a dancer. Mostly tap, but I did a lot of dancing. And I think Wayne was surprised that this funny guy who was doing this role could do this dancing. I know he really pushed for me to get that part. It was hard, because it was quick. I was young and was a big part—the bad guy of that show in a way—and I only had five or six days to learn it, so it was scary. I can't even remember my opening night of that show. There was one section where I was all alone on stage in the lights, and I had an out-of-body experience—I didn't know what I was doing. But I did it. It was very exciting, and it was certainly a huge moment for me. Was Matthew still in it at that point? He had gone off to make a movie—I think it was The Cable Guy— so he had a break, and John Stamos replaced him. There was a week between John Stamos and Matthew coming back, and that's when I went in, at the same time as the woman who was going to play Rosemary, the female lead, who was a girl named Sarah Jessica Parker. This was before they got married. And so we had a week with the understudy, the wonderful John Bolton, and we rehearsed with Matthew a couple times during that week. And then we all did it together for the last six or seven months of the show. I would love to have seen the two of you do The Producers. I feel like that would've been an interesting mix. Wow, yeah. I love working with Matthew. I would drop everything to work with him. We've done a couple shows along the way, and I just adore him. I adore both of them. You did do The Producers eventually, but as Carmen Ghia. I did, and by that time, Matthew was out. It was years after it opened. I went in with Jonathan Freeman as Roger, who I also did How to Succeed with. Those were the only two times I replaced. I don't know if I'm always the best at that—I might be a little too individual sometimes, and that can be tricky, honestly, for people who have an existing show like The Producers, which was a huge smash. That machine was going. It's like Hamilton today: If you go into Hamilton, it's like, 'That bullet goes there,' you know? You have to fit in. I'm not sure I'm the best at that, but I did the best I could. There's a patch there— The Producers, Gypsy, Little Me —where you track seems to be a certain kind of snotty or ineffectual assistant. The second banana. As we were talking about earlier with Smash, that sort of put-upon quality is something I trained well for. Especially in Little Me, where every character I played, Martin Short was just screaming at me—'Rararararararararar'—and I'd just be like, 'Yes, father' or whatever. But then you got to do Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me. Yes. When we did Little Me, we became friendly very quickly, so Marty's show came about because of our relationship, and because we knew we worked well together. Marty's been a formidable person in my life—mostly as a friend, but he's also a parental, mentor-y kind of guy. He's very smart and wildly funny, obviously, and so sweet on stage, so generous. That really proved true on Fame Becomes Me. It was his show, but he let the rest of us who were in it shine. He needed that. He was very bright about that. And that show was a great, fun thing to do. And then came Bullets Over Broadway, which ended up a little bit of— —a miss. Not for everyone. My colleague David Cote, for example, liked it very much at the time. But it was hard to compete with a movie that was so memorable and successful. I agree. It had a lot going against it that maybe I didn't realize as we were going along. And I think people had a problem with the fact that there wasn't an original score. But I loved being a part of it. I loved that group of people and it was a great part. During the workshop and rehearsals and previews, it was like, 'This is a hit!' And then we opened and—bomb. You could tell by the audience response the day after we opened. It's the only time I've experienced that. I don't think that it was a bomb, but it closed very quickly. Sadly. I loved doing it—it was a really fun show to do. But it just didn't connect. I have a complex relationship to this issue, needless to say, but I know that negative reviews can sometimes take the wind out of a show's sails. For the audience, at least, if not for the performers. I'm a little weird about reviews. I really am able to take them with a grain of salt. Obviously, on a personal level, it's nice when someone says nice things and it's not so lovely when they loathe you. But you can't give—no offense—you can't give it that much power. When you see a show, that's your day, your opinion, your unique evening. These things can't be taken as the gospel, end-all truth. No offense taken! I totally agree. So I don't have a problem with reading reviews. It also depends on one's investment in the piece. The Prom is a great example. We worked on that for almost a decade before it barely got to Broadway, so I was curious—just as someone who spent so much time on it—how it was received. And I was very pleased overall that people liked it and got the heart of it. But it's mostly about curiosity, from my point of view. I get that. I read what people say about me on the rare occasions that people say things about me, and I often find that frustrating, because it always seems to get something wrong. I don't just mean I disagree, I mean it's factually wrong. Absolutely. Even a good review, Adam, is sometimes…I mean, if I'm gonna be fully honest, which I am, even some of the nice things that were said about me in this performance I'm giving now are not the nice things I want them to say. You know, it's lovely and it's terrific, but it's also, like, ' That's what it is to them?' That kind of feeling. One show that I really liked that you were in, and that I wish had had a longer run, is Shuffle Along. Yeah, me too. Just the best. The subject matter of the piece, how it was presented—I just thought it was gold. And the process couldn't have been more lovely. Everyone was so wonderful and I'd been fans or friends with all of them for years; I'm such a fan of George [C. Wolfe]'s work, and to be able to work with him on that was a highlight of my life. Not to mention being the sole white person in that show: The experience of that, of being the minority for a change, was invaluable. So yes, I'm sorry that it didn't run longer as well—deeply sorry, because that's one I would like to still be doing. But it was great, honestly, that it happened at all and that I was allowed to be a part of it. I'll take those couple of months. Sometimes there are just those heartbreakers. One of my first great disappointments as a critic—a show I really loved that didn't get the response it deserved—was another George C. Wolfe show, Caroline, or Change. Which to this day is one of my very favorite musicals. Absolutely. Me, too. So great. On a list of the great shows of your life, as an audience member, that would be one of, like, five shows. But the thing about Shuffle Along is that that was a once-in-a-lifetime staging. I can't imagine it being done in high schools or regional theaters. It would be way too expensive. It was that group of people—it could only be those people, and mostly George. So it closed on Broadway and that's it. And the thing that hurts even more about Shuffle Along not having a longer life is that it was all about trying to say, 'These people should be remembered, but nobody knows this show because they were Black.' And what the show was saying came true again, in a way. But on the bright side: Thousands of people did get to see it who wouldn't have seen it otherwise. Yes. It happened. It happened, and that's incredible. In a way, that any show can happen on Broadway is incredible. It's a victory.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Pop Icon Kesha Says 'The System Is Broken' As She Launches Smash, A Fiverr-Style Music App Backed To Lead A Creative Revolution
Pop artist Kesha is expanding her influence beyond music and into the tech sector with last week's announcement of her new startup, Smash, a platform aimed at empowering music creators through collaboration, transparency, and rights protection. The initiative marks the artist's formal entrance into the startup world. Kesha, who recently regained ownership of her music and voice following a high-profile legal battle with her former producer, is seeking to rewrite the rules of an industry she calls deeply flawed, according to Wired. Don't Miss: 'Scrolling To UBI' — Deloitte's #1 fastest-growing software company allows users to earn money on their phones. Hasbro, MGM, and Skechers trust this AI marketing firm — 'After what I've gone through and seeing the things that I've seen, seeing that the system is really broken. It's gatekeeping by people that can do what they want,' Kesha told Wired in an interview. According to Kesha, Smash is envisioned as a 'LinkedIn for music creators' with a 'Fiverr-style marketplace' where artists can offer services, hire one another, and collaborate without giving up rights to their intellectual property. She emphasized to Wired that the platform will eliminate gatekeeping, offering musicians a space to network without needing third-party intermediaries. 'I want a place where artists and music makers of any kind can have community, they can collaborate, they can hire each other and retain all the rights to everything they create,' Kesha said. 'There's no gatekeeping of contacts.' According to Wired, the platform is currently in its seed funding stage, with no official launch date set. Trending: According to TechCrunch, Kesha has brought in Alan Cannistraro as Smash's chief technology officer. Cannistraro is a seasoned software engineer who spent 12 years at Apple (NASDAQ:AAPL), contributing to the development of early iOS apps. He later joined Meta Platforms (NASDAQ:META), where he created the popular Year-In-Review feature for Facebook. Cannistraro also previously founded the social video startup Rheo. His background in building user-centric software products positions Smash with a strong technical foundation, TechCrunch reports. The inspiration for Smash came to Kesha during what she described as a psychedelic experience that helped clarify her purpose. The app, she told Wired, is about 'building the next dimension' for creatives who are often underpaid, undervalued, or exploited by traditional music business structures. 'I want to make sure what happened to me never happens to anyone else again,' she arrives as the creator economy continues to grow. According to MIDiA Research, there were nearly 75.9 million music creators globally at the end of 2023, with that number expected to exceed 198.2 million by 2030. Along with Smash, Kesha is also preparing to release her sixth studio album, symbolically titled '.', under her own independent label, Kesha Records, on July 4. The timing coincides with her U.S. tour, which is her first as a fully independent artist, Wired reports. Backed by experienced engineering talent and informed by firsthand industry challenges, Smash may become a key player in reshaping how music creators connect, collaborate, and protect their rights. Read Next: Deloitte's fastest-growing software company partners with Amazon, Walmart & Target – Image: Shutterstock UNLOCKED: 5 NEW TRADES EVERY WEEK. Click now to get top trade ideas daily, plus unlimited access to cutting-edge tools and strategies to gain an edge in the markets. Get the latest stock analysis from Benzinga? This article Pop Icon Kesha Says 'The System Is Broken' As She Launches Smash, A Fiverr-Style Music App Backed To Lead A Creative Revolution originally appeared on © 2025 Benzinga does not provide investment advice. All rights reserved. Error in retrieving data Sign in to access your portfolio Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data Error in retrieving data
New York Times
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
How Megan Hilty, a Tony Nominee, Spends Her Show Days
For 20 hours a week, Megan Hilty is a self-obsessed, vindictive, fading movie star. Then she spends the rest of her time trying to make it up to everyone. Ms. Hilty, 44, known for her starring role in the NBC musical series 'Smash' and her turn as Glinda in 'Wicked' on Broadway, returned to the stage late last year as the aging-averse Madeline Ashton in a musical adaptation of the 1992 movie 'Death Becomes Her.' She has been nominated for the best actress in a musical Tony Award for the role, which she describes as the most physically demanding one she has undertaken. 'I'm not just going to work, singing and dancing, and that's it,' she said. 'It's way more involved than it seems.' But doing so meant uprooting her family from Los Angeles. 'It was a big ask,' she said. 'Not only did they leave their life as they knew it; I then basically left them, because my job is all-encompassing.' Making it up to them has meant being extra intentional with family time. 'Sunday nights are our family dinner night,' she said. 'The phone goes off and I'm theirs.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Economic Times
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Economic Times
Kesha seeks seed funding for her 'LinkedIn-like' startup
Kesha has branched out from being a chart-topping pop star into a businesswoman. The singer behind the 2010 hit Tik Tok is looking to raise seed funding for her social media startup, Smash. In an Instagram post earlier this week, Kesha unveiled Smash as a "new community-based platform to connect and protect music creators." The motto aligns with her eponymous music label, Kesha Records, which she launched in September last year. Kesha's Smash app and her record label find their origins in a darker past involving a bitter legal battle with her producer, Lukasz "Dr Luke" Gottwald, over a predatory record deal she signed as a teenager. The LinkedIn-style app is meant to help creators connect, with the option to offer their services, similar to freelancing platform Fiverr, Kesha said in an interview with Wired. The app will prioritise artists' right where they are not forced to part with rights to their creations. "I want a place where artists and music makers of any kind can have community, they can collaborate, they can hire each other and retain all the rights to everything they create," Kesha said. "There's no gatekeeping of contacts." Kesha has onboarded Alan Cannistraro as the chief technical officer (CTO) for Smash. He was behind some of the first iOS apps during his 12 years at Apple, before leaving to work at Facebook, where he built the Year-In-Review feature. He then went on to start a social video platform called Rheo.
Time of India
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Kesha seeks seed funding for her 'LinkedIn-like' startup
Synopsis Kesha, the popstar known for hits like "Tik Tok," is venturing into the tech world with Smash, a community-based platform designed to connect and protect music creators. Inspired by her own experiences with a predatory record deal, Smash aims to empower artists by providing a space for collaboration, hiring, and retaining full rights to their creations.
