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The Company He Keeps

The Gamm has always been edgy, entertaining and innovative. Now with two prestigious awards in two years, the theater and its director, Tony Estrella, are finally getting the attention they deserve.

Photography by Dana Smith

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Tony Estrella can’t recall an epiphany, a telling moment in life when he knew he wanted to become an actor.

Well, there was that one time when he was eleven and he’d taped and memorized Al Pacino’s fabled “You’re out of order!” scenery-chewing rant from ...And Justice For All. But he just loved movies and words and the sweet dance of actors like Pacino using them.

“You hear actors say how they love guys like Pacino and De Niro because they looked like us rather than old movie star types,” says the actor/director Estrella, twenty-seven  years later.

He laughs when he recalls barking Pacino’s words in his room. It wasn’t a Travis Bickle-in-the-mirror, you-talkin-to-me? moment. It was a kid wowed by great acting, or as he says, “the alone-by-myself, no-guts-to-show-anyone-else time.”

He’s shown plenty since. From 1996 he’s been at the Sandra Feinstein-Gamm Theatre in Pawtucket, the artistic director since 2002, doing edgy theater that has earned the Gamm two coveted Elliot Norton Awards in the past two years and respect from Boston reviewers, including the Boston Globe’s Louise Kennedy, who called the Gamm “a vital player on the New England stage.” Earlier this year, Estrella was named the Pawtucket Foundation’s Person of the Year. He also does occasional TV and movie work, including a short, explosive scene in the Martin Scorsese-directed The Departed.

Estrella is an intense, opinionated, politically left-leaning man with a keen underlying sense of humor, purpose, irony and decency. He discovered acting late, his junior year at URI.

“You come to it when you come to it,” he shrugs one day as he sits in the shadow of the set of The Scarlet Letter, the company’s last show for the 2009 season. “Unlike other arts, like ballet and singing, this is probably the one you don’t need to start early.”
He is not one to use cliches and apologizes when he does, saying that acting, like wine, gets better with age.

“Even though I came to it a little later,” he says with sincere modesty, “I think I caught up pretty quickly.”

strella had a normal upbringing, first in Pawtucket, then Smith eld. He was a typical kid, working all sorts of crummy jobs, he says, including at a place in Smithfield that made ski goggles, at a Cumberland Farms, at a mall, in a nursing home kitchen. One of the worst was at Rocky Point, running the Enterprise ride, a horrible, rotating, spinning contraption that made work a living — and messy — hell for operators like Estrella.

“People were always throwing up in that thing,” he says, wincing at the memory. “The saying was if there’s blue sky and you feel rain, run for cover.”

His best, albeit lowest-paying, jobs were in bookstores — “you make less than actors” — reading anything he could, more so when he got to college.

“High school was well meaning but a well-meaning center for conformity and half truths and lies,” Estrella says. “You’re force- fed a lot of things and critical thought is not part of the process. You’re opened up to a host of new ideas in college.”

Estrella is, if nothing else, intense about… everything.

“If he has an opinion, it’s a passionate one,” says Judith Swift, a director herself and professor of communication studies and theater at URI, who first taught and has since remained close with Estrella. “I love that he’s so absolutely passionate about things, but not stubbornly so. He checks it out, does his research and forms a strong opinion.”

She first took note of Estrella hanging around the theater lobby at URI, chatting with him about books, learning of his love of Shakespeare and convincing him to take a Shakespeare class.

“It was very clear right away that he got it,” Swift says. “And not just the language, but the psychological machinations as well. He’s very quick, very savvy, and he combines that street smartness with intellectual acuity and that’s rare. You see that and the passion and all the pieces are there for someone to be a terrific actor.”

His first URI play was Comedy of Errors, playing Doctor Pinch, and Estrella smiles as he calls it “this kinda weird, half-assed magician…that experience helped me admit to myself what I really wanted to do.”

Swift has worked with Estrella on many things, and one of her favorites was directing him in The Rise and Fall of Little Voice, where he played a sad, socially inept repairman.

“That’s not an easy place to go for someone like Tony,” she says. “He’s got those Clooneyesque looks, so to melt into the background isn’t easy. He could not have been more effective in that role.”

Jennifer Madden is Estrella’s life partner. The two bought a home in Cranston, making it easy for Estrella to run to work —  literally — on many days, a prime way the trim young man stays that way. Madden is a lecturer at Wheaton College and will occasionally bristle when people talk about Estrella’s intensity.

“Sometimes they say it like it’s a bad thing, but he’s just so incredibly passionate about what he does, which I admire very much,” she says. “It’s amazing to me how he cares so much about the theater and makes sure other people get parts, picking a season and having something for all actors, something they can sink their teeth into.”

Estrella’s not a possessive actor or director, opening the process to all involved. “Tony’s directed me and he’s terrific, knowledgeable and collaborative,” says actor Richard Donelly, husband of Trinity Rep actress Phyllis Kay. “If you have something you’re working on as an actor, like most good directors  he’ll stop and talk about it.”

A misconception about the seemingly serious Estrella is that he’s humorless. “People are surprised that he’s also an amazing comic actor,” Madden says. “He makes me laugh every single day.” He’s been busy not just at the Gamm, but doing occasional TV or movie work; he played the young Vincent Barberra on episodes of the TV series “Brotherhood,” which is set in Rhode Island, and a short scene with craggy-faced actor Tommy Lee Jones in The Company Men, a movie to be released later this year.

Watching Estrella act is like observing a chameleon. In a “Law & Order” episode, he plays a very prim and proper research scientist. At the Gamm in Awake and Sing!, a Clifford Odets classic, he’s Moe Axelrod, a gum-chewing, tight-jawed, bitter WWI veteran with a missing leg and a misogynist attitude who evolves into a vastly more complex, harder-to-figure person. In the Gamm’s Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, he’s well cast as the handsome, deeply troubled Brick Pollitt, evoking a raw, wounded emotion that no amount of liquor can drown.

And then there’s his four-minute big-screen debut in The Departed, so different an experience from acting in front of a theater audience. A movie actor performs for one set of eyes — the camera’s —and ignores the  dozens of people hovering around, the lights and the mikes dangling overhead.

“It’s like Disney to a kid, a film set is its own world,” he says. “Everything is possible there. You create a crazy, fake world.”

In The Departed, he’s bitch-slapped by Alec Baldwin. “That scene wasn’t in the script. They asked me later if I wanted to do it and if I wanted a stunt double,” he says. “I said I’m doing this. So they padded me up and I got slammed into the wall. It was great.”

Absolutely nothing in his youth foretold his becoming an actor. The only acting in the family was the very minor part his mother, Donna Rae, had as a non-speaking extra in John Wayne’s The Green Berets when she was visiting a relative at Fort Benning.

“In his third year at URI, he called and said he was going to be in a play,” she says. “I was dumbfounded, and said okay. He got the bug, went onto the Trinity Rep Conservatory and got some wonderful training.”

And nothing could have prepared her for a scene in The Pillowman at the Gamm where Estrella’s character is shot to death, loudly and in a decidedly sanguinary fashion.

“I knew he was going to get shot, but they put this bag over his head and shot him and all this blood’s coming out,” she says. “I lost it. I’m in the front row screaming ‘Oh my God! Oh my God.’ ”

“I must not have warned her,” Estrella admits later. “She’s seen me die on stage before, perhaps not so violently.”