Madeline Kahn (51 page)

We’re left with her work, and with questions about the paths she might have followed. The show
Cosby
completed its fourth season without her, then ceased production by mutual agreement between Cosby and the network. Had Madeline survived, the show might have run longer, and Cosby’s pressure on the writers to improve Pauline’s character might have resulted in the anticipated romance between her and the detective played by Robert Klein. Her commitment to the show would have jeopardized a return to the stage that was already under discussion in 1998, when she participated in two staged readings (one private, one public) of Jerry Herman’s
Dear World
at the Roundabout Theater. An adaptation of Giraudoux’s
The Madwoman of Chaillot
, directed by the company’s associate artistic director, Scott Ellis,
Dear World
starred Chita Rivera in a role originated by Angela Lansbury. Madeline took the supporting role of Gabrielle, the Madwoman of Montmartre, with Debra Monk as Constance, the Madwoman of the Fleamarket. “In that trio, she absolutely set the tone,” Ellis remembers. “I remember looking and thinking, ‘That’s where it needs to lie. The Madeline Kahn world.’ Because it’s such a wacked-out world to begin with. She brought her wackiness to it, with this firm belief in what she was saying and that what she was talking about was the truth.” The public reading, on June 14, was her final theatrical appearance, thirty-three years after she made her New York debut in
Kiss Me, Kate
—and thirty-five years after
The Madwoman of Chaillot
led to the loss of her drama scholarship.

An extensively revised book by David Thompson and the stellar cast (also including David Garrison, Audra McDonald, and Mario Cantone) gave rise to hopes of a full production of
Dear World
at the Roundabout, though Ellis harbored doubts about the strength of the source material. Gabrielle has only one solo number, one duet, a quartet, and some ensemble singing. The less demanding yet rewarding assignment might have appealed to Madeline, as would the chance to work more with friends like Rivera and Monk. As Ellis observes, Madeline wouldn’t have agreed to the second reading of
Dear World
if she hadn’t enjoyed the first.
Had she participated in a full-blown theatrical production, she might have known—at long last—good luck in a musical in New York.

Marlena Malas, Madeline’s last voice teacher, suggests that Madeline’s operatic days were behind her, though she continued to work on Offenbach songs. Nevertheless, offers might have come her way. In 1995, conductor Patrick Summers suggested Madeline for the role of Orlovsky in a revival of
Die Fledermaus
, the vehicle for his Metropolitan Opera debut three years later. Casting Madeline “would have been pretty out there” for the Met at the time, Summers observes, and the idea went nowhere. Orlovsky is a short, comic role, highlighted by an undemanding aria, “Chacun à son goût,” that would have suited Madeline. If the Met had made the offer, Summers believes she would have accepted it. In subsequent years, he took on leadership positions with opera companies in San Francisco and Houston, which presented several works with roles appropriate to Madeline’s talents. Summers surely would have reached out to her. Recently, the Met has extended invitations to a few Broadway and “crossover” stars. Given conductor James Levine’s admiration for her, Madeline might have made her debut after all.

Beyond opera, a wealth of other musical roles was still available to her—including those being written by her friend Michael Cohen. Enterprising producers might have cast Madeline as Liza Elliott in Weill’s
Lady in the Dark
, or in the speaking role of Amanda Wingfield in Williams’s
The Glass Menagerie
—after André Bishop produced
The Matchmaker
for her, of course. On film, Madeline surely would have tried to capitalize on her two final successes. Pixar’s
A Bug’s Life
(1998) featured her as the faded beauty, Gypsy, in a tender, almost melancholy performance that showed her range—and for once, she didn’t have to worry about how she looked. She’d done voiceover work since the 1980s, and with the booming market for animated films, she’d have had opportunity to do more as the century turned. And she’d surely have sought roles as good as that of Alice Gold. The acclaim she received in response to
Judy Berlin
suggests that many people, both in Hollywood and in independent cinema, would have looked at her with renewed interest. John Cameron Mitchell wanted her for the film adaptation of
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
, and he might have created roles specifically for Madeline. Moreover, as she grew older, she had the potential to become an American Maggie Smith, and as much in demand as her British counterpart, with her expert timing and delivery. It’s easy to imagine Madeline in an American
Downton Abbey
or
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
—or in
Arrested Development
or
30 Rock
. “I once said to her, ‘You are the detached retina in the eye
of American comedy,’” Joanna Gleason remembers. “There was always something off-center and wonderful about her.”

Now it’s left to her creative heirs to explore the paths on which she set out. It’s notable that, unlike many other actors, Madeline did leave an artistic legacy. She was correct when she wrote that, by standing out, she “set an example for others.”
²
Kristin Chenoweth, another diminutive dynamo with classical training, has enjoyed success on Broadway and television, and she cites Madeline as an inspiration as she takes on roles like Cunegonde and Lily Garland.
³
Another Broadway star, Kelli O’Hara, has pursued roles that are less comedic, but she, too, has classical training, and she was slated to make her Met debut in Lehár’s
The Merry Widow
while this book was in production. O’Hara says she’s inspired by Madeline’s richly varied performing career. Young singers see Madeline the same way—whether they’re like baritone Wes Mason, who performs both musical comedy and opera, or like Marjorie Owens, who sings the most demanding soprano roles. One finds many of Madeline’s most devoted admirers among performers.

Another part of the legacy is “Stand Up for Madeline,” an annual benefit for the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund, where John Hansbury serves as co-president of the executive committee. Launched by Hansbury and presented at Carolines comedy club in New York City, the benefit features a parade of performers doing something Madeline never did: standup comedy. “She was a pure actress; it’s a different skill set from what I do,” says Joy Behar, who, like Robert Klein, has participated in most of these events. Though Behar knew Madeline only slightly, she wanted to “Stand Up” not only for her, but also for Gilda Radner and for a friend who survived the disease. The cause matters. “Women are just at the mercy,” she says. “There aren’t even signs to tell you you have it.”

Yet for Behar as for so many others, Madeline’s most important legacy is her movies. “It’s a contribution,” she says. “We’re still watching Bette Davis movies and Clark Gable and Cary Grant, all the great artists in the movies. She’s part of that group. She’s one of those people that you’ll always see and think, ‘That was wonderful.’”

That assessment would have meant a great deal to Madeline. For her, work was always the one sure thing, the constant in her life. Other people might lie, other people might leave. Even Madeline might fudge, insisting that she was 5-foot-3 when no one she knew believed it. But her characters were always predicated in
truth
, the word to which she returned again and again. We’ll never know to what purposes she might have applied the truths she learned late in life—how her relationship
with her mother might have matured, whether she’d even have wanted to continue performing. But we can see clearly that, growing beyond a childhood of anxiety and solitude, as an adult she created something enduring and solid, something that could be shared with others, though it remained uniquely hers. As Carol Kane observes, “There’s nobody like her, is there?”

Jeffrey Kahn has been an ideal partner in this biography, encouraging every avenue of inquiry, making available every resource he had, and helping me to piece together the many gaps in Madeline’s records. After Jef and his family, no person has been more necessary to the completion of this book or more generous to its author than my beloved friend Kara Lack. I also thank my parents for their loving support, and Betty Aberlin and Walter Willison, whose encouragement and infinite helpfulness have guided me almost daily for seven years.

The Family:

Paula Kahn, Hiller Kahn, John W. Hansbury, Eliza Kahn, Jean Barry, Ted Barry, Virginia Lewisohn Kahn, Dan Kahn, Sarah Kahn, Juliette DeFord, Heidi Berthoud, Robyn Wolfson Larsen, Gerri Bohn Gerson, and Jenny Hopkins.

Friends, Colleagues, Critics, and Admirers:

Betty Aberlin, Rita Abrams Edge, Robert Allan Ackerman, Jane Alexander, Edward Asner, Evalyn Baron, Barbara Barrie, Fred Barton, Carol J. Bawer, Joy Behar, George Bettinger, Deborah Birch, André Bishop, Peter Bogdanovich, Charlotte Booker, Eileen Brennan, Mel Brooks, Scott Burkholder, Carol Burnett, Bill Butler, Black-eyed Susan (Carlson), Martin Charnin, Maris Clement, George Coe, Michael Cohen, Shaun Considine, Joan Copeland, Maddie Corman, Bill Cosby, John Cullum, Blythe Danner, Dorothy Frank Danner, Julie Dretzin, Scott Ellis, Matthew Epstein, Michael Feingold, Richard Fredericks, Joseph Feury, Victor Garber, Paul Gemignani, Joanna Gleason, Bette Glenn, Amanda Green, Carol Greenberg, Joel Grey, Jeffrey Haddow, Aaron Harnick, Roy Harris, Michael
Hayward-Jones, Marilyn Horne, George S. Irving, Gail Jacobs, Kristen Johnston, Michael Karm, Robert Klein, Kevin Kline, Arthur Korant, John Kramer, Miles Kreuger, Joey Landwehr, Lawrence Leritz, William Lewis, J. D. Lobue, Jonathan Lynn, Brandon Maggart, Marlena Malas, Caryn Mandabach, Wes Mason, Donna McKechnie, Lynne Meadow, Eric Mendelsohn, Audra Moran, Tiffany Nixon, Kelli O’Hara, Ryan O’Neal, Marjorie Owens, Thomas Pasatieri, Sheldon Patinkin, Joey Patton, Steven Paul, Bobby Pearce, Austin Pendleton, Maurice Peress, Harold Prince, Lee Roy Reams, Julius Rudel, Nicholas Sabato Jr., Chris Sarandon, Tom Shales, Ally Sheedy, Jonathan Sheffer, Cybill Shepherd, Rosie Shuster, Kenny Solms, Richard Stilwell, Teresa Stratas, Daniel Sullivan, Patrick Summers, Alan Titus, Lily Tomlin, Frederica von Stade, Gene Wilder, Walter Willison, Darren Keith Woods, and Mary Woronov.

Research Assistance:

I am profoundly grateful to Kevin Daly, my principal assistant. In a less official capacity, Elise Goyette and Michael Benchetrit also made heroic contributions, and Ashley Marie Piar helped to locate photographs and other archival material.