Thoroughly Talented Meet Michael Mayer, the multifaceted director of "Thoroughly Modern Millie." CURT SCHLEIER Special to the Jewish News D 4414 1 0/ 8 2004 58 irector Michael Mayer recog- nized that Thoroughly Modern Millie, which opens a three- week run at Detroit's Fisher Theatre Oct. 12, had the makings of a hit early on in the creative process. "When I first started working on the show, I knew that it had the potential to be hugely successful," Mayer said. "Of course, there are no guarantees in this business or we'd all be wealthy and have shelves of Tony Awards to show of "But the central story of a young girl coming from Kansas to make her new life in the city in the 1920s was irre- sistible to me. Everyone can relate to it, and that moment in American history has been under-explored in musicals in an honest way." Ironically, the show's theme became a reality of sorts. While the play was being put together at California's La Jolla Playhouse, the lead dropped out. An unknown named Sutton Foster — who attended high school in Troy, Mich. — stepped in and became an overnight sen- sation. "When Sutton Foster first audi- tioned for us, I knew she had a mar- velous voice and seemed like a very nice girl," said Mayer. "But I had no clue about the real star quality and amazing gifts she had. It was only when she stepped in for the actress in our tryout in La Jolla that she demonstrated what she was capable of. She ended up taking over the role, and while we were still in La Jolla, I told the Broadway producers that I wanted her to play Millie in New York." The rest is theater history. Thoroughly Modern Millie went on to win six Tonys — including Best Musical and Best Actress in a Musical for Foster — and had a long, successful run on Broadway before beginning its national tour. But don't ask Mayer what the critics thought of the play. He hasn't read a review in almost 10 years. Back then, one of his productions — he doesn't mention the name — received really good reviews, even in the New York Times. In fact, the critic "sin- gled out several of my own personal contributions." But Mayer wasn't men- tioned by name. "So I thought [it] would be a good time to stop reading reviews. If my work can be praised like this without my name attached to it, then the reviews really have no meaning for me. And I just thought, '[Expletive] them!"' He can now afford to "expletive them." Mayer's been on quite a roll late- ly, including his helming a production of Arthur Miller's After the Fall that just played in New York and a recent film, A Home at the End of the World (starring Colin Farrell, Robin Wright Penn and Sissy Spacek), which opened over the summer. And while reviewers noted that World was Mayer's first film, he quickly points out that it's not true. He made his first film with a Super-8 camera he received as a bar mitzvah gift from his parents. Mayer, 44, was born in Washington, D.C., but raised in Rockville, Md. His father, Joseph, was "a hippie version of the old-fashioned Jewish socialist. He was anti-organized religion. He was a Philip Roth-type. In fact, Roth was his favorite writer. He also liked Henry Roth. "My father was a big reader. He was always encouraging me to read, interest- ingly enough a lot of Jewish writers: Saul Bellow, Singer and the two Roths." Mayer's mother, Louise, was more connected to her faith — her parents spoke Yiddish at home. But her son's upbringing was basically secular. The family celebrated Passover and Chanukah, but also Christmas. "We had a Christmas tree, but I thought of it as a secular holiday. To me, it was Santa Claus and Rudolph; it had nothing to do with Jesus," said Mayer. "I had no idea who Jesus was. Christmas was as American as Thanksgiving." . Like most kids growing up in the late `60s and early '70s, he rebelled. How? By insisting he go to Hebrew school. "I had to beg," he remembered. "It's hilari- ous. It's such a good story." Hence the bar mitzvah, the Super-8 camera and a production of The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia. Not the big screen version. The Michael Mayer production. . Mayer grew up in an era before video- tapes made films ubiquitous. Movies ran on the screens in the local movie house for months at a time. As a result, Mayer got most of his film "Thoroughly Modern Millie" director Michael Mayer: "I don't care if my work is loved or hated. I just want a passionate response." education from television and was par- ticularly moved by the annual showings of The Wizard of Oz. "I was obsessed with Judy Garland," an early sign, he later realized, that he was gay. It was another one of her films, Babes in Arms, the Busby Berkeley musical about young people putting on a show, that got him started in the theater. "I learned what theater was through the movies. Theater was going into the back yard and doing a show. So I took that at face value and started making plays. Really, I was a director from the beginning, even though I thought what I wanted to be was an actor." Mayer headed to the University of Wisconsin, his first experience with people who'd never seen a Jew before. "I was dating a girl at the time, because I was still trying to be straight. At one point, she said to me, 'My roommate told me you were Jewish. What are you like?' "I said, 'Brenda, we've been dating six weeks. Don't you know what I'm like?"' Shortly thereafter, Mayer switched to the safer confines of New York University, where he studied acting and lived briefly with his father's cousin, Barbara Ribakove Gordon, a founder of the North American Conference on Ethiopian Jewry. "I got the largest part Darcie Roberts and Company in the National Touring Company of "Thoroughly Modern Millie," a Jazz Age musical set in New York City