Playing the piano man for Meryl Streep

  • by Gregg Shapiro
  • Tuesday August 9, 2016
Share this Post:

If Simon Helberg didn't already have a substantial gay following from the comical interplay between his character Howard and Raj (Kunal Nayyar) on the beloved sitcom The Big Bang Theory, his portrayal of sexually ambiguous pianist Cosme McMoon in Florence Foster Jenkins will remedy that. It's based on the true story of society hostess Jenkins (Meryl Streep), an opera fanatic with a tin ear when it came to her own operatic renditions. But that didn't stop her from performing concerts, including a legendary one at Carnegie Hall. McMoon, hired by Jenkins and her paramour St. Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant) to be her accompanist, is given dimension and depth in Helberg's performance. I spoke with him about the film shortly before it opened in theaters.

Gregg Shapiro: How aware were you of Florence Foster Jenkins before being cast as her accompanist?

Simon Helberg: Zero awareness. But it felt familiar, this theme of delusions of grandeur. I always felt very attracted to those traits: people who aspire to be something much larger than they are and who have a complete misunderstanding of who they actually are. I think that's kind of sweet and tragic.

Opera is featured prominently in the film. Are you an opera fan?

No. There's that, too. It's more that I'm unfamiliar than not a fan. There are pieces of opera that I've been exposed to and that I enjoy. But I didn't know much about it. I love jazz. That was a tough enough thing to like in high school; I didn't need to go looking to opera.

What other kinds of music do you like?

Not to be cliche, but I do have an appreciation for all music. I love rock and pop and the Beatles; a lot of stuff that isn't as current maybe, somewhere between the 1960s and the 90s. The 40s, too.

Acting in a period piece means you get to wear costumes you wouldn't ordinarily wear. What was that like?

As he began to have a little more money and sustain this job, his clothes did get nicer. The first outfit that he wore was kind of sad. It was shredding on the leg. Consolota Boyle was the costume designer �" brilliant! He wore these little sweaters that were very sweet. At the end, the suits were so beautiful; they handmade some of them. What an era for clothes. The flies on the pants were so enormous; it was very ambitious. You had to unbutton forty buttons just to pee. I don't know what was going on down there in the 40s.

Cosme's sexuality is the pink elephant in the room. The scene at the party in St. Clair's apartment, when Cosme is cruised by that man who eventually attaches himself, manages to be a subtle confirmation of what we've all been thinking. What was it like to play a character who lived at a time when his attractions could threaten his very being?

Yes, it was illegal. I read this Cole Porter biography just to understand what it was like in New York at that time to be gay in the music and arts world. That was an interesting moment, having that guy put his arm around him. I thought, maybe he doesn't know at this moment what he is. Particularly in a time when not only didn't people question things, but you weren't even allowed to express it even if you had the answer. Maybe he never knows. Maybe he knows but doesn't act on it. A question mark was more interesting to me than the answer.

One of the most beautiful scenes in the movie is when Florence comes to visit Cosme at his apartment. They end up at his piano, where they play a duet. What was doing that scene with Meryl like for you?

It was kind of the Everest of the movie for me. It was a scene that stood out, particularly with the duet. Is there a world in which my hand would be next to Meryl's hand? Meryl and I talked about the scene being an anomaly. This very long and intimate scene, outside of the context of the world we've been in. We talked about it being the gentleman caller scene in The Glass Menagerie. It had this very human quality. It took its time. There's that moment where he asks if she wants a glass of water. In rehearsal, she took the water and drank the whole glass. She said to [director] Stephen Frears, "It's very important that you shoot me drinking the whole glass. The whole movie is about this." That's her genius. It's this abstract idea, yet it makes perfect sense. The thirst and the desperation. It's this larger-than-life woman needing the human elixir to get back up on her feet in this vulnerable moment.