Well, doing Spamalot is a dream come true. I’d always wanted to work with Mike Nichols and even though I’d done Broadway shows, I’d never starred in a Broadway musical before. So doing this show is definitely like finding a grail for me. I’m incredibly grateful that I get to do it. Exhausted and drained a lot, yes, but also excited and grateful.

The great actor Laurence Olivier was asked what’s the single most important thing for an actor to be successful. He answered, “Stamina.” Arthur is on stage most of Spamalot. I have to be well-rested, eat well and really take care of my voice and body to be effective in this role. As with so many things, talent or skill are only part of it. Other than that, while Arthur gets a lot of laughs in the show, he’s also a straight man much of the time. I think of a straight man sort of like a lineman in football. The lineman doesn’t run with the ball or make touchdowns, but if he makes the right block, the running backs can score and the team wins. It’s the same in the theater, oddly enough. The other guy doesn’t get his laugh unless I set it up correctly.

It’s almost like an entirely different job. On stage, there’s always the audience. They’re your barometer—you always know how you’re doing. But with film and TV, there’s no audience; plus if you mess up filming, you can stop and start again. In the theater, once that curtain goes up, there are no second takes—it stays up until the play ends. No do-overs on stage. That’s what makes it so exciting.

Various cast hooligans have been known to T-P a dressing room from time to time. I love it when the cast is hanging out on stage right before the show starts in their crazy Finland costumes, just talking as if they’re not dressed in bright blonde wigs and wildly insane hats and shoes. And then there’s the stage door woman, Rose. She and I are huge New York Mets fans, so all during the show whenever I go by her station, she gives me updates on the Mets game. This is important stuff. In a town with a lot of Yankee fans with attitude, we Mets fans have to stick together.

A few weeks ago during the second act, a heavy part of the castle scenery wouldn’t move. We actors weren’t sure what was going on for about thirty seconds, so I was wandering around on stage starting to ad-lib. The other actors suddenly motioned to me to leave the stage. The crew had to bring in the curtain and we stopped the show for 12 minutes. I thought it would wreck the momentum of the second act. But when we started up again, the audience was right there with us and we didn’t miss a beat or lose a single laugh. After the show, I was signing autographs at the stage door, and two different people told me that they thought the set problem was part of the show. Spamalot audiences are ready for anything. The show feels like it’s improvised (even though it mostly isn’t), so the audience just goes along with whatever happens.

Spamalot is so much fun to do that I almost can’t measure it. There’s nothing like making a live audience laugh. And Spamalot audiences laugh from start to finish. It’s a treat and a privilege to be part of that. TV is great, too, but there’s nothing like connecting with a live audience in a comedy that works.

I save it for the show. I talk as little as possible during the day. Sleep is really, really important. I avoid dairy products, which tend to coat the throat in a bad way, and I drink lots of “throat coat” Echinacea tea.

I love the opening scene because it gives me a chance to gauge the audience; there are a lot of big laughs in the scene, but also some small ones, and when we get the small ones, I know it’s going to be an especially fun night. I like the “Tim the Enchanter” scene and the “Black Knight” scene, because they’re signature scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail and the audience just goes crazy for them. Even if people haven’t seen the movie, they love those scenes. If they know the movie, when the Black Knight appears, they’re thinking, “How the hell are they going to cut off his arms and legs???” and then we do! And, somehow, it’s funny and not at all gruesome or violent.

I do a series of “ma-ma-ma-ma, may-may-may-may, me-me-me-me, my-my-my-my” sounds, moving slowly up the scale until I get to the top of the range. I don’t force it, just try to loosen up the voice. Then I move to some really nasty “nying-nying” sounds that help clear phlegm from the throat. Then I do a lot of stretching on stage at half hour, to work into a light sweat. That helps the voice, too.

I guess I’m something of an innocent myself. I tend not to get it when people are disrespectful, like Arthur. I tend to see the good in people. And I’m very much a romantic.

Someone else might be able to answer that better than I can, but I think Arthur is an optimist—the way I play him, he’s kind of blind to most of the insults from the people he runs into. It’s 932 A.D., and they have no idea what a king is or how a king should be treated, but Arthur has a sense of hope, and he’s a great romantic. I also enjoy playing him as maybe not the brightest of kings. An innocent with a good heart.

I was wildly nervous, yes, but also really excited. Mike Nichols, our brilliant director, was full of encouragement. Frank Lombardi, the production stage manager, and Scott Taylor, the assistant choreographer, who are responsible for teaching new cast members the staging and choreography, are amazing at what they do—I felt so ready and really wanted to experience my first audience after a couple of weeks of rehearsing in a studio or in the empty theater. When the first laugh came at just the right spot in my opening scene, I relaxed. At the end of the show, the audience gave us a standing ovation, so it was a great way to begin.