Jeff Daniels on How to Bring Audiences Back to the Theatre

Jeff Daniels has done many things over his long career. He’s led TV shows (The Newsroom), acted on Broadway (To Kill a Mockingbird), written plays (Escanaba in da Moonlight), and recorded music (he’s released five folk albums). But lately, Daniels has added another credit to his long, illustrious resume: artistic director. In 2022, he stepped in as artistic director of Purple Rose Theatre Company, which he founded in 1991 in his hometown of Chelsea, Michigan.

“I've always been pretty good at compartmentalizing my life, whether it's acting or writing a play or the music side,” explains the two-time Emmy winner. “But it was always kind of designed for others to run the theatre. And then when I stepped in as artistic director, it was more like the third act of my life—while I'm still acting, I'm just not acting as much.”

His time these days, aside from the occasional screen project (he’s about to play Ronald Reagan in the film Reykjavík), is focused on a singular concern: how to make theatre matter to audiences again.

Daniels founded Purple Rose in 1991, out of a former used bus and car garage owned by his grandfather. He wanted a way to bring theatre and the arts to his hometown. Over the years, as his fame grew, he’s maintained his connection to the company—he’s written 21 plays that premiered there and performs in regular concerts at Purple Rose (the proceeds of which are donated back to the company). His son, Lucas, is the longtime artistic associate with Purple Rose and now runs the theatre alongside Daniels and associate Rhiannon Ragland—a kind of artistic family business.

In the years since its founding, Purple Rose proved so popular with local audiences that it found itself needing to enlarge its building—which it did so in 1999 with a $2.2 million capital campaign. It became a way for local playwrights to get their first productions produced, for local actors to receive their first acting credits, and for area artists to take classes to sharpen their skills.

But in 2022, Purple Rose found itself in dire straits. Its audiences had dwindled due to a two-fold punch of the COVID-19 pandemic and the departure of its former artistic director, Guy Sanville, who stepped down following allegations by multiple company members of fostering a toxic workplace. Daniels stepped in as artistic director to lead the company through this tumultuous period. He does not take a salary for the position.

When asked about how the company has addressed its workplace issues, Daniels responded, “We addressed our issues of equality, dignity, and respect in the workplace. With the guidance of Human Resources, we instituted changes, and for the past three years have held ourselves as a staff as well as all of the artists who work at the Purple Rose to the same high standards.”

And besides improving the internal culture at the theatre, Daniels has been doing a lot of thinking on the external—particularly in how to bring audiences back. It’s a question that’s, arguably, on the mind of every person working at a theatre right now.

True to the straight-talking characters he plays, Daniels doesn’t mince words when describing the state of his theatre and the industry at large.

“I think this is a crisis. I think this is a national crisis, at least everywhere west of Broadway,” says Daniels. As a non-profit theatre, mostly dependent on donations to stay afloat, “I have to raise almost a million bucks a year, plus I [have to] hit four home runs with our productions, meaning 80 percent sales in tickets, just to break even. That's a bad business model.”

Unfortunately, if Daniels wants to turn a profit with Purple Rose’s shows, he’d have to price tickets much higher than their current cost of $50. But he does not want to do that either. “I don't want to take it up to over 100 bucks, because they won't come at that price, not out here. I want people to be able to afford the night out.”

And he wants them to have a good time when they’re out. To Daniels, the current period feels like a restart, a hearkening back to when he first started Purple Rose 30 years ago: how to entice audiences to leave their comfortable homes and go to the theatre, which the actor admits is even tougher now when there are so many entertainment options at their literal fingertips (“This is from an actor who loves working on streamers, it's why I still have an acting career, frankly.”). To him, it feels like building a new audience again from scratch, especially since he is looking for that younger audience who need even more incentives to leave their homes.

“The American theatre in general, frankly, we're not entitled to an audience,” says Daniels without hesitation. “Post-Covid, we have to find out what the audience wants. We have to win the audience back. It's that simple. The market slogan of the American theatre for decades has been, ‘You come to us, and then we lecture you, and then on your way out the door, ask for donations so we can do more of this.’ And you can't get away with that now, not out here.”

Company of *Office Christmas Party Grinch In Fight With Rudolph Police Called* Sean Carter

So at Purple Rose, Daniels has focused on plays that do two things: make people laugh and tell local stories. For the company’s fall play, Daniels wrote a comedy called Office Christmas Party, Grinch in Fight With Rudolph, Police Called, which he’s also directing. It’s running until December 22. It was inspired by a local news headline, which Daniels saw and ran with. The play takes place in a fudge factory, where the annual Christmas party goes awry (Michigan is also famous for fudge). As the star of Dumb and Dumber, Daniels describes the show as "zany," saying, “I can't get any funnier than this play.” As he says with pride: “We do comedy about this corner of the country really well; they are original stories you don't know. We're not doing what was popular in New York City last year. I'm not interested in that.”

Daniels believes that comedy can be a way to relay important messages, but in a way that’s easier to swallow. And at the same time, theatre should be offering a respite from the outside world. “[Audiences are] looking for an escape. They don't want to go to the theatre and watch the news. They just don't. And if you're doing the news on stage, they will stay away in droves,” he asserts. “That's what we're learning out here. And so, you want to laugh, you want an escape that's well-written, well-acted, well-performed.”

Such an assertion does seem unusual coming from an actor who was renowned for playing Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird on Broadway. But Daniels points out that on Broadway, he was playing to an audience who was already primed to go to the theatre and willing to pay hundreds of dollars to do so. There’s less of that instinct in the Midwest, says Daniels, and it’s more of a climb to convince new audience members to come to the theatre, even when it’s someone of Daniels’ celebrity doing the convincing.

The play needs to be the thing. By way of example, Daniels points to a play he wrote in the ’90s, Escanaba in da Moonlight, which he eventually adapted into a film, about Michigan deer hunters. “We had people come who had never been inside a theatre in their lives,” he explains. “We had people coming who were wearing their hunting gear—their orange hunting vests, with their deer hunting license still on the back—sitting in our audience watching this comedy about deer hunting. There is a huge audience out there that has never been to a professional play…I want that audience. I've wanted it for decades, and that means you got to write about them. You got to write for them. You got to write to them. Seattle should be writing about Seattle. Denver should be writing about Denver.”

Paul Stroili, Ryan Carlson, Henrí Franklin, and Juliana Berry in *Office Christmas Party Grinch In Fight With Rudolph Police Called* Sean Carter

And one other thing theatre needs to be, according to Daniels: convenient. In the past few months, the actor has been speaking to SAG-AFTRA and Actors’ Equity Association, the unions for screen actors and stage actors, respectively. He wanted to figure out how Purple Rose can stream its productions for audiences at home. To his frustration, the contracts are complicated, and Purple Rose is only allowed to sell as many streaming tickets as there are seats in the theatre, which is 168—which, to Daniels, is not enough potential profit to justify the filming expense. But what if the theatre could sell, say, 1,000 seats for a streamed performance? “That's $20,000,” says Daniels, having clearly done the math.

But, trying to find a workaround with the unions feels like, in Daniels’ words, “talking to a wall.” “It just doesn't make any sense to me that the unions can't get together and do something to put money in, not only their pockets, but everybody's pockets—and maybe even help save the regional theatres,” he then adds, addressing AEA President Brooke Shields: “Brooke, if you're listening, I'm happy to talk to you.”

In short, it’s been a lot of unpaid work, a lot of problem-solving, innovating at the Purple Rose—with some directing and writing, the things he loves most, thrown in. And Daniels admits he’s unsure of what the future holds for the theatre. But when asked what keeps him doing theatre, he doesn’t hesitate to say that it’s the people.

“Whether it's acting, music or playwriting, I've always been creating, and I’d miss it if it stopped,” he says, circumspect. “Personally, I enjoy at this age, being able to sit in a rehearsal room—as I have for the last month with these actors—and give them everything I've ever learned, and they can take it and they can turn it into something they've never done before. There's a joy in that…And then when the audience comes in, hopefully they recognize that the work that's being done is special.”