Danny Goldring

If you're a fan of cops-and-robbers shows, you've probably seen Danny Goldring, whose recruiting-poster appearance has earned him a resume replete with flatfoot-in-patrol-cars and gumshoe-in-precinct-room roles not unlike the one he currently occupies as Detective Vince Getz in Keith Huff's spoof of hard-boiled noir, Big Lake Big City, at Lookingglass Theatre.

"For some reason, people see me as an authority figure," Goldring shrugs, "I fit well into uniforms." The irony is that the characters securing cult recognition for the actor who began his career touring schools as a puppeteer with the Cole Marionettes are those deviating most widely from his weary-Shamus persona.

It all started in 2006 with The Earl, Brett Neveu's Pinteresque play about three brothers who reunite regularly in ritual combat, until one of the siblings introduces a ringer to their violent celebration—specifically, a retired action-movie actor dubbed "the Earl" in the cryptic jargon of the ceremonies.

"Danny played The Earl in the original reading at Chicago Dramatists, so credit for that casting goes to its Artistic Director, Russ Tutterow," recalls Lance Baker, who directed the show's premiere at Red Orchid, "No one else was ever considered for the role, either in our production, or the 2011 one directed by Duncan Riddell for The Inconvenience."

Riddell concurs, "When we first thought about doing the play, Brett told us, 'See if Danny will do it'. His performance as The Earl was already legendary in the Chicago Theatre community, so for us, it was like a wooing process. At the end of our reading, he said he needed to think about it. Then, weeks later, I got a phone message, 'Duncan, this is The Earl' and we were on."

Goldring's portrayal of the "Hollywood has-been" forced to fight without a stunt-double (but assisted by award-winning fight designers Chuck Coyl and Ryan Bourque) attracted the attention of Susan Bowen as she was preparing to direct Joshua Rollins' 25 Saints, whose personnel includes a rural sheriff moonlighting as a methamphetamine dealer. "When I saw Danny tangle with these twenty-somethings [in The Earl], my jaw dropped," she remembers, "At the first reading for 25 Saints, Danny showed up wearing khaki from head to foot, with a big brass belt buckle, and didn't say much before we started—you could say he was the sheriff, from the moment he began reading."

"Danny is a true method actor," Riddell chuckles, "He'd come to each rehearsal fully in character. Even when we took a break, he'd still be The Earl." Baker agrees, "He arrived at every show ready to rock, twice a week for six months. Told good jokes, too." Bowen is no less effusive in her praise, "Whenever he was in the room, he brought this wonderful energy—it was like the entire temperature in the room changed. This man genuinely loves making theater."

Goldring, himself, does not dispute this assessment. "Film and TV pay the mortgage," he concedes, "but the stage is where the heart beats. Theater is what pays the soul."

Big Lake, Big City runs at Lookingglass Theatre through August 25

Mary Shen Barnidge
Contributing Writer