Summary
PEEKING through a crack in a door as the day's rehearsals wind down, it's the bottom half of him I see first. He's wearing orange, plastic sling-back jelly shoes and the sort of three-quarter-length breeks - well-cut, in an unusual shade of plum - that you must only be able to find on the zazziest corner of the zazziest Lower East Side shopping district of Manhattan, where Alan Cumming lives.
Then, bit by bit, the top half appears: a black T-shirt emblazoned with "F*** yoga" and finally his head. Until recently he sported a mohawk. Now it's a razorcut. There are little spikes of grey amongst the black and Cumming, son of Carnoustie, toast of Broadway but now back in London's West End after a gap of 13 years, says that for the first time on stage he's feeling his age.See the full content of this document
Extract
Cumming Attractions
We meet down at the YMCA, a former hostel converted into a studio close to King's Cross. This is where Cumming is preparing for a revival of Martin Sherman's Bent, and a role which he rates the most demanding, physically and emotionally, of his glittering career.
"Every day I'm heaving these great rocks about," he says. Central to the action is a gay love affair conducted in a Nazi concentration camp. As we head out to a nearby pub, he lifts his T-shirt. "Look at my stomach! It's not been that flat since I was 11!"At the bar he orders a meal - main course, two starters and, after I agree to share it wi...See the full content of this document
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