THEATER

Friends praise theater stalwart

Doug Perry dies at 66 after extended illness

Mark Hughes Cobb Staff Writer
Doug Perry

Doug Perry, who died early Monday morning at 66 after an extended illness, didn't stride center stage often, though he could bring down houses when called on.

Theatre Tuscaloosa fans can remember Perry's sunny countenance as Ernie Cusack in the 2006 production of Neil Simon's "Rumors," or as part of the adept comedic trios telling raucous but not literally complete "The Complete History of America (abridged)" and "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged)," or as Herr Schultz in the "Cabaret" performed in May 1998 as part of the company's farewell to the Bama Theatre. People still talk lovingly about his Mother Burnside in the '90s "Mame," in part because Perry topped that sharp-tongued Southern matriarch's winning smile with a full mustache.

Like many theater folks, he'd performed since childhood. His lifelong friend and fellow Moundvillian Rita Lewis Holifield recalled a team-up for a 4H Hale County Talent Show in the early '60s, when they were in sixth grade.

"He played the ukulele and I sang 'Michael Row The Boat Ashore.' " she wrote in a Facebook post. "We were sick of it by the time of the talent show. I don't think we won!"

Perry must not have grown sick of an artist's life, though most of his major roles played offstage, as manager and facilitator to more outsized personalities. As head of the Arts Council of Tuscaloosa in the '70s, Perry catalyzed Tuscaloosa Community Players, Punch and Judy Players and Shelton State Community College into what became Theatre Tuscaloosa, now the largest performing arts group in West Alabama. As chosen hire Paul K. Looney dug into that fledgling program, Perry was picked as first general manager of the Alabama Shakespeare Festival, working with the state theater as it negotiated the crucial move from Anniston to multimillion-dollar facilities in Montgomery. Perry then hired Looney to work at the ASF, though after two seasons, Looney returned to guide Theatre Tuscaloosa. Another state theater, Virginia Stage Company in Norfolk, Virginia, then brought Perry to lead its program. Looney lured Perry back to Theatre Tuscaloosa in 1995.

"Over the years we'd call each other 'When are you gonna hire me?' The joke was always 'I can't afford you,' " Looney said.

But Theatre Tuscaloosa's rapid expansion in the late '80s and early '90s gave the artistic director leverage. He dangled the offshoot Stage Centre Company, a full-professional arm with performing and educational roles, as bait. SCC spun off Second Stage, the experimental-theater arm of the group, and the Alabama Stage and Screen Hall of Fame, which honored and brought to the Shelton campus luminaries including the Blounts, who funded the ASF's facilities, Fannie Flagg, Dean Jones, Jim Nabors, Brett Butler, Tom Cherones, George Lindsey, Rebecca Luker and many more, including Alabama-born legends such as Tallulah Bankhead, Truman Capote, Johnny Mack Brown and others.

"That got Doug to Theatre Tuscaloosa," Looney said.

When Miah Michaelsen left the company to take over the top job at the Kentuck Arts Center, Looney talked Perry into becoming managing director, and later producing director.

"When he first came down here, this is not hyperbole, almost every day I would get a call from a major theater company, wanting to talk to Doug about coming to work for them," Looney added. "Every time they'd call, I'd think 'Oh crap. He's gonna leave.' But bless his heart, he didn't."

While Looney performed more visible feats as artistic director, Perry oversaw marketing, budgeting, ticketing and all the other essential clockwork that kept illusions alive on stage. He stayed the company's steady hand until retirement in 2003, after which he continued to work part-time for Shelton, while settling into quieter Moundville life with his husband of 32 years, David Massey, and their canine companion Sarge.

"We were closer to each other than I was to my real brother," Looney said.

Perry played the calm amidst the storm, friends and co-workers remember.

"I am a pacer, before the start of a show," said Drew Baker, one of the company's most lauded actors. "In 'Cabaret,' Doug just silently watched me with a small smile on his face as he stood perfectly still. I remember this like it was yesterday."

"Doug was our anchor," said Paul B. Crook, who performed with Perry in the "Complete History" comedies. "Here's a word for Doug, and it's a word whose depth and breadth I come to appreciate more each year: Gracious. 

"The man was gracious to any and all, without a care if they 'deserved' it. We ALL 'deserved' it in Doug's eyes. A fierce wit and intelligence, he wanted to see people succeed," said Crook, who recently took a post as executive director of the Etherredge Center at University of South Carolina Aiken, after years as professor of theater at Louisiana Tech University.

"I've always thought about him like (Major League Baseball player) Tony Gwynn. It was often said of (Gwynn) that, if called upon, or if he wanted to, he could have challenged Hank (Aaron) for the home run crown. But the Padres didn't need that. They needed someone to be the anchor of the lineup, and hit for average, so that's what he did. ... And damn, I'm gonna miss him."

Another of Theatre Tuscaloosa's stars, Lisa Waldrop Shattuck, began her career with the company in that '98 "Cabaret." Looney blocked her into a scene at Perry's right, while Schultz sang "Meeskite."

"He couldn't see very well out of his right eye, and never even knew I was there until we were in the middle of the run," she said. One night the newbie worked farther downstage, into his line of sight. "He came offstage and pulled Charles (Prosser) aside and said 'Who the hell is that girl in my fruit shop?' Charles introduced us, and 'fruit shop girl' was my name for the next 20 years. ... I got a really great friend out of screwing up my blocking."

Perry wasn't truly irritated at fruit-shop girl: it was just his mock-irascible, dry humor. Susan Looney, Paul's wife and the company's frequent choreographer, said Perry could always make folks laugh.

"And it was smart humor. He didn't just go for the lowest target. He could really come up with some good stuff," she said.

Tina F. Turley, who has continued the work of Perry, Looney and others as executive producer of Theatre Tuscaloosa, described his wit as impeccably timed.

"He could throw it out without even a moment's breath," she said, almost as if scripting his own life. "He was almost a literary character, but I don't think anybody could write a character like Doug. ... This theater wouldn't be here without Doug, I believe."

Actor Carol DeVelice worked with Perry going back pre-Theatre Tuscaloosa days, joined by stalwarts such as the flamboyant costumer Walter Brown McCord, and faux-curmudgeonly Charlie Dennis, the technical director, both now passed on.

"I have so many fond memories, from even before Paul came," she said. "I remember Doug directing me in 'Mousetrap,' and Walter Brown putting me in probably one of the ugliest things I've ever been in...." Intercepting their gripe-fest, Perry smoothed feathers.

"I remember him telling me it was OK, I looked beautiful," she said, "and then laughing behind my back.

"He was just delightful for anyone who was lucky enough to work with him, and call him a friend. He just made you happy knowing him," she added, picturing Dennis, McCord with director and scenic designer John Ross, who died in 2016, welcoming Perry to Heaven.

"It gives you something to look forward to, because you know all that laughter's up there floating around."

His sister Marjean Perry Childree posted on Facebook Monday: "He told us when he had a near-death experience a few years ago that he had seen Heaven and it is a sunny beach with a Jimmy Buffet soundtrack. I hope he is there and that there is booze in the blender."

Perry didn't want a funeral, Turley said, so there'll be a celebration instead.

"I had never seen anybody that hated people making a fuss over him like Doug. He absolutely hated it. So anything we do that will be attributed to him, he will hate," she said, laughing. "But we're going to do it anyway. He deserves the accolades. He would want us to laugh.

"It's hard not to believe in Heaven when you know guys like (Perry, Ross, McCord and Dennis) have passed on. Their spirits have got to be somewhere, because they're just too big."