The Closer Star (and Working Actor) G.W. Bailey at Top of Game in Unexpected Hit Series

By Lee Shoquist

The Closer, TNT’s smash procedural detective drama about a no-nonsense LAPD homicide division, led by Kyra Sedgwick as an unorthodox Georgia detective transplanted to the City of Angels, has broken ratings records by amassing a legion of more than 12 million faithful viewers in just a few short seasons.

Sharp writing, human characters, complicated relationships—The Closer has been decorated with Emmy, SAG and Golden Globe nods since its 2005 premiere, featuring an impeccable ensemble and fresh approach to TV’s crime solving genre.

As old-school, curmudgeonly Detective Provenza, veteran character actor G.W. Bailey gets to be the team’s tough guy who is, just maybe, a little tender underneath, if anyone could ever get there.

Like every character on The Closer, he is interesting enough to drive his own series with this salty dog of a detective, portrayed by Bailey with quirks, foibles and uncommon realism. He’s also very funny when he wants to be—a concept very familiar to a guy who hit big at the cineplex two decades ago in a couple of zany, beloved little movies.

Today, G.W. Bailey joins me in the restaurant of Chicago’s posh Four Seasons Hotel to herald the premiere of The Closer’s fourth season. I’ve admired him for decades as he delivered workmanlike performances in classic television, from M.A.S.H. to St. Elsewhere.

But his calling card may always be his rash of popular 80s films, including Police Academy and Mannequin, two broad comedies that he hit out of the park with inspired and memorable slapstick turns that made him instantly recognizable.

Ushering in a third act of his career, the warmly engaging actor traded stories about what makes his Provenza tick, the serendipity of The Closer, his early movie days and the life of a working actor across the ups and downs of an unpredictable business.

Lee Shoquist: The Closer has just entered its fourth season and has an unheard of number of viewers—12 million! Did you know during season one that you had a hit? And what is the X factor that has made the show such a runaway success?

G.W. Bailey: By the end of the first season, it looked pretty solid. People had really bought into it. I like to think that it has to do with smart writing and a balance between plot and character that it’s not all a soap opera. It stays on its procedural drama legs. There is a murder that is solved, very smartly. But it’s also smart writing to populate it with people and not with interchangeable characters where you can’t keep straight.

LS: Speaking of smart writing, Kyra’s character, Brenda Johnson, is a complex woman both professionally and in her messy personal life.

GWB: She is a very interesting woman. Some of the things that make her interesting are not terribly flattering. This is not all sweetness and roses with her. She does some things that are very questionable in terms of their ethics. She has lied and manipulated. One could argue that she walks the line.

LS: What makes Provenza tick? He’s gruff, but there’s more going on there.

GWB: I think that despite all of his crust and curmudgeonly ways, not having a lot of patience, five ex-wives and never having been successful, this is very much his life. I think he is trying desperately not to go gentle into that good night.

LS: What does he make of Brenda Johnson? He is rather old school, as they say.

GWB: At the end of the first season, I went to Kyra’s birthday party in New York. Kevin had a surprise party for her. Her parents were there. They asked me to salute her. And they asked me to represent the show and drink a toast to her. What I said was that the writing is such that we had great animosity toward her character the first season. We didn’t like her. We didn’t like her accent. We didn’t like anything about her. We resented her.

And I said that in honor of her parents and husband, it’s the best acting every man in that room has ever done in his entire life. Because the only day we really ever resent is when Kevin shows up and gets all the attention! Every guy in there is in love with (you). I was talking to Kyra. And it’s hard to separate all of those kinds of emotions because on a personal level, we do adore her. We’re crazy about her. We never talk about it, but the very first thing we do when we get the script is look through to see if we have any scenes with her, because we love working with her. That’s also your best shot at the scene staying in!

LS: You mentioned your writers. How do they work in terms of developing your characters?

GWB: The writers not only write but they listen. They listen to us. They walk around the set and listen to us talk to each other. Out of that came the whole relationship with Flynn and Provenza—this love/hate relationship. I’ve known (Anthony Denison) for years. The writers would hear us talking. For example, there is a whole thing in the show about him sitting on my desk. That came out of me one day telling Tony, “Get your ass off my desk!” Next thing you know, it is a whole major thing in our onscreen relationship and it became a thing about me being a neat freak that you wouldn’t think Provenza would be. That is what makes him interesting—just those little touches and texture. That is smart writing.

LS: At this point in your career, over 30 years in the business, it must be great to have a hot, hit series.

GWB: For the last several years, I have basically worked for only one director—Roger Young. We have done 15 projects over the years. He is one of my closest friends and was the king of TV movies and miniseries-formats that are basically gone. I worked for him all the time and got to a point where I assumed for the rest of my theatrical career, that was going to be it—if Roger worked, I worked. He would always find something for me. Then the TV movies started to die. I said, “Well, if I am not in a place where I can get a strong enough agent, maybe it is time for me to go back to the stage.”

Then, out of the blue, The Closer came up. It started as a guest shot and I wasn’t particularly interested. And there was a very strong possibility it would be recurring. I found out from the casting director that James Duff was the creator. I said, “I’ll be there.” James Duff is 53 years old. When he was 16, he was in my acting class. I taught him when I he was 16 years old! I was in college and he was in high school. It was a workshop drama camp for two weeks. The senior students would be hired to do various classes. That’s how I taught him.

So it was the pilot, and there was no part—just all of these cops. But this character had a little more personality, and was curmudgeonly with great lines. James didn’t know that I was coming in. And they did a test of this scene. And then they asked if I would consider making it a regular character. And James said, “Are you kidding me? This would be a dream for both of us.” I said, “Absolutely, I’ll do it.” I don’t know how long it had been since I had seen him. We had remained friends throughout the years. Life takes you to places.

LS: Did you ever think that your iconic role in Police Academy, as bumbling Lt. Thaddeus Harris, would make such an impact? You must have been surprised.

GWB: Oh yeah, it was huge! We didn’t know it would take off. We were aggravated as hell at Warner Brothers because they were going to dump it and get a quick buck out of it, then off to drive-ins and rentals it would go. But within two weeks, people were lined up! The New York Times had given it a good review. Kevin Thomas in the LA Times gave it a rave review, comparing Steve Guttenberg and me to Peter Sellers and David Niven. So Warner Brothers had no idea what they had until the public told them.

We were having a great time. It was the first feature for all of us. Guttenberg had done Diner. Kim Cattrall had done something, and I did Mannequin with her as well. I love Kim. Love her. So they had some experience. But the rest of us had not done a feature. We knew we were having a good time. And our director, Hugh Wilson, was quirky and crazy and fun. Certainly Hugh was brilliant at giving you the outline and energy needed.

LS: You are very “big” when you do comedy. Is it difficult to find that tone?

GWB: For me I find it the most difficult thing in the world. It’s a strange thing, but human beings universally all cry at the same things—loss of a loved one, death in the family, loss of a love affair. What triggers sadness is pretty universal. But we all laugh at different shit. I mean, there are people in this world that think that Howie Mandel is funny! I find that unfathomable. And I know Howie from St. Elsewhere. He wasn’t funny, either on or off! And there are certain universals.

But comedy is cultural for one thing. And verbal comedy certainly is not going to translate as well as physical comedy—banana peels and the basic, common, silent film-type, dell ’Arte comedy. It is all based on somebody else’s discomfort. You can laugh at the man who slips on the banana peel because it is not you. So there are certain kinds of universals.

In Morocco, I’m not sure anybody would laugh if they slipped on a banana peel. On the other hand, if they slipped in camel dung, they may find that hilarious. But I do know other people’s misery is the basis for humor. I can’t tell you how many times we have all said, “The guy has no sense of humor.” And what you are really saying is that he does not have your sense of humor.

LS: You have been working consistently across decades now, in classic TV, movies and now back in television. Have you ever had any down time?

GWB: Yeah! And not by my choice!

LS: Are those periods worrisome?

GWB: (laughs) I never really worried after my kids were grown. But I worried all the time when they were in high school and going to college. I wanted to provide great things for them the best I could. When my daughter got married, I had to borrow the money against the house to pay for the wedding. That’s how bad my cash flow was. But I was able to hang on to my house, and no one knew it.

LS: That is interesting to hear because the public normally thinks of actors who have “made it” as being filthy rich, living in a mansion with an easy life and nothing to worry about.

GWB: We did have a wonderful house but certainly it wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination. It was a nice house in a nice neighborhood. Both of my children were married there. They loved the house, but they knew how much money it would save. We did the reception and party there. But they knew the difference, because they knew that I wasn’t working.

I had some great years in the 80s and 90s. Even when I was started, I was very lucky. I remember when I did MASH. Alan (Alda) made somewhere in the neighborhood of $265,000 per episode. You can imagine how much that is now! I did scenes with him and I was making $1,200. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I was happy to get the $1,200!

LS: You mentioned M.A.S.H. You were part of some of the best-loved sitcoms and programs of the 70s and 80s. It’s kind of mind-boggling to think of you on Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, Starsky and Hutch, Charlie’s Angels, Lou Grant, St. Elsewhere, Remington Steele and so many more.

GWB: Maybe it was my age or where I was in my life. It seems to me that me, my friends and family wanted to watch TV and couldn’t wait to see episodes of certain things. My kids were not allowed to watch Laverne & Shirley. My ex-wife couldn’t stand it. They had an episode where they went undercover in an old folks’ home. She was always fantastic working with the elderly.

And she saw this episode where they were making fun of the elderly. Then, at the end of course, they say they have learned something and had a moral, their hearts were tugged, etc. She said, “No, you can’t make fun of them for twenty minutes and do that.” She was so angry about that episode that the kids were not allowed to watch it.

LS: TV at that time seemed like more of an event or a priority. It had a completely different role in people’s lives, I think. Or the programs were maybe more important to see because we couldn’t TIVO them or see them on You Tube the next day.

GWB: I used to know when shows were on. I can’t tell you now. Growing up in Port Arthur, Texas, we would rush home on a Sunday night after stopping in the grocery store and picking up bologna and white, Wonderbread—it was the only time during the week when we could eat bologna and Fritos. We were in heaven. We couldn’t wait to get home and watch Amos and Andy and Loretta Young. It was magical.

Special thanks to G.W. Bailey for this interview.

lee@atnzone.com