SAN DIEGO — For some theatergoers, George Bernard Shaw's classic 1913 play "Pygmalion" is "My Fair Lady" without the songs and traditional romantic ending. But returning to the source of Frederick Loewe and Alan Jay Lerner's beloved musical reminds us that Shaw's marvelous comedy contains its own music — an ebullient symphony of wit and wisdom too honest to pander to convention and too amusing for anyone to object.

Nicholas Martin's charmingly acted revival at the Old Globe, starring Robert Sean Leonard as Professor Henry Higgins and Charlotte Parry as Eliza Doolittle, honors the many hues of Shaw's work.

Shifting from daring social critique to old-fashioned romance to keen character study, the play is acutely mindful of the way life is inextricably political. For Shaw this had less to do with party affiliation than with the recognition that human relations are ultimately about power and therefore about class and gender. His ability to convey this with a lightness of touch, to instruct without being ponderous, lifted him into the circle of playwriting immortals.

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Martin respects both the frivolity and seriousness of Shaw's reworking of the old Pygmalion myth, best known from Ovid's "Metamorphoses," about the sculptor who falls in love with the female figure he's carved out of ivory. Shaw's update, which also contains echoes of the Cinderella tale, gives us the dream as well as the morning misgivings — fantasy and shrewd reality blended to enhance a thinking person's pleasure.

The play hinges on a wager: Higgins, a phonetics expert, makes a bet with a distinguished colleague, Colonel Pickering (a pitch-perfect Paxton Whitehead), that he can transform Eliza, a cockney flower girl, into a duchess in three months. The experiment is a brilliant success, but can a person feel grateful for being treated like a lab rat even if her etiquette and enunciation are now as impeccable as her newly bought clothes? More important, can someone be ripped from her social context without revealing the ruse of society's hierarchies?

"Pygmalion" starts as a playful venture but quickly develops into an X-ray of a stratified nation. Yes, it remains a love story, but one that understands just how profoundly the romantic is political.

Leonard is such an appealing stage actor, one who naturally draws audiences whisperingly close to him, that it wasn't clear if he'd have the necessary sternness to play Higgins, whose disregard for niceties borders on the pathological.

But Leonard captures the emotional cluelessness of a linguistic researcher who cares more for pronunciation than people. At the same time, pacing around his handsome study (expertly designed by Alexander Dodge), Leonard's Higgins remains sympathetic enough in his cute cardigan and distracted manner for us to understand Eliza's regard for him.

In following the journey Shaw has prepared for Eliza, Parry starts as a shrieking cartoon and ends as a complex woman whose growing knowledge of the world only intensifies her desire for independence. The humor of Parry's early scenes dissipates as Eliza's manner becomes more respectable, but the emotion deepens as the character feels the disappointment of not being seen by the man who remade her.

Martin's supporting cast is superb. Kandis Chappell, destined to offer a definitive Mrs. Higgins, supplies one here. It's no surprise that her son is still under the spell of this elegant, freethinking woman who zeroes in on souls the way Higgins zeroes in on accents.

Whitehead's Colonel Pickering is the consummate gentleman scholar. Indeed the portrait is so well pulled off that you hate to think Eliza might not be going back to Wimpole Street to live with Higgins and the Colonel in a setup of bachelor bliss that is perhaps the most contrived aspect of Shaw's oddly sexless world.

As Mr. Doolittle, Eliza's ne'er-do-well father, Don Sparks manages to steal every scene he's in while instantly conceding the stage once his character's inverted moralizing is through. Deborah Taylor's Mrs. Pearce, Higgins' indispensable housekeeper, brandishes a knowledge of human nature that gives her an authority well beyond her station.

Robbie Simpson's Freddy, the young man from the modest middle class who falls head over heels for Eliza, has a goofy smile and an eager-to-please manner that could be reined in a jot. He seems more like Higgins' disdainful impression of the character than the fellow who will eventually win Eliza's hand.

To understand this twist, you'll have to see the production for yourself. Martin, following a note Shaw appended to the play, takes liberties with the text. The ending doesn't revert to the traditional formula of romantic comedy, but it doesn't leave things quite as ambiguous as the original. Never mind: Martin's rapid-fire "Pygmalion" is a pleasure from start to finish.

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Who would have guessed that after a century, “Pygmalion” would still be produced by respected theater companies? Even after 100 years, Professor Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle prevail as two very amusing characters in The Old Globe’s rendition of the production.
For those who have not seen any version of the original show or the unforgettable musical “My Fair Lady,” here is a short synopsis. Set in 1912, Eliza (Charlotte Parry) is a poor flower peddler whose crude vocabulary skills and unattractive physical appearance lead to her gaining little respect from more well-to-do Londoners. After an argument with Eliza, Henry (Robert Sean Leonard), an egocentric professor of phonetics, bets his new acquaintance and colleague, Col. Pickering (Paxton Whitehead) that he can transform the ugly duckling into a proper lady within six months.
For the modern “Pygmalion” to work, the cast must be comprised of talented actors who make the popular roles their own. Parry rises to the challenge of having to consistently change her personality as Eliza lives in Henry’s house. Parry’s total commitment to Eliza’s transfiguration brings many comic and emotional payoffs.
Although Parry is funny, her most memorable scene is a very serious moment in Act IV. After feeling used by Henry, Eliza quietly sits down in his laboratory as the professor talks to Pickering about how she has successfully passed as a duchess. Parry conveys so much heartbreak in her silence as she listens to the two men talk about her as a satisfactory project that has come to completion.
Tony Award winner Leonard gives a hysterical performance as a youthful Henry. A third rate-ham could have turned the professor into a painfully annoying caricature, but Leonard has a ball exploring the bachelor’s narcissistic nature.
Two supporting performers are so hilarious that they must be mentioned in this review. Kandis Chappell is perfectly cast as Henry’s brutally honest mother, Mrs. Higgins. Her no-nonsense attitude results in some of the bigger laughs of the evening.
Another standout ensemble member is Don Sparks, who plays Eliza’s good-for-nothing weasel of a father, Alfred Doolittle. Though on stage for just a few occasions, his deadpan delivery is comedic gold.
The only part of the plot which needs further development is the bet between Henry and Pickering. In this interpretation, the two are so friendly toward one another, it is easy to forget there should be tension in hoping Henry’s “experiment” with Eliza proves successful.
However, it could be argued director Nicholas Martin is far more interested in the relationship between Henry and Eliza. If this was his intended emphasis, his approach works because the characters’ smart and sometimes awkward conversations together are riveting.
Clever, fun and a little bittersweet, The Old Globe’s adaptation of writer George Bernard Shaw’s “Pygmalion” is tremendously witty as well as a breezy, spot-on night of entertainment. Here’s hoping in another 100 years, there will be more revivals of this timeless classic.

By Jeff Smith, Jan. 23, 2013

What a treat! George Bernard Shaw’s back at the Old Globe — finally! — with first-class direction, performances, and design work. Even a balky turntable on opening night couldn’t tarnish the luster.

For the past 15 years or so, local theater has treated Shaw’s works like ancient statues draped with canvas. In an age when communication verges ever closer to Morse Code — LOL, WTF — Shaw’s plays have too many words, are too cerebral — or so the “thinking” has gone. Well, guess what: director Nicholas Martin has given Shaw’s comic masterpiece vivid, funny, thought-provoking life.

Anyone seeing Pygmalion for the first time will experience déjà vu. Coar-blimey! Isn’t Henry Higgins the ’enery ’iggins of My Fair Lady? Lerner and Loewe based their musical so closely on the original, you can even hear song cues, as when Higgins complains that the moment he makes friends with a woman, “she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious” and expects him to sing “but let a woman in your life...” Audiences will be led astray, however, if they think the play, and the ending, will conform to the musical.

The title recalls the mythical sculptor who carved a statue of a woman and fell in love with it. The Greek goddess Aphrodite brought her to life. Pygmalion has a similar thrust. On a dare, Henry Higgins plucks Eliza Doolittle from a Covent Garden gutter and changes her “kerbstone English” to the sonorous cadences of an up-market duchess. He walks all over her (“I walk over everybody!”), remains oblivious to her feelings, and vows to “throw her back in the gutter.”

But Pygmalion just carved the statue. In one of the Globe’s most touching scenes, the now stately Eliza thanks Colonel Pickering for awakening her self-respect. She was raised just like Higgins, she says, “unable to control myself, and using bad language on the slightest provocation.” She would never have known otherwise if Pickering, like Aphrodite, had not set her free.

And free to see through Higgins (“All the time I only had to lift up my finger to be as good as you”). So audiences expect a romance to bloom between them. But not Shaw. Pygmalion, he writes in a “sequel,” is no love story. “Eliza has no use for the foolish romantic tradition that all women love to be mastered.” Anyone hoping for even the suggestion of marriage has a “lazy dependence on the...ragshop in which Romance keeps its stock of happy endings to misfit all stories.”

The real Pygmalion, in effect, is Shaw. And we are his block of marble. He wants to pare away our yen for sappy conclusions and pay sober attention to social class: how “in an age of upstarts” people lose their freedom; how external factors determine social standing. And how Eliza and her father have become trapped: she has the sophistication but not the money; he, the money, but not the sophistication.

Pygmalion does give a comic critique of the mannered. Trouble is, to wean us from a happy ending, Shaw first had to set one up. Henry and Eliza have a bond, ambiguous as all get-out, but a bond nonetheless.

Critics aren’t supposed to talk about endings, so I’ll just say that the director has added a visual to the original that nicely complicates matters. The Old Globe recently named Nicholas Martin as an “associate artist” — with good reason.

Henry Higgins is supposed to be 20 years older than Eliza. Although his British accent sometimes slips, Robert Sean Leonard makes him a spoiled-brat genius with romper-room energy. People expecting a rigid Rex Harrison may be off-put. But Leonard’s irritating, engaging, physically active Higgins serves the play. Adulthood still eludes this Henry. As long as it does, he won’t be Eliza’s equal.

As the “artificial duchess,” Charlotte Parry blooms like one of Eliza’s flowers — and the text gives her far less room than the musical: no “Rain in Spain”; no Embassy Ball; no hugging scene with Freddy. There are at least five different Elizas, one for each act, and Parry connects them all with a splendid performance.

The ensemble has “Craig’s Children” at its core: expert, classically trained actors Craig Noel cast decades ago, whenever he could. Paxton Whitehead (ever-precise as Pickering); Don Sparks (a comic hoot as Mr. Doolittle, snagged by “middle-class morality”); Kandis Chappell (Higgins’s imperial mother to whom “what fools these males be”); Deborah Taylor (Mrs. Pearce, the housekeeper, and Higgins’s live-in mother figure). The quartet evokes two responses: What a grand reunion! And, Where have they been?

Donning the elegant costumes of Robert Morgan (another Noel favorite), Maggie Carney, Danielle O’Farrell, and Robbie Simpson provide valuable support as the eccentric Eynsford Hills. Simpson’s Freddy wears such a perpetual smile, you expect him to belt “On the Street Where You Live” at any moment. Freddy’s naiveté also cuts another way: he’s no match for Eliza.

With a nod to the 100th anniversary of the premiere of Pygmalion, The Old Globe Theatre is staging George Bernard Shaw’s rarely produced, often bitingly funny commentary on the classes. Brimming with Shaw’s wit and irony, Pygmalion also gave the world two beloved characters: speech professor Henry Higgins and Cockney flower girl Eliza Doolittle. If you’ve never seen it (on stage or the 1938 film), you certainly know the beloved Lerner & Loewe musical version, My Fair Lady, the staging and subsequent filming of which proved to be the crown jewel in Rex Harrison’s career.

For this production, the Globe has enlisted a stellar team, beginning with newly named associate artist Nicholas Martin, who directs. Fellow associate artists Kandis Chappell, Paxton Whitehead, Don Sparks and Deborah Taylor stalwartly support Robert Sean Leonard in the role of Higgins and Charlotte Parry as Eliza.

Though the play’s most memorable lines are well-known to My Fair Lady devotees, and laughter comes easily as a result (particularly when Sparks, as Alfie Doolittle, bellows across the stage), there’s a darker tone to this Pygmalion that possibly the opening-nighters didn’t perceive. Leonard’s Higgins is glib and appropriately superior, but he seems preoccupied, even brooding at times (as when he climbs up the winding staircase to an organ and presses its breathy keys). As Eliza, Parry reminds us that in Shaw’s telling of the story (as opposed to the sunnier musical version), this girl from the lower class is profoundly unhappy with her lot, and with herself, practically up to and including the very sobering ending.

So ingrained in our minds is My Fair Lady that we miss not seeing Eliza taking her English lessons from Higgins, and more absent still is any particular scene that suggests a budding affection (or perhaps more) between professor and student. But this was the play Shaw wrote, and his attitude was decidedly unsentimental. Pygmalion must be accepted on its own terms.

Besides Sparks’ Alfie Doolittle, Whitehead is delightful as Higgins’ crony, Col. Pickering, and the sets, costumes and the requisite London rain are all bloody good, as a crony of Eliza’s might say.

By Diana Saenger

The story may be 100 years old, but The Old Globe Theatre proves George Bernard Shaw’s classic “Pygmalion” can still be funny and heartwarming. With a top-notch cast, a stunning set design and superb direction by Nicholas Martin, the production is delightful.

Charlotte Parry fully embodies her character Eliza Doolittle in the first 10 minutes of the play. She rushes on scene as Colonel Pickering (Paxton Whitehead, Old Globe Associate Artist) is trying to console Mrs. Hill (Maggie Carney) and her daughter Clara (Danielle O’Farrell) for having to wait for a cab.

Eliza immediately speaks in a loud cockney accent trying to sell her flowers when Freddy Hill (Robbie Simpson) runs in and accidently knocks her to the ground. Eliza demands payment for her ruined flowers while Clara adamantly orders her brother to ignore the obscene girl. Everyone is bantering about until the Colonel warns that there’s a man hiding behind a column writing down notes.

Language Professor Henry Higgins (Robert Sean Leonard) steps from the shadows and reveals he’s appalled at the way Eliza speaks. After conversation, Higgins bets the Colonel that in six months he can teach Eliza the proper speech for a lady, cleanup her rag-a-muffin appearance, and have her pass for a woman of distinction. The bet is on.

Lacking self-esteem and with no place to go, Eliza agrees to move into Higgins’ home for the experiment. Even though his own house- keeper (Deborah Taylor) chastises Higgins for the situation he’s put Eliza in (not to mention they way he treats her) Eliza begins to blossom. But for every improvement she makes in her life she must also endure Higgins’ constant putdowns.

The scenic design by Alexander Dodge with a rotating floor is gorgeous, drawing audible sounds of approval from the audience.

It’s hard to take one’s eyes off Higgins’ home with its tall walls and cases full of trophies and other objects — most especially when the floor rotates to reveal Higgins’ mother’s lavish mansion-like home artfully decorated with beautiful accessories.

Against many suggestions, playwright Shaw was always adamant that “Pygmalion” was never intended to be a happy-ever-after experience. Nicholas Martin serves that objective well with this direction.

In her Cinderella-like role Parry invites both empathy and pride throughout her journey. Leonard plays the man we admire but dislike with an even excellence. Whitehead is engaging and Don Sparks is zany and comical as Eliza’s estranged father. Kandis Chapell is totally transparent as a mother who is proud of her scientific son, but appalled every time he opens his mouth.

Audiences will appreciate everything about this production, especially the laughs that just keep coming.

Robert Sean leonard: Life after Dead Poets Society
Talented, cute and alive and well. Actor, Robert Sean Leonard has resurfaced again after a brief absence to star in the new movie Mr & Mrs Bridge. He tells Jenny Tucker why he couldn't kiss his mum!

Robert Sean Leonard. The name means very little. But when it comes to the face, well... Recognisable as the lead boy in the 1989 surprise hit. Dead Poets Society, in which he played Neil Perry, the stage-struck schoolboy who commits suicide, Robert is one of those actors who's identified by his firm jawline and ink-black eyes.

Not that he’s complaining, of course, the film gave him the push into notoriety that he’d been striving towards, and now his days of standing at the back of the queue, waiting for bit parts, are over.

Peter Weir, the director of Dead Poets Society purposely chose a bunch of unknowns for the film, which was a stroke of luck for Robert who was bowled over when he heard he'd been selected for the cast.

"I couldn’t believe it at first," he remembers. "l was pretty ecstatic. The film sort of took me by surprise. The success of Dead Poets shocked me, I knew people would go to see it. but I never thought it would be so big. It's a real beautiful story, though, about the glory of people. Plus, of course, Robin Williams was starring in it."

It'd be fair to assume that Robert spent many a frivolous hour whiling away free time between scenes swapping comic lines with Robin, but, apparently, that wasn't the case.

"He was real sweet, real funny," explains Robert, "but we shot the whole film In twelve weeks and Robin was only there for about four of them. I didn’t really see him that much, but I do remember getting to the set early a couple of times and sitting watching the sunrise with him and Peter Weir. That was fun!"

Since all the excitement surrounding Dead Poets has lulled, Robert has settled down to a stretch of live theatre work. He's currently appearing in a production of Romeo and Juliet in his home town of New York. Today is Monday, his day off, and he’s taking things easy. He relaxes in his apartment, dividing his time between watching videos and reading - he’s engrossed in a heavyweight biography on the life of actor. Charles Laughton.

Unfortunately, though, he’s not feeling one hundred percent and thinks he may be coming down I with a chill.

"My voice is a bit shot," he says. "I've been playing Romeo on stage now for a week, and although it's going really well, it has put a bit of strain on me "

Almost 22, Robert isn't an apprentice on stage. born in Westwood, New Jersey, he moved to New York City at the age of 15 , and immediately began auditioning for various productions. With no formal training, it was sheer talent that landed him several understudy roles at the New York Shakespeare Festival. His major break came in the form of his Broadway debut in the hit play, Brighton Beach Memoirs.

"Theatre is my first love," he enthuses. "I’ve always stuck mainly to live work, but obviously films hold an interest for me too. When I was younger, I used to go for loads of film auditions, but never got them. I did try for Mosquito Coast with Harrison Ford, but River Phoenix beat me to it. I suppose I just wasn’t right for the role. It didn't bother me, though, I was young and just kept going."

After a couple of forgettable movies (The Manhattan Project and My Best Friend Is A Vampire) Robert struck lucky with Dead Poets Society. He's now set to get patted on the back once again for his role as Douglas in the new Merchant Ivory film, Mr & Mrs Bridge, which follows the life of a conventional upper middle class family living in Kansas during the late thirties. Robert stars as the painfully awkward son of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward (who are married in real life). Douglas loves his parents, but finds them totally annoying and embarrassing, his mother treats him with childish naivety (when she thinks he might be starting to get interested in girls she thrusts ‘a guide to marital bliss' under his nose) and his father keeps him at an arm’s length - consequently, their relationships are all slightly off key.

There's one memorable scene in Mr & Mrs Bridge where Douglas attends a boy scout ceremony and is called upon to kiss his mother. As all the other scouts peck their mums on the cheek, Douglas shuffles uneasily, desperately trying to force himself to follow their example. Eventually, he looks away - he just can't bear any form of close contact with her. The scene is really quite disturbing as it obviously causes Douglas and Mr and Mrs Bridge much discomfort and pain. Robert agrees:

"The whole film is all about being unable to communicate - something that can be extremely hard to come to terms with. My part was difficult because Douglas almost connects with his mother and he almost connects with his dad, but it never quite happens, so it's a really frustrating situation.

"The film captures the sort of feelings we all experience with our families. When you’re growing up, everything your parents do annoys and embarrasses you. I did feel like that to a degree with my mum and dad, but I’m actually very fond of them. I started acting at an early age and they always encouraged me and came to see me in all my shows. My parents gave their lives to me and without me and my brothers and sisters, their lives wouldn't be whole. The feelings parents have for their children are very unique, and I don't think I'll understand that fully until I have kids of my own."

With two veteran actors like Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward alongside him. It seems that the pair would feel protective towards their screen son. Robert admits that the couple did take him under their wing, especially Joanne who is very warm and open. Paul is a little more reserved. Even though they left Robert alone to create his own style of acting it seems the couple rate his ability - since their initial meeting, they've both been to see him in every theatrical appearance he's made. Surely he feels nervous knowing that two pairs of seasoned eyes are scrutinising his performance?

"No. not really." he shrugs, "It's the critics I get more uptight about... God I hate critics! Loads of my friends come to watch me on stage, so I suppose I've got used to it. Actually, five out of the seven boys from Dead Poets surprised me and came to Romeo on Saturday. That was great!"

Robert still socialises with his co-stars from the film, but he admits that although many of his friends are in the business, he doesn't really know anyone hugely famous. He's not the sort to rub shoulders with Rob Lowe in a late night bar or hang out at celebrity gatherings. And he also insists he doesn't have time for a girlfriend. He's more inclined to be found at home, doing the washing-up or enjoying the company of close friends. The glitz of movieland causes him to screw up his nose in distaste and he sometimes wonders what all the fuss is about where better-known actors are concerned.

"I wouldn't say Tom Cruise is the best in the business. Sometimes I look at what these people are doing and wish I could have a crack at it. I actually rate Daniel Day Lewis and Matthew Broderick quite highly. I think they're both brilliant actors."

Yet, surprisingly enough, it’s not an Oscar award that Robert wants sitting on his mantelpiece - its a framed photo of Bobbie junior.

"Someday I'd really like to have a family, he coos. "I want to continue the way I’m going — working, enjoying having good friends and then, when it's right, I'd like to be a parent. You know, all the normal things "

At twilight in the busy cocktail lounge of Balboa Park’s Prado restaurant, Robert Sean Leonard is working his way through an early dinner when a fan edges up to the table.

She knows his face; the name, not so much.

“Hi, you’re the actor — Robin Williams, ‘Carpe diem’?” she asks haltingly, referencing Leonard’s co-star from 1989’s “Dead Poets Society” and a signature phrase from that movie. Leonard introduces himself to the flustered fan, accepts a compliment graciously, then gets back to an interview.

“I’m never recognized in Thousand Oaks,” he muses with a smile about his quiet existence in the town north of Los Angeles, where he lives on a horse ranch with his wife and two young daughters. “Maybe because people don’t give a (hoot). Or maybe because they know who I am all too well.”

At 43, the actor with the still-boyish face and the easygoing demeanor has achieved a place in the public consciousness somewhere between the familiar and the seriously famous; he’s that guy you know even if maybe you don’t quite know him.

If Leonard is something other than a certified pop-culture brand, though, it might be partly because the breadth and complexity of his work over the years has made him so difficult to pigeonhole.

He’s been a movie star (“Dead Poets,” “Swing Kids,” “The Age of Innocence”); a television regular (eight years as a supporting player on the medical drama “House”); and a leading man on Broadway, with a dozen shows to his credit and a Tony Award for 2001’s “The Invention of Love.”

With “House” having just ended its run, the stage is calling to Leonard again after a long hiatus. He’s now appearing as Professor Henry Higgins in the Old Globe’s revival of the George Bernard Shaw classic “Pygmalion.”

Leonard has acted at the Globe just once before — two decades ago, opposite Hal Holbrook in director Jack O’Brien’s 1993 staging of “King Lear.” Yet his ties to the theater run deep: He has been friends for years with Globe artistic director Barry Edelstein, and O’Brien — the theater’s former artistic chief — directed him in that Broadway production of “Invention.”

He even came close to working at the Globe as a teenager; Leonard was part of the original New York workshop of the Stephen Sondheim-composed musical “Into the Woods,” which eventually premiered at the Globe in 1986 and went on to become a Broadway hit.

At the time, Leonard had been offered a part in the teen movie “My Best Friend Is a Vampire”; James Lapine, the writer-director of “Into the Woods,” urged him to take it.

“I don’t know if he’d remember this, but he said ‘You know what, Robert? Do the movie. Your future is not in the musical theater.’ And for what it’s worth, I think he was right. I’ve done musicals, but it’s not my bread and butter.”

Discovering Henry

Of course, the iconic role of Higgins — the self-satisfied English linguist who undertakes to remake the flower girl Eliza Doolittle (played by Charlotte Parry) into a society lady — isn’t what Leonard considers a perfect fit for him, either.

“There are roles I would say that about,” he demurs. “But I didn’t know this role very well. I knew Leslie Howard’s take on it (in the 1938 movie). I always thought of Henry Higgins as quite natty; I think of Rex Harrison (from the musical adaptation “My Fair Lady”) and ascots, and I don’t see myself as that at all.”

In the process of working on the play, though, he has come to a very different perception of the character.

“He’s a little bit of a bad boy,” Leonard says. “He’s a mess, he has no manners — everyone says so. He’s rude to people. He’s like the Robert Downey Jr. of his time.”

And Leonard does feel “Pygmalion” made a good fit in terms of helping him dip his toes back into theater.

“It’s great that it’s here,” he says. ”I love the Globe, I love the West Coast. It’s maybe not a role I could get on Broadway.

“So I’m thrilled it’s where it is, I’m thrilled it’s with who it is. I love Nicky (Martin, the production’s director). I’ve known Barry my whole career. It’s a nice time.”

Robert Sean Leonard on …

TV acting: “The hours are so long. And the sun comes up and the sun goes down, and man, you’re still there. You don’t see your kids. I mean, you’re well compensated — overly compensated, to say the least. So you can’t complain about it. But it’s not fun. Besides the money, there’s nothing good about it. It’s just a drag.”

Taking on Henry Higgins at the Globe: “I was terrified to play Higgins. I really was. There are a lot of ghosts in this profession of mine. You don’t ever walk into a play on your own. There are many people behind you, taunting you.”

Working in theater: “I do have a love for it. Theater’s a very lovable thing. … I love my family more. And I may love reading Stephen King books by the fire more, at this point.”

Guesting on the sci-fi TV show “Falling Skies” with friend Noah Wyle: “They recently sent me a crew gift, and honestly, I was a little excited. I was like, ‘Oooo, I hope it’s a show jacket!’ And I haven’t worn a show jacket in my life. I didn’t wear a ‘House’ hat in 10 years. But I actually would like to wear a ‘Falling Skies’ hat. I feel a weird kind of pride about it.”

A better time, from the sound of it, than his first go-round at the Globe, when he played the good guy Edgar in “Lear,” the Bard’s great tragedy.

“I didn’t like the role,” Leonard admits now. “It’s not a fun role. Shakespeare — my theory is he hated young men. I played Romeo, Edgar in ‘Lear,’ and Claudio in ‘Much Ado.’ And they’re all pretty horrible roles.

“So I didn’t like the experience of playing the role. But I thought it was a good production.”

Youthful passion

Like a lot of accomplished stage actors, Leonard started very young; unlike many, he jumped almost straight into professional work, rather than the usual route of school and youth productions.

“My dad often says that he admired my headstrong beginnings,” says the New Jersey native and high school dropout (he eventually did earn an equivalency diploma, and pursued some college studies at Fordham and Columbia).

“I don’t think of it that way — I don’t recall it being that way. But I started at the Public (Theater) when I was 14. I don’t know if I would go into it now, with a family. But at 14, you’re not thinking. It’s not so much bravery as indifference to danger. You don’t know it exists.

“(So) I didn’t have the ‘Glee’ childhood. Probably luckily. I don’t have many regrets about school. I had a better time with Swoosie Kurtz and George Grizzard (his co-stars in the 1985 off-Broadway play ‘The Beach House’) than I would’ve at my prom.”

The Public in New York happens to be the theater that Globe artistic chief Edelstein was helping lead when the Globe hired him last fall. But it’s not where he and Leonard met; in fact, Leonard isn’t quite sure where they first crossed paths.

“I could tell you more about girls he kissed in bars over the past 30 years than I could tell you about the Public Theater (connection),” Leonard says. “We’d see each other after (shows), in bars, when we were young. When we were idiots.” (For the record: Edelstein is long since married, with kids of his own.)

Also, Leonard notes, Edelstein “directed Uma (Thurman), one of my best friends’ wives, in a Molière play a long time ago.”

The play was “The Misanthrope” (in 1999), and the best friend was (and is) Ethan Hawke, whom Leonard has known since their “Dead Poets” days.

Leonard thinks back on those early, madly passionate years of their careers with fondness but not a yearning to return.

“Between the ages of 14 and 24, it doesn’t feel like work, because you’re so full of yourself,” he says. “You are the center of the universe, and you meet Ethan Hawke at 2 in the morning at the White Horse Tavern to discuss ‘Romeo and Juliet’ because it feels that important.

“Whereas now it’d be, ‘Are you out of your (bleeding) mind? Who cares whether you play Mercutio or I play Mercutio?’ ”

Leonard sounds especially turned off by the idea of a full-time television career: “Making TV is really horrible,” as he puts it, citing primarily the difficult hours for a family man. Still, he says he loved “House” star Hugh Laurie and the rest of the show’s team, and he’s quick to acknowledge that “House” has given him welcome financial freedom. (He’s also unabashedly excited about his upcoming guest gig on the sci-fi series “Falling Skies,” alongside his old pal Noah Wyle.)

“I’ve been really spoiled,” he says. “I’m a spoiled little Chihuahua. I’ve been doing what I want for my whole career, and being paid pretty well for it.”

And while he has a demanding role in “Pygmalion,” Leonard also insists that “I don’t find stage work hard.” Even if he finds it hard to picture what it’s like for audiences to watch him in a role like Henry.

“I can’t imagine seeing me in it,” as he puts it. “But luckily, I never have to.”

“Why can’t a woman be more like a man?” wails Professor Henry Higgins, voice dripping exasperation after his “project” Eliza Doolittle behaves like – well, like a woman, and a human at that.

The world’s most famous professor is back onstage at The Old Globe, making a princess out of a flower girl and proving once again that a great story is timeless.

The Old Globe celebrates the 100th anniversary of George Bernard Shaw’s “Pygmalion” with this sparkling production directed by newly named Old Globe Associate Artist Nicholas Martin.

Alexander Dodge’s fine revolving set is the backdrop for Shaw’s version of the old Greek myth about the sculptor who falls in love with his creation. Shaw’s sculptor is the overeducated but ill-mannered Professor Henry Higgins (Robert Sean Leonard), a phonetician who studies speech patterns and can pinpoint where a person lives (or was brought up) by the way he or she speaks.

This day, near Covent Garden, he spots pretty young flower girl Eliza Doolittle (Charlotte Parry), with a bedraggled look and anything but a pretty way of speaking. Her Cockney accent, in fact, is so grating as to be painful to listen to.

Colonel Pickering (Paxton Whitehead), another phonetician, arrives to find Higgins taking notes on Eliza’s speech patterns.

“She’s so deliciously low,” Higgins notes, and bets Pickering that, with his instruction, he can pass Eliza off as a duchess in a matter of months. The bet is made, without consideration of what will happen to Eliza if she succeeds.

You know the rest of the story. Eliza comes to live with the two old bachelors and housekeeper Mrs. Pearce (a spot-on Deborah Taylor) while Higgins trains her.

It’s little surprise that she succeeds spectacularly at her “coming out party.” It’s also less than a shock that instead of crediting Eliza, the insensitive Higgins ignores the girl while he and Pickering spend the night drinking and congratulating themselves.

Small wonder that the spunky Eliza, who just wants “a little kindness,” stomps out in a huff, vowing to marry the useless and rather dim Freddy Eynsford Hill (Robbie Simpson) and support him by teaching phonetics.

“Pygmalion” succeeds because the characters are believable and fascinating – and, in this production, spectacularly played. I mustn’t forget one of my favorites – Eliza’s dustman father Mr. Doolittle, played so well by Don Sparks that he steals every scene he’s in.

Henry’s mother Mrs. Higgins is not to be left out, either. Wonderfully played by Old Globe favorite Kandis Chappell, she projects elegance and style, and
displays more than a little chagrin at her son’s boorish behavior.

Robert Morgan’s costumes are top-notch, Mark Bennett contributes appropriate original music, and lighting and sound are well handled by Philip S. Rosenberg and Drew Levy.

A Shaw play is always a pleasure to watch, and this production is a particularly fine example.