Scenic designer and director David Gallo recounts his experience directing Al Pacino in a mid‑1990s production of the only one‑person play Eugene O’Neill completed before his death, part of the “By Way of Obit” series. He describes the play’s premise—a down‑on‑his‑luck gambler in a Midtown fleabag hotel who converses with a clerk about a dead predecessor—and the intense, actor‑centric rehearsal process. Gallo explains how he and actor Paul Benedict (who was given lines not in the script) used immersive techniques such as closing their eyes, listening to the city, and walking its streets to capture the setting’s vibe. He details Pacino’s methodical approach, the structure of run‑throughs, and the collaborative dynamic among director, actors, and designer. The narrative culminates with a personal anecdote about an unexpected, serendipitous encounter with Pacino in a Midtown bar after Gallo introduced a Cuban dive‑buddy to his work, underscoring the surreal nature of the experience.
Chapters
Huey. God. Director. Al Pacino. There's a, there's a, there's a, you know, director. First-time director. Wow. He was amazing. And nothing like a first-time director. With Mr. Pacino, it was a show I did in the mid-'90s. It was very much an actor process, but it led to director decisions quite readily. I can describe it to you, but it really was quite remarkable. You get these people who are extraordinary talents in a discipline and then move into a cross-discipline which sounds very similar, but in a lot of ways isn't, in a lot of ways, you know, is. It was one of the last things that O'Neill wrote, and it was under a series of plays that he was going to write called By Way of Obit. And each one of the plays was less than an hour, and it was one person talking about another dead person. It was the only one O'Neill wrote when he died. It's a wonderful piece of theater. It's about a guy who is a down-on-his-luck gambler that lives in a fleabag hotel in Midtown, and he's been on a 4-day bender, and he comes back to the hotel and he talks all night to the clerk who ignores him. And we find out that the man who died was the previous clerk, and that the gambler and the previous clerk lived a life of fantasy that they wove together. It's a beautiful little thing, but it's basically a heavy-duty one-person monologue. I mean, it's an acting tour de force. And then, so it's Al Pacino, and then Paul Benedict played the other guy. We gave him lines because he didn't have any in the script. I mean, there's written stage descriptions that we used because, but process was being in a, started being in a room very similar to this and just closing our eyes and listening to the city. It's one of the reasons why I close my eyes so much when I watch shows, when I watch readings. It was listening. It was listening to the city, and then it was walking around the city and trying to capture that vibe of that place. He's heavy, heavy process. I don't want to speak for him as far as how method he is, but holy shit, you know what I mean? Like, not quite into self-mutilation territory, do you know what I mean? But he— well, nowhere near, let's say, Steppenwolf. But those guys are fucking crazy. We tried very hard to actually find a Fleabag hotel we could stay in. But they just don't exist anymore. So it was a lot of just conversations, a lot of thinking, and a lot of time together, and a lot of time in the rehearsal room. And he only would do run-throughs. He would always start at the beginning and then stop at the end. Then it would be him, Paul Benedict, and me. And that's how I designed it. I'm like, with this Cuban chick, and she's really cute. She was a dive buddy. Okay, this wasn't just some girl. Like, I was out on the dive trip in the Gulf of Mexico, and one of the chicks on the boat who could really dive was this Cuban girl. So anyway, we get together in New York, and she knew nothing about theater. And so I take her to this restaurant in Midtown after seeing one of my shows. She's like, "Oh yeah, well, what do you do?" Like, "Oh yeah, this, how you do that?" Like, "Okay, did you meet the guy?" Because I said, you know, my first show was Al Pacino. She goes, "Did you meet him? That's what everybody asks." I go, "Oh yeah, yeah." She's like, "Oh really?" Okay. I swear to God, we turned back to the bar, 2 fucking seconds later, tap me on the shoulder. "Mr. Gill, what are you doing here?" I turn around, fucking Al Pacino. I was like, holy crap. So I said, "Jessie, this is Al. Al, this is Jessie." What are the chances of that shit happening? I swear to God.
