Audrey Francis sits in a fancy chair in the top-floor library of Steppenwolf Theatre, where she oversees programming as one of two artistic directors. She’s about to answer a reporter’s question when a brisk knock sounds on the glass door.
Amy Morton, who is scheduled for an interview after Francis, pushes past a public relations staffer and enters the room. Asked if she’s comfortable answering questions in front of her director, Morton flashes a middle finger at Francis and takes a seat in a high-backed royal blue leather chair. They both laugh.
Morton, the two-time Tony nominated actress, joined Steppenwolf’s ensemble in 1997 and is one of the actors most associated with both its gritty brand of American theater and its ensemble model. Across her career, she has moved fluently between TV and theater, though these days, she’s likely more recognizable for her yearslong stint on television as Sgt. Trudy Platt on NBC’s “Chicago P.D.”
But the Oak Park native is making her way back to Steppenwolf — her artistic home, as she calls it — for the first time in eight years. She’s doing so in part to work with Francis, her former student, whom she’s known for more than 20 years. It neatly illustrates how Steppenwolf, which was recognized with two Tonys on theater’s biggest stage this month, remains a place where generations of top-tier theater talent often share the same stage.
“I read the script and I loved it,” said Morton. “Then, when [Francis] said she wanted to direct it, I was like, ‘I’m in.’ ”
As actor and director, the duo power Steppenwolf’s latest production, “You Will Get Sick,” opening Sunday and running through July 20. The show, a Chicago premiere written by Noah Diaz, is about an unlikely friendship between a terminally ill patient (Namir Smallwood) and his noticeably older caretaker (Morton).
“There’s not a lot of directors that I want to work with,” said Morton. “That’s just the way it is in theater. Directing is really hard. It’s stupid hard. So, when you find a good one, you want to keep working with them over and over.”
Morton and Francis first met back in 2004 in the School at Steppenwolf, a former 10-week intensive summer acting program led by ensemble members.
“I’ll never forget when I was in my 20s and Amy was my teacher,” said Francis, who now calls Morton her mentor. “I remember thinking that she was such an awesome teacher, and I learned so much from her about acting and theater, but more about how to be a respectable, courageous human being.”
Francis remembers Morton hanging out with students outside of class and her joy in seeing them succeed.
Asked about her first memories of Francis, the seasoned actor Morton shoots her director a quick grin.
“She was hilarious,” said Morton. “She made me laugh, and that’s always important. But she also was a gamer. She’ll try anything.”
Over the next two decades, Morton and Francis remained close. Francis became an assistant at the Steppenwolf school as she launched into her professional acting career; she said Morton was a huge supporter of her endeavors. In recent years, the two have taught acting classes together.
Later in the day, during rehearsals, the chemistry between the two is even more apparent.
For starters, they just happened to both wear jean jackets to rehearsal. Then they are working on a scene featuring Morton and Smallwood. The scene is complex to stage and needs precise timing to work.
In the scene, Smallwood, whose character uses a wheelchair, has a surreal stroke, and his mind becomes disconnected from his body. Another actor, Jordan Arredondo, is located underneath the stage, voicing Smallwood’s conscience over speakers.
Working with the playwright, sound designer, lighting designer and stage manager, the actors and director must sync the voice of the actor offstage with the movements onstage — a set of directions that include Smallwood falling from the wheelchair onto the stage floor.
But the moment is proving hard to nail. Everyone in the room speaks at once to try to solve the problem. Morton and Francis in particular go back and forth, nearly finishing each other’s sentences, until finally Morton proffers the winning solution.
Francis says loudly, “Once again, Amy solved it.” She adds with a chuckle, “See how problematic she is.”
“There is a trust that they have with one another that is palpable,” Smallwood said of the pair. “You can’t miss it. There’s a love between the two of them as people and as artists that is really cool to see. Audrey is a beast. She’s a really good director.”
Morton does have a reputation for being what some may call tough and others would say is radically straightforward. She’s funny. And curses a lot. And says exactly what she thinks — which comes from her approach to acting.
Morton champions the Meisner technique of acting, which even she admits can be a bit frightening. The method requires actors to play off each other’s behaviors and be vulnerable and brutally honest with scene partners.
“The whole point of Meisner is connection and listening,” said Morton. “Before the writer puts words on the paper, the writer has an impulse, and that impulse is what you’re trying to get at as an actor.”
One recurring word that came up speaking to Morton was “bulls—.” In fact, she said that’s what makes Steppenwolf’s brand of ensemble theater, which includes both high-profile, seasoned actors like Morton and up-and-comers like Smallwood. There are no egos. Everyone can call “bulls—” when necessary.
“Everybody has a bull—- meter, and they’re not afraid to cry bull—- on somebody else’s bull—-,” explained Morton. “So, the acting has to be honest or it doesn’t feel like it’s part of this particular institution.”
Before we wrap the interview, I ask Morton what she likes about Francis as a director. And of course, she gives it to me straight:
“She directs like I do. Which is great.”
Mike Davis is WBEZ’s theater reporter.