Eric Michael Gillett

by Alix Cohen

Eric Michael Gillett, the 27th ringmaster at the Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey Circus,

swiveled on the arena floor to see a tiger had escaped from the cage. As it came towards the

seats, he instinctively opened his arms wide, palms flat “so the tiger would go in the

opposite direction.” It was a tremendously dangerous situation. “The tiger doesn’t want to

be out any more than you want him to be out,” he recalled offhandedly. Eric Michael had

fronted rock bands, acted in theater and musicals around the country, traveled Guatemala

with a revue, danced and sung at the MGM Grand (now the Bally’s Grand) in Las Vegas, and

Unlike most committed thespians, Eric Michael had no youthful ambitions to go into the

business. He and his mother, her sister and his cousin Steven, who was five years older, lived

on Venice Beach in California from when he was five until he was seven. The “big thing” was

collecting bottles. Eric Michael, who was cute, would troll the sand securing the promise of

empty bottles. When Steven got there, he would be refused and asked whether he knew

Eric. The younger boy became the front man, his cousin the manual labor. “I’d get a

percentage. He ended up in banking and I ended up being sort of the charm guy.”

At seven, now in Culver City, Eric Michael would look out his window and see the original

MGM billboard above the studio itself. He was crazy about the movies, especially horror

when these two fishermen throw in a pot roast to attract the shark…a man is pulled into the

water with a piece of the dock…the guy is swimming madly towards shore followed by the

out of the water.” It never occurred to Eric to dream of film as his future.

often pregnant. The family moved to Orange County for more space. He studied cello “I like

the mournful sound, which is interesting because I’m not a mournful person,” until one day

on a hill in a rainstorm, he slipped and ended up literally riding the instrument down. As a

soprano in the school choir, he learned just enough to begin to read music. Music, then?

Voice? No. Eric Michael planned to teach. In third grade, his teacher heard a lateral lisp and

got him into speech therapy. “I sounded British for years, but didn’t develop the handicap

that would’ve put me in a terrible position in school.” He had great admiration for teachers.

As it changed to tenor in high school, Eric Michael’s voice cracked. Having no idea what was

home, Eric Michael was familiar with the piece. He knew Jud Fry didn’t really sing and

on version of Gene Nelson singing from the soundtrack” and got the part. “I didn’t

Ritschel. She’s the woman to whom I give all the credit for any career I have.” Eric still

studies with Ritschel whenever he can.

At Cal State Fullerton, Eric Michael

began to take theater courses. By then,

he’d met enough bitter teachers to

inadvertently change his path. Theater

was fun. He could do it. He’d been

fronting rock bands since he was 17,

still singing in other voices—notably

Denny Doherty of The Mamas and The

Papas and John Lennon. A transfer to

Cyprus College was aborted by getting

work in a series of rock musicals. It was

Sacramento. The show went bankrupt half way through the run and the cast was locked out

of their hotel rooms. Welcome to the profession. There was work on a cruise line, then a

tour as a “Cole Porter Singers” in Guatemala.

When he returned, the only offer Eric Michael received was The Dr. Pepper Revue at The

considering himself an actor, he took temp jobs for six months unsure what he wanted to do

next. The day before his 25th birthday, his friend and former performing partner, Ann Peck,

later, I sat straight up in bed and thought if I don’t go, I can never call myself an actor again.”

His Eureka moment.

Director Donn Arden was brutal. “He’d line women up across the stage with their tits out,

walk across and say, no, no, no, stay. With the boys, it was their butts.” And they had a

height requirement, actually several depending on whether you were a dancing nude, a

pony, a singer, a principal. “I was clueless.” The singer before Eric Michael was short. Arden

ripped into him. It was nasty. Just like the moment in high school when his classmate got

snarky, Eric Michael got angry, not scared, angry.

He sang four bars and stopped. “That’s it?!” snapped Arden. “What I sang has every note in

the song. If I sing anymore you’ve already heard it,” retorted Eric Michael. “Do ya dance?”

Arden asked, “do a turn! “I could do one kind of turn, which I did, four times.” “Do

somethin’ else,” commanded Arden. “If you wanna see something else, show me something

else,” Eric Michael answered. The response: “Siddown.” “I thought, well, that’s the end of

that.” He got the job. Two years, twelve shows a week. He sang, danced and ended up

covering for several leads. Being a Donn Arden boy in Las Vegas was tantamount to being a

Ziegfeld Girl on Broadway. Eric Michael worked hard, learned discipline, and made friends.

Back in L.A., his friend, KT Sullivan, got him his first club job at an Italian restaurant, called La

Strada. Eric Michael remembers standing with Sullivan as she called to suggest him for it.

She listened, turned to Eric Michael and said, “Darling, you’re a baritone aren’t you?” “No,

actually, “he answered, “I’m a tenor.” “Yes, he’s a baritone,” she said into the phone.

“Darling, you have a tuxedo, don’t you?” she asked. “No, actually, I don’t have a tuxedo.”

“Yes, he has one. I’ll tell him.” And then to Eric Michael, “You’re on tonight.”

After a time, he found himself back in Las Vegas doing Bal du Moulin Rouge, the American

premiere of the show that actually played The Moulin Rouge in Paris. They built a million

dollar sequence around him as a ringmaster. A ringmaster. One day he received a message:

convinced Eric Michael to become the actual ringmaster of The Ringling Bros. and Barnum

and Bailey Circus. He was 35. “I thought I’d do a year and it would be my Johnny Carson

story.” He stayed 11 years. “It was a wonderful job and sort of a summation of everything I’d

learned to do.” Each tour lasted 2 years, 6 days a week, with barely two weeks off between.

The first year was rough. Eric Michael played the part as he conceived it, learning only by

experience. “There’s no greater family…Everybody’s into everybody’s business. You work

with him, taking a job in the wardrobe department so as not to be idle. “She had her own

friends and social life…every Sunday, a steak and a martini…I learned more about my

mother that year…”

“I still wanted to do the original cast of a Broadway show. I wanted to paint on a larger

Circus; a kind of homecoming). Somehow, while he was working all over the country six days

a week, he managed to put together cabaret acts, flying in and out of New York presenting

one show a year. When he returned, he was not an unknown. He did a few nights at The

Then a new chapter began. He accepted a job directing Valerie Lemon as Jane Froman.

development, they replaced their musical director and hired Don Rebic…who introduced

him to Karen Akers. “She’s a great actress and a marvelous interpreter.” Eric Michael has

been collaborating with Akers as her director for six years now.

He also currently directs KT Sullivan, Karen Oberlin,

young performers and “new resumes”: people who have

been singing for years but don’t have many

opportunities to do an act. “I take on artists when they

have something to get off their chest…It’s my job to

find what swan they see in the block of ice and make

sure they build the swan… the same with teaching.” Eric

Michael teaches acting at HB Studio and voice at Singers

Forum.

affinity with Carnelia’s songs. “I’m sure it appears that

I’m working, but I don’t have to work very hard with Craig’s songs because they’re

me…they illuminate me.” Recently he has gone back to the piece and is reworking it.

What do you want to do that you haven’t done? “Wow. Take a vacation. And I don’t mean to

be glib. I put so much of myself onstage because no one can get to me. No phone rings, no

directing…that’s my bucket list”

I, for one, doubt he’ll ever give up one or the other. This is a man who is loves the process, is

dedicated to fostering talent, and is having a wonderful time.