Alan Cumming On What Sucks Vs. Is Great About Fame, On Having His Own Club to Dance At, and on The Joy of Not Leaving the Hotel Room
He's currently the opulently dressed host of the hit Scottish-castle reality show "The Traitors"—one of many projects that requires juggling like a boss, not the impishness of his public persona.

Hi there Caftan readers, all of whom I’m so grateful for. I’m so happy spring (or perhaps should we just call it early summer?) is finally here. I write this today with my curtains blowing slightly from the breeze coming in and that fucking ice-cream truck “Pop Goes the Weasel” playing over and over again in my kid-heavy neighborhood in Queens. (It’s the bane of my spring, summer and fall, triggering my madness, making me feel like Faye as Joan when she sees wire hangers. I have come close to running out into the street and throttling the truck driver.)
I won’t go deep into politics and the affairs of the world except to say that, perhaps like you, I’m feeling anger and fear and despair every day, multiple times a day, and am truly at a bit of a loss as to what to do about it that would actually make a difference. (That’s partly why I volunteer tutor ESL to immigrants once weekly, because it’s something small I can do that actually makes a difference and I don’t have to overthink it. It’s usually the happiest moment of my week.) And along with those bad feelings, it’s spring and all I want to do is travel and go to the beach and dance and have fun, which leaves me feeling a bit like Sally Bowles. Especially after seeing the latest production of Cabaret on Broadway with Eddie Redmayne recently…
….(which I really didn’t like, but that’s another story), I’ve been thinking about the dilemma it presents, which seems unbearably relevant to the present moment, which is how much do we a. follow and despair over what’s going on, versus b. try to do something about it, even if it’s getting out before it’s too late, versus c. shrug and say, “In here”—here being whatever bubble of pleasure we make for ourselves— “everything is beautiful!”
Actually, Cabaret is a great lead-in to this interview, because it’s with Alan Cumming, who you probably know rewrote the role of the original Joel Grey’s emcee when he starred in that sexy, sleazy late ’90s Sam Mendes West End/Broadway revival, which popped up again in 2014.
However, in the interview below, we don’t talk about Cabaret at all. What I love about these Caftan interviews is that, unlike if I were doing interviews for New York magazine, as I once did, I don’t have to ask people about anything they’re currently doing, or ever did, that I’m not interested in—and often what dictates my interest is a hunch that talking about those things isn’t particularly interesting to them, especially if it’s in the past. I will say that Alan currently is the host of a reality-show on the Peacock platform (or whatever you call channels these days) called The Traitors that is like an elaborate version of the parlor game “Murder,” but set in a massive Scottish castle (not his, to be clear, although he does have a house somewhere in Scotland.)
The recent thing of Alan’s I wish I could share with you is his one-man show (with great music) called Alan Cumming Is Not Acting His Age. Alas, it’s not viewable online, except for bits like this…
Alan’s assistant Michael gave me a private copy to watch, and it helped me formulate my thinking about what to ask him for this interview, because much of it is about, well, aging. (Alan will be 60 very soon.)
I asked Alan to do the interview partly because I know him just a little bit from a TV project we worked on a few years ago that sadly didn’t come to fruition, despite a lot of work on everyone’s part, including Alan’s. But working with him on it, I definitely saw an Alan different from the naughty, impish Alan that often comes through in his stage and screen work. I should say right up front that I think he is a really intelligent, principled and overall really kind and sane guy, but there’s also a very businesslike, alpha-driver quality, a slight sharp edge, that is a bit intimidating.
Another big reason I wanted to talk to him is that I’ve seen him out and about at gay parties all these years (such as the amazing and still-running regular Mattachine party at Julius’, the beloved and ancient gay bar in the Village). He always seemed very exuberantly determined that despite rather substantial fame—which we talk about quite a bit, much to my interest, because I believe fame is a truly weird and sometimes unhappy state of being that the vast majority of people will never experience or understand—he was going to go out and be a regular downtown gay and drink and dance and be a bit naughty.

I’ve always loved that side of him. I guess I’ll also admit something here that I didn’t share with him, because it’s awkward to tell this to someone, which is that my entire adult life in NYC, people have been asking me if I am him or telling me I look just like him. You decide…
I don’t think we really look alike—I think people say this because we kind of have the same face shape, as well as hair.
Alan’s nice assistant Michael told me that, amid a very busy schedule, Alan could give me 90 minutes. That’s a nice chunk of time but it’s also not the three or four hours that these interviews sometimes run with less booked people. But I like the challenge of that parameter because it makes me think about what I really want to talk to him about, and what I think he’ll really want to talk about, and that’s usually not work. He’s a gay guy (uh, actually he’s bisexual—something I wasn’t really aware of going into the interview, and hence didn’t ask him about in my typical nosy way) who’s approaching 60 who’s very smart and well-read and cares about the world he lives in and has a lot of interesting creative and social impulses. That was enough for me. You can let me know how I did. I think it’s a pretty good interview, largely because Alan’s really open about what he wants to be open about, as you’ll see. I didn’t have to do a lot of tooth extraction.
So here we go. But first I’ll share one more thing, which is that recently I came very close to a brush with lucrative corporate servitude before I realized that I couldn’t give up the luxury of the time that allows me to do things like The Caftan Chronicles. And the realization has made me want to double down on Caftan and really try to give you more going forward. It’s so rewarding to me, and I hope a little bit to you. It reflects exactly who and what I want to talk and write about, and nothing I have to.
So please stick with me, and, once again, I’ll ask that if you’ve subscribed free for a while and really like it, please considering parting with that $5/month.
And oh—before I forget, I want to make a little pitch again about my friends Tom and Abi’s Gayletter Substack, because I think they’re doing something akin to what I’m doing here —really going into our lives—but perhaps from more of a millennial/Gen Z angle, which is so cool and sexy and fun.

So consider supporting them too, please. They love art and music and culture but they’re also thirsty trashy horndogs, and I can relate to that.)
Okay, so now here is the interview with Alan…

Tim: Alan, thank you so much for talking today. So I know you have homes in NYC, in the Catskills and in Scotland, and that you travel a lot for work, so this might be an unanswerable question, but, in general, what is a typical day like for you from start to finish?
Alan: Well, I'm in Scotland right now, in my house looking out over the Scottish Highlands. I'm here about to shoot Season 3 of The Traitors.
Tim: fI see on your Instagram that your mom is still around and in Scotland. Are you near to her?
Alan: Yes, she lives in Angus, where I grew up, which is about a three-hour drive from my house. She's 86 and she's very sprightly. She goes walking every day and she's learning pottery. So I've kind of gone back to my ancestral area.
Tim: Have you found that as you got older you started missing Scotland?
Alan: I've always had a place in London which I've never given up, but maybe around the beginning of the 2010s I felt that I didn't want to go to London so much and was drawn more to Scotland. It feels like a natural part of the life journey, that as you age you want to have more of a connection to where you came from—like Shakespeare's The Seven Ages of Man.
Also, Scotland has changed a lot [since I grew up here] and I feel excited about it as a country, especially with the way that my adopted country, the USA, is going. You can walk down the street here and nobody near you has a gun. In addition to the more primal thing of feeling connected to this land and these people. That becomes stronger. And it's interesting how my work has taken me here more often. Also, the National Theater of Scotland (NTS) was one of the first things the Scottish government created when it enacted devolution [Parliamentary independence from the UK] in 1997. I've worked for the NTS a lot and continue to. Like the one-man Macbeth that I did on Broadway in 2012—that was from the NTS.

And now for the NTS we're working on a musical version of a sitcom I wrote in the nineties.
Tim: I've actually never been to Scotland. Can you talk a bit about what it's like, especially in comparison to the rest of the UK?
Alan: It's an ancient country, of course, but it's also got a great sort of modern outlook. I think we're very proud people, very open. There's a tradition of big changes happening, like the Scottish Enlightenment. Big shifts have happened in Scottish history and I think we've always been a people very open to the rest of Europe. We're a very international city, because in previous times when Scotland and England were not united, there was a direct shipping route from mainland Europe, France. Also here, you can fall over and there's a castle under you. We've got a great sense of history. People are quite garrulous and we enjoy letting go and having a laugh. We enjoy talking and arguing.
But also I feel like it's ingrained in your DNA when you live here that fairness and justice and looking out for people is really important, which I feel is very different from America, where it's every man for himself. Last year, I was here doing a theater piece about Robert Burns, our great Scottish poet…
…and Grant [Shaffer, an artist/illustrator], my husband, was with me and he got an ear infection. So we managed to get him to a doctor on a Saturday who examined him and prescribed him some medicine—and then laughed at Grant when he got out his credit card because he didn't have to pay for it at all. In the U.S., I've told my doctor I have strep throat so I could get meds for a friend who actually did have strep but didn't have insurance.
Tim: I'm curious, when did your feelings about the U.S. change? With Trump?
Alan: They changed hugely with Trump, but even with [George W.] Bush getting in a second time, I was like what the fuck? And then I thought but I must stay and fight. The great thing about America is that it changes radically so often. From Bush to Obama was a huge, inspirational shift, and then of course look at the shift from Obama to Trump and this rise of anti-intellectualism and violence, including violence against so many people of color and trans and queer people. I didn't really feel those trends during Bush's time, but now it feels much more that those who want those things are given a platform, and that's scary to me.
Tim: Yeah, not to say that the U.S. has never been violent before—the country was founded on violence and there have been really violent chapters—but it does feel that in recent times, only since Trump has violence and extreme harassment like swatting people's homes, and the fear that inhibits people from doing even normal things like serving as election administrators because of the threats, become part of the political equation.

Alan: In the last election, I felt afraid. When you're in the public eye and you express your political views— I got death threats, but some became a little more than threats, and I got scared a couple times and thought, oh, I'm not being hysterical.
Tim: You got a specific threats?
Alan: I got various threats, and shortly after that, the power went out in my house in the Catskills, and I thought, wait, what? I imagined people with pitchforks and flames on torches were going to come up the hill to attack me. It turned out not to be the case—it was an area power outage—but all the evidence would suggest that [what I feared] was a possibility. It was happening elsewhere. I thought, wow, I'm actually living in a place where it would not be unusual for people to come and harm me because of what I just said on Instagram.
Tim: Do you feel that NYC is still a kind of bubble unto itself apart from the U.S.?
Alan: Yes, in that it's an island floating of the coast of America and it's obviously more progressive and cosmopolitan, but stuff has happened in NYC that has really shocked me in terms of violence against certain groups—immigrants, religious groups or queer groups. That change has seeped in. Don't get me wrong—I still love NYC and living here and it's the only place I want to live in America, but it's not impermeable to those forces.
Tim: Agreed. So it doesn't sound like you can really describe a typical day.
Alan: It's difficult to do. That's why I crave routine, why I love theater—because you know what time you're going to work and when you're going to finish. So, I was here in Scotland over a week ago, then I went to New York on Monday for a fitting and flew straight on to L.A. the next day for a press dinner and a photo shoot, then flew back to New York and went upstate with a million things to do. My time is so packed. Sometimes it's actually calmer when I'm shooting something, because you have an excuse for not dealing with other stuff. Today, I've already done an interview before this, then after I speak to you, I have to film something for a charity and talk with CNN about something I'm going to do with them—and this is me in my Scottish hideaway. When I'm not doing anything, I'll probably sleep until ten (a.m.).
Tim: Yeah, so talk about that, where you like to be or what you like to do when you're totally not working.