Sam Tutty Doesn’t Buy Into Pre-Theater Superstitions

Like Dougal Todd, the character he plays in Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York), Sam Tutty is a Brit who’s new to the city. But that’s basically where the similarities end.

In the new musical, which opened on Broadway in November following a West End run, Dougal lands in the city to attend the wedding of his father, whom he’s never met. The bride’s sister, Robin Rainey (Christiani Pitts), meets Dougal at the airport before running other bridal errands, including picking up the cake. He tags along, eager to explore all the tourist traps in a new place he views with a wide-eyed, childlike sense of excitement and wonder.

Tutty, however, hasn’t had the same luxury of downtime for sightseeing. “I landed Oct. 5, and we started work Oct. 6, so it was like jump straight in,” says the 27-year-old West Sussex native of making his Broadway debut. “And when it’s your day off, it’s like, ‘OK, I just need to shop and clean and relax.’”

Nearly six months in, the actor is slowly familiarizing himself with New York neighborhood by neighborhood, including the West Village, which he says he recently explored with his girlfriend. He’s also become acquainted with a few theater-crowd-favored Midtown spots, like the Civilian Hotel and Hurley’s. “We like to go just to treat ourselves and actually chat about something that isn’t work or is about work,” he says.

Two Strangers is one of the few musicals to open this season that isn’t based on existing material. For Tutty, the show’s appeal lies in how normal Dougal and Robin are. “There’s nothing profoundly world-changing about them,” says the actor, who won the Best Actor Olivier Award for the role. “That influences your choices onstage. You can really just be still and scratch your head and get something out your eye or something like that, and it’s completely within the remit of the spectrum of your character. I think that’s really fun.”

On not getting fixated by rituals:

There are things that I do in a specific order, vocally, so I know how I’m going to sound. It’s not even to know if I’m ready for a show — it’s like, “OK, let’s check in, and how will those notes feel in 15 minutes?” Other than that, I really like to just stay away from ritualistic things. I think they can control your life and mental health, and can put more pressure on yourself than you already feel with this job.

There are a lot of things that I used to do — “If I don’t do this, I’m going to have a bad show.” And it could be something as stupid as moving the mic belt from left to right, literally like OCD level. Just know there is a professional trust that you can do the show, and you don’t have to turn off the lights 15 times before leaving the dressing room.

On the relaxing magic of YouTube videos:

The main thing before a show is just relaxing and being calm and getting there with enough time to be still — not necessarily in that sort of drama stillness — but just like watching YouTube videos or just having time to relax rather than rushing in. There’s this YouTuber from Outdoor Boys called Luke. He doesn’t do videos anymore, which is heartbreaking, but it’s camping videos and outdoor videos. Other than that, I’ll watch some anime stuff or anything else that comes up, like gaming videos.

On the food that fuels him:

There’s a nice middle ground of not feeling full but not feeling undernourished. For a two-show day, I’ll have breakfast — some eggs and fruit. And when I’m walking to the theater, I’ll get a small sandwich. And I’ll have some grapes between acts. When the show is done, and it’s like 10:30, quarter to 11 at night, I just inhale everything and everything. I do meal prep, so it’s chicken and rice and any veg I can squeeze in. I’m on a meal plan with this thing called Home Chef, which is great because I don’t really know much about cooking, and they give you the ingredients and recipes for you. I do all of that during the day and then I’ll microwave it at night.

On trusting yourself onstage:

As soon as you’re in front of 1,000 people, you can fall into really easy traps where you don’t trust yourself anymore or you feel like your body’s going to fail you out of nowhere, and it will only be that worry that fuels that possibility. I do that every night, basically — just think, “Oh, my gosh, don’t crack. Please don’t crack.” And you don’t. You only do when you convince yourself that you’re going to.

It’s a paradox, trying to be calm in front of 1,000 people — that’s literally not a thing, and it shouldn’t be a thing because if you’re relaxed and calm and your adrenaline is low, then I don’t think you’re taking it as seriously as you should or maybe you’re taking it for granted. If you’re aware chemically, mentally, then I think it means you care about your job, but also you need to make sure that it isn’t the ingredient that compromises your show. It’s a lot of balancing, a lot of juggling, and a lot of just forgiveness and trust in oneself. I’m making it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world, but it’s very fun. That danger is really fun for me, and it’s what makes me feel alive.