Big Sound's nerdy 'keister' has fun in role
Thu, Mar 29, 2001 by John McKay
 

TORONTO -- How can you love an ego-tripping, back-stabbing, lousy-in-bed preener appropriately named Keester?

Colin Cunningham does, on Big Sound, Global TV's sitcom send-up of the pop music industry.

"That's a bit on the nose, don't you think? Nick Keester, yeah. Pain in the keister!"

Cunningham is the 33-year-old Vancouver actor who portrays the obnoxious, conniving music manager as a foil to the older, mellower agent Bill Sutton, played by series star Greg Evigan.

With a press kit that describes him as "six-foot, non-threateningly good-looking, green-eyed," Cunningham is a far cry from his series alter ego. Even with the carefully trimmed goatee and earring but without the blond highlights in his hair.

"He's such a total pain in the ass, (but) other times I feel so sorry for him," Cunningham says with a grin. "He was the guy in high school and college that just never fit in, the guy who found himself pretty good at one particular thing."

What he especially likes about Keester is that he is not just typically bad and sleazy, with enough money for a fancy haircut and clothes. He's put more of a dork spin on the character.

"I said: 'What if I play him as a geek, essentially a total nerd, with this weird, aggressive nature instead of playing him straight-out bad?' "

Big Sound has wrapped its first 22-episode season and Cunningham, like the rest of the cast and crew, is waiting for word, probably next month, on whether it will be renewed. While he's now considering other projects, he says he'd love to continue playing Keester.

"This particular show has been so much fun, it really has. Every week there's a new musical icon that comes on."

As conceived by veteran humorist David Steinberg, Big Sound seeks to emulate such predecessors as The Larry Sanders Show by persuading major showbiz talents to do guest shots parodying their own images.

So far, celebrities such as Jann Arden, Melissa Etheridge, Stuart Copeland and Randy Bachman have proved they not only sing but have a sense of humour and comedy timing, too.

"Some other high-calibre stars didn't feel comfortable doing it because their egos were a little too big," Cunningham reveals. "Deals literally came down to a day or two before they were supposed to show up and they backed out."

The actor cites one well-known 1980s rocker who just couldn't play himself as a faded star. But he says the show mostly picks on the industry itself, not individuals.

"If anything, I think I'd love to see Big Sound get even darker. I mean, really dark, because the music business is one of the most whacked out. You think actors are prima donnas. Musicians, they're coming from a whole different world altogether."

Cunningham believes the series is world-class, with a sharp sense of humour that industry insiders find intelligent and yet with a broader appeal for the mom-and-pop viewers. He gives much of the credit to Steinberg, the Winnipeg-born comic who developed an impressive reputation in Hollywood directing such classic sitcoms as Friends, Mad About You and Seinfeld.

He was lured back to Canada last year to helm Big Sound, appearing in many episodes and directing half of them as well.

"It's so freeing. David will let you play and he doesn't yell 'Cut!' after each take. He will just let the camera go and say 'OK, try it again.' You forget the camera's even on and it's so relaxing. And the takes definitely get better. It creates this free and ultimately relaxed atmosphere on set that is just golden."

Cunningham says Steinberg's reputation is without question, but it's still no big deal to disagree with him.

"Nobody will ever take him to task too much, because ultimately, the guy really does know what he's doing and I trust him implicitly."

The relatively low budget, the actor insists, actually makes the show better.

"It puts you in a position where you have to get creative," he says. "And it forces you to think, because you don't have the time."

Still, he wonders how the writers do it, producing a new script every four days.

"These guys are writing like mad. I gotta hand it to them because they're up there, sometimes 16-hour days, just banging it out in this little room with no windows. My God, I couldn't do it."