Theo Devaney spoke about directing the Edward Albee play “At Home at the Zoo,” presented by Ruth Stage, which is being performed at the Jersey Shore Arts Center in Ocean Grove, New Jersey.
The play stars Matt de Rogatis, Emmy winner Christian Jules LeBlanc, and Nancy Lemenager.
What inspired you to direct “At Home at the Zoo”?
I was originally invited by Matt to direct The Zoo Story last summer. I’ve long admired his work and the way he approaches classic material—taking well-known plays and re-imagining them with a contemporary eye. We’d known each other for a while, and it quickly became clear we share a similar theatrical sensibility.
As a British actor and director, I’ve spent much of my early career working on international and European classics, often in modern reinterpretations.
So although I wasn’t especially familiar with Albee or The Zoo Story at the outset, the invitation made complete sense creatively.
The collaboration was hugely rewarding. The audience response was incredibly strong, and I loved working with Matt and Christian—both of whom brought real bravery and depth to the material. When the opportunity came to expand the project into a full double bill, it felt like an easy yes.
I got to return to work I cared about, collaborate again with artists I respect, and welcome Nancy Le Menager into the company, who brings something truly special to the piece.
At the heart of it, it was simply the chance to keep doing meaningful, rigorous theatre with people I admire.
What drew you to the work of Edward Albee?
What I love about Edward Albee is his ability to ground his work in real psychological truth while pushing his characters to absurd extremes. The situations can become heightened, even ridiculous, but they’re always rooted in something recognisably human.
That’s what makes Theatre of the Absurd so compelling. It’s not just about strange behaviour—it’s about the absurdity of being human itself. Our interactions, our rituals, our need to be understood can tip into the almost clownish, yet they feel true because they come from real emotional contradictions.
At the heart of this double bill is that central tension: our desire for structure, safety, and meaning versus an equally powerful need for freedom, individuality, and self-definition. We crave order, yet feel suffocated by it.
Albee captures that paradox beautifully, and that contradiction is what gives the play its humour, danger, and emotional bite.
What was it like working with Nancy, Christian and Matt?
I worked with Christian and Matt on The Zoo Story the first time around, and we’re remounting that production now. Christian is a wonderfully sensitive and emotionally available actor—very grounded, truthful, and vulnerable.
His long career in television gives him enormous composure and calm, and what really struck me on stage was how authentic and charismatic he is. With someone who lives primarily on camera, my role is often about offering an outside eye for the stage—but what he brings theatrically is every bit as compelling as a seasoned stage actor.
Matt is a very different kind of performer. He’s raw, physical, and intensely visceral. Where Christian has a natural fragility, Matt brings danger and volatility—there’s a bristling physical energy to him that feels genuinely threatening.
Together, they create something electric, far greater than the sum of their parts.
I was thrilled to bring Nancy Lemenager into the company. She has this wonderful combination of strength, sensitivity, intelligence, and femininity, and her chemistry with Christian has been clear even though much of our rehearsal process has been remote—Christian in LA, Nancy in New York.
Despite working largely over Zoom, they’ve built something very real. We now have several days in person to deepen that work, and I’m incredibly excited to see how audiences respond.
What did this play teach you about yourself?
4) My favourite line in the play is, “Sometimes you have to go a long way to travel a short distance correctly.” I don’t know if there’s anything truer about life. For me, it speaks directly to self-discovery and the search for meaning.
Very rarely do we know exactly what will fulfil us and simply go straight there. Whether you’re building a career, a business, a role, or a relationship, it’s often about taking detours—going down cul-de-sacs, covering ground for its own sake, doubling back on yourself. Sometimes you even have to move continents to realise you need to return.
What’s remarkable is that Albee wrote that line as a very young man, in his first play. That level of insight is extraordinary. It’s a line I’ve been quietly meditating on for the past six months, and it continues to resonate more deeply the longer I sit with it.
How does it feel to be a filmmaker in the digital age? (Now with streaming, technology and social media being so prevalent)
5I don’t really consider myself primarily a filmmaker. I’ve made two films, and while the process is incredibly liberating, it’s also intimidating. It’s never been easier to make work, but that also means there’s so much of it that films can start to feel disposable. The real challenge now isn’t making something—it’s getting people to sit down and give it their attention.
I do believe, though, that work with real meaning and quality will always rise to the surface. Our responsibility as artists is to support strong filmmaking and help guide audiences toward it. Attention is more fragmented than ever, but there will always be an audience for high-quality art, just as there will always be room for more accessible work.
There’s space for both Ingmar Bergman and Michael Bay —and that’s absolutely fine. If you’re truly called to make something, you’ll do the work regardless of how successful it is or how many people see it. So my feeling is simple: make what you want to make.
What do your plans for the future include?
I’m an actor and coach, as well as a theatre director and filmmaker. Right now, I’m shooting a recurring role on “The Diplomat,” which I’ll be returning to later this year.
Alongside that, I continue to work closely with actors in my coaching studio in New Jersey, developing new events and performance opportunities with them.
I’m also keen to produce more theatre that I can direct in collaboration with members of the studio, which feels like an exciting next step creatively. In addition, I’m in ongoing conversations with Matt and Ruth Stage about future projects that we hope to announce soon.
The future is unwritten, but there are several projects in the pipeline that I’m excited about.
What is your advice for young and aspiring filmmakers?
My advice to young filmmakers is simple: make what you want to make, and give yourself authority early on. Work with people you trust, but don’t step back from making strong creative decisions. The more responsibility you take, the more you learn.
I think one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made is listening to other people too much and not trusting my own instincts enough.
A piece of work becomes most distinctly yours when you challenge yourself to make as many of the decisions as possible—how it’s edited, how it sounds, how it feels. That’s where a film’s identity comes from.
Collaboration matters, of course, but managing by committee can drain the life out of a project. Experience doesn’t automatically mean someone else knows how to make your film.
You have to take a position, own your choices, and accept that you’ll make mistakes. If you’re open to learning from them, that’s how you grow.
So back yourself. Be brave. Don’t give away your creative agency just to play it safe.
What does the word success mean to you? (My favorite question)
Success is a difficult question, which is probably why it’s such a good one. For me, success in a piece of art means creating something that’s greater than the sum of its parts—work that takes on a life of its own and transcends the individual artists who made it.
In terms of a career, success is about building a body of work that endures—projects that stay with people, that have a life beyond you.
I don’t measure myself against others. I measure success against my own potential: whether I’ve worked with range and depth, and whether I’ve created moments that feel distinctive and genuinely my own.
And success in life, for me, is balance. It’s being fulfilled creatively, supporting myself through meaningful work, and prioritising my family—my relationship with my wife and my child above all else.
Ultimately, success comes down to meaning, and meaning comes from investing in things beyond yourself.
What would you like to say to our readers about “At Home at the Zoo”? (What’s the one thing you want them to get out of it)
I hope that people come away from the play feeling moved and touched, but also quietly challenged—to reflect on themselves, their choices, and the way their lives are arranged.
For me, one of the play’s abiding messages is that life is a wonderful, dangerous, exhilarating, and terrifying journey—and it’s meant to be all of those things.
You have to take risks and stay open, but you also have to be kind to yourself and allow yourself some grace. Everyone is flawed; no one is perfect.
If you show yourself no grace at all, life can overwhelm you. But if you treat yourself too gently, you risk missing what makes life exciting, beautiful, and deeply poignant.
That balance is where the play lives, and that’s what I hope audiences carry with them afterward.
To learn more about Theo Devaney, follow him on Instagram.
