When Ben Walker struts onstage to the first pounding beats of emo-musical “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson,” he stirs up an already frenzied audience.
“You’re about to get played with hard and put away broken,” vows the strapping actor.
Walker, rocking out as the seventh president of the United States, keeps his promise — and then some. He sings, bleeds and pelvic thrusts his way through populism to delicious comic effect. The Nullification Crisis has never been this funny. Or this sexy.
“The show is rated R, but so is history,” notes Walker, resting briefly in the boughs of the Public Theater before a raucous preview performance. The show opens Tuesday and is slated to run through April 25.
Six-foot-three inches of ruffian good looks and Georgia charm, the 27-year-old Juilliard grad is on the brink of big stardom. He’s already passed the titillation tipping point.
“My friend came to see the show and audibly said, ‘He’s sexy,’ when Ben first came onstage,” confides castmate Jeff Hiller. “She told me she couldn’t control it, it just came out of her.”
Between the skintight jeans he sports for the show (“I have to use a horseshoe to get them on”) and the way “goodness gracious” drips off his tongue in real life, Walker is indeed hard to resist. (An 80-year-old audience member was spotted swooning for him after a recent performance.)
Unfortunately, his fans must share him with fiancée Mamie Gummer, a fellow thespian who — ohbytheway — happens to be Meryl Streep’s daughter.
Walker and Gummer appeared together in the Broadway revival of “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” in 2008 and began dating shortly thereafter. They’re planning a fall wedding.
“We were lucky to find each other at good times in our lives,” he says, striking a note of aw-shucks sincerity rarely heard in New York City.
So exactly how terrifying is it to have Meryl “Movie Goddess” Streep watching you from the orchestra seats?
“The only thing more intimidating than an international film star in the audience is a mother-in-law,” Walker observes wryly.
“That’s a joke,” he adds quickly, insisting Streep and her husband, Don Gummer (his future father-in-law), are incredibly supportive.
And Walker’s no fly-by-night success. He’s been workshopping “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson” with director Alex Timbers for three years, first at the Williamstown Theatre Festival, then in Los Angeles and most recently in a sold-out run at the Public last year. This version adds more actors and new staging.
To prep for the role, Walker studied Andrew Jackson biographies and recalled childhood trips to The Hermitage, Jackson’s Tennessee home.
“My father was an American history buff,” he says, “so I’ve always been fascinated with it.”
And with his unruly shock of hair, Walker looks like he just walked off a $20 bill.
“I did go to Juilliard, where they teach your hair to be your best acting asset,” he jokes. “I imagine Jackson to be a charismatic man, and I strive to be charismatic, but it’s all acting at this point.”
Not so, insists director Timbers.
“Finding the lead actor for an oddball political play with rock songs and irreverent humor was a challenge,” he says. “But Ben is the perfect mix — an incredible classically trained actor with strong musical theater chops and experience as a stand-up comedian.”
Walker frequently performs comedy and sings dirty ditties with pals at a bar near the theater, skills that serve him well in the show.
“He not only nails the lines, he gives them meaning, depth and humor,” bemoans castmate Hiller. “It’s f – – – ing annoying to see.”
In addition to his Broadway work in “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” and “Inherit the Wind,” Walker has snagged roles in the films “Kinsey” and “Flags of Our Fathers.” He’d love to do more of all of the above. Or perhaps a hip-hop show about Teddy Roosevelt.
“Whatever gets me health insurance,” he says, grinning.
In his downtime, Walker wanders the city, sampling food that’s “cheap and filling” and exploring new neighborhoods. He’s moving from the Upper West Side to Park Slope, but hasn’t forgotten his Southern roots.
“I enjoy fishing and the great outdoors and things that remind me of Georgia,” he says.
The intense focus required for the elaborate fight choreography in “Bloody Bloody” leaves him too tuckered for anything but bed after the show. (“The man is an expert napper,” confirms Hiller.)
What, no time to play sex symbol to his adoring fans? “God, you’re breaking my heart,” Walker politely demures. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
He’d much rather talk history than heartbreak.
“It’s important to remember what has come before us as we make decisions about America today,” he says. “And there’s no better way than through a rock musical — it’s a lot more palatable than your history book.”
So are those jeans, Ben Walker. So are those jeans.