It's a cool, clear fall day in Manhattan as Stephen
Schnetzer walks across town to a favorite, slightly upscale deli for
lunch. He's got two shoulderbags of materials (an ANOTHER WORLD script
peeking out of one), but hardly seems weighed down, knowing exactly where
he's heading. "Hey," he says to his companion, glancing up briefly into
the azure sky, then into the road, checking for traffic. "Let's walk on
the sunny side of the street."
Yes, let's. If anybody's going to be able to realize when
he's been in shadow too for too long -- and how to remedy that situation,
it's Schnetzer. Having played Cass Winthrop for more than 16 years (which
makes him AW's male veteran), Schnetzer has seen good days (excellent
romantic pairings, compelling storylines, an evil doppelganger) and lousy
ones (having his contract trimmed, losing one of those romantic partners
when she was beaten to death, then finding himself relegated to the
back-burner for nearly four years), which may have taught him a little Zen
philosophy: Go with the flow.
This year has been Cass's year, however, and once
Schnetzer's settled in at the deli, bags stowed under the table, he
explains that to some extent, you can thank Richard Culliton -- associate
head writer at AW -- for the rebirth of Cass. "I heard at one point that
[Culliton] was in a story meeting going over ideas and said, 'Oh, this is
great, Steve Schnetzer could do these comedy scenes.' They said, 'Is he
funny?' And he mentioned, 'Um, yeah, he has a Soap Opera Digest
Award [from 1989] for comic performance. That's what we used to have him
do when I wrote here before.' Richard really got me back on track."
That meant pairing Cass with a new love interest -- his
first since the brutal murder of wife Frankie -- but taking it very, very
slowly. The reason that Cass and Lila (Lisa Peluso) work so well together,
says Schnetzer, is that "They both enjoy the chase. They're highly
entertained by friction, static and taunting -- it's a form of foreplay
for them. He sees behind all of her machinations and manipulations and
Machiavellian behavior like no one else can."
With work pretty much guaranteed, Schnetzer has been able to
devote his energies elsewhere, as several milestones approach and are
surpassed in his life. He turned 50 in June, a cause for self-examination
and reorienting of priorities. Out on the street, he referred to wanting
to figure out what he wants to do; inside the restaurant, he tries to
clarify. "I'm finding things are turning more personal, a little more
introspective, more inward," he explains. "I think less about my career
and that aspect of my life, and more about my spirit and my soul. I want
to acknowledge who I am and open up to possibilities."
Having a 12-year-old son, Max, who's about to hit the
teenage years (his other son, Ben, is 8) has also found Schnetzer
reflecting on how he'll handle this particular hurdle. "Every age he's
gone through has been wonderful," Schnetzer shares. "I just hope I can
find the magic in this next stage. Young people have to separate from
their parents, and one way nature has provided is for them to be really
obnoxious sometimes in their teenage years."
And there's the whole subject of the birds and the bees that
sons and fathers ought to share.... "We've been there," smiles Schnetzer.
"You need to be straight, direct approach. Some of the most important
things in life are never discussed, like your sexual identity, like
marriage -- why aren't we trained for that? -- and raising children. You
have to get a driver's license to drive...."
To hear Schnetzer tell it, there's nothing remotely fatal
about 50 -- the highs and lows come just as hard and fast as they did 20
years ago. But he finds his renewal in such disparate places as yoga
(Schnetzer attends classes several times a week) and his family. "I had a
conversation with Ben yesterday," the actor recalls, "and he asked, 'Who
was Buddha?' Now that was an interesting conversation. They're like
little sponges. All the senses are wide open."
Which sounds like a place that Schnetzer would like to find
himself back in: open and attentive, all receptors turned on. "I've always
filled my life up with busy-ness," he says. "And I'm the kind of person
who can be very self-involved or selfish, but at other times can identify
so much with people around me that I don't know how I really feel
in a given circumstance." He pauses. "I hope that I'm on the threshold of
a personal revolution. I feel I may be, but I don't know what form it will
take. Still, it's an interesting place to be."
