I had the good fortune to direct my first professional production with one of my Dad's masterpieces, The Man Who Came To Dinner. What it taught me was how beautifully the Kaufman and Hart plays are constructed: with economy, and wit, and warmth, and a sensibility, and heart/Hart that appeals to every stripe of theatregoers. It was a gift that can't be underestimated.

I had the good fortune to direct my first professional production with one of my Dad's masterpieces, The Man Who Came To Dinner. What it taught me was how beautifully the Kaufman and Hart plays are constructed: with economy, and wit, and warmth, and a sensibility, and heart/Hart that appeals to every stripe of theatregoers. It was a gift that can't be underestimated.

As a younger person I think I thought of myself as a Tony [from The Best Man], struggling with the legacy of my famous parents.

As far as I know, no one in the Kaufman or Hart clan was the basis for anyone in the play. I think we all wish we had a Grandpa, Penny, and Mr. De Pinna in our families.

Even though the play [ The Best Man] was written a long time ago, the characters seem modern and their struggles to make ends meet and to "have a little fun along the way" have a very contemporary feel. The similarity between the The Great Depression and The Great Recession - as well as the gulf between the super-rich and the ordinary Joe - still rings a bell. One of the things this production accentuates is how beautifully Grandpa and his family accept all kinds of people - rich or poor, black or white - and the best thing that can happen to you is to be part of a loving family.

As a young man with celebrity parents I yearned to ignore my heritage (or, more precisely, have other people ignore my famous parents) and "make it" in my chosen career entirely on my own merit (which of course never happens, you're always found out).

All the statistics in the world can't measure the warmth of a smile.