As the Genie in Disney’s Broadway production of Aladdin, Sherri Shepherd’s character has gotten a lot of sleep after 10,000 years trapped in her lamp. In real life, the actor is trying to play catch-up. “Thank you for your patience — I just woke up,” she admits to Bustle, laughing, after joining our Zoom interview just a few minutes late. “I did not realize literally how much sleep you need after doing a Broadway show.”
It also takes a lot of energy to make history. In 2014, Shepherd made her Broadway debut by becoming the first Black woman to play the wicked stepmother in Rodgers + Hammerstein’s Cinderella. Now, more than a decade later, she’s the first woman to play the Genie in the long-running musical Aladdin, based on the 1992 film, at the New Amsterdam Theatre. It’s an honor she didn’t realize when she got the offer.
“When things scare me and an opportunity presents itself, I run, but not the opposite way. I run towards the fear,” she says. “And then I find out, ‘Oh, wait a minute, this is the first woman to play the Genie?’ That’s when I go, ‘What the hell did you say yes to? It’s too much pressure.’”
She seems to be doing just fine. Shepherd makes the Genie entirely her own, making timely wise-cracks when she can and infusing her numbers like “Friend Like Me” with pop culture references, from The Real Housewives of Agrabah (make this a reality, Disney) to her recent Emmy win for her eponymous talk show, which ended in May.
“When I say things like, ‘Oh, I got my very own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,’ the audience just goes crazy. Now I put in there, ‘my syndicated Emmy Award-winning talk show,’” she says.
However, some ideas didn’t make the final cut, specifically relating to a medley of classic Disney songs in the first act. “The director came in my dressing room and I’m singing [Cher accent], ‘Tale as old as time.’ He said, ‘Who are you?’ I proudly said, ‘I am Cher.” And he proudly said, ‘Yeah. No,’” she says. “At the end, I think I sang [Dolly Parton accent], ‘I want adventures in the gray.’ He said, ‘And who is that?’ I said, ‘That is Dolly Parton.’ And he said, ‘No, can you just go back to being the lounge singer?’ I just laughed so much because I don’t take things personally.”
While Shepherd may not be able to give her best celebrity impressions, her turn in Aladdin is already having the kind of impact on fans that performers dream of.
“A little girl came last night — she was three years old and dressed as the Genie,” she says. “She had her own little lamp, her dad said they asked her, ‘Is this the Genie from the movie?’ And she said, ‘No, the Genie from Broadway.’ I took her on a tour and gave her a real Aladdin lamp. It brought tears to my eyes. Everybody doesn’t want to be a princess — they want to be a genie. I love that now they’re dreaming like that.”
On her Broadway gurus:
The first person I called was Kristin Chenoweth. I left a message on Michelle Williams’ voicemail. I called Wayne Brady. Steven Boyer was with me in a show called Trial & Error, and I called him and said, “What am I supposed to start doing?” Kristin sent me a video that was about 19 minutes long — no, it was longer than that — saying, “These are all of the things that you need to do, I’m sending you this.” Thankfully, I have a lot of friends on Broadway who told me what I was supposed to do — probably three-quarters of them I never did, but I do now, like sleep.
On her pre-show routine:
I do my vocal warmups, because Kristin said that’s the most important thing, and I stretch, then I listen to some soft music. Some people have to listen to rap, rock, and heavy stuff — not me. I have to center myself. I look at my son Jeffery’s picture, because he calms me down. When I try to call him, he’s like, “Bruh, what are you calling me for? Is this going to go on every day?” And I just stare at myself in the mirror. I will run through the show and picture it successful.
On mastering the choreography:
This is a team that really cares. They accommodated me with the dancing. I wish I could tap, but I get to say [to Aladdin], “Hey, do you know how to tap? Well, you do now. Don’t embarrass me.” I get to sashay off that stage and come on back in. They carry me through, and it’s an organized cacophony behind the scenes.
On her haunted Broadway theater:
I found out there’s a ghost, Ollie, in New Amsterdam. She used to be a Ziegfeld dancer, and was married to one of the silent screen film stars. Her picture is on the wall when you come in the theater. When I was rehearsing, part of the ceiling just fell on the floor, and I screamed. Everybody went, “Oh, that’s just Ollie. She’s upset about something.” I said, “Do I need to do an exorcism?” And they said, “No, she’s very friendly. You just have to say good morning to her.” So I came in that theater and said, “Look here, girl. How are we going to do this?”
On her stage-door requests:
There’s a lot of fans who bring me things and hand it to me, and that’s kind of scary — somebody just throws something in your face. But I’ve had all kinds of gifts. Somebody printed out maybe 20 or 30 pictures of different things that I’ve been in — 30 Rock and The Sex Lives of College Girls — and wanted me to sign them. I’m like, “Can I keep these for myself?” A guy wanted me to take a picture and kiss him. I was like, “I’m going to decline because I don’t need no wife showing up.”
On the Aladdin she wants to see:
If they had a younger Genie, there would be more chemistry with Aladdin. It’d be like, “Jasmine who? I’m here.” In my season, it’s more maternal, big sister. But if a younger female Genie came in, she’d be like, “Honey, I’ll give you three wishes and more. Who are you going to choose?” That would be a lot of fun. I think now that I’ve done it, and they’ve seen we can incorporate different things to fit a Genie that’s not run-of-the-mill, the possibilities are endless.
