STAGE : Culture Cowboy : Country-and-western singer Gary Morris loses his twang when he hits the stage in 'Les Miz'

By JANICE ARKATOV

Jan. 20, 1991 12 AM PT

<i> Janice Arkatov is a free-lance writer. </i>

If Gary Morris had listened to conventional wisdom, he’d probably still be singing at Billy Bob’s Saloon in Ft. Worth. Instead, he’s opening tonight at the Pantages Theatre, reprising his role as Jean Valjean in the national touring production of the Tony-winning musical “Les Miserables,” the Alain Boublil/Claude-Michel Schonberg blockbuster based on the Victor Hugo novel.

“I’ve been an outsider in everything I’ve done,” Morris said in a casual drawl, settling back on his dressing room couch. “Even in the world of country music, I’m not a country singer; I don’t sound like the other guys who make country records. When I went to New York in ‘La Boheme,’ I was the only guy in the cast not from Juilliard. When I did ‘The Colbys,’ I was the only guy who didn’t make his living off of acting. My manager had to talk me into auditioning for ‘La Boheme’--I’d never auditioned for anything before.”

The 42-year-old Texan seems to take it all in stride. Never mind the 1984 commotion--and critics’ skepticism--when it was announced that this untrained, untried country star would be singing Puccini opposite Linda Ronstadt at the New York Public Theatre.

“I’d never seen a Broadway show, never seen an opera,” he says. “I’ve now seen (one of each)--and I was in both of ‘em. Someone interviewed me when I was doing ‘La Boheme’ and said, ‘Aren’t you worried about doing five shows I week?’ I said, ‘Should I be?’ There’s not an opera singer in the world who’d do that. But I didn’t know. I thought, ‘Hey, this is no worse than touring. Let’s go do it.’ ”

The “Boheme” reviews were generally positive and 3 1/2 years later, Morris was itching to get back on stage again. This time the show was “Les Miserables.” Again, the critics took aim. Again, Morris refused to be cowed by the pressure.

‘I went in after Colm Wilkinson on Broadway,” he said with a shrug. “Colm was ‘The Voice of God’--so Frank Rich said.”

The singer recalls the New York Times review in which Rich wrote that Morris performed the score “at least as beautifully as his predecessor.”

“So I guess if the guy before you was God, being as good as God is OK,” Morris says.

But Rich also wrote that Morris’ “sweet demeanor masks some, though hardly all, of his inexperiences as an actor. (He) is too sloshily self-beatifying when Valjean endures his trials of injustice in Act I, too youthful (his white wig aside) when slouching toward Bethlehem after intermission.”

Still, Morris retained his enthusiasm for the show.

“ ‘Les Miserables,’ ” Morris gushed, “is just a great vehicle. The music is wonderful for me. From an actor’s standpoint, there are great stretches to be made. ‘Phantom’ is a story of darkness; ‘Les Miz,’ although it’s heavy drama on top of everything, is a story that leads into the light.” As for the period setting, he believes, “People forget about that--and the universal thing takes over. It’s not about the French Revolution. It’s a story of sheer joy and love, of good versus evil.”

In spite of his affection for the show, Morris had never intended to play it again.

“I did it for six months on Broadway,” he said, about his 1987-88 run. “It’s a real physical role. I never really had the aspiration to be a star on Broadway. I mean, it wasn’t something I grew up wanting to be. And I’d done it; I’d played the leading role in the number one show on Broadway. So what do you do then? I got offered some other leading roles after I left--to do ‘The Phantom,’ to do Blackthorne in (the musical) ‘Shogun’--but I didn’t want to. I didn’t like the music.”

Morris (who also recorded the international cast album of “Les Miz”) is so picky about his stage choices that he even turned down the offer to play Valjean in the Los Angeles company when the show came to the Shubert in 1988. “I didn’t want to do it for six more months,” he said flatly. He even turned down this run when it was originally offered--as a 12-week stint. “I said, ‘No, sorry, I won’t do it.’ Now, eight weeks--that works.”

(Result: the tour began--and will continue beyond Los Angeles--without him.)

And although he’s not played the role since 1988, Morris (who drops his accent the second he hits the stage) claims “Les Miz” has never been very far from his mind.

“During the 2 1/2 years (away), I’ve done two albums of my own music and toured,” he said, “and almost every night when I was in concert, someone would ask me to sing something from ‘Les Miz.’ And I’d take out my guitar and do ‘Bring Them Home’ or something. So it’s like it’s never left me--at least I believe that to be true. Still,” he added with a laugh, “I started looking over the music this time and realized, ‘Oh, man, there’s just so much. ‘ “

On this day, the actor-singer was nursing his right knee; two days earlier he’d undergone arthroscopy to repair torn cartilage. “I hope the audience will be patient with me being stiff-legged for a week,” he said with a wince, adjusting tropical-print Day-Glo pants around the elevated leg. The “Les Miz” company was to arrive the next day, then begin previews the day after, yet Morris dismissed any fears about the short preparation period.

“There was a (cast member) in New York who was so methodical,” he said dryly. “He went to the exact same mark every night and turned his head the exact same way. One night, we were supposed to have this quick dialogue, and I went to the other side of him. He came offstage and said, ‘Why’d you do that--just to mess me up?’ I’m like, ‘Hey, this is live theater. I respond to you, you respond to me.’ Sure, we have to respond within the dialogue, but it’s not paint-by-numbers. It’s real every night.”

Morris made his musical debut at age “3 or 4,” singing solo at his Baptist church; a few years later he was performing in an elementary school talent show with his twin sister at the piano. “Music was always important, but I never took many lessons,” the singer said, who still has difficulty reading music, although he can play by ear. “I sang in high school, but I was really a jock--a four-sport letterman. I grew up thinking I’d be an athlete or a coach.”

A mid-college detour to Colorado with friends “to drink beer and chase girls” turned long-term, and Morris ended up staying in the Boulder area, playing and writing music. Then in 1981, he headed off to Nashville to pursue a recording contract.

“I said, ‘If I don’t get signed in three months, I’m outta here.’ ” He grinned. “I didn’t know anything. I arrived broke, solo and single--and just short of three months later I signed with Warner Brothers.”

Now, with a dozen albums to his credit, the twice-divorced father of two (17-year-old Sam lives with him in Nashville, 11-year old-Matthew is one of the New Mouseketeers) is thinking of staying on in Los Angeles after his “Les Miz” run.

“Music is always going to be the focus of my life, because I was given a gift,” he said matter-of-factly. “It wasn’t something I worked for or really earned--the ability to sing. I try to respect it and use it the best I can. But, sure, one reason to be in L.A. is because it’s the film center. I don’t know that I want to be a movie star . A romantic lead? Maybe. I don’t know how romantic I’d be. I don’t have perfect teeth or the great nose. I’ve waited this long; there’s gonna be no capping of the teeth.”

Now, though, all energies are on Valjean. If there are any second thoughts about this second coming, Morris isn’t letting on.

“It can’t not be as great as I remember it,” he said firmly, “because it’s my responsibility to lead the troops. The thing about theater, especially a piece like this, is that the cast will always go as far as the leader takes them. I don’t worry about expectations. You put your butt on the line every time you do a concert; people say, ‘OK, show us.’

“It’s not intimidating to me at all.”