Despite the setbacks and adjustments imposed by the pandemic, it was almost business as usual at Thursday night’s Hasty Pudding Man of the Year roast honoring Jason Bateman. True, the in-person event meant we’d need our vaccine cards at the ready, as we secured our masks in place just to enter Harvard’s Farkas Hall. But after two years of a pandemic, this was no surprise.
Yet the event really began at home when there was much discussion about what to wear. It was Harvard Square after all, and the narrow brick sidewalks are hard to maneuver on a dry day, much less a post-blizzard one. So dress shoes were out, Doc Martens were in. We belied the conventional bright orange rain ponchos.
Before we even made it to the door, friend and sighted guide, Stacey Sacks, and I had already started our evening off on a note of success. Amid the drizzle of rain, growing puddles, and slushy snowbanks, we foraged for the elusive Cambridge parking spot. We got it, right in front.
Finally out of the rain and inside Farkas Hall, I was ready to meet the man behind “Ozark,” the Netflix series that held me spellbound (if not slightly on edge) for its four-season run. (Part 2 of the 4th season is set to drop in the next few months.) With Farkas Hall’s elegant entrance and sweeping staircase, I could tell it was spacious by the echo of the voices around me. After a peek inside the still-dark theater, Stacey and I headed for the third-floor press room. With time to spare, we reviewed the history of Hasty.
My sighted guide, Stacey Sacks, and I donning our press passes with Jason Bateman’s photo. Photo by Stacey Sacks
“In 1795, twenty-one Harvard students crowded into a dorm room to celebrate the establishment of a new on-campus society. Members pledged to maintain the club’s secrecy and ‘to cultivate the social affections and cherish the feelings of friendship and patriotism.’ Most importantly, they mandated that ‘the members in alphabetical order shall provide a pot of hasty pudding for every meeting.’ With this ritual, the Hasty Pudding Club found its namesake, and the theatrical organization of today found its simpler roots.”
It wasn’t until 1844 that the first Hasty Pudding Show went onstage, “starting a tradition that has continued for 173 productions, interrupted for only five years by the two World Wars and the COVID-19 pandemic,” according to the Hasty Pudding release.
We knew the roast had begun when the voice of a Boston Brahmin (or so it seemed) projected from the speaker with the clarity equal to that of a “Masterpiece Theatre” host. “Ladies and gentlemen …” A large screen in the pressroom ensured that everyone would get to see Jason don the traditional bra and be drawn into vignettes that played off his many TV and film roles. They did not disappoint — right down to him cleaning dollars bills with a toothbrush as he “laundered” money. (Something his character Marty Byrd does for the drug cartel in “Ozark.”)
Hasty Pudding Man of the Year Jason Bateman holds his pudding pot, which he said he’d place above his Emmy at home. Jon Chase/Harvard Staff Photographer
Once Jason had his Pudding Pot he headed upstairs to meet the rest of us. I was alerted as he walked past me, within reach. The cameras clicked like a paparazzi posse. Jason was accompanied by fellow actors Sean Hayes (“Will and Grace”) and Will Arnett (“Arrested Development, which co-starred Jason). The three men created a podcast back in July 2020, “SmartLess.” Jason sat in the front of the room. We were told ahead of time that reporters were allotted one question of Hasty’s 55th Man of the Year. Everyone made them count, inquiring about his early education (he never went to college) to his start in the business (his first role was at age 10 in “Little House on the Prairie”). But much like getting a basketball tossed into a basket with my eyes closed, I knew I was just one among many in the media-filled room. I raised my hand in anticipation of being chosen to ask my question, of making the connection; after all, how many times does Jason Bateman visit Cambridge?
Jason’s responses were kind and sincere, and thoughtful. I recognized his voice, deep and soothing, marked by the occasional pause, “uummm…” as if pondering the question long enough to give the best response. I was impressed.
“He’s so handsome. Great hair. He’s gorgeous,” Stacey whispered.
“I don’t care, I wanted to ask him a question!” I insisted.
Stacey had tapped on my arm, telling me to raise my hand for a final try. The press conference was coming to an end. I didn’t get to ask my question, but I still wanted to do a short interview with him. I turned to Stacey, “Never say never. After all, we did find the perfect parking space in Harvard Square!”
