In his Oscar-nominated performance in “CODA,” Troy Kotsur has a spoken line of dialogue, but it’s a good one. Urging his daughter, played by Emilia Jones, to pursue her dreams of singing and going to college, he calls out, “Go!”
For Kotsur, that single word required a lot of rehearsal and courage to utter something he himself couldn’t hear on a film set. But he had done it before. Years ago, as Stanley Kowalski in a Deaf West Theater production of “A Streetcar Named Desire,” he would exclaim “Stella!” night after night.
“Sometimes I ask the audience what my voice sounds like,” Kotsur says in sign language. “One person described it as feeling comfortable and snuggled up in bed.”
Kotsur, 53, is only the second deaf actor to be nominated for an Academy Award. And like that “Go!”, he hopes his achievement resonates with inspiration.
“I hope that young people who are deaf or hard of hearing can become more confident and inspired to pursue their dreams,” says Kotsur. “I want those kids to not feel limited.”
Sian Heder’s “CODA,” an Apple TV+ premiere nominated for best picture, has elevated Kotsur to the biggest stages in Hollywood as he makes history for the deaf community. He is the first deaf actor to be individually nominated for a Screen Actors Guild (SAG) award. And the outpouring of praise has been disconcerting. When he was nominated for a BAFTA for British cinema, he celebrated so much that he fell out of his chair. Accepting the Gotham Award for Best Supporting Actor, he told the crowd that he was not at a loss for words but “absolutely unable” to express himself at the moment.
“It’s just overwhelming,” Kotsur says of the acclaim. “Is awesome. I feel like I can die happy, with a smile on my face.”
The only person who went through anything similar was “CODA” co-star Marlee Matlin. Together they play the parents of a deaf fishing family from Gloucester with a hearing daughter. Kotsur remembers seeing Matlin become the first deaf actress to win an Oscar, in 1987, for “Children of a Lesser God.”
“I felt like I could have hope as a deaf actor,” Kotsur recalled in a Zoom interview from his home in Mesa, Arizona, through an interpreter. “Of course, I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to go through show business.”
Kotsur’s long road to the Oscars began, according to him, in elementary school. With little television programming accessible to him, he loved highly visual cartoons like “Tom and Jerry” and gleefully recounted them to his deaf classmates on the bus. His father, a police chief, would later affectionately call him a “daredevil” for taking up acting. Kotsur studied acting at Gallaudet University and later toured with the National Theater for the Deaf.
With few TV and film opportunities available to actors like him, he found freedom on stage. Beginning with “Of Mice and Men” in 1994, he has acted in some 20 productions at Deaf West, the Los Angeles nonprofit theater company founded in 1991. At one show he met his wife , actress Deanne Bray. He also played Cyrano de Bergerac and starred in “American Buffalo.”
DJ Kurs, director of Deaf West, recalls being “totally drawn to Kotsur’s magnetism” on “Streetcar.” Many times since then he has seen his immersive process up close.
“Working with him on rehearsals is like being in the presence of a mad scientist,” Kurs said by email. “He’s always tweaking and fine-tuning, incorporating different elements of the character. This process doesn’t end until the curtain goes up on opening night.”
On stage, Kotsur perfected her body language. “It’s very important to me on stage to show emotion through sign language,” says Kotsur. “Sometimes sign language can be more three-dimensional and meaningful than spoken dialogue.”
Heder first saw Kotsur in a couple of Deaf West plays: “At Home in the Zoo” and “Our Town.”
“And they were very different characters,” he said. “He is so charismatic, especially on stage. He just has an amazing presence and he’s a lot of fun.”
Kotsur had long been used to seeing one-dimensional, victimized deaf characters, but “CODA” featured something he had rarely seen. The Rossis of “CODA” may have to work a little harder, but they are a family like any other, with fun conversations at the table and informal bickering. Kotsur’s Frank is also a bit lewd and a bit profane. In a scene where he is teaching his daughter about safe sex, he imitates a soldier by putting on a helmet.
Kotsur, who has always seen other actors swear, reveled in Frank’s vulgarity. He proudly recalls the film’s tug-of-war with the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) after “CODA” nearly received an R rating (requiring those under 17 to watch it accompanied by a parent or tutor). But to Kotsur, Frank is like a real deaf person: “A hard-working deaf person who just gets by.”
“I want the public to have a different perspective. I want them to get rid of their preconceived notions of what deaf people are like,” says Kotsur. “There are deaf doctors. There are deaf lawyers. There are deaf firefighters. A lot of hearing people don’t realize that.”
Perhaps Kotsur’s most poignant scene is a moment shared in the bed of his truck with his daughter, Ruby. Unable to comprehend Ruby’s talent for singing, he listens to her sing hers, tenderly feeling the vibrations of her neck. The scene has deep echoes in Kotsur’s own life; His 17-year-old daughter with Bray is also the daughter of deaf adults who is attracted to music.
“When my daughter is playing music, she doesn’t know I’m behind her. I reach out and touch the body of the acoustic guitar and I can feel the vibrations of the guitar,” says Kotsur. “I can do the same with the piano. I can rest my arms on the grand piano and feel the vibrations when she is practicing.”
“I had to go to the music store and say, ‘What’s the difference between an electric and an acoustic guitar?’ So I decided to buy both and give them to my daughter,” she adds. “I really enjoy seeing her so motivated with music as a hobby. I can’t take that passion away from him. I just have to cheer her up.”
The first time Kotsur read the script for “CODA,” he took it as a warning sign that he, like his character, is not ready for his daughter to leave home. It’s personal connections like these that made it hard to leave the role of Frank behind.
“It took me about half a year to disconnect from Frank,” says Kotsur. “My wife said to me, ‘Troy, could you shave off that beard? I can’t even kiss you.’”
For Kurs, Kotsur is nothing less than a pioneer. Thanks to him and Matlin, he says, there will be more work for deaf actors.
“Seeing the acclaim validates what we’ve known all along, that Troy is one of the greats,” says Kurs. “We’ve been waiting for the world to recognize him for some time now and we hope that Troy gets all the work and accolades that he so richly deserves, and that future deaf actors don’t have to wait as long to be recognized at this level.”
A more neatly groomed Kotsur has since appeared in the Disney+ series “The Mandalorian” as a Tusken Raider, for which he developed his own sign language. Other roles await, as does a long-awaited speaking tour for children and aspiring deaf actors. But for now, he absorbs everything as much as he can.
“I’m trying to enjoy every day and every moment,” he says. “Not rush. I’m not obsessed with winning. These days will pass. I will never live them again.”
To sum up what it all means, Kotsur clutches his chin and compares himself to a single hair in a bushy beard of talented deaf actors who haven’t had the opportunity he did.
“I feel very fortunate to have been able to take this step forward. I think it’s time for Hollywood to be more open, more creative and more diverse,” says Kotsur. “Everyone has their story to tell.”
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