There were two of us who auditioned for Sweeney Todd at the Theatre of Gadsden. Me and Jason Wright.
Jason got it.
They offered me Judge Turpin. I said no. And then I felt five things at once and I am still sorting them out.
The audition. The production. The eighteen years between.
The envy first, because it is the least flattering thing.
I played Sweeney at Jacksonville State in 2009. Steampunk production at the Ernest Stone Performing Arts Center. I was twenty-three. Heather was in the audience. We were about to get engaged. The razor was heavy. The songs went where they were supposed to go. Jeremy Stovall conducted. Teresa Stricklin was music director. Eric Traynor directed. The Gadsden Times ran a preview: "Matt Headley stars in the title role."
The Anniston Star, Feb 19, 2009 — opening night. Matt as Sweeney with Tom Hannas, real barber at C&T in Jacksonville.
The Anniston Star put me on the front of the ESCAPES section on opening night, holding a razor, under the headline "A close shave: 'Sweeney Todd' teaches us to choose our barbers with care." Reporter Jessica Weninegar interviewed me — in character, as Sweeney — alongside Tom Hannas, a real barber at C&T Barber in Jacksonville. The photo caption read: "Matt Headley, left, plays a barber with a deadly vengeance. Tom Hannas, right, is a barber without a vengeance."
I stayed in character the whole interview. Tom asked what a meat pie was. I told him Mrs. Lovett's recipe was a secret. He said he had two police officers right there and none of them knew what a meat pie was either.
I was twenty-three years old and I thought I knew what I was doing.
That was seventeen years ago. I came back to audition this summer. My singing was good. My acting was good. I know what I did in that room. There were two people who went for the role and I was one of them and I did not get it.
I was surprised. I am still a little surprised.
That is the envy. It is not about Jason. Jason is amazing. He deserves it. I am glad for him and I am also jealous and both of those things are true at the same time.
I told him today: you have quite the legacy — half the students who auditioned were yours. He taught them at Piedmont. He put them on stages. Now they are auditioning beside him. That is a kind of success that does not show up anywhere clean. It just shows up in the room.
He wrote back: I'm so happy they could give you a little something to write about! The kids would be so humbled. The cast list is about to drop, he said. Two of his students — Jojo, cast as Anthony Hope, and Gracie, cast as Joanna — are going to be in the show with him. I'm so proud of them.
That is the thing about Jason Wright. He gets the lead and his first thought is about the kids.
I am glad he got it. I am also jealous. I am also relieved. I am also ashamed. All of those things are true at the same time.
The shame second.
They offered me Judge Turpin and I said no. Turpin is the villain — the reason for everything that follows, every razor, every throat, every song that turns dark. I said no and I am ashamed of that in the way you are ashamed when you know you could have been bigger and you were not.
The reason, plainly.
I said no because it was best for my family.
That is the whole thing. The Theatre of Gadsden is not around the corner. Rehearsals eat evenings for months. I have a wife and four kids and a season of life where I need to be present, and I knew — not abstractly but in my body — that once I was in it I would not be able to help myself. I would disappear into the role. That is not a metaphor. That is what I do with things I love. I said no because I love my family more than I love the stage.
I am relieved. I am also ashamed of the relief. Both true.
I said no because it was best for my family. That is the whole thing.
The mental health piece.
I know what it costs to play a man coming apart. I have stood on the edge of the kind of losing Sweeney sings about — the grief that sharpens itself into something, the rage that needs a direction. I am forty-two. I have a bipolar diagnosis. I know what those songs actually mean. I would not have to act them.
I said no partly because I trust myself enough now to know when a door is not mine to walk through in this season.
The fifth thing is Jason.
Jason Wright is my best friend. Brother from another mother is the phrase and it is accurate. We have been in each other's lives long enough that I cannot easily explain the shape of it. We met at Jacksonville State in the Men's Chorale the day Dr. Corbin made him move over to make room for me. He laughed. No complaint, no staked-out territory. He just made room.
He just made room. That was twenty years ago. It is still the truest thing about him.
He also taught me the dance I had to learn for the JSU Wesley Foundation talent show. I ended up getting a full scholarship. He is responsible for some portion of my college education and he will absolutely never let me forget it.
He tells the story himself, with delight. "Terrible dancer," he says. Then he mentions my beautiful blonde hair. Then he says I was competition. I was a twenty-two-year-old with cheekbones and no business on a dance floor, and somehow he turned that into something usable, and then he tells the story at my expense for the rest of our lives. That is also the whole Jason Wright story.
He is also the man who called me every week through both of my bipolar seasons. The first depression, before I had the diagnosis or the language for it. The manic episode in 2025 when I resigned on Ash Wednesday and spent months in a clarity that turned out to be psychosis. I was not responding to anyone. I was hiding. He called anyway. He prayed for me every day. He met with me when I was in no condition to be met with. He never gave up.
He was my lifeline to the outside world. He is truly my brother.
He is amazing. He has always been amazing. He is going to be a remarkable Sweeney.
I told him I declined the Turpin role and why. He wrote back: I'm sad I won't get to do this production with you, but we will do one sometime soon and I know it is going to be fantastic.
When I sent him this essay he wrote: Hey friend, it's OK — I'm flattered that you would write something up about me. I'll read through it and check for anything to make sure you're good before you send it. :-) I love it. And then, a minute later: Also, please send me your poetry when you can. I would be so honored to publish it.
That is Jason. He reads a piece about himself and his first thought is: I want to give you something back.
Tuesday morning he is coming to morning prayer at Jacksonville First United Methodist Church at six-thirty. He is coming to my church. After that we are having coffee and we are going to talk about his website, which needs work and which I can help with.
That is the friendship. He got the role I know. He is coming to morning prayer on a Tuesday. We are talking about websites after. It is going to be fine because it is always fine with him.
There is a code among theater directors. The highest grade is DD — Director's Dream. Eric Traynor gave me that grade after the 2009 production. He wrote this, and I have kept it:
"There is a code amongst directors of theatre. The highest grade is DD. Director's Dream. That is Matt. Intelligent, hard working, always early to rehearsal, humble, early line memorization, and he took my notes earnestly and applied them the very next rehearsal. His acting and singing talent is extraordinary. He absolutely could have made a Broadway career for himself, had he chosen that path. But what set him apart even more was that, even though he was THE TITLE ROLE, he was kind and helpful to every single person that worked on that production. There is NO hyperbole here. Just the truth."
I am not putting that here to brag. I am putting it here because it matters that I know what I can do and I still said no. That is a different kind of decision than not knowing.
I am glad he got it. I am also jealous. I am also relieved. I am also ashamed. I am also forty-two and I know more about those songs than I did at twenty-three and I said no anyway.
That is the story. Right now, it is enough.
Matt Headley is the Founding Pastor of Ecclesia and the editor of Southern Legends.
Tuesday morning prayer at Jacksonville First UMC, 6:30am. Jason will be there this week. Come if you want. Coffee after.
See also: Move Over — how Jason and I met, the day Dr. Corbin told him to make room.
Southern Legends publishes essays and profiles from Northeast Alabama. Write for us.
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