John Leguizamo, celebrated for his sharp, satirical one-man shows like “Latin History for Morons” and “Mambo Mouth,” once searched for a “culturally exciting” play to enjoy with his Latin friends. About five years ago, he realized the city’s stages offered nothing for them.
“That’s just wild,” the 65-year-old actor and playwright, who grew up in Queens and has called Lower Manhattan home since 1986, recalled thinking. “We match or even surpass the white population in New York City, yet there’s no theater that speaks to our experience.”
So, he took matters into his own hands and wrote the show he longed to see. The outcome is “The Other Americans,” a compelling story about a Latino family. They’ve moved from John’s childhood neighborhood of Jackson Heights to Forest Hills, grappling with the aftermath of a hate crime. Leguizamo himself stars as Nelson Castro, a Colombian American laundromat owner, with the production running at the Public Theater in downtown Manhattan until October 26.
Leguizamo, who earned a special Tony Award in 2018 for “Latin History for Morons,” firmly believes that “theater is the place for bold choices. It’s where audiences expect you to push boundaries in storytelling, structure, and themes.”
His daily commute to the theater is a mere six-block bike ride from his Greenwich Village brownstone. He purchased the 4,500-square-foot home for $6 million in 2008 with his wife of 22 years, Justine Maurer, 57. Together, they invested $2 million and a year into meticulously restoring it to its original 19th-century splendor. Adding to their vibrant household is a Bengal cat named Leonard Bernstein.
During the preview period of his new show, Mr. Leguizamo generously shared a recent Thursday with us, offering a glimpse into his routine.
This interview has been condensed and lightly edited.
EARLY START: I aim for the 6 a.m. club, although the 5 a.m. club proved too ambitious – I was completely drained by 8 p.m.! I absolutely need eight hours of sleep to function properly.
KNEES AND TOES: My day starts with immediate stretching. Since I dance extensively in my current show, maintaining flexibility is crucial to avoid injury on stage. My routine covers everything: pigeons, quad and hamstring stretches, neck and upper torso work, and exercises for my hands, feet, and ankles.
HORMONE-FRIENDLY HYGIENE: I’m mindful about what goes into my body, using chemical-free toothpaste and non-hormone-disrupting deodorant. After my children were born, I became dedicated to removing toxins and endocrine disruptors from my life. Parenthood truly heightens your awareness of your environment; when you’re young and single, you feel invincible and less concerned.
SECRET RECIPE: My morning starts with coffee and skim milk, followed by fruit, which I prefer to eat 20 minutes before anything else. I especially enjoy papaya with a touch of kefir and raw honey. Later, I whip up a raw chocolate shake, blending banana, dates (no added sugar), raw cacao, cacao nibs, a teaspoon each of raw almonds and cashews, and a hint of cayenne.
SILENT SWEAT: My fitness journey truly began when I performed in “Romeo and Juliet.” That’s when I equipped my basement with weights, a pull-up bar, and a half rubber ball—everything I need for my workouts.
During my workouts, I crave absolute silence. My days are usually filled with noise, so this quiet time allows me to gather my thoughts—it’s almost a form of meditation. I aim for at least 30 minutes of intense exercise, including push-ups, pull-ups, curls, squats, sumos, and abs.
FUNK IT UP: I groove for 15 to 20 minutes at least twice a day, simply putting on music that moves me. Currently, I’m digging some old-school vibes: Denroy Morgan’s “I’ll Do Anything for You,” Casual Connection, “Do It in the Dark,” Zhané’s “Hey Mr. D.J.,” Foxy’s “Get Off,” and Cheo Feliciano’s “El Ratón.” I perform the hustle in the play, and I’ve become quite proficient, so I make sure to keep my moves sharp!
COFFEE AND CREATIVE TIME: I dedicate at least two hours daily, often more, to writing—it’s my favorite and most sacred part of the day, my true creative outlet. I work in our orange living room, though my cat often joins me, jumping onto my computer and causing a few typos!
TENNIS THROWDOWN: Around 9 a.m., I head to Randall’s Island for a couple of hours of tennis with my son, Lucas Leguizamo, 24. This is easily one of the highlights of my week. I’ve been playing for six years, and for the past two, I’ve had the pleasure of playing alongside Lucas. It’s truly a blast; watching him dominate on the court is incredibly thrilling as a dad.
PRESHOW FIX: I return home just after noon to prepare lunch, typically eggs with manchego cheese and avocado. We also have a chef who preps meals for us twice a week, so I often enjoy those dishes, which consist of salmon or chicken thighs—prepared without salt or oil—accompanied by broccoli and brown rice.
PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT: My assistant, Joe, is my secret weapon for running lines. He’s truly the best because his acting skills make the practice engaging and enjoyable. I make sure to rehearse any challenging passages at least five times.
REHEARSAL: My afternoon begins at 1 p.m. at the rehearsal space. I connect with the director, Ruben Santiago-Hudson, and the cast to discuss new lines I’ve written, Ruben’s notes for fresh approaches, and any challenges the actors are facing. We then move into dance class, followed by fight choreography, culminating in a semi run-through. We usually wrap up by 4:30 p.m., after which I attend physical therapy before heading home for a brief rest and a quick 20-minute writing session.
CIRCLE UP: By 6:30 p.m., I’m biking back to the theater, preparing my body, mind, and voice, and connecting with the cast. We then form a beautiful circle, a tradition Ruben initiated, where we discuss our goals for the evening’s performance. Holding hands, we get ready to go out and give it our all.
POST-SHOW BITE: Once the curtain falls around 10:30 p.m., I head to the Library at the Public Theater. I often indulge in their deviled eggs or spicy vodka rigatoni, always with unsweetened iced tea. For about 30 minutes, I chat with guests and fellow actors before reattaching my bike lights and carefully cycling home, hoping to avoid any traffic mishaps.
TIRED AND WIRED: I usually arrive home between 11:30 p.m. and midnight, feeling completely exhausted yet strangely energized—it’s a peculiar combination. My wife typically asks about the show, and then we’ll settle down for a game of Mexican Train, our current favorite. If we have a bit more energy, we might play a round of backgammon. Afterwards, we often listen to a political podcast; she’s a big fan of comedian Tim Dillon’s show, or sometimes we opt for “Ear Hustle” or Judge Napolitano.
OUT LIKE A LIGHT: With the demands of the play, getting my full eight hours of sleep has become more challenging. Thankfully, I fall asleep quickly. Sleep is my ultimate escape, and I make sure to prioritize it.