In Print


Click to enlarge

Follow the links to our archive of Thorsten's print interviews and articles about the characters he's portrayed.

Above: On the cover of the June 26, 2007 issue of Soap Opera Digest.

Related Sections

Applause, Applause

We Applaud The Best Performances Seen On Screen!
Thorsten Kaye
Outstanding Performer Of The Week Of April 1

Soap Opera Weekly

by Joe Gilberto, Published April 30, 2002

The climax of PORT CHARLES' "SECRETS" storyline saw Eve's shocking, sudden death. But as quick as her passing was, Ian's grief was slow to develop.

Thorsten Kaye walked us through every step of that process, which he traced with a minimum of emotional fireworks and theatrics but maximum impact. As the week began, Ian bounded into the hospital with a spring in his step, only to be informed that Eve was killed in a car wreck. His rejection of Kevin's reassuring hand and the confused look on his face signaled the long road of denial ahead.

Entering the morgue, Ian was full of bravado but was brought up short. Kaye sucked in a long breath and froze -- this was not how Ian imagined it. Kaye kept Ian's face stoic, but his eyes welled with tears betraying his emotion.

Kaye played Ian as detached -- sad, but not distraught -- for as long as possible before coming unraveled. With increasingly urgent gestures, he draped Eve's body in his coat (she was "so cold"), Ian desperately kissed her, and Kaye whispered his lines conspiratorially before surrendering to his grief.

Perhaps the actor's greatest achievement was making it seem romantic rather than morbid when Ian lay on the gurney beside Eve. Cuddled next to her corpse, Ian's fingers gently traced her jawline and lips. His brow furrowed with concern, his own jaw set with determination, Kaye made these twisted actions into gestures of devotion that illustrated Ian's grudging, growing acceptance. He didn't even want to admit to himself that Eve was gone, let alone admit that he was devastated by her loss.

Whether gruffly comforting Daniel, turning to stone at the sound of Eve's voice on the answering machine, or collapsing into a crumpled heap because he couldn't find Eve's "little box," Kaye used his physicality to externalize Ian's inner disintegration.

At the memorial service, as he looked longingly at his fellow mourners, Kaye's rigid body language showed us Ian was trying to be strong for them. The disheveled Kaye let his "Aw, shucks" attitude get swept up by his grief in great whooshing gasps as he tried to eulogize his wife, his speech alternating lucidity with sobs.

Cradling Ian's son and looking skyward, Kaye finally offered us a portrait of a strong man laid low by his one great vulnerability: his heart.