Ben Platt on his anxieties, sharing his marriage, Ahmanson residency

Ben Platt describes himself as a highly anxious person, but there is one place that keeps his nerves at bay: the stage.

That might sound counterintuitive to most people, but Platt grew up in the spotlight, and finds the immersive immediacy of live performance soothing. His mind can’t spin a web of worry when he’s belting out “Maybe This Time” by Kander and Ebb, or “Ease My Mind” from his debut studio album, “Sing to Me Instead.”

“I love having a directive, and also the suspension of time when you’re performing and you’re forced to be present,” Platt says during a recent interview. “It’s like my favorite thing. It’s kind of a drug.”

Platt will be in his sweet spot, beginning Friday, for a 10-day engagement at the Ahmanson Theater. The concert series, directed by Tony winner Michael Arden, is a West Coast extension of Platt’s 2024 residency at Broadway’s Palace Theatre, which featured an impressive array of guest stars, including Cynthia Erivo, Kacey Musgraves, Kristin Chenoweth and Leslie Odom Jr.

The L.A. shows, which feel like a homecoming to Platt, will also include special duets, but Platt is staying mum on just who will join him onstage. The surprise is part of the fun. Platt cites Judy Garland and her 1960s CBS variety show as his inspiration “in terms of the way that she would share herself in her solo shows, and how she had so many famous collaborations and moments that she created with bringing in other singers she admired.”

While the Palace show was highly tailored to Platt’s third studio album, “Honeymind,” which was released that same year, his Ahmanson gig is more holistic, showcasing the total breadth of his career, including all three of his albums, his hit Broadway musicals like “Dear Evan Hansen” and his Netflix series “The Politician.”

“There’s really no project I can think of that won’t be represented,” says Platt. “It feels like a little jewel box of all the stuff.”

Platt has a boyish face and a soft, self-assured speaking voice. In conversation, he is kind and centered, present and interested. At 32, he feels as if he is reaching a new plateau in life. One in which he is no longer precociously young, but not yet old — and all the wiser for it. He married actor and singer Noah Galvin last year. The couple thinks about having children, but Platt fears he would never sleep again with all the fretting he’d do about his child’s future.

That anxiety joins others: difficulty flying, a tendency toward hypochondria, and existential worries about happiness and fulfillment for himself and his loved ones. Platt touches wood often.

“At the center of it is the unknown,” says Platt. “The opposite of anxiety isn’t calm, it’s certainty. That’s why I love the controlled chaos of performing so much, because there’s adrenaline and there’s spontaneity and there’s feeling alive, but I know what the plan is. I know what’s expected of me. I know that I can deliver it and I know it makes me feel good to do it.”

“I want people to come to my shows. I want people to know the projects I’m doing. As a queer person, I want to share my marriage,” Ben Platt says. “But in a curated and safe way.”

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Platt is also pivoting in his use of social media to promote his work and engage with fans. When he was younger, he took a more bare-it-all approach, but he now sees great value in drawing firm boundaries around his private life.

“I want people to come to my shows. I want people to know the projects I’m doing. As a queer person, I want to share my marriage,” Platt says. “But in a curated and safe way.”

Platt admires the old-school mystery that stars of a former generation enjoyed, and seeks to emulate that as much as possible within a modern landscape filled with oversharing. Talking about himself — on his terms — onstage feels just right.

Acting and singing for a living isn’t exactly the most stable profession, and despite his fame, Platt is still at the whims of a changing and increasingly volatile industry. He tapes auditions regularly, and tries to find good work amid stiff competition. When things feel unsteady in that realm, Platt feels especially grateful for his ability to perform solo residencies like the one at the Ahmanson.

The shows ride the line between theatrical narrative and pop concert, and match Platt’s uniqueness as a performer. Since he began acting and singing as a child, Platt has never been just one thing.

As the son of film and theater producer Marc Platt and philanthropist Julie Platt, Platt says he had a “comically liberal upbringing.”

“I consider myself hugely privileged and blessed to have grown up here,” Platt says of L.A., where he attended the elite Harvard-Westlake School before studying at New York’s Columbia University. He felt drawn to New York because of the theater, but also “to have a space to really form myself as a person, and find who I am as an adult and as an artist outside of the intensive community that I grew up in.”

Coming back to L.A. for the Ahmanson shows represents a full-circle moment.

“It’s a circle that hopefully will continue for many years and change,” says Platt, knocking on wood one more time. “But at least for this chapter, it’s such a nice return.”