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Our Town review – an unforgettable evocation of Everytown Our Town review – an unforgettable evocation of Everytown
(about 1 hour later)
We are used to seeing old plays given a radical makeover. I never expected, however, to see Thornton Wilder’s 1938 popular classic given quite such a startlingly fresh look. Imported from off-Broadway, David Cromer’s production not only transforms the Almeida into something resembling a village hall, with the audience seated on three sides of a virtually bare stage; more crucially, Cromer gets his British cast to use their local accents with invigorating results.We are used to seeing old plays given a radical makeover. I never expected, however, to see Thornton Wilder’s 1938 popular classic given quite such a startlingly fresh look. Imported from off-Broadway, David Cromer’s production not only transforms the Almeida into something resembling a village hall, with the audience seated on three sides of a virtually bare stage; more crucially, Cromer gets his British cast to use their local accents with invigorating results.
Wilder’s play is full of pitfalls. Its evocation of life in a small, New Hampshire town in the early 1900s seems implausibly idyllic: the only deviant in this righteously decent community is a drunken choirmaster. Wilder also presents the action through the eyes of a Stage Manager whose folksy complacency was once scorchingly employed by Kenneth Tynan in a parodic review of William Faulkner’s Requiem for a Nun. Even Wilder’s formal innovations have been picked up by others: his portrayal of a bride’s inner panic was brilliantly exploited by Stephen Sondheim in a number in Company, Getting Married Today.Wilder’s play is full of pitfalls. Its evocation of life in a small, New Hampshire town in the early 1900s seems implausibly idyllic: the only deviant in this righteously decent community is a drunken choirmaster. Wilder also presents the action through the eyes of a Stage Manager whose folksy complacency was once scorchingly employed by Kenneth Tynan in a parodic review of William Faulkner’s Requiem for a Nun. Even Wilder’s formal innovations have been picked up by others: his portrayal of a bride’s inner panic was brilliantly exploited by Stephen Sondheim in a number in Company, Getting Married Today.
Yet, astonishingly, Wilder’s play still works; and one of the reasons is Cromer’s own fine performance as the Stage Manager. He avoids both pipe-sucking homeliness and lofty condescension by playing the character as a quasi-Brechtian narrator who conjures up daily life in Grover’s Corners with a coolly observant eye. A small, compact figure with lightly greying hair, Cromer even invests the lines with a faint irony. When he says, “Almost everybody in the world gets married– you know what I mean?”, he hints at the newly inclusive nature of modern marriage.Yet, astonishingly, Wilder’s play still works; and one of the reasons is Cromer’s own fine performance as the Stage Manager. He avoids both pipe-sucking homeliness and lofty condescension by playing the character as a quasi-Brechtian narrator who conjures up daily life in Grover’s Corners with a coolly observant eye. A small, compact figure with lightly greying hair, Cromer even invests the lines with a faint irony. When he says, “Almost everybody in the world gets married– you know what I mean?”, he hints at the newly inclusive nature of modern marriage.
Assuming the role of a minister, Cromer also observes, with the wryest of smiles, that he has officiated at countless birth and death ceremonies and “once in a thousand times it’s interesting”. In his capacity as director, Cromer has successfully stripped the play of the visual cliches that have accumulated over the years. “How can you do the play without stepladders?” an American colleague asked; but Cromer does just that in the famous scene where two teenagers converse at night from adjacent windows. The intimate simplicity of Stephen Dobay’s design also means that, during the wedding scene, a guest chats to members of the audience with spontaneous ease. And I will not spoil the devasting impact of the climactic scene, in which a dead woman returns to her childhood home, except to say that Cromer breaks with the non-naturalistic style that has gone before. Assuming the role of a minister, Cromer also observes, with the wryest of smiles, that he has officiated at countless birth and death ceremonies and “once in a thousand times it’s interesting”. In his capacity as director, Cromer has successfully stripped the play of the visual cliches that have accumulated over the years. “How can you do the play without stepladders?” an American colleague asked; but Cromer does just that in the famous scene where two teenagers converse at night from adjacent windows. The intimate simplicity of Stephen Dobay’s design also means that, during the wedding scene, a guest chats to members of the audience with spontaneous ease. And I will not spoil the devastating impact of the climactic scene, in which a dead woman returns to her childhood home, except to say that Cromer breaks with the non-naturalistic style that has gone before.
But the most daring decision is to cast this quintessentially American play with British actors. At first it seems odd, but you soon grasp that the aim is to show that Wilder’s play taps into our collective folk-memory. It also lends the play a rich tonal variety. Rhashan Stone brings his own sombre dignity to Dr Gibbs, Kate Dickie is audibly Scottish as his neighbouring Mrs Gibbs, and David Walmsley and Laura Elsworthy as their respective children seemingly hail from the English north. I am normally wary of an imposed universality, but the implication is clear: Our Town is every town. Wilder’s play strives too hard at times for homespun wisdom. But the beauty of Cromer’s production is that it highlights Wilder’s virtues rather than his faults; what comes across unforgettably is the warmth of the dramatist’s affection for mundane, daily reality and his tocsin-like reminder of the evanescence of human existence.But the most daring decision is to cast this quintessentially American play with British actors. At first it seems odd, but you soon grasp that the aim is to show that Wilder’s play taps into our collective folk-memory. It also lends the play a rich tonal variety. Rhashan Stone brings his own sombre dignity to Dr Gibbs, Kate Dickie is audibly Scottish as his neighbouring Mrs Gibbs, and David Walmsley and Laura Elsworthy as their respective children seemingly hail from the English north. I am normally wary of an imposed universality, but the implication is clear: Our Town is every town. Wilder’s play strives too hard at times for homespun wisdom. But the beauty of Cromer’s production is that it highlights Wilder’s virtues rather than his faults; what comes across unforgettably is the warmth of the dramatist’s affection for mundane, daily reality and his tocsin-like reminder of the evanescence of human existence.
• Until 29 November. Box office: 020-7359 4404. Venue: Almeida, London• Until 29 November. Box office: 020-7359 4404. Venue: Almeida, London