
Of
Mice and Men
By
John Steinbeck
Directed by Joe Discher
Critical
Reviews
 |
Mark
Mineart as Lennie and Ron Brice as Crooks.
Photo © Warren Westura. |
The
New York Times says"Mark Mineart gives a profoundly
moving performance" as Lennie
"Perfectly
wonderful!" hails Variety
The
Star-Ledger names Of Mice and Men "the
finest revival of the year"
"A
'must-see' play!" says the Daily Record
"The
Shakespeare Theatre continues to stage knockout productions,
one after the other. This is one of the very best," says
the Princeton Packet
Sunday,
September 19, 2004
Excerpted from "'Of
Mice and Men': Steinbeck's Bunkhouse, Filled with Tension"
By
Naomi Siegel
If
there were any dry eyes opening night at the conclusion of
The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey's gut-wrenching production
of "Of Mice and Men," they were the exception. The deafening
silence that greeted the final blackout and the cheers that
followed gave witness to the enduring power of John Steinbeck's
dramatization of his 1937 novel to grab its audience by the
heart and never let go.
...George,
played by Graham Winton with feisty determination tempered
by depths of feeling, is in charge. Lennie, large and lumbering,
with a mind unable to remember or think rationally, tags along
at his side. Lennie is a time bomb waiting to detonate, and
Mark Mineart gives a profoundly moving performance as the
childlike yet physically powerful outcast.
Together,
they form a family unit, "because I got you to look after
me," Lennie solemnly intones, "and you got me to look after
you…and that's why."
Arriving
at the new ranch, the two are quickly enmeshed in the power
plays and personal vendettas that involve the workers, the
boss and the boss's pugnacious son Curley (Marc Aden Gray).
Candy, and old codger kept on by the owners as compensation
for losing a hand, is played with tenderness by Jim Mohr.
He totes his ancient, blind sheepdog around by a rope and
acts as major domo. Slim (Paul Niebanck) heads the team of
barley pickers, or "buckers." Described by the author as standing
and moving "with a kind of majesty," Mr. Niebanck's Slim lends
a sobering sense of authority to the raucous bunkhouse...
...Only
Crooks, the black stable buck, not permitted to room with
the rest of the men, is spared the tension of the bunkhouse.
Ron Brice mines the bitter loneliness of the crippled, friendless
man.
Under
Joe Discher's sensitive direction, individually memorable
portraits blend skillfully into a whole....The revival is
timely and devastatingly effective.
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Sunday, September 12, 2004
By Robert L. Daniels
When John Steinbeck dramatized his 1937 novel "Of Mice
and Men" for the stage, it was honored with the New York
Drama Critics Circle award. While there have been four television
and film versions, and two major Broadway revivals, the play
has seldom revealed the dusty and turbulent realism that director
Joe Discher has unveiled in a new production by the Shakespeare
Theater of New Jersey. Discher has illustrated the drama's
true grit, evoked the Depression era with grim realism and
defined the unusual kinship of itinerant farm workers.
George, the earthy, decent and protective travelin' pal is
acted with frustrated spunk and calming concern by Graham
Winton. Mark Mineart is Lennie, the burly giant with the mind
of a child. He is a simple-minded hulk who harbors unreasonable
strength. He crushes birds, field mice and puppies with his
misdirected affection. His fondness for stroking soft furry
things is ultimately his undoing when he encounter's the foxy
wife of Curley, the ranch owner's surly son. Mineart captures
Lennie's innocence, humor and blundering anger with a clear,
keen balance of emotional truth.
Curley's wife is played by Victoria Mack with teasing flirtatiousness,
and praise be, she avoids the usual slatternly approach. There
is a poignant desperation in her attempt to flee the muddy
entrapment of farm life for the silver-screen glamour of Hollywood.
There is a perfectly wonderful performance by Jim Mohr as
Candy, the pathetic old-timer. Candy is the weathered and
grizzly amputee whose sole passion is for his mangy, doomed
mongrel. (And where did director Discher ever find such a
sorry looking old drag-footed sheepdog?) Mohr's gossipy old
codger dominates every scene in which he appears and brings
a colorful crusty balance to the narrative.
Marc Aden Gray is properly brash and bullying as the viciously
belligerent Curley, and Ron Brice provides a feisty portrait
of the black crook-backed stable keeper.
Discher's resourceful staging is hard-hitting, yet he nicely
defines the play's gentler moments, especially when George
tells Lennie about the little farm they'll soon share to find
a gentler life living "off the fatta the lan'."
Steinbeck's yarn is a compelling human drama and Discher has
tapped its full eloquence and its poetic grandeur.
Tech credits are firmly defined with bunkhouse beds that will
leave the viewer scratching and a barn with a deathbed of
cleansing yellow straw. The incidental rural music adds a
touch of down-home flavor to the scene changes. A subtle and
keen lighting design by Matthew E. Adelson, accents the sorrow
and the fury.
© 2004 Reed
Business Information
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Monday, September
13, 2004
"Close
to perfection: A masterful revival of Steinbeck's 'Of Mice
and Men'"
By Peter Filichia
Back in the 17th century, when Puritan girls were sewing their
samplers, they purposely made a mistake while stitching. That
was their way of saying that only God can make something perfect.
Maybe that's why, on Saturday night at the Shakespeare Theatre
of New Jersey, one of the actors in "Of Mice and Men"
raised his eyebrow about a quarter-inch too high during a
second act revelation.
In staging what is the finest revival of the year, director
Joe Discher must have purposely had that actor over-react,
in order to skirt perfection. Considering that he made no
other mistake with John Steinbeck's classic, this could be
the only explanation.
Discher certainly formulated some best-laid plans for "Of
Mice and Men" when he cast Graham Winton as George and
Mark Mineart as his behemoth friend Lennie. They're superb
as the two migrant workers who wonder where they'll find their
next meal, let alone job.
Winton appears to be a grown-up version of the boy Thomas
Sully painted in his famous 1820 portrait, "The Torn
Hat." He shows George's discomfort at making the decisions
for both himself and Lennie. How well he knows that, as the
brains of the operation, he isn't as good as the dim-witted
Lennie is as the brawn. Throughout the play, Winton displays
a man who wishes he could tell Lennie that he depends on the
big guy more than his pal needs him.
Lennie is a role that can be too easily caricatured if an
actor isn't careful, but Mineart is magnificent as the eager-to-please,
simple man. He gives a big smile when he's able to remember
a certain fact, and then, if the memory isn't a pleasant one,
follows it with a sudden frown. Then he shows great shame
when he can't remember a salient fact. Along the way, Mineart
captures the dignity of a person who's trying his best.
There's a scene where Lennie and George are sitting by a campfire.
Lighting designer Matthew E. Adelson has George's face illuminated
by the coals, but not Lennie's, for he's sitting too far away.
No matter; the enthusiasm that Mineart gives lights up his
face anyway.
These two alone would make this production worth seeing, but
Discher's supporting cast is astonishing in its matter-of-fact,
natural approach to the material.
As their new boss, Joe Mancuso needs only to appear and give
one look that strikes fear into both of them. Mark Aden Gray
plays the boss' son with the confidence of one who can't be
fired, but shows the heel's Achilles heel in worrying that
his wife will cuckold him.
He's right to worry. Victoria Mack plays her as if she's Marilyn
Monroe, waiting for a blast of hot air to blow her skirt high
above her waist.
In each word and gesture, Paul Niebanck potently shows the
profound decency of Slim, the foreman. Jim Mohr is heartbreaking
as the old geezer who's told his ancient dog must be put to
sleep. And as the young man who tells George all about the
neighborhood brothel, Chris Landis is remarkably real.
While the final scenes were played at Saturday's opening,
the audience's rapt silence was interrupted by the sound of
purses being zipped open and unclasped. After women wiped
their eyes with their hankies, men next to them motioned that
they should hand them over. "Of Mice and Men" centers
on people's need to talk, but it left this audience speechless.
© nj.com
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Friday, September
17, 2004
"Shakespeare
Theatre is Compelling in Steinbeck's Tale of Thwarted Hopes
"
By William Westhoven
There are so many
reasons to see the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey's production
of "Of Mice and Men" that it might be hard to fit them all
on one page.
So for now, let's
skip over the obvious points that elevate John Steinbeck's
great American drama about two Depression-era itinerant workers
struggling to keep their dreams alive.
Since it was required
reading for most Baby Boomers, most of us are intimately familiar
with the story. If not, there have been myriad movie and stage
versions of what Steinbeck called a "playable novel" to burn
the image of George and Lennie into our brains.
The audience's close
relationship with these characters — George, the tightly
wound "brains" of the two-man operation, and Lennie, the slow-witted,
behemoth man-child whose brawn can outwork a truckload of
bindle bums — puts the actors at a disadvantage.
Broderick Crawford,
James Earl Jones, Randy Quaid and John Malkovich have all
done Lennie proud, while Robert Blake and Gary Sinise can
be counted among the greater Georges.
The trick is to
find actors who aren't afraid of the ghosts, and with Mark
Mineart and Graham Winton, the Theatre has two fearless forces
at the top of a playoff-worthy lineup. Director Joe Discher
wisely clears the stage of props and clutter as he introduces
us to them and lets everyone get to know each other.
Winton's subtle
body language helps us sympathize with George even when he's
scolding Lennie for his childish behavior and sifting memory,
or lamenting how much easier his life could be if he was on
his own. You know he doesn't mean it, even before he says
so. He's just frustrated with his own tragedy, hitching rides
from one back-breaking job to another for slave wages.
As Lennie, of course,
Mineart has the tougher job, starting with the physical attributes
required to play the part. As one basketball coach used to
say, "you can't teach tall," but Mineart's broad shoulders
and 6-foot-5 frame more than fills the mold. So does his long,
oval face, with dark eyes, swirling brows and a rubbery mouth
framed by a bald head and round chin. His features and expression
are almost liquid as he flows from gleeful giggling to frightened
puppy.
He runs the full
range of emotions sitting on a tiny nail barrel as he tells
Crooks, the crippled black muleskinner, about how he and George
are this close to their dream of owning a farm and "living
off the fat of the land." And when he's forced to defend himself
against Curly (Marc Aden Gray), the hot-tempered son of the
ranch boss, rather than lighting up his eyes as though a switch
was turned on, Mineart's eyes instead go blank, as if something
was turned off. It's an important distinction, one that helps
reinforce that Lennie's actions are not only beyond his control,
but are completely passive as well...
...Other actors
offer additional reasons to make this a "must-see" play. Theatre
veteran Paul Niebanck ("Pygmalion," "Rhinoceros," "The Crucible")
flaunts his amazing range as the quietly dignified Slim, while
Jim Mohr (seen with Niebanck last year in "Pygmalion") is
touching as Candy, the aging ranch hand who literally buys
his way into George and Lennie's dream.
Marion Williams'
flexible set uses panels that slide and fold into barns, bunkhouses
and other authentic ramshackle structures. Lighting designer
Matthew E. Adelson's backsplash of light streaks suggests
a peaceful California wheatfield where a working man can rest
easy under the stars. They make a suitable frame for a portrait
of tragedy that is sometimes uncomfortably real.
© 2004 The
Daily Record
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Wednesday,
September 15, 2004
Excerpted
from "The Shakespeare Theatre Chases the
Dreams
of John Steinbeck's Depression-Era Farmhands"
By Stuart
Duncan
...The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey in
Madison has set new and very high standards with a staging
that is certain to be on everyone's "best of" lists
for 2004...
...Most productions
emphasize friendship as the core of the play, but here
director Joe Discher adds dreams to the focus - the
dreams of George and Lennie about that farm somewhere,
some day; the dreams of the old migrant laborer, Candy,
about joining them on that farm; the dream of Curley's
wife to go to Hollywood some day soon. Dream after dream.
A sensitive
cast takes its time exploring Steinbeck's Depression-tinged
characters. Graham Winton is a superb George, balancing
macho and empathy with breathtaking ease. Mark Mineart
gives a haunting performance as Lennie - most remarkable
in that until he opens his mouth, one would never know
the childlike personality beneath. Give director Discher
credit: He took a few members of the company to visit
his sister, who is afflicted with Down Syndrome, to
deepen their understanding of their roles.
Jim Mohr
returns for his fifth season with the company to play
Candy, the old one-armed worker beset by his own dreams.
It is a tremendously touching performance. There is
also a 14-year-old mixed-breed dog who steals audience's
hearts before he breaks them. Paul Niebanck returns
for his seventh year as Slim, underplaying the role
with exquisite grace. Victoria Mack also returns, this
time as Curley's wife, the siren with the roving eye.
You may remember her from Pygmalion and Love's
Labour's Lost . Marion Williams' set design is
both practical and inventive. Matthew E. Adelson lights
it well.
The Shakespeare
Theatre continues to stage knockout productions, one
after the other. This is one of the very best.
©PACKETONLINE
News Classifieds Entertainment Business - Princeton
and Central New Jersey 2004
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Excerpted from www.TalkinBroadway.com
By Bob Rendell
...The cast is exemplary.
There is a naturalness to the ensemble performance which makes
Marion Williams' sets and costumes feel lived in. Mark Mineart
is a fully nuanced Lennie, simultaneously fearsome and sympathetic.
Graham Winton is a very human George, humane, but not without
bad temper. In the hands of Mineart and Winton, Lennie and
George's odd couple relationship is always believable.
Jim Mohr as the elderly Candy who finds renewed cause for
hope, Marc Aden as the tightly wound, cruel Candy, Paul Niebanck
as the decent crew chief, mule skinner Slim, and young Ron
Brice as the elderly Crooks, whose loneliness is intensified
by racial discrimination, are especially impressive in their
verisimilitude. Victoria Mack, who has been most impressive
in a variety of roles at STNJ, again delivers first rate work
in the pivotal role of Curley's wife.
As noted, director Joe Discher delivers a straight forward,
naturalistic production. This is no small feat. Any attempt
at a more revelatory approach would have been misguided.
"Of Mice and Men" is a prime example of a clear
and concise work whose riches are clearly and immediately
revealed. However, it is neither simple nor simplistic. It
sticks in the mind. I have found this to be the case ever
since I first read it as a child a half century ago. It is
quite a life lesson. I recommend that you get over to the
Shakespeare Theatre and experience it yourself.
© www.talkinbroadway.com
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Excerpted from www.TheaterScene.net
By Simon Saltzman
...As if to prove
that this world between reality and fantasy is as resonant
today as ever, Joe Discher has staged a sturdily humanized
production for the Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey. It works
mainly because it fully embraces the central meaningful relationship
within the play. Certainly the fraternal love between George
and Lennie is even more to the point in 2004. This is the
dimension of the plot that remains universal rather than the
predictably tragic plot or the one dimensional supporting
characters.
It is also fortunate that Graham Winton, as George, and Mark
Mineart, as Lennie, two migrant agricultural workers, have
sought to go one step beyond the more obvious and stereotypical
models for their characters. Because of this, the core of
the play — the strange but symbiotic relationship of
two unwitting victims of the times — is able to support
the weaker circumference, the vision of a social system empowered
by greed and materialism.
As keeper of the
flame and Lennie's fraternal protector, Winton shows us that
amount of inner tenderness and outward strength that gives
this pivotal character its principal resonance. The scenes,
in which Lennie and George talk and dream of owning a farm
together, are touching indeed and easily validate their friendship
and the support they bring to each other. The excellence of
Discher's direction is even more notable in the way he seems
to have encouraged the more emotionally disconnected migrant
workers around them to exist as distinct and illuminating
worlds unto themselves.
The play reaches its most dramatic detour when a series of
tragic accidents occur involving Curley (Marc Aden Gray),
the farm's bullying foreman and Curley's skittish wife (Victoria
Mack). While the most important element in the play is the
empathy that is mustered for Lennie and George, the strong
impression made by the supporting cast is significant. Red-haired
wiry Gray is a combustible bundle of nerves, as the neurotically
bad-tempered Curley. Mack presents a provocative image of
a manipulative coquette without turning her into a cheap floozy.
Paul Niebanck fuels his role as Slim, the mule team foreman,
with an appealing mix of compassion and virility. Notwithstanding
the dying old dog and companion he drags along with him, Jim
Mohr targets our hearts, as the physically handicapped Candy,
whose memory of his visit to a swank cat house twenty years
ago deserves the applause it gets. Joe Mancuso, as The Boss,
Michael Daly, as the feisty Carlson, Chris Landis, as the
youthful Whit, and Brice, as the embittered Crooks, contribute
mightily to the reality.
© www.theaterscene.net
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