Our Town Was Made for You and Me

David Cromer, who has reworked Our Town for the Almeida Theatre, also stars in the production in the role of stage manager, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The Almeida Theatre has welcomed actor/director David Cromer to work his magic with Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. The play has been hailed as one of the best-known and most-performed plays in the United States. It was first introduced on Broadway in 1938 and was revolutionary for its time because it disobeyed typical theatre customs. The play is lacking in set and relies on minimal props and natural lighting to tell the story. Wilder broke the fourth wall, which is usually the boundary separating the audience from the action.

Use your imagination! Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) prepares "food," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Indeed, these breaks from normal conventions are evident from the very start of Our Town. The audience is subjected to what can barely be called a stage due to its inclusive nature. Members of the audience are actually situated in the same vicinity as the actors. Two tables with four chairs reside on the space to make up the layout. Cromer acts as the stage manager throughout the play, and as he comments directly to us, this is “scenery for those who think they have to have scenery.”

 Audience members are seated in close proximity to the actors and to the "scenery for those who think they have to have scenery," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Our Town is appealing because it takes the humdrum and twists it into a production that is watchable and simultaneously relatable. As the description of the play on the Almeida Theatre’s website states, “We all grow-up, we fall in love, we have families and we all die. That is our story.” That is everyone’s story and it’s a universal one at that. You would think that watching a play about something we enact everyday would be monotonous, but if anything, it makes you even more invested in the storyline.

David Walmsley during rehearsal, who plays Emily Webb's friend and eventual husband, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner 

             As little Emily Webb (Laura Elsworthy) awkwardly flirts with her neighbor, George Gibbs (David Walmsley), I can feel the collective sigh of the audience as they recollect their own personal experiences with adolescence. George attempts a marriage proposal over milkshakes and we watch on throughout the marriage ceremony. Emily and George have a family together, but Emily dies young giving birth to their second child.

Laura Elsworthy (Emily Webb) pictured with Daniel Kendrick (milkman Howie Newsome) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Just like the changing of seasons, we lay witness to a speeded-up version of life’s stages. It was life portrayed in two hours and five minutes, including two intervals, to be exact. You need to be cognizant not to take intermissions from life however. Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie) and Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) gossip like neighbors do and prepare food for dinner. The cheery milkman Howie Newsome (Daniel Kendrick) does his rounds, pulling along his imaginary (at least to the human eye) cow. Dr. Gibbs scolds his son for focusing more on baseball than helping his mother.

Milkman Howie Newsome delivering milk with his "cow" in tow, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) takes the stage, providing us with a lecture and reciting statistics about the town. Cromer hands members of the audience slips of paper with questions on to ask Willard, which was an inclusion representative of the friendliness and involvement of small towns. In the Almeida Theatre that night, we were all a town in our own right.  

Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) tells the audience all about the history of the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) is the emotional wedding guest as she gushes about Emily and George's beautiful wedding. Members of the community attend choir practice at the local church. Then, of course there is the town drunk and church organist, Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines). Compared to the utter normality of the rest of the town, his unruly behavior lends itself to perpetuating the rumor that he is becoming evermore unhinged.

Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines) drunkenly leads the local church's choir group which leads to an interesting practice session, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             In succinct summary, that is the story of Our Town, but the message is much greater in the grand scheme of things. After Emily dies, she descends to a resting place in the graveyard with others who she once knew in the town. One such resident is Stimson, who took his own life. At first, she is just as full of life as she was when she was alive, but this quickly takes a sharp turn for the worst. Emily is puzzled about the cold detachment of the residents of the surrounding tombstones. She realizes that she is able to revisit a prior time in her life, so she chooses one of her birthdays at home with her parents.

Wally Webb (Arthur Byrne), another resident of the graveyard, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             At this point, the only semblance of a set throughout the entire performance is revealed behind a curtain, fully equipped with things such as: food, a staircase, a kitchen area, a dining room with a table and chairs, and windows. The actors’ British accents have also morphed into American ones, a very subtle change that implies the sameness of all towns. One is like the other is like the other. The people might change, but the stories stay the same.

Emily helps her mother, Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie), with food preparation, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             With increasing panic, Emily notices that her parents and her younger self hardly look at one another during this otherworldly experience. She exclaims, “That's all human beings are! Just blind people.” Stimson seconds this thought from the grave, claiming that people live in a “cloud of ignorance and blindness.” Perhaps most profound, however, is when Emily poses the question, “Do people realize life as they live it?” Cromer comes in at this point and quips, “Some; saints and poets do.” The answer is most likely a realistic no, especially in London, where everyone seems to be in some sort of a hurry.

Rebecca Gibbs (Jessica Lester) and her brother George enjoy simple pleasures, such as stargazing, in the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             I left the theatre concerned for my own mortality, having just viewed the final scene where Emily comes to terms with her death and adopts a stoic stance to the outside world. Even as her widowed husband visits her at her grave, she joins the others in miniscule talk of things such as the weather.

Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The nature of life is that of a never-ending vicious cycle, much like the washing cycle of a load of laundry that spins and spins until it eventually must cease out of domestic exhaustion. When referring to Mrs. Webb and Mrs. Gibbs, Cromer says, half in jest and half in truth, "They brought up two children apiece, washed, cleaned the house — and never a nervous breakdown." Unlike human beings, plays and the characters in them are eternal. Well, let’s all hope we keep pleasure in our lives to a maximum while keeping nervous breakdowns to a minimum.

             Catch Our Town at the Almeida Theatre before it ends its run on November 29^th. Purchase tickets (while you still can!) here.   

That's all folks! As the stage manager, Cromer (pictured here during rehearsal) provides a running commentary throughout the play, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

Join the (Little) Revolution

Ian played by Barry McCarthy (left), Alan Dein played by Rufus Wright (center) and Alecky Blythe as herself (right) with her recurrently occurring Dictaphone, photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             After my four-month hiatus from London, I arrived safely and soundly back to the great city just over a week ago. With university classes the furthest thing from my mind, one of my first orders of business was to meet up with the Almeida. Before the boxes in my flat were even unpacked, I enthusiastically made my third trip to date to the quaint theatre in Islington. (For a refresher on the other plays I have seen at the Almeida, read my American Psycho review here and my 1984 review here).

     This time, the subject matter was slightly more somber and heavily weighted, due to the playwright’s direct interaction with real world events. I’m referring to the London riots of 2011, the events of which Alecky Blythe revisited in her verbatim play Little Revolution. This was my first experience attending a verbatim performance. In fact, there were many theatre firsts for me on that evening.

Kyle (Bayo Gbadamosi) gives the police a piece of his mind, photo courtesy of  Manuel Harlan

             Verbatim theatre uses the spoken, unaltered words of actual people who have been interviewed. In this case, Blythe toted her Dictaphone around the streets of London while the riots and relief efforts were occurring, in the desire to create what she coined a “documentary play.” She spoke with others about the unfolding events, managing to capture the true essence and emotion of what was intended in that instance.

             In regards to how that translates to the stage, the original accent, intonation, delivery, and speech pattern of the witnesses all remain the same, with actors filling in for the original individuals. Expect word for word reproductions, where no “um’s,” “ah’s,” awkward silences, or personality quirks go amiss. A very nice touch was when Blythe (starring as herself) forgot to turn her Dictaphone on. We watched on in silence as Blythe and Colin (played by Lucian Msamati) mimed to one another, only comprehending the few fragments we could lip-read.

Hackney residents Colin (Lucian Msamati) and Deanne (Clare Perkins), photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             From the onset of entering the stalls where I was seated, I was awestruck by the Almeida’s transformation yet again. The stage has morphed every time I have visited, adapting to each creative endeavor. In place of a stage, there was instead what I can only refer to as an allocated show space. The auditorium made standing seats available, while all clear dividing lines between seated audience members and the cast had vanished. I felt as if it was “story time,” and like a gaggle of geese, we were all crowded around, ears perked, ready to be told a good tale. 

Lloyd Hutchinson lays down the law, photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             Perhaps a community meeting would be a more appropriate comparison. The energy of the play was so electrically charged, mimicking the pent-up anger and frustration, impassioned cries, and sometimes nonsensical nature that surrounded the riots. Blythe clutched her Dictaphone for dear life, especially during one scene when she was confronted by a looter concerned about whether she had any photo evidence of his misdeed. 

Rez Kempton as Siva (center), whose shop has been destroyed in the riots, surrounded by the support of the Community Chorus, photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             Starring alongside Blythe were professional and non-professional actors alike. Little Revolution honed in on Hackney particularly. This is why I was delighted to learn that of the 31 volunteers (aged 16-74) forming the Community Chorus, some of them were recruited from Hackney, along with Islington and other London boroughs. This added to the already raw performance, granting it more depth and sincerity. 

Mother Jane (Ronni Ancona) voices her concerns about the police mistreatment of her son, photo courtesy of  Manuel Harlan

             During the show, I was subjected to a few heart-stopping scenarios. Outside of normal procedure, the theatre doors that open into the foyer of the Almeida flew wide open. Clanging and clattering noises and blinding lights overpowered the arena in a frenzied recreation of the riots. The cast began “looting,” grasping Pringle cans, a television set, and whatever else they could get their hands on as they made their speedy getaway. This “mini” revolution as the sage Colin commented was hardly any different to any major revolution. He observed that they all have fire and they all have looting. 

Dynamic duo Tony (Michael Shaeffer) and Sarah (Imogen Stubbs) take a stand to help Siva, photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             Resentment was omnipresent in the show, whether towards the police, the looters, or the younger residents of Hackney. However, we did glimpse the other side of the story, a story that hinted towards hope. Couple Tony (Michael Shaeffer) and Sarah (Imogen Stubbs) rallied a team together to host a tea party for raising moral (with an unfortunately low turnout), while meetings were organized and flyers handed out in the hopes of lessening the criminalization of Hackney youth. 

Melanie Ash speaks out as an activist while the Community Chorus listens in the background, photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             Blythe’s social commentary exemplified a community of people both simultaneously wanting to help and wanting to complain while turning a blind eye. Ignorance is indeed bliss, but then there’s the other saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Little Revolution offered plenty of nervous laughter to go around and there is always plenty of tea to go around. The activists ironically utilized stationary and tea products boasting, “I love Hackney.” While this sentiment remained genuine, the words are empty unless they are supported with actions reflecting it. Let us leave on the note of Ian’s (Barry McCarthy) perfectly succinct food for thought: “The idea is just to talk to one another.” Let us not just talk, but let us listen. 

Ian sums it up: "The idea is just to talk to one another," photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan

             Get involved and catch Little Revolution at the Almeida Theatre up until October 4^th. Book your tickets here.  

             [Author’s Note: London was not the only area affected by violence and carnage during the summer or 2011. Manchester, just to name one city, was also hit and I was there during the time all of these events were surfacing. I was on the last bus allowed out of the city center of Manchester for that evening. I only learned this later, alongside the news that the Miss Selfridge store I ate lunch across from had been set on fire by rioters.]

Sarah adds some flower power to the revolution, photo courtesy of Manuel Harlan