Our Town resonates in modern era
One of the strengths of Thornton Wilder’s groundbreaking American classic Our Town — and a reason why it has been produced endlessly since its 1938 première — is the timelessness of its message. Indeed, that message achieves new resonance in an era when many people seem more preoccupied with texting and checking their smartphones than establishing human connections.
Blue Bridge Repertory Theatre has mounted a remarkable revival of this beautifully written three-act play, which evokes the everyday lives of the inhabitants of Grover’s Corners, a fictional small town in New Hampshire, in 1901, 1904 and 1913.
While nothing much happens here in the dramatic terms we’ve become accustomed to in overwrought modern plays and movies, that’s part of the point, putting what we take for granted into a more universal context.
Within the microcosm of the interactions of two neighbouring families, the Gibbs and the Webbs, the play’s central dramatic development unfolds — the courtship, marriage and adulthood of young George Gibbs and Emily Webb.
One line in particular might haunt you when it’s over. It’s uttered by Emily, portrayed by Grace Vukovic with escalating dramatic impact that really takes hold in the second act: “Do human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?”
In a play that eloquently and wryly meditates on the passage of time, it’s a breathtaking moment.
Director Brian Richmond and his fine 19-member cast breathe new life into this, by turns, amusingly perceptive and heartbreaking play.
They adhere faithfully to Wilder’s original text and stage directions, augmented by sly references to “Canucks” and an apparent need for scenery — the original called for none — represented here by strips of fabric. The stage is largely bare, apart from an artfully arranged cluster of chairs, stools and planks functioning as props and furniture.
As the storytelling Stage Manager, Gary Farmer is an avuncular presence who makes great use of his bear-like physicality to draw us into the drama, from the moment he summons the cast, strategically seated in the audience, onstage to tell this story.
That meta-theatrical format, breaking down the fourth wall at every turn, is ingeniously exploited by Richmond, down to a crate labelled Blue Bridge Theatre Props from which actors retrieve imaginary props.
The large, impressive cast rises to the challenge of interpreting Wilder’s poetic language, with several standouts.
As George, Julien Bruce, who initially conjures up the image of a Zac Efron/Rob Lowe hybrid, reaches his transcendent moment in the classic scene in which George and Emily bare their romantic souls while sipping ice cream sodas. Another highlight is the sequence in which they have a conversation from twin stepladders depicting adjacent windows.
Richmond has extracted fine performances elsewhere, notably from Shauna Baird, a domestic force of nature as Mrs. Webb; Brian Linds as Dr. Gibbs; Cyllene Richmond, who warmly portrays Mrs. Gibbs; and Jacob Richmond as the melancholic town drunk.
Michael Armstrong is also drolly affecting as Mr. Webb, particularly when he offers dated words of wisdom to George, and Laurence Dean Ifill is both an amusing and essential atmospheric presence as Howie Newsome, the community’s milkman.
A huge plus in this production is how skilfully Richmond has interwoven the musical contributions of fiddler and music director Sarah Tradewell, guitarist Sheldon Graham, R.J. Peters on mandolin and Farmer’s harmonica work. Replacing the traditional congregational musical style with Appalachian music was a daring move, but it infuses the show with an infectious zest.
For the benefit of those who haven’t seen Our Town, we won’t reveal what transpires in the powerful third act, except to say these musical flourishes are put to particularly effective use. The same goes for Giles Hogya’s moodshifting lighting design.
Other assets in this must-see production include Treena Stubel’s choreography; Patricia Reilly’s spare set design and vintage costumes; and Jason King’s exceptional sound design, which makes you feel as if there’s a rooster at the Roxy, a neighing horse and more.
The downside is that the expository first act can be patience-trying, but nearly three hours later, this will seem a moot point.