‘Under Milk Wood’ is inventive and stunning
Dylan Thomas, the great Welsh poet, died prematurely and tragically in New York City in 1953 at age 39. Yet he managed to leave behind a remarkable collection of brilliant and original poetry, stunning in its aural beauty and vigorous rhythmic eccentricity. Even those with little interest in poetry will likely recognize the first lines of his most famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night; Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
Shortly before he died, Thomas finished writing his dramatic masterpiece, “Under Milk Wood: A Play for Voices,” which he labored over for about 10 years. Despite the subtitle (the play was written for radio), “Under Milk Wood” has received many full theatrical productions over the years — including a wonderful production in Chicago in the 1990s that ran for almost two years — and has even been adapted for film and television.
The language of the play is so rich and robust that it is difficult to perform credibly. It is with great delight, then, that I can report on West End Productions’ current revival, brilliantly performed by eight courageous and vocally competent actors and directed with panache by Joe Feldman.
“Under Milk Wood” dramatizes the nocturnal dream visions and diurnal peregrinations of dozens of characters from a fictional seaside village in Wales, Llareggub, over the course of one spring day. (Llareggub sounds Welsh, but the word is Thomas’s invention; if you read it from back to front you will gain insight into the linguistically playful and ribald mind of the great poet.)
Feldman begins the show with all the actors piled together deep in sleep; when one of them changes position or moves ever so slightly, the rest follow suit. It’s not only comical in its execution, but a brilliant metaphor for the interconnections of the lives of these villagers, and indeed of all humanity.
It’s dawn, and shortly they will rise to start their day, but we are privy to their dreams, as the narrator tells us directly: “Only your eyes are unclosed to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep.”
There is no plot to speak of, and even if you occasionally lose the meaning behind the language, it still thrills.
Some highlights are Blind Captain Cat dreaming of his dead lover, Rosie Probert; Reverend Eli Jenkins greeting every new day with a poem; would-be poisoner Mr. Pugh patiently meeting his wife’s every assault as sweetly as can be; compulsively neat Mrs. Ogmore-Pritchard and her two husbands, the apparitions Mr. Ogmore and Mr. Pritchard; Polly Garter singing of her favorite lover: “But the one I love best awake or asleep, was little Willy Wee and he’s six feet deep.” That is just a very small sampling of this most rich pageant.
This is a wonderful production, linguistically stunning, of course, but also staged with inventive animation. Not to be missed.
I’d like to dedicate this review to another great Welsh poet, David Wilde (1944-2019), who will no longer need to rage against the dying of the light. May his memory be eternal.
“Under Milk Wood” is playing through Nov. 10, at the VSA North Fourth Art Center, 4904 Fourth NW. Go to westendproductions.org or call 404-8462 for reservations.