Just
a week or so ago, this same marvelously restored theatre was home to the
cloistered interior garden of a religious community and the theatrical magic of
Cherry Jones and her colleagues in the traveling production of "Doubt". Now, the stage of the LaSalle
Bank Theatre
features a well-worn and functional municipal building's jury room in lower
Manhattan. Grimy windows, exposed wiring conduit, a suspended florescent
lighting fixture, and taped blinds that are not retro but real time. This is
Jury Room 2A and it really is 1954. Our twelve jurors enter heralded by a jazzy
trumpet solo and lonely piano, to decide the legal fate of a young man who has
been accused of murdering his father. By the time this intermission-less 100
minute deliberation period is over, we understand at least as much about the
men in this room as the youth whose fate they deliberate. This is taut and
fabulous theatre.
The
two best known faces in the fourteen person cast (including a 12-man jury, a
guard who checks in on the deliberating crew and the recorded voice of Robert
Prosky as the
Judge delivering the tail end of his jury instructions) are fabulous in their
roles and are merely part of the ensemble. Juror Eight is Richard Thomas (once and forever "John Boy
Walton" to millions), an architect, the initial hold out for "not
guilty" in the quick first vote, and a role known to most as played by Henry
Fonda in the
1957 film of the original 1954 play for television. George Wendt (beloved Norm in "Cheers") plays the beleaguered
jury foreman who valiantly attempts to organize the fragmented slice of
American voting society around the jury room table. Our 2007 eyes need to
accommodate the glare of the sea of white and male faces that populate this 1954
play. When we do adjust our eyesight, we find among the ten additional jurors,
in roles as written and performances as delivered, a fabulous ensemble
experience. You may be drawn into the theatre to greet Norm at the Cheers bar
or to wish John Boy a "good night", but it is this ensemble and the
beauties of this production that will rivet you.
The
clock on the jury room wall starts along with the play. It is 4:40pm on a
steamy summer day in un-air-conditioned 1954 Manhattan. Sweat stains soak the
backs of almost every character's shirt and coat. After preliminary character
establishing dialogue, the jury first vote at occurs at 5pm by the stage clock
and we're off on a swiftly paced adventure. By 40 minutes into the play, the
relentless pace begins to disturb me. Where are the spaces between the
speeches? I then realize that the audience and these characters were on a
meticulously timed and well-honed 100 minute ride. And it is soon clear that
the director and the actors do indeed find those little contemplative spaces at
the edges of conversations and sometimes at the literal edges of the room
during breaks and the ride takes over. This production is full of emotion and
human interaction. It is not all one big debate around a table -- though there
it is, that table, looming, with chairs all around it and, yes, there are long
sections in which half the cast has its back to the audience. But it works.
There
are a number of gems among the solid ensemble members. Juror Four (Jeffrey
Hayenga) is
familiar, lanky, educated, logical, provides a counterpoint to Richard Thomas's
educated questioning man. Juror Three (Randle Mell) is the most angrily vocal of
the initial majority of jurors who are convinced of the defendant's
responsibility for the crime at the center of the trial. "You lousy
bleeding hearts, you're not going to intimidate me!" And Juror Nine (Alan
Mandell) is
fabulous as our reasoned, observant, quiet and wise older, and has some of the
play's best lines. For example, to our most belligerently bullying character he
says early on "It suddenly occurs to me that you must be an ignorant
man."
This
is a play about human nature and about the urban United States at a specific
historical time. This is also a general story about the legal concept of
"reasonable doubt" and the jury system and how a group of Americans
who have nothing else in common other than being white, male, American, and
legally obligated to serve represent this tradition. This is a play about a day
of American justice, a day in the courtroom and the jury room. This is not a
mystery story or in fact a story about the defendant in the trial. This is
masterfully crafted dialogue, delivered beautifully by a talented group of
actors who tell us a human, moving, and beautifully staged story.
Occasionally
I was surprised to hear "ahs" of shock at plot and character
developments, as I assumed the world knows the 1957 movie well. This reminder
of the joys to be found in experiencing this story for the first time led me to
hold back essential plotting details from this review - see the play to hear
the story. Yet I also realized while watching this that, regardless of whether
a person enters the theatre knowing the nuances of this story, the pacing of
this production and the clarity and grace of this script will overtake you.
Set
design by Allen Moyer is realistic and striking and powerful. Lighting by Paul Palazzo captures summer evening sun, the
nuances of a sudden thunder shower and other sights of lower Manhattan. Brian
Ronan's sound
design and original compositions by John Gromada resonate long after the curtain
comes down. Among the final sounds through the open jury room windows are
passing cars through the post rain shower wet pavement below. Stunning. 100
minutes of charm. A glimpse of history and a civics lesson at once. A human
story and a well told theatrical tale. Beautiful.