Playwright: Ronald Harwood
At: Steppenwolf Theatre,
1650 N. Halsted St.
Phone: (312) 335-1650; $38-$60
Runs through: Nov. 14
Yes, we had our Big Event of September 2001. But for dwellers on the eastern coast of England during the wars in Europe, the experience of being attacked in their very homes—not once, but repeatedly over a period of months—was a very real source of anxiety bordering on despair, a weapon more devastating than artillery or enemy aircraft.
Answering his country's call is an aging actor, known to his subordinates only as 'Sir'. With a company comprised of actors too young, too old, or too infirm for military service, his morale-raising tour of The Provinces presents Shakespeare amid the wail of air-raid sirens and explosions of Luftwaffe shells just outside their playhouses. But now crisis looms more severe than buzzbombs or their business manager's arrest for deeds connected with his homosexuality (still as illegal in 1942 as when Oscar Wilde was busted): Sir has been behaving eccentrically lately, and his comrades fear for his sanity. All that stands between them and unemployment is Norman, Sir's valet, confidante, bodyguard and nanny.
Since its premiere in 1980, interpretations of this play tend to hammer home the father-son dynamic—reflected in that of King Lear and his Fool—with Sir visualized as a leonine giant roaring against the dying of the light, and Norman, a ferretlike imp slyly cosseting, cajoling, and secretly cursing his charge. But Steppenwolf director Amy Morton heightens the dramatic tension by deliberately casting against physical type. From his first entrance, John Mahoney suggests, through stance and expression, a man smaller and wearier than himself. While Tracy Letts, his physique reminiscent of WPA-murals, allows us to perceive the strength and fury underlying Norman's limp-wristed effacement.
It's not just a two-character show, however. Ample support is forthcoming from Peggy Roeder as the company's stage manager, and Mary Beth Fisher as its leading lady, both of whom have dedicated their lives to their art and to the unappreciative Sir. Likewise Jeff Still as a sullen player foreshadowing the post-war Angry Young Playwrights, Linsey Page Morton as an ambitious nymphet, and Mike Nussbaum as an old trouper sensing new opportunities in the scarcity of able-bodied thespians. The show must go on, you know.