Playwright: Reginald Rose. At: Raven Theatre, 6157 N. Clark. Phone: 773-338-2177; $25-$30. Runs through: April 17
"We shouldn't make this into something personal" says one of the men sitting at the conference table where the fate of a teenage boy, accused of murdering his father, is being deliberated. But how can any human being, whether in a courthouse ( or a theater, for that matter ) ignore what they bring with them in terms of experience? Never has the fallacy of "objectivity" been more vividly illustrated than in Reginald Rose's locked-room dramanor its remedy, as, goaded by a lone dissenter, the 12 who will pass judgment pool their knowledge to arrive at a conclusion none of them could have foreseen.
This production being staged in 2010, the all-male jury mandated by the 1957 play's title displays hints of demographic diversityfour of the men are African-American, two Latino, one Asian, with their occupations a mix of professional, industrial and trade skills. The contrast between their respective social and economical backgrounds, however, is no less pronounced, and their attitudes toward the suspectwhose ethnicity is never specifiedeven more revealing. We may, as they do, fall into the trap of thinking we know this or that character's mind, only to be confronted by sudden outbursts of compassion, defiance or outright violence where we least suspect it.
The screenplay ( adapted from Rose's original television script ) comprising the text employed by Raven Theatre director Aaron Todd Douglas allows for considerable physical actione.g., reenactments of witness testimony ( including some tricky switchblade maneuvers ) to keep the stage picture always vibrant and mobile. The array of ensemble-sensitive talent on display likewise presents a carefully balanced vocal and visual portrait of urban America, ranging from C.L. Brown as the agnostic jurorsignificantly, an architect, interested in how things are assembledto Bryson Engelen as the effete stockbroker ( who, when asked "Don't you ever sweat?" calmly replies "No" ) to J.J. McCormick and Leonard Kraft as a pair of feisty old codgers. Dan Loftus and Reginald Vaughn, too, deserve hardship pay for their fearless portrayals of personalities proclaiming repugnant sentiments ( the worst of them, fortunately, delivered upstage ) to unnerve even trained actors.
The heroes of crime stories nowadayswhether fictional or actualare most often lawyers or police, authority figures being more attractive to mainstream audiences. But this glimpse of our judicial system from half a century ago serves to remind us of the power invested in a jury of peerssomething to think about next time you're called for duty.