Review: The Grapes of Wrath by Zach Theatre
by Michael Meigs
A brooding orange light dominates the empty central space at the Zach Theatre's Kleberg Stage. A haze roils fitfully against a panorama of emptiness. A man in overalls, wearing a slouch cap and heavy work boots, holds a saw between his knees. He gently applies a bow to it, bends the saw, and an eerie, keening melody begins The Grapes of Wrath.
John Steinbeck's story follows the Joad family from the 1930s Oklahoma Dustbowl, driven by implacable weather and unforgiving bankers to abandon everything except a grim hope of finding work and land in California.
Many of us were obliged to read the novel when we were young, perhaps too young to understand it . Zach director Dave Steakley opens his commentary in the program, "I did not have to read The Grapes of Wrath in high school. . . ."
Steinbeck was impassioned by the miseries suffered by migrants to California. In 1936 he had written seven articles for a San Francisco newspaper detailing their living conditions, violence carried out against them and exploitation by landowners and hustlers. Those pieces were accompanied by photos taken by Dorothea Lange, one famous image of which is the model for the Zach's poster. In 1937 Steinbeck was incensed by violence against lettuce pickers. He wrote a lengthy satirical narrative that he decided to destroy rather than delivering it to his publisher. "I'm trying to write history while it's happening and I don't want to get it wrong."
John Steinbeck wrote his huge, complex novel in scarcely more than a hundred days. It is no easy read. The author acknowledged afterward that he had constructed it with five layers of discourse, and he furiously insisted on retaining elements and most language that his editor found shocking. "I've done my damnedest to rip a reader's nerves to rags."
Steppenwolf Theatre's Frank Galati deftly deconstructed the novel in 1988 and made it a highly effective play, first in Chicago and later on Broadway, where it won two Tony awards. The text and dialogue in The Grapes of Wrath as presented then, and now at the Zach Scott, is almost entirely verbatim from Steinbeck's text. In the novel, Okie dialogue often seems shallow and illiterate because it is stacked against Steinbeck's erudite but turgid prose. On stage, however, it plays wonderfully.
The story is gripping. In the theatre it is unburdened by the grim omniscience of Steinbeck's overlay and so allows us to identify with the Joad family and to hope for them even as they pass under the millstone of history.
Family solidarity, moments of peace and grace, small victories, and above all, the unbending resilience of the women in the family are the keys to this piece, even as the menfolk struggle to provide. Old folk die, struck down by hardship and heartbreak. Young bride Rose of Sharon cherishes the thought of her coming baby and the dream of a house and happy future in California.
Ma Joad is the soul who holds these people together, and in that role Janelle Buchanan is magnificent. At the unexpected return of her son Tom from prison, just as the family prepares to load the truck and abandon Oklahoma, she is speechless, the embodiment of all overwhelmed motherhood. And in the closing scenes she deals with catastrophe, disappearances, and death with the silent, unsurprised efficiency of a survivor.
The Joads collect themselves and fellow travelers along the way, including Jim Casey, a thoughtful and loquacious man who was once a preacher but now in the face of disaster and human impulses has lost his faith. Their caravan struggles westward and reaches the Colorado River; with ingenuity and theatrical magic we see that river before us and understand the attraction of it. Along the way the Joads and their companions are hassled by deputy sheriffs and campground owners. They arrive in California only to find themselves stuck in a "Hooverville" ghetto where mendacious farm owners exploit them.
A government-operated refuge sustains them for a time, but they must travel to find work as fruit pickers. Worker strikes lead to violence, trapping both Jim Casey and young Tom Joad. Rain from the heavens comes with a further rain of catastrophes.
Though the arc of the story is downward, the tone is surprisingly light, particularly in the first half. Musical interludes include traditional songs, a square dance, and spirituals.
Sarah Gay's beautiful soprano voice features strongly, but many other members of the cast sing or play instruments well.
Director Dave Steakley makes the most of the intriguing open space of the Kleberg stage. The lighting by Jason Amato is hypnotic.
Steakley has chosen an attractive and talented cast. Most play multiple roles.
Especially impressive is Jarret Mallon, who transforms himself from the handicapped older son Noah, simple and yearning, to a destroyed returnee from California (right). He reluctantly tells the family of the dangers awaiting and then relives in front of us the deaths of his wife and two children. Later he appears as an indignant Hooverville resident whose denunciation of an unscrupulous recruiter prompts a confrontation and scuffle sure to be revenged by the authorities.
Marc Pouhé has great stature and depth as ex-preacher Jim Casey. His delivery of Casey's troubled meditations over dinner and at a burial are moving, while his happy involvement with the caravan and his excitement over the workers' strike have an infectious glee. There's a lovely moment as he joins in the family's traveling song, singing in a fine baritone while walking his fingers along a stretch of rope and ruffling the hair of the children.
The men in the family seek within themselves the sins that may have called forth the terrible swift sword of retribution. Pa Joad (Harvey Guion) blames himself for son Noah's incapacity and the awkward Uncle John (Paul Mitchell Wright) begs to confess his failings to Casey and to other family members.
Ma Joad refuses such simple explanations and the youngest in the family turn their faces to the future. Tom (David Christopher) vows to become the spirit of resistance and his younger brother Al (Zach Thompson) chooses a wife in the migrant camp. And the fragile Rose of Sharon (Xochitl Romero) in the final, exquisite, terrifying tableau, as in a pietà portrays the sublime spirituality and the condemned animal nature of humanity.
This is a tough story, acted with grace and conviction, giving a vision of a tumultuous time in American history.
= =
A postscript: It's unfortunate that the program for The Grapes of Wrath does not list or credit the music used in the program. (See NOTE, below) Granted, much of it is traditional or out of copyright. But, for example, history has recorded the names of the authors of "Pass Me Not, Gentle Savior" and "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." (Click titles for Zach's streaming audio of Sarah Gay's renditions.) Although I thought that the defiantly upbeat "Pastures of Plenty" did not exactly fit in the first half of the piece, composer Woody Guthrie deserved a mention. (Woody appears in the video that plays in the Zach lobby, and my wife was surprised to find that one middle-aged woman had no idea who he was.)
In that connection, an anecdote: Guthrie was in New York in 1940 when the film The Grapes of Wrath with Henry Fonda came out, and he was delighted by it. In scribblings for The People's World newspaper, he wrote,
Seen the pitcher last night, Grapes of Wrath, best cussed pitcher I ever seen.
The Grapes of Wrath, you know is about us pullin' out of Oklahoma and Arkansas, and down south, and a driftin' around over state of California, busted, disgusted, down and out, and a lookin' for work.
Shows you how come us to be that a way. Shows the dam bankers men that broke us and the dust that choked us, and comes right out in plain old English and says what to do about it.
It says you got to get together and have some meetins, and stick together, and raise old billy hell till you get youre job, and get your farm back, and your house and your chickens and your groceries and your clothes, and your money back.
Go to see Grapes of Wrath, pardner, go to see it and don't miss.
You was the star in that picture. Go and see your own self and hear your own words and your own song.
Subsequently, Guthrie wrote the ballad "Tom Joad," which compresses the story pretty handily into just 17 verses.
Photo Galley: 84 production stills by Kirk Tuck, updated April 13
= = = = =
Review by Jeanne Claire van Ryzin in the Statesman's Austin360 "Seeing Things" blog, March 22
Review by Robert Faires in the Austin Chronicle of March 26
Review by Ryan E. Johnson on Austin.com, April 10
KUT-FM's John Aielli interviews director Dave Steakley, actors and musicians; with scenes and music, April 13 (38min 30 sec)
Review by Travis Bedard of Cambiare Productions, May 10
= = = = =
NOTE: The Zach Theatre posted in its Daily Blog of March 26 the titles, composers, performance credits and audio of six of the musical pieces used in The Grapes of Wrath.
VIDEO CLIPS from GRAPES of WRATH, posted on YouTube by Zach Theatre on May 8 (5min 22 sec)
EXTRA: cast and staff pages from the program of the Grapes of Wrath
The Grapes of Wrath
by Frank Galati from John Steinbeck's novel
Zach Theatre
