Theater Review: OUR TOWN

Thornton Wilder's classic play "Our Town" has been performed literally countless times since its first staging in 1938. It's been produced on Broadway and Off-Broadway, in high-school and college auditoriums and local small theaters across the country, as well as across the globe. There are movie versions and audio recordings starring great actors and acting wannabes. I've seen it four times and I always cry at the end. Except for last night, when I saw it performed in a church in our little town of Freeport, by a cast of never-acted-before townspeople who just couldn't get me there.

Seeing a play done by non-actors gives you new respect for actors. First of all they remember their lines, which helps a lot; not so much with this crew. As for the directing, I was offended by the unorthodox between-acts musical interlude featuring two cast members singing songs popular in the  era of the story and inviting audience members to join in. To my horror, many of them did. This was a real shocker, breaking whatever magical spell might otherwise have been created. As opposed to the "legendary" 2009 Off-Broadway production by director David Cromer that is still revered in theater circles and always gives me chills whenever I recall it, which is quite often. 

There was one stand-out, however, a young man named Eric C. Smith who played the Stage Manager, which is basically saying he carried the play on his shoulders with lengthy, uninterrupted monologues from beginning to end. With no acting training or experience except for drama classes back in high school, Smith never missed a beat and was very convincing as someone living back in 1903. He should quit his day job immediately and get his name in lights somewhere.

As for the rest of the cast, oh well. Admitted amateurs, with most of them never acting in anything ever, they hurt the production considerably, although the play's main point still resonated throughout the small theater: Live for today for you too shall die. Not only live for today but drink in every moment, keep your eyes peeled for every nuance and pay close attention to other people, for someday you will be nothing but a mound of ashes in a pile of dirt. The biggest bummer is you can never go back.

That Wilder sure could drive a point home.