Review: Our Town

Review of the Saturday, November 9, 2024 matinee performance at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre in New York City. Starring Jim Parsons, Zoey Deutch, Katie Holmes, Billy Eugene Jones, Ephraim Sykes, Richard Thomas, Michelle Wilson, Julie Halston and Donald Webber, Jr.  Written by Thornton Wilder. Scenic design by Beowulf Boritt. Costume design by Dede Ayite and Audrey Peterson. Lighting design by Allen Lee Hughes. Sound design by Justin Ellington. Direction by Kenny Leon. 1 hour, 50 minutes with no intermission.

Perhaps I went into Our Town with unrealistic expectations. The Thornton Wilder classic is one of my favorites; I've seen it several times, performed scenes from it in high school and college, and studied the text as well. Also, after his exhilarating production of Purlie Victorious, I couldn't wait to see what Kenny Leon would bring to this venerable classic. Boy, I was disappointed. For all of its "for our generation" hype, it was flat and boring. Worse yet, the cast looked as bored as I was. This revival committed what I consider the very worst of theatrical sins: it left me feeling nothing at all. Not bad enough to hate, not daring enough to be even the tiniest bit intrigued, and even the decent parts weren't worth giving much of a second thought.

First, what worked for me offers little surprise. Beowulf Boritt's set design was exactly what the play needed, no more, no less, though the Act 3 setting was nicely revealed and rendered. Similarly, Allen Lee Hughes' moody area lighting fit the nebulous nature of the work's requirements; the lanterns that hung over the stage in reaching up into the balcony were lovely, serving as guiding lights, stars, and whatever other momentary need there was. 

As far as the actors go, there were four absolute standouts: the mothers and central children of the piece. As Mrs. Gibbs, the doctor's wife and icon of housewivery, Michelle Williams brought the energy up every time she entered, and Katie Holmes does some heavy lifting with the built in mundanity of her role. Both did what I think Wilder expected by giving subtext and gravitas to their line readings. As George Gibbs, awkward teenager/mature man before his time, Ephraim Sykes also lifted the whole thing out of its self-inflicted doldrums with each speech, gesture and movement, while Zoey Deutch as Emily Webb, the confident, smart young woman and object of George's affections, burst open each scene she was in, too. And when the two of them were together, their chemistry wrapped over the audience like a warm blanket. All four actors come the closest to what I think Mr. Leon was going for - characters that are both of their time (1901) and of our time (2024). I can't even put my finger on how exactly they did that, but you could sense it nonetheless.

Considerably less effective were the costume designs of Dede Ayite. Though it is obvious (too obvious) that she was trying to convey the "then is now" directive of the production, what appeared on stage was such an inconsistent hodgepodge of styles and eras that it took you out of the scenes it was so jarring. Little House on the Prairie dresses for some, canvas bodices and short shorts/skirts for others. Some looking like they were part of a forgotten revival of The Music Man, with still others dressed for office work in the 1970s and 80s. One of the "ladies of a certain age" came to the wedding dressed like a community theater Joanne from Company. And the milkman was in what appeared to be a denim onesie and combat boots! I heard more than one patron discussing it as we were leaving, "Were the costumes confusing, or was it me?" No, ma'am, it wasn't you. 

Then there were the actors. Some were completely wasted: Jim Parsons, who I adore, it pains me to say, was not good. Sure he knew his many lines, but he played the Stage Manager as a bearded Sheldon Cooper, same gesticulating and quirky affectations and all. Richard Thomas brought nothing to his role as Mr. Webb. Not even at the funeral for his daughter did he seem even mildly upset. The usually funny and smart Julie Halston was ridiculous stereotype who seemed like she was pushing for laughs. Not that I can blame her - anything for a response. Others were shockingly amateurish. Billy Eugene Jones, as the perpetually exhausted Dr. Gibbs, gave line readings you'd expect from a high school kid reading the play aloud in English class. And if other characters on stage hadn't gossiped about it, you'd never know Donald Webber, Jr.'s Simon Stimson was the town drunk. I mean there's hiding it, and there's not playing it at all. Is it a good thing when the rest of the townspeople - representations of all types of day-to-day folks - were so nondescript as to be virtually meaningless?

I thought this might be the first show in years I've been to that didn't get a standing ovation, but of course, someone stood and slowly everyone was on their feet. The applause, however, did not match the ovation, so at least there's that. I did not stand, and the lady next to me, who had been audibly sobbing at the end, gave me some serious stink eye, as if to say, "what is wrong with you??" To each their own.

📸: D. Rader