Sour Grapes

The theatrical version of John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, adapted by Frank Galati in late 1988, at 6th Street Playhouse was much heralded for its production; a river in the orchestra pit, a full size truck on stage, barn raisings/lowerings/setting on fire-ings – all of these things are appealing, after all, one of the great aspects of theatrical art is seeing something created there, done right in front of you, for anyone to watch and enjoy and experience live. However, while the production’s technical aspects certainly hit the right mark, the rest of the process (read: acting) was at times stagnant and uninteresting.

This is perhaps too unfair for the 30-plus ensemble that makes up the countryside from the dust bowl to California. In fact, the ensemble makes the show interesting when the scenes are creaking along like so many jalopies breaking down on the road to salvation. Tom Joad, our protagonist, played with a tremendous amount of dull by Brent Lindsay, obviously made a strong choice by playing very close and reserved, but the strength of it seems to disappear slightly when one can’t hear a word that comes out of his mouth. And the times that words are heard, they are strung together so fast that an eloquent speech about family becomes, “meagardagdarhbnrhadhs.” Insightful.

Chris Murphy dwarfs Lindsay in his portrayal of Grandpa Joad. His energy was intoxicating, but it looked as if he didn’t know what to do with it; everything he said was either shouted or muffled into his hands as his excitement grew about the trip. (It should be said, however, that his other character, the Man Who Gives Jobs To The Suckers Who Are Living In A Hooverville, is very quietly powerful.)

This is not to say that there aren’t some good performances in the cast. Ma and Pa Joad, played by Kate Brinkley and Dodds Delzell, respectively, give steadfast, simple, and elegant performances, keeping grounded when so many of the other performers drift off into the Somewhere Else. Dwayne Stincelli, as Uncle John also brings a touch of humanity to the show with his honest portrayal. And as stated before, much of the ensemble scenes are heartwarming and tragic; the simplicity sadness of living in this horrible time is apparent to everyone as they go through the motions of burying their loved ones (on stage, twice!) and try to survive.

It was hard not to pay more attention to the beautiful sets (designed by David Lear), sound and music (Jim Peterson) and costumes (Pamela Johnson) than the action going on upon, in, and around them. Indeed, the most interesting parts are the musical interludes where ensemble members/narrators come out and sing text and songs of the time. The show itself looks beautiful, now if only everyone else would come up to that level.


While Grapes of Wrath was not (by a long shot) a great show, the production values and the energy of the show is consistent, I can say fairly that I did not waste 2 and a half hours of my life, but unfortunately, 6th Street bit off more than it can chew.