Old-fashioned in the best sense, Free and Clear typifies the major theme of realistic American drama in the middle of the 20th century. It centers on family relationships. Those between father and sons dominate here, followed closely by mothers with sons. Inter-generational problems stem from the relations between the parents, particularly due to their differing backgrounds and their aspirations for themselves and their boys.
Sounds abstract? Not as embodied by the 1940 Westchester, New York family recreated by Robert Anderson.
The play begins with a reunion. Home for the yearly celebration of their mother Sarah's birthday, Jack and younger brother Larry look toward very different futures. Harvard alum Jack plans to quit the law he went into to satisfy his father's demands, to divorce his wife (who's just miscarried), and to strike out for an unstructured year to find himself. Having just gotten his M.A. and won a prestigious story contest, Larry plans to marry ten-years-older Susan, a successful professional he's begun living with. They're to go to the west coast where he can part-time study and teach, making enough money and time to devote to writing. Neither of the brothers, then, will fulfill their parents' expectations. In view of what they did despite hardships, obstacles they had to overcome, compromises they made (which they both reiterate and newly reveal), don't their children owe them compliance? On the other hand, why should the boys be miserable, forced into careers and marriages that will give meaning to and signify the success of their parents' lives? Their father believes the "strongest bond is always with your family," something John "never had" but was worth a "life of sacrifice. "
Sarah, who gave up teaching and devoted herself to motherhood and homemaking, tells Larry, her obvious favorite, "My education fed into your lives...The creation of a child like you is not a waste." Sarah remarks that, "when the children are gone and the dog is dead [their Laddie, incidentally, is about to be buried], you're supposed to be free." But John has insisted on an imposing house so the sons will have a home to keep returning to, and Sarah tries to interest Larry in local women. The crisis comes when the sons ask for financial help, each to follow his own dreams, and John responds with conditions.
Whether attempting sly control or starving for affection, Polly Holiday is wonderfully authentic as conflicted Sarah. No less impressive, John Kritch gleans good qualities out from the father's many obsessive ones and keeps interest in his (perhaps too-often-repeated) stories of hardships. Bryant Mason makes Jack's frustrations so keenly felt that violence seems inevitable, with or without accompanying drinking. Not completely free of his father's faults, he is more likeable. As budding author Larry, who has not only inherited his mother's esthetic tastes but also looks like her, Bryan Barter finely melds at-odds emotions and loyalties.
Director Eberle Thomas could not have assembled a better cast nor approved better costumes, scenery, and lighting. They absolutely define certain people on the wicker-furnished porch of a certain house (even showing its kitchen icebox) in its regional and historical context. As an example of dramatic realism, the play is a bit indulgent in the amount of exposition unfolded as the brothers first meet. After all, they do so yearly for their mother's birthday and surely wouldn't need to go on and on about how they were unalike and treated differently growing up. (Throughout, their father repeats a lot, too, about his earlier hardships, but doing so is part of his very fiber.)
A troubling, if minor, detail: Why would Larry need money for tuition if he has a university assistantship or even if he's part-time faculty? Isn't and wasn't tuition usually the main perk for the lowly stipends given such teachers? (Maybe he should need to borrow to pay fees or buy books or transportation, which can add up, though probably not as much in the 1940s as today.) A major plus: literate dialogue!
