As the Milwaukee Repertory Theater dove into the holiday season with its perennial moneymaker, A Christmas Carol, it also sought another heartwarming alternative. So it turned to the chestnut, Harvey, a 1944 play that won a Pulitzer Prize for playwright Mary Chase.
In Milwaukee, Harvey performs “right across the atrium,” so to speak, from Carol, which plays in the glorious Victorian opulence of the Pabst Theater. Like the Dickens work, Harvey recreates another time and another world. It was written before the end of World War II, a time of much sorrow for families who lost a loved one. Chase wrote the play to create some joy and laughter for these families, and it has been embraced by other generations, as well. Then and now, Harvey carries a strong message about family, love and acceptance.
“Harvey” is the name of an invisible, six-foot-tall rabbit, conjured by a middle-aged bachelor named Elwood P. Dowd. It seems Elwood has always been somewhat eccentric, but “Harvey” is too much for his family to swallow. Elwood “introduces” Harvey to everyone he meets. He carries on conversations with Harvey and asks people to “step out of the way” to make room for the unseen rabbit. This behavior drives his sister and niece to distraction, as they see friends and relatives slip away. Completely convinced that they cannot lead “normal” lives with Elwood in the house, they attempt to commit him to a sanitarium.
Some of the play’s best scenes happen here. As Veta attempts to commit Elwood, the playwright turns the tables. It is Veta, not Elwood, who is at first thought to be a “crackpot” by the resident staff. The playwright’s message comes through strong and clear: Who is really sane? Is it the sweet, gentle and gentlemanly Elwood, or his easily agitated sister, Veta?
Older audience members will easily recall the James Stewart played Elwood in the 1950 film. Several versions were also made for TV, including a 1958 film starring Art Carney as Elwood. The most famous line from the play is probably this one, in which Elwood says, “(My mother told me): `In this world, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.’ Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.” In the Milwaukee version, under the able direction of KJ Sanchez, none of the play’s sweetness has been compromised. Jonathan Gillard Daly gives a first-rate performance as Elwood. Without exaggerating his differences, he still manages to convincingly antagonize his sister, Veta (Deborah Staples) and her daughter, Myrtle Mae (Kristina Loy). While Staples is at her comic best as Veta, she is typically upstaged by Loy as the bratty, loud-mouthed Myrtle Mae. To draw even more attention to Myrtle, costume designer Rachel Healy has created an intentionally hideous wardrobe for her. Myrtle shares her mother’s distaste for Elwood. “People get run over by trucks every day,” she announces. “Why can’t that happen to Uncle Elwood?”
The production is also graced by stunning production values, highlighted by its revolving set. Elwood’s gracious family home is on one side, and the white, sterile sanitarium is on the other. The set is meticulously recreated in every detail. Likewise, the lighting further accentuates the differences between the two worlds: there’s a warm, rosy glow in the home and a glaring atmosphere in the sanitarium.
Despite all its positive attributes, Harvey shows its age, both in its style and its content. The dialogue often seems forced. Also, the sudden arrival of a surly cab driver near the play’s end (in a nicely done performance by Chris O’Reilly) is far too contrived for modern audiences. It is the cab driver – not the psychiatrists (led by Milwaukee favorite James Pickering), or the family’s lawyer (an equally beloved Richard Halverson) – who eventually brings Veta to her senses.
As a result, Harvey is quality, family-oriented entertainment that may be better suited to Grandma than to younger members of the family.
