Our Town has been touted as "The Great American Play." It show us not only what our country is but also what our country used to be. We used to have neighbors, not just people who lived near us. There was a politeness, a respect for each other. I remember my parents calling people they'd known for quite awhile Mr. or Mrs. or Dr. And children never called adults by their first names ever.
In this production, we get that. But there's something missing, and as a former New Englander, I know what it is. We're told that the setting is Grover's Corners, New Hampshire, for a reason. In the Northeastern part of this country, there's a certain chill in the air that's universal. Katie Holmes, as Mrs. Webb, is altogether too warm, too sweet. When her daughter, Emily (Zoey Deutch) describes a recent speech she made at school like silk off a spool, this shouldn't be cause for praise. We don't brag in New Hampshire.
But there is cause for youthful exuberance, especially in the case of George Gibbs. The only problem is that Ephraim Sykes is such a fine actor, we find ourselves lamenting the knowledge that he will never leave his hometown, never go off to college, never have any of the adventures that might await him. In turn, we do begin to resent Emily. If she really loved George, wouldn't she encourage him to spread his wings before settling down?
Richard Thomas is, as always, excellent as Mr. Webb, the backbone of the only town newspaper. We have to wonder what keeps him so involved, so dedicated.
The focus of the evening is Jim Parsons as the Stage Manager. He's such a beloved and recognizable TV star as Sheldon Cooper on "The Big Bang Theory," it takes us a moment to adjust to him being restrained and somber, leading us through the town, introducing us to the characters. He shows no emotion even when taking us to the graveyard, even though we feel like crying.
A word of praise must be said for the interracial casting. Yes, we know that the Gibbs and the Webb families wouldn't have been neighbors, but here, it works seamlessly. This is due to the brilliance of the cast, the flawless direction, and the perfection of the scenic design.
I didn't appreciate this production’s hymn at the end. If anything, it just pointed out that there are no Jews or Moslems here, and very likely never will be. But that gripe aside, Grover's Corners seems like a nice place to be from. I'd just rather live in NewYork.
