The Keegan Theatre’s production of ‘Of Mice and Men’
Where: The Church Street Theatre, 1742 Church St. NW
When: 8 p.m. Thursday to Saturday; 3 p.m. Sunday; through Nov. 29
Info: $25 to $30; 703-892-0202; keegantheatre.com
John Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men” is a tale of the precariousness of life among men who worked the land during the Great Depression.
In The Keegan Theatre’s production of Steinbeck’s script, director Kerry Waters Lucas creates an atmosphere that accurately reflects Northern California in 1937, employing familiar, Depression-era music to great effect. Eric Lucas’ set uses large, moveable wooden crates to suggest a bunkhouse and barn.
The dream of owning a small farm is shared by two unlikely friends: ranch hands George and Lennie, a gentle, slow-witted giant of a man totally dependent on George. In the Keegan production, Mark A. Rhea nicely captures George’s simultaneous frustration with and love for Lennie. Danny Gavigan is taking as the naive and trusting Lennie, who wants only to please George and achieve their dream.
When George and Lennie reach a ranch in Soledad, the place is peopled with a raggedy mix of sympathetic and antagonistic characters. K.J. Thorarinsson is commanding as the empathic Slim. Matt Boliek is touching as Candy, who wants to share George’s and Lennie’s fantasy farm.
Loneliness is a major theme in “Of Mice and Men” and one of Steinbeck’s most carefully etched characters is the black ranch hand Crooks, well-portrayed here by Paul Andrew Morton. Excluded from the bunkhouse and made to sleep in the barn, Crooks understands Lennie’s need for a companion. Lee Matthews is appropriately flighty and flirtatious as Curley’s unhappy wife.
But Steinbeck was writing a tragedy about a time and place where life was not just empty, but dangerous and unforgiving. The Boss (Colin Smith) is a mean-spirited employer. His son, Curley (John Keena), is a jealous man, always looking for a fight. Carlson (Kevin Adams) is an angry, vicious old farm hand. Together these three create an effective sense of menace, which continually threatens George and Lennie.
The outer shell of Steinbeck’s play is a quintessential tale of futility and bitterness. Keegan neatly illuminates another story embedded in that tale, one that suggests that dreams do temporarily transform the harsh landscape and, if only for a while, dispel the oppression of isolation.
