Our Town: Jim Parsons and cast – Photo: Daniel Rader
By now, we’ve heard the lesson: Screentime is killing us. It’s made us less communicative with each other, more easily distracted, and more reliant on apps, maps, texts, tweets, posts, pokes, likes, loves, gifs, memes, and emojis of every type except the ones on real, live human faces.
TV shows, films, and theater have long spread these themes through much of their content, and when the world halted in 2020, storylines incorporating these themes of disconnection became even more potent and pervasive. It looks like Babs was right: People who need people really are the luckiest people in the world.
Yet it wasn’t the last 25 years of media, a global pandemic, nor even our favorite diva, Barbra Streisand, to remind us of the need for precious interwoven humanity. Long before they came along, we had playwright and novelist Thornton Wilder.
In 1938, his play Our Town premiered, first in Boston and later on Broadway, where it earned a Pulitzer Prize. Since then, numerous Broadway revivals have been mounted, and it has become a favorite option for schools, colleges, and community theaters around the world.
Currently, Kenny Leon and his gifted creative team have infused fresh life into the timeless story of small-town America in a Broadway revival starring Jim Parsons and a stellar cast of actors.
Not much happens in the fictional town of Grover’s Corners, a small enclave in New Hampshire “just across the Massachusetts line.” Parsons plays the nameless, everyman stage manager and serves as the town’s guide. Before introducing us to Dr. Webb (Billy Eugene Jones), his wife (Michelle Wilson), newspaper editor Mr. Webb (Richard Thomas), his wife (Katie Holmes), and both of their families, he gives us the layout of Grover’s Corners, finishing his description with “Nice town, y ‘know what I mean? Nobody very remarkable ever come out of it, s’far as we know.”
As Wilder intended, Parsons breaks the fourth wall, addressing both the audience and the inhabitants of this village. With a mere population of 2,640, according to Professor Willard (Shyla Lefner), it stands to reason that everyone knows one another. (Surprisingly for a small place, Our Town — with a cast of 27 — boasts one of the largest ensembles currently in a Broadway play).
Our Town: Jim Parsons, Sky Smith and John McGinty – Photo: Daniel Rader
Three acts comprise Our Town: “Everyday Life,” “Romance and Marriage,” and “Death and the Afterlife,” and we are told when the acts begin and end. Constantly, we’re made aware of the fact that we are watching a play, but it’s as though Wilder borrowed a page from Shakespeare’s notion that “all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
In this production — as in other stagings — the set is minimal, and there are few props. Wilder’s original intent was to “restore significance to the small details of life by removing the scenery. The spectator through lending his imagination to the action restages it inside his own head. In its healthiest ages, the theatre has always exhibited the least scenery.”
Sparse though it may be, Beowulf Boritt’s set, with its rustic walls and vintage hanging lanterns that softly illuminate the theater, is calm and contemplative, setting the tone for the entire show. It is a gentle and humbling reminder that Grover’s Corners is exactly like our own microcosmic communities: vital, but minute, under a sea of stars.
Our Town is a true ensemble piece. There is quiet restraint in all the cast’s actions and a stoic demeanor that suggests they will weather any storm that life throws their way. And although we are told that the story takes place in 1901, Leon throws in contemporary songs and opens the show with some cast members taking selfies of themselves. He’s also diversified this small town. These elements bring a modernity that cause us to see our own lives and communities.
Our Town is not the most dramatic work ever written — nor is this production. It isn’t supposed to be. Instead, it’s a reflection of common people doing common activities, living lives to the best of their abilities, and facing the challenges with a level-headed reality.
Towards the end, Emily Webb (Zoey Deutch) says, “Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? – every, every minute?”
Perhaps that realization is often ignored or lost. What is not lost and fully realized is this stunning production that should make us grateful for the gifts of live theater and the people we most value — if only we’d look up from our phones.
Our Town (★★★★★) plays through Jan. 19, 2025, on Broadway at the Barrymore Theatre, 243 West 47th St. Tickets are $74 to $321. Visit www.ourtownbroadway.com.
Her parents call her Vivian, but she won't stand for anyone else calling her that. She's Twinkie, a 17-year-old, self-described "master of sarcasm" just poking her head out of the closet in writer-director Sarah Kambe Holland's engaging autobiographical debut feature, Egghead & Twinkie.
Based on Holland's eponymous 2019 short, the feature re-teams Sabrina Jie-A-Fa as baby dyke Twinkie and Louis Tomeo as straight dude Egghead, Twinkie's best friend since fourth grade, when his family moved in across the street.
Now the pair are wading into their last summer together in the Florida burbs before Egghead heads to Stanford to study engineering, leaving Twinkie at home still figuring herself out. She's already figured out that she doesn't want to be like her conservative, yet separated, adoptive Mom (Kelley Mauro) and Dad (J. Scott Browning).
It can't be easy to write a play that successfully cries out to the world "Look what happened here! Understand!" Many fall way too hard on the side of over-explaining, feeding the drama with fiction-busting expository and presenting their characters as either heroes or villains to make every point crystal clear.
Their hearts may be in the right place, but they so woefully underestimate their audience that they lose it. The truth is, everyone who has made it to adulthood knows that life is messy and that even the "good guys" stumble and struggle. The plays that can deliver their message amid this human ambiguity are the powerhouses in this tradition, playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins being a prime example.
Last seen onstage at Theater J putting a tender comic stamp on the remarkable Ruth K. Westheimer in Becoming Dr. Ruth, Naomi Jacobson displays impressive range portraying a very different feisty older lady in José Rivera's thought-provoking Your Name Means Dream.
Rivera -- noted for plays Marisol and Cloud Tectonics, and his Academy Award-nominated screenplay for The Motorcycle Diaries -- directs the sci-fi drama exploring the relationship between Jacobson's 74-year-old spitfire Aislin and her AI service robot Stacy, played by Sara Koviak.
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