|
Tuesdays with Morrie
February 28 to March 12, 2006
Broadway In Chicago
www.broadwayinchicago.com
At
The Cadillac Palace Theater
www.theatreinchicago.com
151 West Randolph Street
Chicago, Illinois 60602
312.902.1400
Arnold Mittelman: Artistic Director
Michael Montel: Director
By
Mitch Albom & Jeffrey Hatcher
Starring:
Harold Gould & Dominic Fumusa
Scenic Design: Michael Anania
Costume Design: Ellis Tillman
Lighting Design: Brian D. Nason
Musical Supervision: Lawrence Yurman
Sound Design: Steve Shapiro
Production Stage Manager: Warren Crane
Assistant Stage Manager: Arienne Pelletier
Casting: Vince Liebhart Casting
General Manager: Alexander Morr
Publicity: Ted Boles
Janine’s Voice: Brigid Brady
Susan Weinrebe
February 28, 2006
Pssst. Want to hear a four-letter word? D-e-a-t-h! OK. I lied about the number of letters. But it’s still a dirty word to most people, except Morrie Schwartz, the namesake of the play’s title.
Weekly meetings with Morrie, Mitch Albom’s mentor from his days at Brandeis University, are a double-edged sword. Morrie is dying of ALS, Lou Gherig’s Disease, and as the visits progress, so does his physical deterioration. With the twin millstones of guilt and regret over past emotional reticence grinding at Mitch, Morrie teaches his favorite student some final lessons about living until one dies.
The story of a dying old man and the student returning for last-minute pearls of wisdom and exculpation could make Albom’s story an uncomfortably maudlin reminiscence. That is not however to say, that it would be commercially unpopular. Indeed, the book has been on the USA Today Best Seller list for over six years!
Rather, the 100-minute play is tender, funny and yes, touching. Morrie, known to dance by himself like the joyously uninhibited Zorba the Greek, doesn't withhold his tears, humor, wisdom, or his need to feel the human touch, what he calls, “extra credit,” from his apt pupil.
Harold Gould, venerable in his craft, plays Morrie with just enough everything. There is just enough New York accent. His laughter is not too hearty, nor are his tears too copious. As Morrie declines, the physical changes are subtle: his posture suggests growing weakness, hands contort slightly, and the phlegm that will eventually suffocate him, clouds his breathing. Mr. Gould has a naturally sweet expression about his eyes. He uses them the way a coquette flirts, except as Morrie, he is wooing his erstwhile pupil, beguiling Mitchell into “…learning how to live.”
Dominic Fumusa masters the challenge of being the foil for an adorable, terminally ill parent figure. He knows how to be still when necessary and how to act like he’s really listening. Mr. Fumusa lends enough physicality to a part that is at least half monologue, to be the proper foil for Morrie who is gradually losing his ability to move at all.
In the end, Morrie and Mitchell model the tenderness and grace of which we are all capable. Mitchell allows himself to be taught and learns the last lesson his beloved teacher can impart before dying.
At curtain call, the audience gave a standing ovation to Gould and Fumusa. If the actors heard the sound of crying, it must have been gratifying to know they struck a like chord in each person who stood and freely wept.
L-R Dominic Fumusa and Harold Gould in TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE
Photo courtesy of George Shaivone
Standing Dominic Fumusa and seated Harold Gould in TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE
Photo courtesy of George Shaivone
|
