The reviews are in for our production of the Steinbeck classic tale of Dustbowl Depressives. They are, as they say, "mixed-to-good," with only one real pan, which ironically, is being quoted in our ads. And even that poor response, from the Washington Times which nobody in the arts reads anyway, has done what every other critic in town and in cyberspace has done, which is rave about the performances.
And for the actors, that's a good thing.
The money review, The Post, was pretty much a rave, with the critic singling out each and every actor in the play. Except me. But I'm not bitter. I'd rather be ignored than panned.
No such luck for me in this online review, though I have to thank the critic for at least mentioning that I was really really good in something else. But, "out of his range" in this one. I don't dispute that for a moment.
And the reviewer hit the nail on the head when he claimed Christopher Lane is giving a "towering performance " as the gentle giant, Lennie. He is. Take a gander at this snap from the moment in the play which Aristotle would call the climax: the moment after which the ending becomes inevitable.
(That's Chris Lane towering center stage).
Of the various other reviews out there, my favorite has to be from the Citypaper, whose critic was attentive enough to catch the very subtle twist I have been giving my role of "Whit." Hey, the role is written for a kid in his 20s, and since those days are long gone for me, I had to do something to make "Whit" my own...