Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: Boston

Long Day's Journey Into Night
New Repertory Theatre


Lewis D. Wheeler, Karen MacDonald, Will Lyman and Nicholas Dillenburg
New Repertory Theatre offers up a taut, dramatic staging of the Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning American classic Long Day's Journey Into Night by Eugene O'Neill. Scott Edmiston directs Will Lyman and Karen MacDonald, two of Boston's finest artists, in the lead roles of James Tyrone and his wife Mary Cavan Tyrone. Lewis D. Wheeler (Jamie) and Nicholas Dillenburg (Edmund) play the Tyrone sons, with Melissa Baroni rounding out the cast as the Irish maid Cathleen. Throughout the nearly three and a half hour production, these five actors show great endurance and commitment to their characters, while giving performances of intensity and raw emotion.

Set in New London, Connecticut, in 1912, Long Day's Journey is a day (and night) in the life of the Tyrone family as they dredge up and face their demons, each in their own way. Paterfamilias James is full of bluster, a veteran actor and alcoholic who rues the day he took on a role that imprisoned him, even as he gained fame and fortune from it. Mary is emotionally fragile and visibly nervous. She became addicted to morphine following the birth of her younger son Edmund and resents being constantly under the watchful eyes of her men. Edmund is the representation of O'Neill, and his traits include artistic sensitivity and a propensity for suicide. His undiagnosed illness shadows him throughout the play and looms over the family like a curse. Older brother Jamie is also an actor, albeit debauched, who is hell bent on destroying himself with wild women and whiskey. As the only other woman in the house (besides the unseen cook), Cathleen is sometimes a sounding board for her mistress, and tends to be outspoken.

At the outset, the family focus is split between watching Mary for any cues that she is slipping back into her old ways some two months after her latest "cure," and awaiting news from the doctor about Edmund's condition. James and his namesake jockey for position in an ongoing conflict waged with a mix of righteous indignation and sarcastic sniping. With a heavy dose of sidelong glances and eye-rolling, the members of the family often communicate more truthfully by what they don't say to each other. Many of their conversations are filled with platitudes that reflect what they wish to be true, rather than the reality of the situation, as if speaking the truth would somehow make things worse.

Lyman is adept at inhabiting the proud father figure, the larger-than-life persona who fills the room whenever he enters. He and MacDonald have performed together so many times that their coupling appears effortless, but he is equally convincing in his scenes with Wheeler and Dillenburg. He shows the gruff, disgusted side of James with the former, and the more understanding, simpatico connection with the latter. Lyman's finest moments are those that are unspoken, when his eyes show the love, fear, anger, and deepest tragedies of Tyrone's life.

The play is primarily a chronicle of Mary's life and makes great demands of the actress in the part. As there are ups and downs on her roller-coaster ride, there are highs and lows in MacDonald's interpretation. Mary has one foot in the present and the other reliving her past, glorifying her youth as a convent girl with the opportunity to become either a nun or a concert pianist before she fell in love with Tyrone. She speaks bitterly about life on the road with him in "second-rate hotels," and the loneliness she felt when her husband preferred spending time in bars to being at home with the family. MacDonald captures the nostalgic glint in Mary's eye and the harsh tone that softens when she recalls the young love they shared. She conveys the nervousness and self-consciousness that Mary feels from being constantly observed with her trembling hands repeatedly touching her hair into place. As she sinks further into the fog of her addiction and retreats from reality, MacDonald seems less grounded in her portrayal and veers into Baby Jane territory.

As Mary is defined by her addiction, so Edmund is defined by his sickly condition, and this is a weak spot in Edmiston's direction. Dillenburg has spasms of coughing and slouches in his seat, but appears far too energetic throughout much of the play. That being said, Dillenburg is at his best in the final act when he rages at his father during their late night drunken heart-to-heart talk. He shares an easy fraternal connection with Wheeler, whose performance is the most consistent and riveting. Baroni provides a modicum of comic relief with her good character work as the cheeky Catherine.

Like his character in the play, Wheeler is a member of a theatrical family. His father David, a director and important figure in Boston theater history who died in January, was an assistant director on the original Broadway production of Long Day's Journey Into Night. Lewis dedicates his performance to his father and it is easy to see the impact of his highly charged emotions on his portrayal. Jamie is charming, but cynical and irresponsible; while he unabashedly admits his love for his kid brother, at the same time as he confesses a desire to ruin him. In an early scene with Lyman, Wheeler glares at him with disgust while he oozes self-loathing. His character is off-stage for most of the second act and his absence is palpable. When he returns, Wheeler joyrides through a range of sentiments, from drunk and exuberant, to crying and self-flagellation, to sober numbness.

Janie E. Howland's design for the Tyrone summer cottage is open and airy with only the suggestion of walls. The living room features whitewashed wide-plank flooring, an upstage dining area, a staircase to the unseen bedrooms and a door leading out to the porch. The mostly wicker furniture is white and Charles Schoonmaker's costume design follows the theme with neutral white and beige attire. When the men are going to meet with the doctor for Edmund's diagnosis, they telegraph the unfortunate news by changing into black or charcoal gray suits. The lighting design by Karen Perlow uses different colors on the backdrop and effectively casts shadows to delineate different times of this long day, and Dewey Dellay evokes the seaside setting with the sounds of fog horns and buoy bells.

O'Neill wrote this autobiographical play in 1940, but it was not published or produced until 1956, three years after his death. The claim that it is his masterwork notwithstanding, I found it difficult to sit through. Much as I bemoan the current crop of one-act plays that run a mere ninety to one hundred minutes without intermission, the fact remains that the modern audience is conditioned to a shorter attention span than in O'Neill's heyday. However, the length of the play is only one factor. More challenging is to observe the horribly bleak lives of the Tyrone family and absorb their anguish as one after the other relates the details of their road to ruin, alternately ascribing blame to the family tree or accepting responsibility for their own failings. I don't dispute O'Neill's brilliance in crafting and writing his story; on the contrary, he succeeds absolutely in conveying the weight of these experiences and the toll his upbringing took on him, but the relentless suffering leaves little, if any, room for hope at the end of the journey.

Long Day's Journey Into Night, performances through April 22 at New Repertory Theatre, In residence at the Arsenal Center for the Arts, Charles Mosesian Theater, 321 Arsenal Street, Watertown, MA; Box Office 617-923-8487 or www.newrep.org. Written by Eugene O'Neill, Directed by Scott Edmiston, Scenic Design by Janie E. Howland, Costume Design by Charles Schoonmaker, Lighting Design by Karen Perlow, Composer/Sound Design by Dewey Dellay, Properties Design by James Wilkinson; Production Stage Manager, Jayscott Crosley; Stage Manager, Phill Madore Cast (in alphabetical order): Melissa Baroni, Nicholas Dillenburg, Will Lyman, Karen MacDonald,


Photo: Andrew Brilliant/Brilliant Pictures

- Nancy Grossman