Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: San Francisco

Of Mice and Men
Cinnabar Theater
Review by Patrick Thomas

Also see Patrick's review of The Book of Matthew (Leibowitz)


Kevin Thomas Singer, Samson Hood, Tim Kniffin
and James Gagarin

Like a marriage, staging a masterpiece such as Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men" comes with both benefits and burdens. This classic is revered for a reason—its gripping story, fascinating characters, and natural and authentic dialogue have been beguiling readers and audiences ever since the novella (Steinbeck described it as a "play-novelette") was published in 1937. Its star has never faded. It was a Book of the Month club selection before it was published and today is in previews on Broadway with James Franco as George. Although it's faced censorship for its use of offensive terminology, sexual overtones and supposed anti-capitalist leanings, it's still widely taught and regularly performed.

But there is also the burden: the responsibility to take the world the playwright has created and breathe life into it, and reveal its wonders to us. To do justice to his imagination. If the folks at Cinnabar Arts take this responsibility seriously (and I believe they do), they can close their eyes at night without guilt, for they have done quite excellently by Mr. Steinbeck's classic American melodrama.

Of Mice and Men tells the story of George and Lennie, two friends, itinerant ranch hands in Depression-era California. With their bundles on their backs, they are making their way from a job in the very north end of the state (which they left on significantly less-than-pleasant terms) to a new assignment near Soledad, in the Salinas Valley. While George is savvy and wise in the ways of the world, Lennie is the opposite, a naïf, a child who wants nothing more than to find soft things to stroke and pet and care for. But since Lennie is a child living in a very large and strong man's body, his lack of impulse control and inability to modulate his might can have tragic consequences. In fact, when we first meet, he's stroking a mouse he's killed by petting it too hard. (The mouse won't be the last creature to die, rest assured.)

When Lennie and George arrive at the bunkhouse of the ranch where they'll be working (in Joe Elwick's wonderfully rustic and ramshackle set), it's clear life hasn't gotten any easier. The Boss is standoffish and suspicious, and his son, Curley, is worse, a paranoid man of small stature with a tendency to overcompensate by picking fights. But is it paranoia when there is justification for your suspicions? Curley's new wife is quite the flirt and is regularly dropping by the bunkhouse to ruffle her skirt.

Not surprisingly, Lennie wants to leave. "This is not a nice place," he says, with a pronounced gift of understatement.

But George has a dream: a place of their own. A few acres with fruit trees and a vegetable garden and animals where, as Lennie likes to repeat, they will "live off the fatta the lan'." To get there, they'll first have to work and save their money.

It's a simple story, one that is richly told, emotionally evocative, and brought to you with great craftsmanship and artistry by director Shari Lee Miller. Miller has done absolutely stellar work in bringing together a piece that is balanced and cohesive, that invites us into George and Lennie's world. Within the constraints community theaters generally face (tight spaces and budgets), every aspect of her production is top notch. From the sound design and lighting to the genuine, confident work she draws from her cast, Miller (and her crew) deserve much credit.

As Lennie, Samson Hood revels in the wonder and innocence of childhood, but is still able to show us the anguish that comes from knowing without understanding. He sees what he is capable of but can't control, and it has wounded him. And keeps on wounding him. It's this collision of innocence and terror that Hood wears so well on his giant puppy-dog face.

Keith Baker's George provides an excellent counterpoint to Hood's colossal galumphing toddler. His hands and body are quiet much of the time, his voice measured and even, even when he is angry with Lennie. Baker shows us that the world has beaten George hard, but hasn't yet knocked him out.

George and Lennie's relationship is a marriage of a sort, and they share marriage's benefits and burdens. Steinbeck likely never imagined a day when same-gender couples could live openly, let alone marry, but it seems clear he knew two men traveling together would raise eyebrows in 1930s in rural California, as at least two other characters address the situation in dialogue. There is no hint of sexual attraction between the two, but Baker and Hood make it clear their characters really do love each other in a manner that far surpasses mere friendship. George speaks often of how different his life would be if he didn't have the responsibility of looking out for Lennie—but never leaves, though no legal or familial ties bind them.

When Lennie says "I got you. And you got me," it is among the most perfect expressions of a true marriage. And, as in the 2012 Oscar-winning French film Amour, that sort of mutual unconditional love sometimes expresses itself in ways that are simultaneously ghastly and heartrending and perfect.

Cinnabar Arts has taken on the burden of producing this powerful play, fulfilled their duty with great honor, and audiences who are smart enough to make their way to Petaluma will reap the benefits. It's a marriage made in heaven.

Of Mice and Men runs through April 13, 2014, at the Cinnabar Theater, 3333 Petaluma Blvd North, Petaluma. Shows are Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00 p.m., and Sundays at 2:00 p.m. Tickets are $25 general, $15 for those 21 and under. Tickets and additional information are available at www.cinnabartheater.org or by calling 707-763-8920.


Photo: Eric Chazankin


Cheers - and be sure to Check the lineup of great shows this season in the San Francisco area

- Patrick Thomas