Theater Review by Ron Fassler . . . .
In 1973, Len Cariou created the role of Fredrik Egerman in Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s A Little Night Music. Playing a man described in the text as “middle-aged,” Cariou was then all of thirty-three years old. The way he held himself, moved, and spoke were consistent with a man of mature years (and oh the sound of his singing voice!). It’s a performance I still marvel at. Fast forward five decades and Cariou is currently on the New York stage as a man around his own age of eighty-three in Tuesdays with Morrie, an adaptation of the best seller first published in 1997, co-written by its author Mitch Albom and playwright Jeffrey Hatcher. Co-starring Christopher J. Domig, this is an actor’s play performed by two who do not shy away from plumbing the depths.
Though there is a small stage within the confines of the St. George’s Episcopal Church (erected in 1853) on East 16th Street in Gramercy Park, near Stuyvesant Square, this Sea Dog Theater production has eschewed that space and settled on the chapel itself, which makes for an arresting visual environment. With no scenery, the sole prop is the church’s grand piano, thrust into the center of the long and deep chapel interior (it doesn’t hurt that Domig can play it). Risers have been brought in for seating and only the use of one chair, one walker and a wheelchair are used in the staging. This is a play that rests entirely on its two-person cast to carry the evening by communicating with one another—which is exactly what the book is about.
If you are unfamiliar with Albom’s memoir—a book that has sold over 20 million copies and has been translated into 45 languages—it concerns a teacher and his former pupil who reunite sixteen years after last seeing one another. Schwartz, the son of Russian-Jewish immigrants, taught sociology at Brandeis University; his students included significant anti-establishment figures such as Angela Davis and Jerry Rubin. We have all had relationships in our lives where promises about “keeping in touch” are made and broken, so the commonality is something to which anyone can relate. Most people have experienced a teacher-student dynamic in their lives and understand how sacred it can be, perhaps even exchanging roles when age becomes a factor. When Mitch and Morrie pick up their friendship where it left off, time recognizes no such boundaries. What follows is a series of Tuesdays (fourteen was the official count) that Albom devoted to visiting his former professor until the day he died from ALS (no spoiler here, as it’s all handled right up front). A workaholic and on the road regularly due to his job as a sports reporter, Albom made the uncharacteristic choice of committing himself to flying to Massachusetts weekly from his home in Detroit to spend an hour or two with his mentor.
First turned into a play in 2002, it has received multiple productions worldwide. This is my first exposure to it (although like everybody else, I read the book when it came out). It’s a very expedient, theatrical adaptation and serves its overall themes well without getting too saccharine. It also helps that the director, Erwin Maas, has done a terrific job of calibrating its tone and getting lovely performances from his actors. Christopher J. Domig easily conveys Albom’s careful but sincere demeanor, making a potent impression. Also a great listener—essential to the role—he selflessly gives the stage to Cariou, not as a sparring partner, but in a faithful and lovingly attentive way.
As for Cariou, here is the one and only Sweeney Todd (I saw him play it four times on Broadway) giving a Lion in Winter-like performance. It isn’t that it’s one last gasp, but more like a flame that refuses to be extinguished. Not a trick candle that doesn’t blow out, but rather one that blazes for eternity. Even in death and in silence, Cariou commands the stage. Having played King Lear, though Morrie Schwartz isn’t quite on the same level of drama or language, in this portrayal Cariou packs a similarly devastating punch.
Albom subtitled his memoir, “An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life’s Greatest Lesson.” If it’s a lesson you want, you can’t get a greater one than that which Len Cariou is teaching at St. George’s Episcopal Church. There are those for whom acting is a religion (I’m sure Cariou is one of them) and to see it practiced at its highest level in this setting is a lesson for us all.
Tuesdays with Morrie. Extended through April 20 at St. George’s Episcopal Church (209 East 16th Street, between Second and Third Avenues) www.seadogtheater.org
Photos: Jeremy Varner
