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Inherit the Wind, directed by Doug Hughes. Lyceum Theatre,
New York.
Darwin in the Dock by Jo Ann Skousen
"Inherit the Wind" opened this spring on Broadway with a trio of Tony Award winners leading the cast. Christopher Plummer, Brian Dennehy, and Denis O'Hare stepped into the roles based loosely on Clarence Darrow, William Jennings Bryan, and H.L. Mencken (here called Matthew Brady, Henry Drummond, and E.K. Hornbeck) in the famous 1925 "Monkey Trial" that challenged whether evolution could be taught in Tennessee schools.
| | Jo Ann Skousen
is entertainment
editor of Liberty. She lives in New
York. |
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This production is surprisingly lighthearted, humorous, and fast-paced for a play with such a serious topic. The set is a simple courtroom — two tables, a judge's bench, and a witness chair. The Lyceum is a small theater, more wide than deep, made even more intimate by a backdrop of about 50 seats on stage for audience members who "become" the townspeople in the courtroom. Before the play begins, people can be seen wandering around the stage, climbing to their seats, whispering to one another as though they have indeed just arrived for the "trial of the century." A pre-show quartet of gospel singers adds to the small-town, middle-America atmosphere even before the play begins.
Director Doug Hughes softens the play's harsh stance against religious bigotry somewhat, but religious zealotry is on trial nonetheless. Unlike the 1960 movie, which presented the Christian townspeople as an angry mob ready to lynch high school teacher John Scopes (here called Bert Cates), this production presents Christianity as a more personal and individual philosophy. True, the lighting makes the prayer meeting in Act I look something like a KKK rally, but when the minister, Jeremiah Brown, banishes his daughter Rachel for siding with the school teacher, the townspeople don't rally around his condemnation. They seem to side more with the tolerant Brady, who cautions Reverend Brown, "We must never destroy that which we hope to save."
Drummond and Brady are presented not as archenemies in this production, but as similar men who have taken opposite approaches to the same dilemma. Both seem to have lost their faith, but react differently to that loss. In the powerful end to Act I, after the rousing prayer meeting in which the minister works the crowd into a frenzy of scriptural passion, the two men sit quietly downstage. Drummond is the atheist-leaning agnostic who once believed but now admits "I don't know." Brady's faith, too, is slipping, but he keeps it to himself, not wanting the responsibility of damaging the "hope" and "comfort" of others. Drummond, too, seems saddened by his loss of faith: "When we conquer the air, birds will lose their wonder," he acknowledges.
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| If there is a villain in this
production, it is the media,
not either side of the case. |
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Some critics have described Dennehy's performance as "stiff" in comparison to Plummer's Henry Drummond, who clearly dominates the second act. But the talented Dennehy isn't stiff. Watch him closely during the courtroom scene of Act II, especially when he is not the one talking. Dennehy's most powerful acting occurs between his lines — he speaks eloquently, but then he listens, ponders, and reflects. His Brady is a man contemplating the difference between what he knows he must say and what he is beginning to doubt. He has already said to Drummond in Act I, "It takes a smart man to admit he doesn't know," but it takes an even smarter man to wait until he is sure that he doesn't know. It is a skillful, masterly performance, demonstrating what his character thinks when he thinks no one is looking.
By contrast, Plummer plays Drummond as a man who knows what he believes and does not have to hide behind appearances. His character is more relaxed, confident, and aggressive. He enters the stage in Act I inexplicably wizened, bent, and raspy, but in Act II he stands erect, takes control, and never lets go. (I have read that Paul Muni played Drummond the same way, making his initial entrance bent with age. Could this stage direction be a subtle hint of the rise from ape to man?)
As the journalist sent to cover the trial for the Baltimore Globe, Denis O'Hare embodies the acerbic wit and sharp cynicism of journalist H.L. Mencken, on whom his character is based. O'Hare slithers around the stage, delivering his lines with devilish, stylized aplomb, especially as he offers Rachel Brown, the minister's daughter, a bright red apple. Sultry as the serpent, he purrs, "I'm admired for my detestability." If there is a villain in this production, it is the media, not either side of the case.
This point is particularly apparent in the final moments of this production. Drummond stands alone in the courtroom. He picks up a copy of the Bible that has been left on a table, and then picks up a copy of Darwin's "Origin of Species" that has been left there as well. He holds the books in separate hands, weighing them thoughtfully, and then deliberately places them side by side in the same hand, companions rather than enemies. Earlier in the play Drummond has argued, "What is holy is the intelligence of the human mind," but he seems to realize that there is room for the human spirit as well.
Why produce this play now? Perhaps it's not about determining absolute truth, but about learning how to live side by side when our concepts of truth don't precisely match. We in America might be wise to take counsel from Proverbs 11:29: "He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind, and the fool shall be servant to the wise of heart."
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