By Tom Sime, KERA 90.1 commentator
Dallas, TX – These days, we think of homeless and unemployed as synonymous, but "Of Mice and Men" reminds us that for migrant workers, homelessness is a job. John Steinbeck's classic novella has been burned into the brains of every high school student, perhaps rendering it inert on the page to glazed-over English 101 eyes. But the Dallas Theater Center comes to the rescue with a breathtaking stage version that gives the old warhorse amazing freshness.
The stage version first appeared in 1937, the same year as the original story. It was adapted by Steinbeck and George S. Kaufman. But you'd think it was written last week in this version.
An enormous, beautiful set of raw wood in the Arts District Theater evokes the plains of California, where we meet a pair of migrant workers. Lennie, a super-strong giant with the mind of a 5-year-old, is played by Sean Runnette. He travels with, and is protected by, his longtime friend George, played by Todd Weeks. George plans their itinerary and gets them out of the trouble that results from Lennie's accidental brushes with the law. They had to flee their last job when Lennie, who loves to touch soft things, touched a woman's dress, wouldn't let go, and was accused of attempted rape.
But things are looking up now; Lennie and George have found work hauling bags of barley on a big ranch. It looks like their dream of buying their own piece of land may come true after all, and Lennie never tires of hearing about the plan. In a world of loner males, the deeply bonded Lennie and George are regarded with some suspicion by the other ranch hands, but they work hard and try to keep a low profile. This despite the provoking ways of Curley, the boss's hothead son, played by Derek Phillips. Curley has been married for just a few weeks, and his voluptuous wife, played by Lorca Simons, has all the men on edge with her flirtatious ways.
Richard Hamburger's sure direction results in uniformly superb performances. But Runnette and Simons are especially impressive. Both actors transcend the shallow interpretations their characters are prone to. Runnette makes Lennie not only believable but deep; we feel his impossible burden of brute strength and earnest desire for contact. And Simons makes Curley's wife just as tragic a combination; she shares with Lennie the longing for companionship and the unintentionally calamitous consequences of that need. She's not just a floozy; we believe her when she says she just wants to talk, and when she offers to let Lennie touch her oh-so-soft hair, we know she doesn't mean to tease him, much less arouse one of his horrific panic attacks.
Though it must have been tempting to mine "Of Mice and Men" for novel angles, Hamburger never over-embellishes the story. And he doesn't shy away from the n-word, which the characters probably would have used. There's no point in glossing over such ugliness any more than there is in sweetening the picture of migrant farm life, which probably hasn't changed much. Hope is no doubt just as hard to hold on to now as it would have been for Lennie and George.
Tom Sime is staff critic for The Dallas Morning News.