Delaware Theatre Company presents Mitch Albom and Jeffrey Hatcher’s Tuesdays with Morrie

This two-hander opens with Mitch (Adam Howard), a very successful Detroit sports journalist, delivering a monologue, introducing himself to the audience along with his former college professor, the ebullient Morrie (Peter DeLaurier). Throughout the evening, Mitch alternates between providing expository narrative (past and present) and dropping into the play’s action, a theatrical device that serves this tale well.

Morrie’s former student, who never realized his dreams of becoming a jazz pianist, is now driven solely by his demanding and burgeoning media career. One evening, watching the television news program Nightline, he sees Morrie interviewed by Ted Koppel. Morrie was an important mentor during Mitch’s college days, and the beloved Brandeis professor is now terminally ill with ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis), known as Lou Gehrig’s disease.

Whether from sentiment or an unrecognized case of journalistic jealousy, Mitch flies to Boston to see Morrie. The graduating student had promised to stay in touch with the man he called Coach, but it’s been 16 years since the two saw one another. Mitch has come to say goodbye, sure that this will be a one-off visit. But once there, he finds himself again in Morrie’s gently wise thrall. Though they live half a continent apart, Mitch finds himself agreeing to come every Tuesday (hence the title), and at each visit, the blinkered writer learns more and more about himself.

Superbly grounded

In this production, both actors are superbly grounded and excellently directed. As their teacher/student relationship morphs into adult concerns, each man undergoes (vastly differing) life changes. Portraying Mitch’s journey from callow youth to harried professional to changed man, Howard is both relatable and believable, and he handles his narrative duties with clarity and aplomb.

As Morrie, DeLaurier is a marvel in a massively challenging role, one that demands command of a lifetime of craft. A lesser actor’s portrayal could become a portrait of an academic know-it-all or turn maudlin and repetitive as Morrie’s strength wanes, and he droops toward death. But at every turn, DeLaurier resists any hint of caricature or actorly condescension. He fully inhabits the man, showing his wit and strength and resilience. As a result, the audience goes joyfully and willingly on Morrie’s final journey.

Thoughtful direction and design

Matt Silva has thoughtfully directed this affecting production, his final show as DTC’s artistic director, without treacle and with elegiac elegance. The beautiful scenic design by Roman Tatarowicz features a spreading, red-leafed Japanese maple tree, a feature in Morrie’s backyard, that is richly lit by Alyssandra Docherty.

Christopher Colucci’s sensitive sound design includes Mitch’s onstage piano (recorded and played by Owen Pelesh), and the show is filled with topical songs that complement the story. Mitch has married a singer, and the voice of his unseen wife is well-sung by Sophia DiLeo. As the play opens, Morrie is seen dancing, then sitting, then in a wheelchair, then in a reclining chair, and then (ultimately) in the hospital bed where he dies, and this furniture—changed by stagehands wearing hospital garments—advances the story with simple economy.

An especially meaningful production

Winner of a number of Philadelphia’s Barrymore Awards, DeLaurier has a distinguished theatrical career, acting in hundreds of productions, working as a director, and writing and publishing plays that have been produced in every state and worldwide. But seeing him in this fine production is especially meaningful because DTC (now in its 45th season) was founded by DeLaurier, his late wife Ceal Phelan, and Wilmington native Cleveland Morris.

Near the end of the play, Morrie repeatedly asks Mitch, “Are you at peace with yourself?”, reminding him that “you’re dying too, just a lot slower”. The outcome of the play is a given; Schwartz died in November 1994, and so we know how it all ends. But for Mitch—and Albom—Morrie’s death was a beginning, the journey toward understanding what constitutes a good life. This is not only a portrait of how one person’s life was changed by another. The goal of Tuesdays with Morrie is a hope that your life will be changed as well, maybe for one night, maybe for more.