New Light Theatre presents Thornton Wilder’s Our Town

The characters in Thornton Wilder’s 1938 masterwork hadn’t changed, and neither had most of the dialogue—except for a few omissions and misstatements that might have been directorial overreach or simply opening-night jitters. The action moved as expected from the slice-of-life first act to the marriage-focused second and mournful conclusion, set atop a hillside graveyard. Yet something about that sleepy New Hampshire hamlet seems unnecessarily turbocharged in Megan Bellwoar’s busy production, which often bulldozes the simple gifts embedded in the play’s flawless structure.

Wilder distills virtually every human emotion in those three acts, and they’re best delivered with minimal adornment. The author himself called for directors and designers to forego the usual trappings of theatrical artifice, preferring a bare stage and straightforward costumes, with the actors suggesting the rest through subtle pantomime. Our Town is Everytown, really, and anything that comes across with too much specificity tends to blunt the power of that message.

Bells and whistles

Bellwoar, however, can’t seem to resist directorial bells and whistles. Before the play proper even begins, company members engage in a rousing hootenanny, performing spirituals like “I’ll Fly Away” in seductive harmonies. (The inappropriate injection of music appears to be a running theme for Our Town, affecting both the disappointing 2019 production at People’s Light and the recent mediocre Broadway revival.) The clear talent of the performers in this preamble diminishes the undistinguished but heartfelt singing of the choir embedded in the script.

Likewise, the bric-a-brac scenic design by Parris Bradley tends to distract the eye, inviting the audience to peruse the various antique furnishings rather than pay close attention to the scenes of domestic life playing out before them. It’s another reminder that when it comes to Grover’s Corners, less is more.

Maximalism also defines the acting style of the large ensemble. The Wilmington, Delaware-based company has fielded an impressively robust collection of actors for the production, with 16 people onstage and an additional nine understudies. Almost to a person, though, they all try to goose the writing in unnecessary ways. There is hardly a line of dialogue to which an exclamation point isn’t added. Several of the performers pitch their delivery to the size of a thousand-seat Broadway house, rather than the small studio in the Opera Delaware complex where the performance actually takes place.

Most of the cast choose one affectation and stick to it. Brian McCann’s Simon Stimson is eternally peeved, Trice Baldwin’s Mrs. Soames perpetually excitable. As the central couple, Jessica Money (Emily Webb) and Frank Jimenez (George Gibbs) demonstrate precious little chemistry. Miriam White makes for an oddly perky Stage Manager, more chirpy cruise director than gruff interlocutor.

Leaving dry-eyed

The most memorable performances are often the simplest ones. Ciera Gardner makes Howie Newsome’s few lines resonate with meaning; in the graveyard scene, they are wonderfully evocative in a famous speech about constellations. Lena Mucchetti brings a lovely quietude to Mrs. Webb, and Felicity Mundy is a poised, natural Rebecca Gibbs.

A friend recently asked me which moments in Our Town make me cry. I responded that they change with every production. At New Light, I kept waiting for any instance to move me. I walked back to my car dry-eyed.