Our Town: Good to Come Home To

Good German Gets Audiences Talking

The Good German, Marin Theatre Company’s new production, takes place in a household in Nazi-era Germany, but it’s not the usual war story. In fact, nothing in this play moves as expected.

For one thing, there’s only one uniform, and that belongs to Gretel, a Red Cross nurse. As the play opens, Gretel is just returning home from work and bringing a houseguest, Wilhelm Braun, who has just lost his wife and child in a fire that destroyed their home. (The fire, we will learn later, was deliberately set.) Nonetheless, Gretel is anxious about her professor husband’s acceptance of Braun. Karl is a good man, she explains, but he feels “a mild philosophical distaste for some things.”

Their friend Siemi comes by, and though he expresses compassion for Braun’s tragedy, still leaves an uneasy sense that he’s a threat to the household. Gretel says of him, “Siemi’s nice, but he’s not good.”

Karl remains stiff-necked for weeks, but still manages to get Braun some forged papers to replace identification destroyed in the fire. By now, they are becoming familiar to one another. In conversation, Karl tells Braun, “I enjoy a difference of opinion,” and Braun replies, “And I am the difference.”

Then Siemi, now a plain-clothes Nazi officer, bursts in with news of “a horrible mistake.” Supposedly at a nurses’ meeting, Gretel has been shot and killed while running from the Gestapo.

Braun is, of course, a Jew in hiding. Siemi suspects this. Karl knows, but hates the Nazis for what they’ve done to Germany. We’re left to wonder when and from whom will Braun’s betrayal come? And now that Gretel’s dead, who will fight back against the horrors outside?

The Good German has no relation to the movie or book of the same name. MTC’s production is a west coast premiere of David Wiltse’s 2003 work, formerly staged in Connecticut and in Florida. It’s tightly written and just as tightly directed by Kent Nicholson. The play’s physical struggles and open doorway at center allow the dangers outside into Karl’s dignified, handsomely-furnished home, but the home also serves to imprison its occupants. (Melpomene Katakalos designed the set; Michael Palumbo did the lighting; Richard Lane was Fight Director.)

Though audiences might wish to see more of Ann Darragh as Gretel, the weight of this play’s development is carried by three excellent male actors, Brian Herndon, Darren Bridgett and Warren David Keith. Herndon’s Braun seems more victim than hero. Keith’s Professor Karl is both infuriating and admirable in his stubbornness. And Bridgett, in possibly his best Bay Area performance to date, portrays Siemi as detestable and sympathetic at the same time. “I hate this job!” he laments, even as he moves up in the ranks and keeps doing it.

The Good German is beautifully constructed, neatly resolved, and somewhat didactic, but it also leaves room for its audience to think. Playgoers will enjoy a spirited ride home from the theatre if they consider the question, “Which one was the good German?”

The Good German can be seen at the Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Avenue in Mill Valley through April 15. Performances run every day but Monday, with special performances throughout the run. Prices range from $19 (students) to $47. For complete information, see www.marintheatre.org or call the box office, 388-5208.

Here’s how the theatre union, Actors Equity, describes the job of Stage Manager, a person second in importance only to the Director. He or she “sees that cast members are in place to make entrances and exits, oversees scene changes and cleans up backstage to get ready for the next show.” The Stage Manager in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town does all these things, but also leaves audiences with a sense of wonder and a lump in their throats.

By now, Our Town—the fictional Grover’s Corner’s, New Hampshire – is familiar to anybody who grew up and went to school in the U. S. We’ve seen it on stage or in film, studied it in English class, auditioned for it, played one of the parts. Since Wilder’s play premiered and won his second Pulitzer in 1938, some of the biggest names in theatre have appeared on its bare stage: William Holden, Henry Fonda, Hal Holbrook, Margaret Hamilton, Paul Newman, and twice, the playwright himself. The show just keeps going. The Thornton Wilder Society estimates that Our Town is performed at least once a day, every day, in all parts of the world. Yet remarkably, says Ross Valley Players’ Director Robert Wilson, this present production appears to be a first for RVP.

Our Town opens on barely-furnished set, which the Stage Manager (Wood Lockhart) describes for the audience. The year is 1901; the first automobile will come along in five years, he says. A whistle from a dependable train affirms that it’s now 5:45 in the morning. Two neighbor ladies come into their kitchens to prepare breakfast, the newspaper boy delivers the paper, and Doc Gibbs (Chuck Isen) returns from his own delivery, a pair of twins born over in the new Polish community.

Three years go by, and the teenagers who grew up next door to each other are now getting married and setting out on their own, after having come to that agreement over ice cream sodas. “Remember the days when you were first in love,” the Stage Manager reminds the audience.

But nine years after that, he takes us uphill to Grover’s Corners’ cemetery to study the old graves and the new. Many of the graves are occupied by people we met in previous acts. They still communicate, but now serenely watch the weather and the stars and wait for what comes next. “We all know that something is eternal,” our guide says, “and that something has to do with human beings.”

The play has a large cast, too many to list individually, but it should be noted that Robert Wilson has supplied this production with strong actors, especially in the principal roles. Wood Lockhart presents a solid performance as the Stage Manager, more wise than folksy. The young lovers, George and Emily (Francis Serpa and Vivian Kane) are beautifully matched, and Serpa manages to avoid the “gee-whiz”ness that sometimes afflicts actors in this part. As George’s parents, Chuck Isen portrays his dutiful, tired father, with Kathleen Gerard as his wife, who dreams of a grand vacation where “people don’t speak English, and don’t even want to.” Middle-schooler Emily Pathman has the role of George’s little sister, Rebecca.

In the house next door, Emily’s parents are played by Keith Jefferds and Susan Suomi, though on opening night, Jennifer Reimer stood in for Ms. Suomi and never missed a beat. Stephen Dietz brings a quiet, bitter dimension to the role of the choirmaster, Simon Stimson.

Billie Cox’s well-timed sound effects --the train whistle, plop of the newspapers, clank of milk bottles and clucking of chickens bring life to the bare set, as do Michael Berg’s period costumes.

And, it should be noted, much of this production was pulled together by Melania Barry, Stage Manager.

Our Town plays at The Barn Theatre in the Marin Art & Garden Center, Ross, through April 22. Performance times vary, and prices range from $16 to $20. For complete information and reservations, call 456-0555 or see www.rossvalleyplayers.com.