Theatre in Review: A Little Journey (Mint Theatre)

Whenever the Mint Theatre has a success, we congratulate the company's artistic director, Jonathan Bank, for discovering another lost gem from some remote corner of the theatrical bookshelf. But maybe it's time to start acknowledging his acumen in selecting the colleagues who bring these works to life. Consider the case of A Small Journey; Rachel Crothers' 1918 play is a fine, funny, flavorful slice of Americana, populated by a trainload of characters whose attitudes and foibles are rendered with exactitude and warmth. If this script is any indication, Crothers -- one of the few female playwrights of note in the first half of the 20th century -- needs further investigating. (The Mint is already on the case, having revived Susan and God, also by Crothers, in 2006.)

But, really, where would the Mint, and A Little Journey, be without Roger Hanna? Assigned the seemingly impossible task of giving us equal access to every berth in a train car traveling from New York to many points in the Midwest, he has ingeniously devised a kind of carousel structure that silently spins around, swiftly transporting us from one subplot to the next. It's an eye-grabbing solution that, despite its skeletal structure, strongly communicates a sense of lives lived at close quarters over the course of several days.

Bank is also smart in his choice of directors. Working with Hanna's set, Jackson Gay keeps the action neat and nimble, letting the casual conversations between strangers tumble out and allowing the audience to discover for itself the many revelations contained therein. And when Crothers uncorks a honey of plot twist, pushing what has been an engaging comedy of temperaments to a slightly higher, more metaphysical level, the director goes right along, without missing a beat.

And, of course, A Little Journey wouldn't be the charmer it is without a cannily chosen cast. Laurie Birmingham, looking and sounding a little like the Angela Lansbury of the early '70s, is a thoroughly welcome presence as Mrs. Welch, a New York matron who wants the entire train to know what a sophisticate she is. Gleefully patronizing everyone on stage, she turns every conversation into an autobiographical monologue. She's also more than a little malicious. "Here's a Kansas City paper," says a kindly traveling salesman. "Like to have it?" "Do I look it?" is her frosty reply. She's also skilled in the fine art of character assassination, and yet, when push comes to shove, she has a mind --and a surprisingly charitable heart -- of her own. Birmingham is something of a new face in New York, but I imagine we'll be seeing her more often.

There's also fine work from Jennifer Blood as a young woman whose obvious devotion to her infant daughter is thrown into chilling relief when she suddenly offers the child to a virtual stranger. Rosemary Prinz is delightful as a deaf old bird who has long since given up worrying about how people react to anything she says. Chet Siegel is lovely as her frequently mortified granddaughter. Craig Wroe is thoroughly convincing as a traveling salesman who loves to live it up on Broadway during his off hours.

Providing a solid emotional core is Samantha Soule as Lily, a kind of poor relation whose benefactress -- a wealthy aunt -- has lost her money. Having grown up on the fringes of New York society and lacking a fiancé with suitable resources, Lily is being shipped off to her brother's family, where she will be viewed as just another drain on their resources. Crothers neatly establishes Lily's desperate situation when her train ticket vanishes and she has no money to pay for a substitute, even on a temporary basis. Assistance arrives in the form of Jim West (nicely played by McCaleb Burnett), an attractive, if rather eccentric, individual who runs a camp in the middle of nowhere where drunks and losers come to reclaim their souls. The sight of these two deeply lonely individuals quietly, tentatively circling each other in search of connection makes for a surprisingly suspenseful central plot line.

Paul Whitaker's lighting casts a lovely sepia glow over the action. Martha Hally's costumes by and large feel like authentic representations of everyday wear circa 1914, although she goes a little overboard devising turbans and other vulgar items for Mrs. Welch to wear. Jane Shaw's sound design is quite effective, ranging from lovely string arrangements of period tunes to some startling, and utterly unexpected, effects.

It all makes for a finely detailed group portrait of the American middle classes just before World War I -- exposing their attitudes, prejudices, and the little fault lines of class that run through even this relatively narrow slice of society. In the third act, the conversation does become a little highfalutin at times, as Crothers focuses less on the characters and (alas) more on the meaning of life. (Although, when we finally get it, the author's philosophy of life is a remarkably tough-minded one.) But because of Bank and his talented colleagues, A Little Journey is revealed to be no small achievement. It's an example of the Mint at its finest.--David Barbour