|
|
|
|
|
Driving Miss Daisy Malvern Festival Theatre ***** ALFRED Uhry's semi-autobiographical play
about the growing bond between a wealthy Atlanta widow and her poor
black driver is the gentlest of comedies. But it is also a love
story, not in the great, Gone With the
Wind romantic sense, but in the way
people can find respect and affection in each other which grows into a
true friendship. It is a story which takes us from 1948 to 1972 which,
in the USA and in Georgia and the Deep South in particular, is also a
journey through the civil rights movement. Along the way are significant moments, not just
for the characters on stage but milestones in social history, such as
when the Jewish Miss Daisy's temple is bombed and suddenly black and Jew
find a common bond as victims of right wing hate, or when Miss Daisy
goes to a Martin Luther King Jnr tribute dinner but, after her son
Boolie Werthan refuses to go for business reasons, she still cannot
bring herself to ask her driver Hoke Coleburn, who is now her friend.
But times and attitudes are changing, she is a rich, white, Conservative
widow supporting the black leader of the civil rights' movement and she
. . . almost . . . invited her black driver to join her. The final scene with Miss Daisy, in her 90s and
as cantankerous as ever – one of her good days as Hoke told us – in a
nursing home being helped to eat by Hoke, who she tells is her best
friend, is both touching and poignant. The odd couple have grown old
together.
Miss Daisy is 72 when the play opens. She was
born in 1876 just 11 years after the end of the American Civil War. Gwen
Taylor, who is 73, is wonderful as Miss Daisy who is independent,
awkward, illogical and, when her son hires her Hoke as a driver,
stubborn as a mule. She manages the slow transition from resentment to
friendship with Hoke in a measured and imperceptible way as 24 years are
packed into 90 minutes. With her all the way is Don Warrington, a mere
youngster at 61 as Hoke. We are used to Warrington's beautifully clipped
Oxford accent but here he is an illiterate black Atlanta driver and like
Miss Taylor, his southern accent never wavers, nomsm. This is the 50s and 60s in the Deep South where
subservience is the norm, yesm, but we do get flashes of independence
such as when Hoke wants to stop the car to relieve himself and is told
he has to wait and should have gone when they filled up with fuel. An
angry Hoke tells Miss Daisy that coloureds were not allowed to use the
rest rooms and storms off into the bushes telling her he is not a dog,
“I am a man” – a rallying cry of the civil rights movement. Warrington handles the delicate balance between
Hoke's independence and subservience well and perhaps most impressive is
the way that Miss Daisy and Hoke gradually age, the slow stiffening of
limbs, the gradual droop of the shoulder, the more gentle, more careful
pace of walking – no mean feat to stretch it over an hour and half. Keeping it all together is Boolie, played by Ian Porter with a James Stewart sense of timing and laconic remarks as he runs a business and tries, when he is allowed to, to order his mother's life. Three performers who from the minute they walk on the stage are totally believeable and who never let the mask of theatre slip once. Boolie's telling line is when he tells his
mother why he could not go to the Martin Luther King dinner because of
the ways it could affect his business if he was seen to be supporting
civil rights, siding with the cloureds. He can hire and even treat Hoke
as a friend behind the curtain of family life but has to be a closet
liberal when it comes to business. It is difficult to comprehend the prejudice that
existed against black people in the Southern States – in the 70s I stood
on the streets of New Orleans as a Ku Klux Klan march went though; it
was eerie and frightening, complete silence - and even though
segregation was banned by law in the Deep South there were still
restaurants and even lunch counters where black people were discouraged
and, to avoid trouble, knew not to go.
This is one of those unusual plays, the recent
tour of Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune is another, which
started life as a play but only entered the public consciousness as a
film, in this case an Oscar winning feature film with Jessica Tandy as
Miss Daisy and Morgan Freeman as Hoke. The danger is that it is seen as a play cashing in on a film when in fact it is returning to its spiritual home on the stage with a wonderfully simple set from John Lee Beatty which gives us a home, an office and a simple car with tables and chairs gliding in an out and the car swivelling around corners and into parking lots. To add to the flexibility the stage is
broken up into different areas and scenes with lighting, designed by
Humphrey McDermott - the power of light on a stage should never been
forgotten and then as a backdrop we have a huge video wall with images
designed by Wendall K Harrington. The growing use of video projection can, as in
this case, enhance a performance with newsreel clips and visuals rather
like a documentary, setting the scene with dates or illustrating
locations such as the Supermarket Piggly Wiggly. Despite the story being slow and gentle David
Esbjornson's sensitive direction keeps up a decent pace which is
essential with no interval (go before you go in as my old mother used to
tell me). A 90 minute one act play is a bit of a slog if the director
allows it to drag at all but no one was looking at watches or shuffling
in their seats come the end - a tell-tale sign the audience has had
enough – although a few knees were creaking, including mine, when people
got up to leave. That is what age does to you. Beautifully measured performances, sensitive
direction and a sympathetic set and lighting make life's journey with
Miss Daisy a real pleasure. This is memorable theatre that deserves to
be seen. To 10-11-12. Roger Clarke
|
|
|
|
