I’m sad to see the Clarence Brown Theatre’s production of “All my Sons” come to an end. It’s been advertised, and The Daily Beacon has listed it. Now it’s leaving, and I’m sure many have missed a wonderful chance to see something that will move their souls.
We don’t see plays like this enough. I’m a big fan of dynamic entertainment. Karaoke, shooting pool, dancing, (sometimes even) poetry slammin’ and playing games like Munchkin, Go and Backgammon. They involve skill and socializing. They can be fun, yet teach skills of the mind and body.
I love plays because I love the talent that’s been cultivated in the actors, who get up for 2 hours plus and take the people in the room to another time, place or world. At some point it feels like you’re watching a movie, then you remember what’s happening involves no digital technology. No screens, no cameras, no pre-recording, not even a slide show to go along. You are just part of a group of people in a space, being swept away by the storytelling of an ensemble. I love the talent and the discipline.
“All My Sons” was incredible for another reason. Though I’m just sitting in a chair, letting it wash over me, something incredibly dynamic is happening when I see it. Something is being taught. I doubt there was a group that saw it that was not quickly thereafter exploring together the meaning and moral scope of the play.
The error of prioritizing family over other fellow men, the issue of business prosperity versus moral obligation and the issues of propriety concerning loved ones lost are just a few of the moral topics loaded in the play.
In the end, Arthur Miller (the playwright) is asking us some very difficult questions about ourselves. I think any entertainment that teaches me, in a way I’ll remember, something about my duty to mankind is worth the cost of admission. Any reminder of the physical and spiritual consequences of deviation from the way of truth and justice is a much more valuable thing than a night out to the theater.
It happens sometimes that entertainment turns out this way. I remember seeing “Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith” in the theater and then going to Steak ‘n Shake for what turned into a long discussion about the moral and ethical messages of the movie. There were more than you catch the first time, unless you’re looking: the dangers of flattery, the destructiveness of co-dependency, the obligation to battle the brothers of your fellowship if that is the last option for loving them, the price of power, the virtues of being teachable and a host of others.
It is the highest form of art to not only perfectly execute something, but to execute something that is didactic, something that encourages us to be better people, something that carries the weight of real instruction in the art of living.
As Clive Owen’s character says in “Inside Man,” a Spike Lee film, “The longer you run from your sins, the more exhausted you are when they catch up to you.” That is a big part of “All My Sons.” It also deals with how hard it is to come back to the light the longer you hold on to a lie and what it might do to you if you wait too long. It deals with how the sins of one affect others. It has a way of making its viewers rethink their moral priorities and consider the weight of trust we all bear with those around us.
I could go into what it teaches, but I couldn’t do as good a job. Using this type of creative expression to reveal truths makes it stick, and this is a type of art that few can create. It has the power to present a message that a person might not otherwise accept and then to change that person for the better.
Keep it up, Clarence Brown Theatre. Students, if you haven’t been, you’ve still got chances to go. More shows are coming.
