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'PARADE' RECOUNTS THE LYCHING OF LEO FRANK IN BRILLIANT MUSICAL
"Parade." Book by Alfred Uhry. Music and lyrics by Jason Robert Brown. Co-conceived and directed by Harold Prince. Starring Brent Carver, Carolee Carmello, Herndon Lackey, John Hickok, Christy Carlson Romano, Ray Aranha, Evan Pappas, John Leslie Wolfe, J.B. Adams, Rufus Bonds, Jr., Don Chastain, Kirk McDonald, Jeff Edgerton, Jessica Molaskey. Choreography by Patricia Birch. Set by Riccardo Hernandez. Costumes by Judith Dolan. Lighting by Howell Binkley. New York: Vivian Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center, Broadway & 65 St. 212-239-6200, 800-432-7250. $40-$75. Through Feb. 28. NEW YORK -- A huge bare tree, limbs jutting out from a thick,
slanting trunk, stands ominously in the background, overseeing much of the
action of this brilliant and stirring musical play. Spare and stark, it
reflects the dramatic and poetic style of "Parade," a work in the folk
opera tradition of "Porgy and Bess" -- powerful, profound, and perfectly
crafted, with moving, often witty, unsentimental lyrics fusing seamlessly
with plot dialogue and presented by a superbly talented cast.
This production deals subtly and artfully with the complexities of
anti-Semitism, racism, exploited child labor, political and personal
opportunism and heroism, and the archetype conventional woman who acquires
boldness and fortitude to defend a jailed husband.
From the first moment, the collaboration by author Alfred Uhry,
composer-lyricist Jason Robert Brown, and director Harold Prince is bathed
in irony. The "parade" celebrates the Confederate memorial day, an almost
religious event commemorating the South's terrifying racism. The annual
street pageant repeats as a counterpoint to the South's murder of Leo Frank:
the parade is also a lynch mob.
The story of the play is the arrest, trial and lynching of Frank,
a New York Jew, who in 1913 was jailed for the rape and murder of Mary
Phagan, a 13-year-old worker in the Atlanta pencil factory where he was
superintendent.
It is also the love story of Leo and his wife, Lucille. Frank was
a smart, decent man but also cold and rigid, not very exciting. Lucille
was a very proper, conservative woman of the time. Their arranged
marriage seemed passionless.
And it is a broad look into the social history of the South -- its
child labor, provincialism, political opportunism and corruption, yellow
journalism, racism, anti-Semitism, and also its moments of political and
personal courage.
The story is part of playwright Uhry's family history. Leo Frank
worked for Uhry's mother's uncle -- a member of Lucille's family -- who
owned the factory. Two of his grandmother's cousins served on Frank's
defense team, and Lucille was a friend of his grandmother.
The play is tinged with tension and horror, because you know how
the nightmare ends. But it also offers a sense of exhilaration at the
transformation and valor of the story's heroes. Prince stages the
production with subtle dignity, never descending into Hollywood-style
melodrama. Brent Carver and Carolee Carmello are memorable as Leo and
Lucille Frank, bringing conviction and sensitivity to their roles.
The social backdrop which adds complexity to Uhry's story begins
with the first victim, Mary (Christy Carlson Romano), who earns a meager
10 cents an hour fastening erasers to pencils. She is emblematic of a
generation of children forced to go into mills and factories after
economic distress, which the South blamed on its loss in Civil War, forced
families off farms.
Prosecutor Hugh Dorsey (Herndon Lackey) fears voters will link
Mary's death to child labor and blame politicians for the system; so, he
decides to go after the factory boss, not the black janitor Newt Lee (Ray
Aranha) and sweeper (and escaped convict) Jim Conley (Rufus Bonds Jr.) who
were working in the basement where Mary was found.
Dorsey invents a story and coaches the young factory girls to lie.
In a startling fantasy number, "Come Up to My Office," choreographed by
the creative Patricia Birch, Frank assumes a lascivious personality and
joins the girls in a mocking depiction of the accused sexual harasser and
seducer.
The press plays a familiar, dreary role. Tom Watson (John Leslie
Wolfe), the fanatic Christian fundamentalist publisher, spews hate and
promises to make Dorsey governor. Britt Craig, the drunk reporter.
portrayed with dark comedic skill by Evan Pappas, exults, "You're riding
the crest of the scoop for the year!"
In a lively musical number, blacks comment cynically that
authorities wouldn't be paying attention at all had a black girl been
killed. Aranha plays the janitor with great style and a tremulous bass
that reminds one of a jazz horn.
Burdened with an incompetent "good ole boy" white-suited attorney,
given vulgar charm by J.B. Adams, Leo Frank reads the law books and
prepares appeals himself. (The lawyer is invented; Frank actually had
lawyers from top Atlanta firms.)
Lucille, played and sung by Carolee Carmello in a rich, sweet
soprano, overcomes her humiliation to grow into an assertive, heroic
defender of his cause, sending letters to newspaper publishers and
provoking national protest.
And the honorable Governor Slaton (John Hickok), sacrificing his
likely election to the Senate, is moved to conduct his own investigation
and commute Frank's death sentence to life in prison.
The 27-year old composer Jason Robert Brown puts harsh-edged folk
rock into the voices of youths -- the young soldier and Mary's friend,
Frankie (Kirk McDonald). Other prettier tunes sometimes reach a crescendo
to mirror the plot.
Designer Riccardo Hernandez's sets are minimal and inventive. In
his "parade," Confederate flags, silhouetted figures and a ghostlike
playerless brass band pass behind a crowd of real figures and more black
silhouettes. In the court room, ceiling fans turn, casting their shadows
on the people and floors below. A red and gold-lit backdrop of rural
shacks and trees dramatically sets off a chain gang.
Judith Dolans' costumes are in appropriate somber grays and
beiges.
"Parade" is reflective of the best tradition of theater as a venue
for serious attention to political and social issues, taking the space
left by television and movies that wallow in the trite and exploitative.
Director Prince continues his contribution to this tradition,
which has included staging the original "Cabaret," "Kiss of the
Spiderwoman," and "Evita." Author Uhry has addressed bigotry in "Driving
Miss Daisy" and "Last Night of Ballyhoo."
Postscripts: Though a photo of the lynchers posing with Frank's
body hanging from a tree was widely distributed, no one was ever charged
with the murder. The event energized the just-created Anti-Defamation
League. Lucille Frank did not marry again. To the end of her life, she
referred to herself as Mrs. Leo M. Frank -- a rare case when it was
admirable for a woman to go by her husband's name.
Hugh Dorsey was elected governor of Georgia.
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