Miriam Gillinson
posted 1 October 2007

Awake and Sing tells the story of a working-class family living in a claustrophobic, Bronx apartment in the 1930s. The dingy washing-lines that sweep above Michael Attenborough’s stage remind us that this is the Depression. Despite the context, however, this is essentially a play about the complicated role family members play in shaping each other’s destinies. We watch the Bergers’ lives play out beneath their dirty laundry, as their conflicting dreams and attitudes threaten to tear the family apart.

At the play’s core is son Ralph (Ben Turner), mother Bessie (played by a radiant Stockard Channing) and grandfather Jacob (John Rogan). Whilst Jacob encourages Ralph’s dreams, Bessie is determined only that he marries into good society (there’s a bit of Pride and Prejudice here if you look hard enough). Alongside threatening Ralph’s ambitions, Bessie pushes pregnant daughter Hennie into a loveless, safe marriage. Hennie’s unhappiness later in the play – married, but in love with Moe Axelrod – serves as a painful warning to brother Ralph. Near the play’s close an event occurs so shocking and disruptive that Ralph is finally forced into action and leaves home. In a sentimental but morally questionable conclusion, Hennie also moves out (and abandons her child) after Moe Axelrod declares his love: ‘You’re home for me.’ This conclusion is indicative of the production as a whole: neat and entertaining, but not quite painful or nuanced enough really to ring true.

The basic problem here is playwright Clifford Odets' characters, which at times verge close to stereotype. The trickiest is grandpa Jacob, who’s handed a number of fairly corny lines: ‘Do what is in your heart and you carry in yourself a revolution!’ Perhaps this could prove inspiring in another play, but the sentiment ends up sounding sappy here. John Rogan tries his best, but doesn’t quite hold the stature or warmth necessary for this role. His scenes fall a little flat; those between the grandfather and Ralph are particularly disappointing, never really establishing the unique, affecting relationship these two characters share. Fault also lies with Ben Turner, who never quite gets to grips with Ralph Berger. A lot of Ralph’s already brash lines were screamed out by Rogan: ‘I wanted to cry, that’s how I felt!’ He predominantly comes across as a whiny romantic, when we should get a much stronger impression of the character underneath all this.

It is the actors with the subtler parts to play, who find more success with their roles. Daughter Hennie (played with verve and strength by Jodie Whittaker) is a particularly meaty role, trapped as she is between material understanding and romantic sympathies. Hennie and Axelrod have a wicked on-stage dynamic and carry out their own silent, private conversation throughout the play. Their attraction cuts through the dialogue and whenever they speak, their encounters are charged and believable. Nigel Lindsay seems to really understand his role as Axelrod and deals with his fresh one-liners (‘Hello girls – how’s your whiskers?’) and more sensitive moments with ease. It is these two the audience cannot stop watching, and their story that becomes the most important.

Stockard Channing proves equally charismatic, playing her part with exceptional confidence, sensitivity and charm. She deals particularly well with the part’s comic elements, delivering a string of one-liners with real finesse: ‘Second fiddle – I mean, he don’t even play in the orchestra!’ Nevertheless, there’s something about Channing that doesn’t quite fit with this role: she’s almost too strong for it. When I saw Awake and Sing at the Belasco Theatre in New York, there was an element of the desperate, the pathetic to Zoe Wanamaker’s Bessie. Her fussing and fluttering – the constant ringing of her hands and movement of her body – meant the sheer effort of Bessie’s life shone through. Channing’s Bessie is a tad more serene, composed and impressive; so whilst she is hugely watchable, some of her monologues aren’t as powerful as they could’ve been. She isn’t worn out enough – broken by her life – to generate real sympathy.

Channing’s assured performance shares many traits with the overall production: classy, confident, but somehow lacking something. Maybe this is the playwright’s fault – some parts are just too tidy to work effectively. There is a moment before the interval that smacks of insincerity, when the stage is split between Jacob and his grandson and the remaining family. Whilst Ralph weeps into his grandfather’s lap, the family gathers round the dinner table, their carving knives raised for sharpening. It’s a crass moment and cheapens a play which, though flawed contains moments of real entertainment and insight.

Till 20 October 2007