Tuesdays with Morrie: a strong reading of a work that helps us understand Lou Gehrig’s disease.

Tuesdays with Morrie: a strong reading of a work that helps us understand Lou Gehrig’s disease.

TuesdaywithMorrieOttawa

Photo. Barry Caplan

Director John P. Kelly’s experiment with stage effects brings about a new relationship between Morrie and the theatre. The play is based on the  memoir Tuesdays with Morrie by the newspaper columnist, radio host, television commentator and sports journalist Mitch Albom who lives and works in Detroit.  He and Jeffrey Hatcher adapted Albom’s  book  into a hit play  of the same title, which opened off-Broadway in 2002 and has since been performed in regional theatres across Canada and the USA.  It was performed in French at the Théâtre de l’Ile (Gatineau)  several years ago with Gilles Provost as Morrie and  more recently it became a highly praised performance at the 1000 Islands Playhouse last summer in Gananoque.  

The important thing is that this show is not based on a work of fiction.  It is a true experience of memory, adapted into a play which takes us on a  journey through the final months in the life of Morrie Schwartz, a sociology professor at Brandeis University whom Mitch Albom  knew and admired when he studied at that institution.  Schwartz knew Angela  Davis, Jerry Rubin and all the important protesters during the 1960s neo-romantic revolution.  Morrie also introduced Albom to the anti-psychiatry movement of the 1960s epitomized by  R.D.  Laing’s book The Divided Self which questioned all the principles of modern psychiatry and the notion of madness based on the traditional views of the family. Schwarz was a product of that period, the thinking that is no longer in vogue these days which is why the teachings and aphorisms of the dying sociologist seem so amazingly open and revolutionary and have given rise to such successful discussion on the stage.

The choice of this subject matter was a pure coincidence but it seems amazing that the question of this disease has hit the newspapers recently, when we learned that the popular liberal MP Mauril Bélanger who had just been re-elected in Ottawa East was diagnosed with the disease. However, the Liberal party gave Bélanger a standing ovation and allowed him to enter the House of Commons as the symbolic speaker of the house for the day, the position he was hoping to have when he came back to work. The arrival of Bélanger, moving slowly down the corridor with his walker, surrounded by the MPs from both sides of the House crossed party lines and created a sense of dignity and solidarity within the House of Commons and drew attention to the illness for which there is currently no cure. The cast and team working on Tuesdays with Morrie also are hoping to raise awareness about Lou Gehrig’s disease and they were asking for donations from the audience on opening night.

According to the book, and then the play,  after Mitch  graduated from Brandeis,   Albom forgot about Schwartz until one day, 16 years later,  he read a report about Professor Schwartz who was having difficulty because he had contracted  ALS’(Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis)  otherwise known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. Albom at first felt guilty because he had not remained in touch with Morrie, but he quickly got back in touch with his former professor who was in Boston. When Mitch  realized how sick Schwartz was, he decided to visit him regularly every week, until  the professor died  several months later. He recorded their conversations, he watched Morrie’s interviews with TV journalist Ted Koppel  three months later.  It is through these conversations, we learn more about  Morrie’s vision of the world, his philosophy of life, and what Lou Gehrig’s disease really means for those who are living with the symptoms. The rest  is worked out through the relationship between the two men on stage. 

The play  is presented in two parts, each one lasts about an hour. The unfolding story is  riveting,especially as the symptoms increase and the bond between the two men becomes stronger, during the  second part of the evening. The memory play begins with Mitch sitting at a piano on an almost bare stage. The young man, presented as a jazz musician playing  in a bar, speaks to us about his early years at university and especially about his old professor in the days when he was still in good health. Director Kelly  has added this setting which is not in the play but which, along with visuals, props and stage business, seems to  emphasize the theatrical nature of the Morrie character,  created by this show. A stage hand moves in and out removing props, opening doors, changing the set, setting up the theatrical process so that we are emotionally distanced from the  the tragic side of this story and more intrigued by the performance aspect of Morrie, There he is filmed and projected onto a  screen in the “bar” performing  in his own way, dancing jumping, leaping with glee and showing us his love for life  and his love for this body which will soon be transformed into a withered useless lump of flesh.  Kelly has not staged him as a sad memory slumped into death but rather a positive image of this  wonderful man who loved life and attracted people to him. 

Tom Charlebois as Morrie inhabited his role beautifully.  He managed an east coast accent spotted with bits of  Yiddish that completed his on stage identity.  He accomplished his slow degeneration with much dignity and moments of great wit as his speaking became more laboured, his legs more difficult to move, his body more cumbersome and finally, he could no longer sit up. All the while he maintained an inner strength, and even a sense of humour as he tried to articulate his aphorisms that were meant to keep Mitch on track and not allow him to collapse into grief.  At one point, the sound design played the final notes of La Boheme, a rousing death roll that created a most powerful sense of  dramatic foreboding but  as soon as Morrie began talking again, the clouds dissipated and the old man was away on his own thoughts, trying to help the young Mitch define what he really wanted in life.  They  made a serious effort to avoid overflowing sentimentality and it seemed to work. The  distance that was established during the first part helped the actors maintain their moments of irony  and avoid maudlin emotions that would have been wrong in the final moments of the play.

David Whiteley no doubt had the most difficult job as young Mitch – the fun-loving student and later as the adult who appeared to have made his life successful.   Evolving from a carefree young man  who  enjoyed Morrie’s company but who was also obsessed with getting everything he could out of life,  he appeared to be completely oblivious to any emotional disturbance or to any situation that would come to change his happy relationship with this family and his wonderful old professor whom he loved dearly. Curiously,  Whiteley’s habitual lack of emotion on stage played into that cool image the  director seemed to be seeking  at first. However, as Morrie’ body evolved,  especially the final scenes where he  could only whisper, Whiteley was barely  able to speak himself and one felt that at last he reached a space of  grief that one would not have expected from this  actor.  At that moment, a sincere sense of loss came over us and the sadness was almost unbearable. David Whitely and Tom Charlebois formed a strong duo whose emotional and physical transformation fit together most beautifully.

Tuesdays with Morrie, directed by John P. Kelly,  continues until March 19, 2016. With Matinees on Sunday March 12, 13, 19 at 2h30 pm.  Seven-thirty Productions

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