Ford's Theatre - Twelve Angry Men

It seems like I have a bona fide tradition here of attending a play at Ford's Theatre to celebrate my birthday.  In 2016, it was "The Glass Menagerie".  In 2017, it was "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf".  And in 2018, it was "Death of a Salesman".  Ford's seems to always produce classics of the American Theater at this time of year.

Today is was "Twelve Angry Men" by Reginald Rose.  An amazing piece of writing that holds up well, even for this Crime Scene Procedural aficionado, which is quite a propos given that "Twelve Angry Men" is often cited as the very play that gave birth to the entire genre.  Once again I must also confess that while I was aware of the play's existence and could even name half of the actors in the original 1957 film, I had seen neither.  Ergo, the entire thing was completely new to me.

Before getting into the meat of this production I want to hand out my first compliment.  The set design was stunning.  Tall squared columns made of concrete with ambiguous lattice covered windows and a large central table around which the actors sat (when they sat) that had the definite impression of the human heart.  The jury room was like a prison in which resides the human heart.  I may be the only one who got this interpretation, but I don't think I'm mistaken.  Tossed in some traditional elements like a one rich wood grained framed window and the door to match, both with frosted glass, and you a classic jury room transformed into the perfect metaphor.  The implication served well the magnificence of the performances.

I am pretty certain that the original included no black actors--I guess Sidney Poitier was otherwise engaged...  This production was made of a cast divided down the middle between black and white men.  The racial elements in the plot took on an incendiary power as a result, and the cast did not shy away from this.  I can only hope that the author would have been thrilled by this casting.  Seeing it performed this way, it's even hard to imagine that it was not written with this intention in mind.

To even take it to the next level, the role of the chief protagonist, Juror #8, was played by black actor, Erik King (Henry Fonda in the movie), and that of the chief antagonist, Juror #3, by white actor, Michael Russotto (Lee J. Cobb in the movie).  Additionally the first 5 jurors to fold were all black and the last 6 were white.  I don't know what side of political correctness all this falls on, but for drama, it was intensely powerful.  Add to that the fact that so many of the actors were chosen from the cream of the local crop, and honestly, it was as perfect a telling of this tale as I can imagine.

The aforementioned Erik King and Michael Russotto were spellbinding in their commitment to their characters.  Elan Zafir as Juror #10 who delivers the most biting and unapologetic racist diatribe midway through the second act was searing in his presentation.  But perhaps my favorite was Sean Maurice Lynch's embodiment of Juror #2, the idiosyncratic bank teller who's demure, at times pedantic, personality erupts after one too many put downs by his fellow jurors.  There was never a moment when I wasn't sitting on the edge of my seat, and I can tell you that I was the first person of a majority to rise to my feet in ovation when the final scene ended.