- Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones and Daisy and Hoke in Alfred Uhry play, revived at the Golden Theatre
by Sam Juliano
What evolved from an innocuous enough beginning on an off-Broadway stage, has now achieved the ultimate validation in a production at the Golden Theatre that has attracted two of the last remaining acting icons in a production that has pleased both the audiences and the critics. To assert that Driving Miss Daisy, written by southern playright Alfred Uhry, is anything more than what it is -a slight chamber drama with some some surprising character chemistry forged by a funny and often affecting clash of wills, would not only serve to overstate the work’s intent, but also to strip bare the fascinating underpinnings that make the metamorphosis of an unlikely relationship so believable and so stirring.
English theatre icon Vanessa Redgrave and the towering African-American thespian James Earl Jones almost seem tailor-made for the casting that has yielded a solid incarnation of a cranky and dictatorial Jewish-American matriarch named Daisy Werthan, whose years as a driver and self-imposed recluse have forced some concessions due to physical shortcomings imposed by aging, and Hoke Coleburn an equally headstrong driver, who uses various tactics like flattery and small-talk to wear down his new emplyer’s initial resistence to be driven. Coleburn was hired by Miss Daisy’s son, Boolie, (played here wonderfully by Boyd Gaines, though the tableux structure of the revival doesn’t allow for the kind of profound humanity that was projected by Dan Alroyd in the 1989 film version that famously -or infamously for some- captured the Best Picture Oscar) a successful Georgia businessman, who is as devoted to his mother as he is towards his career sustaining a family business. To offset the extreme minimalism of David Esbjornson’s staging, which features a sepia box, spare furniture, a few chairs and a staircase to replicate the driving experience, Gaines accentuates some of the play’s humorous lines in broad flourishes, while his renowed co-star Jones employs his sonerous, bass-heavy voice to beguile the audience with his own transcription of lines that over the years have become ingrained in the memory. It can well be argued that Jones’ stage presence and booming delivery are ill-suited to this character (far more subtlety evoked by Morgan Freeman in Bruce Beresford’s film) and that he exaggerates his subserviance to the point where he becomes a caricature. Jones shares some of the work’s most memorable lines with Redgrave, but there’s no denying his approach is far more bombastic than the one taken by Freeman, who used a more cerebral approach culled from the wisdom that comes from experience. Redgrave dosen’t even attempt the homespun Southern accent perfected by Jessica Tandy, but instead imparts a rural twang that does suggest a small town dialect, even if not one that firmly roots the film in it’s specific locale. Redgrave’s gait, demeanor and walk are far more suggestive of the character than her non-descriptive voice. At times her volume in muted and she speaks to fast as in the instance near the beginning when she ribs her son for socializing with Episcopalians. The episodic nature of the stage progression may well be less resonant than the linear movement managed by the film version, and as a result Redgrave can never get completely into the skin of her character the way Tandy did, coming off as meaner and more resistent to the change that eventually gives Daisy and the relationship more emotional heft. She lacks the upper-class mannerisms of her aging southern character, though discipline and an instinct for survival are effectively projected. By the time Redgrave tells Boolie to “charm the nurses” in the play’s moving finale, one is well enough convinced the character has been more than adequately interpreted.
Esbjornson seems to purposely avoid giving the work a more intense focus, and a firmer foothold to avoid bogging this obvious audience-pleaser with the wistful austerity that marked the earlier stage version and the film. The reason of course is not to compromise the play’s major selling point and the reason why audiences keep coming back to it: the irresistible one-liners that are almost a guilty pleasure of sorts. They are almost always rooted in racial stereotypes (like the funny scene when Daisy erroneously accuses Hoke of stealing a can of salmon from her cupboard, telling her son “you know how they all are”) or disparities of class and social status. But this has always been the play’s appeal, and taken within that context, they provide for an entertainment that at least in the film version allowed for some valid emotion and some universal truths.
Uhry can never be blamed for taking the easy road. Hence Miss Daisy often reflects on her difficult childhood and the years she struggled as a schoolteacher, but she’s not a magnanimous soul, and seldom smiles. She even criticizes the modest salary Hoke receives directly from Boolie (she begrudgingly refers to it as “highway robbery”) but slowly, Hoke reaches her and removes her predilection for suspicion and isolation. Still, she retains her unforgiving nature to the end. Uhry even suggests that Miss Daisy is socially constricted to ever fully accept Hoke as her equal despite her impassioned attendance at a Martin Luther King rally, and the bombing of the synagogue that Boolie has been driving her to. (again this aspect was more intricately delineated in the film version). A sizable critical minority have always taken issue with the social status of the central relationship, which doesn’t conceal the larger picture, in which blacks are treated as second-rate citizens. Uhry’s aim was to present the prevailing social mores of the time and not to pass judgement on the changes brought on by time and social unrest. Interestingly enough, director Spike Lee was highly critical of the film as well, as he felt it painted blacks in a bad light, and promoted the (aforementioned) typical stereotypes. Yet, there’s an undeniable universality in the story of a person who changes after dealing with the the long-held object of racial disdain and mistrust head-on, opening one’s eyes to the other side of the human coin. Basically in a sociological sense the play presents a kind of overview of the changing values and times in the South, spanning as it does from 1948 to 1972, while inevitally alluding to racism and prejudice. If a viewer can set aside the social constrictions and the unflattering stereotypes, and allow the unlikely bonding and valid friendship take hold, this admittedly slight material can develop into something much more a series of one line zingers and an unlikely instance of bonding. At it’s barest it’s a story of friendship.
Warts and all, the Golden Theatre production does nothing seriously harmful to upend that tradition.
Note: Lucille, Broadway Bob and I attended the Thursday evening (February 3) performance at the intimate Golden Theatre on 45th Street. We enjoyed a late night dinner at the Dish afterwards.
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Great review, Sam. I saw a stage production of this years ago (not with such a famous cast, however!) which I think was also minimalist in its staging. I don’t remember it all that well now but have a feeling it worked well on stage because of it being a “slight chamber drama”, as you say.
Thanks Judy! Yes, I can’t see how this production could ever really ‘open up’ on the stage, though of course Bruce Beresford did a marvelous job using locales in the film version, which in large measure eschewed the chamber underpinnings. Sometimes productions without major players are more memorable and accomplished than those with the celebrated names. That’s certainly food for thought.
I never cared for the premise of this drama, Sam, and, despite the polite even-handedness of your review above, I think that you are of a similar opinion. Still, it is always tempting to want to see actors like Ms. Redgrave and Mr. Jones go about their work. I have certainly been tempted in this manner before, even if the plays tend to be more slight & cosy in their outlook as a result.
I note your point on the play’s episodic nature suffering a little in terms of its sense of continuity. For that same reason, I am not a big fan of this structure either. However, I have found that skilful scene transitions can help to overcome this, e.g. enhancing the fluidity of the piece and allowing the audience to adjust to the fact that there may be a gap of some months or years between consecutive scenes (e.g. the setting goes from winter to summer). However, it is often with respect to matters such as this that the quality of the play’s direction can stand or fall.
Longman, I have to say I like this work more than I am letting on here, and have militantly defended the film version, which for all intents and purposes was better than any stage incarnation, including this on. Ironic too, since Uhrey’s work was written of course for the stage. What Beresford did with the film was to utilize the homespun nature of the material, employing lovely Georgia locations and imbuing the film with an elegian undercurrent. His use for example of Dvorak’s lovely “Hymn to the Moon” from the opera RUSALKA as an aural underpinning for a montage of visuals that emphasized flowers, weather and rustic abodes, effectively accentuated the mood that Uhry hoped to impart on the stage. When you speak of continuity, transition and episodic structure, again these are precisely what I am referring to when I say film is usually better suited to negotiate this challenge. The stage version is more like a series of interconnected vignettes, which well enough delineates characters and relationship, but is largely unable to bring together other aesthetic elements that allow the work to resonate and move on a higher level. Great actors like Redgrace, Jones and Gaines have more than a few tricks up their sleeves, but this work has never received stronger validation that what it received from Beresford, Tandy, Freeman, Akroyd, et al.
Many thanks for this tremendous comment my friend.
Sam,
I remember the movie was entertaining but I also felt a bit manipulated by it all which left me uncomfortable. Still, the opportunity to see Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones is such a rare occasion, well I would be happy just watching them do the laundry.
I hear ya John. When they originally announced these icons, ticket sales were brisk. I was frankly surprised that the play came up last week on TDF (I paid $35 instead of $130) but it’s all timing and the spate of bad weather we’ve suffered through up here. You are not the only one who has cited manipulation, and it’s larger issues have pretty much divided audiences, even if the film was very well reviewed. As you say, anything featuring these aging legends is something to persue vigurously.
Many thanks my friend!
As I mentioned in your film review from many months ago Driving Miss Daisy recalls Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias. But what we have in the film is not necessarily what we’ll see on stage. To look at it in sociological terms, and to find fault with the premise is to miss the larger point. I think you framed it perfectly there in another review of depth and insight. It’s a simple story about how an unlikely friendship can transcend generations, and stand as a testament to the human spirit. Seems like Redgrave was good, but not of the caliber you would normally expect from this titan. Same for Jones as I read it.
That was a great comment you left many months ago Frank, and you’ve entered a wonderful encore here.
“It’s a simple story about how an unlikely friendship can transcend generations, and stand as a testament to the human spirit.”
Beautifully said my friend, and I couldn’t agree more. The question is, however, whether this particular stage version, big names and all, managed to convey those sentiments. The film did for sure, but this production offers up mixed results.
Yes, both were distinguished, but for various reasons, which I elaborated on in the review, not as fuuny nor as moving as Tandy and Freeman.
I love Vanessa, but I can’t see her as Daisy. Tandy was different as there was a homespun vulnerability. Vanessa is too polished, too mannered.
Happy to see you all had a great time Sam. Outstanding review.
Karen, thanks so much for stopping by. Hope all is well with you. Yes, I think you’ve framed it perfectly with Tandy’s ‘homespun vulnerability.’ Vanessa is one of our greatest actresses, but yeah, she comes with a bit of baggage to this particular role. It was a fun time for all, that’s for sure.
The film was deceptively potent for what it was, and I always credit Tandy and Freeman as the major force behind it. So Redgrave and Jones didn’t quite reach this level then?
Frederick, as I stated in other responses here, I felt that Tandy was better equipped to take on the tics and mannerisms of Daisy Werthan, and that Freeman was more cerebral and wistful than Jones, who is often bombastic.
Many thanks my friend.
Sam – Oh, I wish I could have been in the audience for the presentation of Driving Miss Daisy with these two extraordinary actors. I appreciate this recap — thank you!
Aye, Laurie. The work is so renowned, and so many of the lines are beloved both from the film and the previous productions, that it’s always irrestible to have such a revered play being done by these titans of the theatre. I would not have paid $130 for a ticket (if I did I would deserve institutional commitment! Ha!) but for $35, all things considered, this was a steal. The audience you speak of, by the way, was fully animated, and were laughing at every chance they got, a sure sign of familiarity and love for the material.
Many thanks my great friend!
Great review here Sam, this must have been quite a treat. You know my feelings on the film version are in the negative, but as others have mentioned, these two actors make this seemingly worthwhile.
I do remember your sentiments well Jamie, and let’s just say that Allan’s are even more to the negative extreme. He once even had his (lovely) mother get on the phone to tell me how much she abhored the film, and conveyed to me how much his good friend Martyn thought it was drivel. I know what I’m up against, but I can never underestimate that ‘taste’ is a major factor here, though the acknowledged stereotyping is understandably offensive for some. I have been able to get beyond that, but admittedly many are not.
Many thanks for the kind words my very good friend and WitD colleague!
I think you did an exceptional job Sam, in conveying this work’s considerable delights, but not losing sight of the fact that overall this wasn’t one of the top-flight productions. I’ve always had a fondness for the film as you know.