All My Sons

As an adjective, "competent" has acquired an almost pejorative meaning in reviews; and that is a pity because, when joined with the still honorable adverb "highly," it forms a concise description of the Tufts College Theatre's All My Sons production. With a few exceptions, in balancing directions, the Tufts players show very steady ability that misses brilliance only because it is interpretive, not creative. Taking rather unsubtle characters, full of complexes but not complications, the cast generally reads with great intelligence and skill, but most of the actors do little to improve on Arthur Miller's material.

Only two members of the group really did much more than highly competent amateurs are liable to do. Leslie Cass, playing a girl who is at once sweet and likeable enough to be a focus for audience sympathy and tough enough to fight, even scheme, for her fiance, does very well. With her ambivalent character under fierce control, Miss Cass shapes much of the play despite the inherent vapidity of her role.

The other outstanding performer is Michael Plisko, who overcomes, with equal skill, a problem much different from Miss Cass's. Since his is the best role the play offers, it demands a superior ability, providing most of the plot's impetus and interest. Plisko gives a thoughtful performance, creating a character whose stature merits the two hour attention of an audience. Actually, he fills a slight gap left by Thomas Whedon, who plays a Christ-like figure (not unnaturally named Chris), described as one whose mere presence fills his friends with noble sentiments. Since this is a pretty hard role to fill, especially when limited to the generally false sounding lines that Miller provides, Whedon deserves much credit for making Chris extremely natural and likeable, mostly devoid of Miller's pomposity. But Whedon is not quite deft enough to give the role its proper proportions. He too often is content with a safe reading of his difficult lines, seldom rising very much above his "nice guy" interpretation.

Edith Steinberg, in a not too difficult role, strikes the mean for this production and is most able, but without real distinction. And just a cut below Miss Steinberg, but in considerably less difficult or lengthy roles, are Mary Crocker and Sol Schwade. The rest of the cast is less able, below the generally high standard, and lacking the extenuation of playing tough parts. However, only Theodore von Kamecke, III, who is asked to play a man considerably older than his own age, with just some talcum in his hair for support, seems actually to drag.

Being an arena theatre, the Tufts playhouse offers little chance for the show's technicians to shine. They didn't but there were lighting, scenery, costumes and the like--all, again, competent.

Director Otto Ashermann shows what appropriate casting, thoughtful pacing and balanced blocking can do. Calling on actors whose ages mostly fit the play's requirements very well and whose talents are equal, and sometimes superior to, their roles, Ashermann has constructed an edifying and enjoyable evening.