“…a shocking and heart-breaking production that should be felt as much as seen…”

I remember John Steinbeck’s novella, Of Mice and Men, being read to us bored and cynical kids doing our O level English (yes, I’m that old). We half-dozed as the teacher did her best attempt at an American accent and we wondered why on earth we’d been listening, for weeks, to this totally irrelevant book about poor American labourers set in God-knows-when times.

Then, when she finally reached and read the last few pages and we all, as one, sat up in our chairs, eyes widened, mouths dropped open.

You could have heard a pin drop as we took in the ending.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d just been introduced to real literature for the first time. I’d read classy books before, of course – Lord of the Rings and all that – but in those stories the good guys were good and always won, the bad guys were always bad and always lost. Of Mice and Men introduced me to the real world where characters are complicated and life is messy. All of us in that class were changed forever that day. We knew then that dreams don’t always come true, no matter how hard you work and what your best intentions are.

From the moment I stepped into the auditorium at Theatre by the Lake, I knew we would be seeing something just as special.

The set design by Jess Curtis is simple but has all the feels of ‘you’re about to watch something deep and meaningful’ about it. This was confirmed by the opening ‘introduction’ of all the actors and director that set the tone for the evening.

The story that follows – that of two labourers during the Great Depression, seeking both farm work and a realisation of their dreams – is largely true to the original. There are some practical changes and condensation of scenes but nothing drastic. Perhaps the only change that is significant is that the character of Curly’s wife, played superbly by Emma Charlton, is made much more empathetic in this version. While the character in both book and play is never granted a name (a sign of her demeaned status among the men of the farm), we get to understand something of her own hopes, dreams and fears. It’s an excellent adaptation that brings greater warmth to the story.

While the two central characters of George and Lennie are, of course, the focus of the play, I found myself particularly drawn to Slim, played by Laurence Pears – a character who is ‘nice’ in the book and thus easily ignored. Pears gives the character strength, dignity, nobility and a fine intelligence that gives Slim the prominence he deserves. This is someone just can’t help but like and admire and I find it difficult to work out if that’s the character or actor responsible. That’s just about as fine a compliment as I can give to a performer.

An aspect of this production that must be mentioned is the inclusion of many lived-experience performers.

The actor playing Candy, Ben Wilson, is blind. Jeff Alexander, playing Crooks, has had a major back injury. The two actors playing Lennie, William Young and Luke Richards, are both learning disabled. The obvious authenticity this adds to the story is obvious as you watch it. Ben Wilson performs brilliantly and with absolute confidence on the stage. William Young – Lennie for the performance I saw – brought out the character’s difficulties perfectly.

The success of a production of this story lies heavily on one man though. The character of George has to be portrayed correctly or you simply won’t become attached to this strange ‘family’ of hard men – essential if the ending is going to hit you hard, as it should. Liam King does a great job here, allowing us to understand both the exasperation George feels over Lennie and the great love he has for the man. He’s youthful and his dreams make sense. He’s hardened by the harsh reality of life. His loyalty to Lennie is undeniable. It’s not easy to take the ideas off the page and make them believable on the stage. King succeeds admirably.

The success of this production you could measure at the end.

When the lights fell, you could hear a pin drop and I was again transported to the feels of those days forty years ago when my classroom was stunned. There were audible gasps as the lights rose when some people, who clearly did not know what was coming, started to realise just what they’d seen.

If you don’t know this classic novella, keep it that way until you’ve seen this production. Then you can feel the full force of Steinbeck’s brilliant storytelling. If you do know the story, this is still worth seeing to make real the ‘other’ plotline – that of how hardworking men, hardened by tough times and lifestyles, find friendship and meaning in their lives. You do come away caring for these guys (perhaps not Curley, the brattish son of the boss with a chip on his shoulder – played with great menace by Stefan Race) and their suffering makes a deep impression on you that lasts long after you’ve left the theatre.

This is a shocking and heart-breaking production that should be felt as much as seen.

Ken Powell is chief editor for Northern Arts Review and is also a bestselling author and writer for various publications around the world. A former school teacher, he continues to write educational books along with fiction and travelogues. You can find all his books and various websites here including his popular TEDx talk about the Global Village. He lives with his family in a wonderfully isolated village in West Cumbria where he enjoys drinking tea, chatting with the birds and winding up his dog. You can support his work (or just buy him a coffee) here.