
My brother's wife, Lynda, is noticeably thinner and walking with greater care. She has completely lost all feeling in her lower legs now and can no longer tell when her feet strike the ground. But she hasn't lost her sense of humour or her joy in living.
She has multiple sclerosis and it has begun a more rapid advance. A head nurse at the top of her career, she has just been ordered by her doctor to cut back to part time. The stress of work is exasperating her illness. Meanwhile they have a son in pre-law at University and bills to pay.
She was diagnosed with MS after the birth of her son and told she must never have more children. For many years it was in remission, but she has always known it would return as she aged. As a nurse, she knows all the clinical details and has long since made peace with the hard facts of her life.
But my Linda and I are out with my brother and his wife for a good time, a night at the theatre. We are going to see Twelve Angry Men at the Princess of Wales theatre in downtown Toronto. The Princess of Wales is a 2000-seat theatre located on King Street West in the heart of Toronto's Entertainment District.
The theatre's name has a triple meaning: it recalls the Princess Theatre, Toronto's first "first-class legitimate" playhouse, that once stood three blocks to the east; it honours Diana, Princess of Wales, with whose consent the theatre was so-named; and it links the building to its sister-theatre, the Royal Alexandra, one block to the east, also named for a former Princess of Wales.
We're going to see Twelve Angry Men staring Richard Thomas, the Walton's John Boy all grown up. My wife was thrilled to see that Juror number 6 (none of the men have names) is Kevin Dobson, Telly Savalas side kick from the old Kojak TV show.
There is no curtain, so we have a long time to study the set before the play begins. The theatre is luxurious and in sharp contrast to the stark and grubby 1950's jury room where the action of the play takes place. It is a very realistic set and rain beats against the windows when a storm arrives, mirroring the emotional storm brewing in the room.
At one and a half hours in length the play runs without intermission.
As one reviewer writes: "A seemingly simple case with a seemingly obvious outcome is thrown into question when an architect dares to challenge his fellow jurors’ preconceptions. A big hit for Mirvish when it played here in January, this production by New York’s Roundabout Theatre Company is remarkable for its strong direction and acting—especially Richard Thomas’ performance as cautious Juror #8."
Thomas' acting is a delight and it might be easy to miss its strength because the role is quietly underplayed. While the other jurors rage and scream and come, one by one, face to face with their own demons, Thomas is the quiet and reasoning centre of all the action. His most telling lines are almost whispered.
Juror number 3 is his diametric opposite and gets all the great histrionics to play, brilliantly I might add. He charges about the stage, challenging, threatening and bullying the others into submission. His discovery of what lies behind his desperation for a guilty verdict, provides the emotional climax of the play.
We were royally entertained and it was fun sharing insights as we walked back to Union Station to catch the GO train home. Lynda walks slowly, placing her feet with great care, her husband tightly holding her arm. She is doing her best but she can hear the clock ticking inside her head, we have 15 minutes before the GO train leaves, and if we miss it there is an hour to wait for the next one.
But, as it happens, we do make the train.
There are two great joys that come from talking about a play after the performance, the first is discovering others had noticed things you missed, and the other is discovering where you all had come to the same judgment.
We all agreed Twelve Angry Men was great entertainment and as relevant today as it was back in 1950.
