Sept. 28--"Two stories have haunted us and followed us from our beginning," wrote John Steinbeck in his 1952 novel "East of Eden," a tempestuous biblical allegory and familial saga set in the Central Valley of California during the first two decades of the 20th century, just before the rise of refrigeration made the Salinas Valley the "Salad Bowl of the World." "We carry them along with us like invisible tails -- the story of original sin and the story of Cain and Abel."
I really hope my two young sons beg to differ, but Steinbeck, who based "East of Eden" partly on his own family history, certainly carried those narratives in his backpack. And the abiding popularity of this novel is testimony, surely, to the force of that statement. Despite it carrying detractors from its first moment of publication, it has been a movie starring James Dean, the inaugural "aha moment" of Oprah Winfrey's classics-only book club and now a new, dramatic experience at the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago, flowing from a fruitful partnership between the adapter, Frank Galati, and the director, Terry Kinney.
The twin uber-theme is asserted by a wise Steinbeck man named Samuel (played here by Francis Guinan), who has watched a wealthy man named Adam Trask (Tim Hopper) fall in love with a fallen woman, Cathy (Kate Arrington), who neither feels love nor sees beauty, and who would rather shoot her husband than be made to confront her own deficiencies.
But biology being an imperative of all human stories, she who cannot love has given birth to twin sons: Caleb (Aaron Himelstein) and Aron (Casey Thomas Brown). They grow up with a physically absent mother whose (non-)presence informs their lives as surely as it does that of their hapless father, left to raise his boys with the help only of his longtime "man." Adam's friend and server, Lee (Stephen Park), is a wise fellow from China, and the only one of Steinbeck's characters to really understand what it means to love and to self-actualize, and to come armed with some weapons against the fate that we become exactly like our moms. With bits of our dad.
As anyone who recalls Galati's famous Steppenwolf adaptation of "The Grapes of Wrath" (a production that defined Steppenwolf for a national audience) will know, the former Northwestern University professor and Academy Award nominee is a Steinbeck authority of longtime standing. This time Galati has left the directing to Kinney, the Steppenwolf co-founder who was an actor in "Grapes." This is thus a moment imbued with some Steppenwolf history.
I think Galati's new adaptation is a significant achievement and, for fans of this great artist and this company, not to be missed. Similarly, Kinney has a plethora of accomplishments here in an embrace-the-epic show that is beautifully designed by Walt Spangler -- a huge tree dominates the vistas, and you feel the passing of the years and the dominance of the natural.
"East of Eden" is by no means an easy novel to contain on any stage. Yet you'll never see a more credible onstage childbirth than the one here where Arrington's Cathy gives birth, aided by Guinan's Samuel. The lighting in this production -- by David Weiner -- is similarly exceptional, often bathing the characters in illumination as potentially celestial as it is Californian. "East of Eden" is full of such thunderous metaphors; to render them with such humanity, live and in person, is no easy task.
Galati is clearly fond, perhaps a tad too fond, of Steinbeck's words -- the original novel is full of dialogue -- which accounts for a lengthy running time earned everywhere but in the third act, which has pacing issues. But the adapter also has made some subtle shifts that anyone who loves this novel will appreciate.
For example, the inherent stereotype of the aphorism-spouting Lee is leavened by Kinney's close attention and Park's subtle performance; the relationship between Adam and Lee reads in this version more like that of a supportive gay couple going quietly through life in mutual love, which was not much discussed in 1953. It is a subtle but quite lovely change, and it is far from the only layer in a production that also features a fascinating performance from Guinan and rich work from the trio of young people in the show (Brittany Uomoleale plays Abra, a love interest, if that's the word, for the twins). There are few false notes, despite the allegorical weight of everything. Indeed, I found myself consistently compelled by a suite of empathetic figures. Struggling as we humans do.
"Grapes" was described by my predecessor, Richard Christiansen, as needing more work when it first was produced in Chicago, and I'd say the same about "East of Eden."
Arrington, a gutsy actress never afraid of emotional risk, has one tough assignment here, given that she's playing a character who appears to have lost (or never had much of) what makes us human. That absence (and, Lord, it is difficult for an actor to play lacking) comes off here as something like youthful petulance -- one is put in mind of a dead-eyed pop star. That is one way into the woman, for sure, and it works some of the time. But dead-eyed Cathy is a journey for a fine actress that is not yet complete.
I'd say the same about Hopper, whose Adam is inscrutable and neutral. Both of those are actually qualities of a Steinbeck man who relishes no fights. But we're also told, time and again, of his inherent goodness. That is the Edenic dimension that Hopper has yet to find -- as you watch at this juncture, you might wonder why his sons love this man so. There is a requisite, active softness somehow missing from the performance.
Neither Arrington nor Hopper is miscast -- both just have work left to do, as does Himelstein, whose youthful crisis becomes the core of the third act as he manifests those two crucial questions: Must he better and thus destroy his brother? And is he man enough to take responsibility for those actions?
I suspect some will find what has been wrought at Steppenwolf to be a bit heavy-handed (the show has intentionally meditative transitions and has been scored for cello and harp; there are the inherent dangers of reduction given the heavenly connotations of the harp). Frankly, those have been the charges consistently leveled by critics of the novel, by those who don't see "Eden" as the equal of, say, "Of Mice and Men." So some engagement with matters weighty and allegorical was crucial. Sure, there are some moments when the inexorable, Emile Zola-like transitions cross the line. The text needs a trim. But these issues are far outweighed by the human truths on display. Truths that earn their keep.
This is an important Steppenwolf show, and already a quite good one. A great one may yet emerge in the valley of possibility. Assuming you believe in the book.
Chris Jones is a Tribune critic.
cjones5@tribpub.com
3 STARS
When: Through Nov. 15
Where: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St.
Running time: 3 hours
Tickets: $20-$89 at 312-335-1650 or www.steppenwolf.org
