Michael Sheen Brings Warmth and Wit to a Welsh-Set Our Town
Thornton Wilder's classic American play Our Town has been transposed to Wales for the inaugural production of the new National Theatre Wales, with Michael Sheen heroically championing the project. While a revival of this great American drama about a provincial town north of New York might carry strong state-of-the-nation resonances in today's dark, Trumpian political climate, this Welsh adaptation initially seems counterintuitive. However, Wilder's play, which premiered in the inter-war years of 1938, proves to be more eternal than political, dramatising a close-knit community navigating life, love, and death with universal themes.
A Convincing Transposition with Welsh Spirit
The transposition to Wales is convincing in spirit, effectively encapsulating the lilt of Welshness through a noisier, more playful, and lyrical interpretation than the original. This is particularly evident in the glowing visual imagination and movement design by Jess Williams, complemented by the emotional lighting crafted by Ryan Joseph Stafford. The production comprises three acts and is emphatically aware of its theatricality, with Sheen taking on the role of the "stage manager" who guides the audience through the narrative.
Sheen, dressed in a waistcoat and watch-chain, is in his element, mixing mischievousness, earnestness, and bathos as he narrates, ruminates, and steps in to play various characters. The drama unfolds over three key periods: one morning in 1901, where we see the early bud of romance between young George Gibbs (played by Peter Devlin) and Emily Webb (Yasemin Özdemir); three years later, when that romance blooms into marriage; and the final act, which jumps to the town's cemetery in 1913, dealing with untimely death.
Abundant Physicality and Magical Moments
The set of Our Town is traditionally empty, filled mainly by the stage manager's descriptions, and Hayley Grindle's design is well-arranged to engage our imaginations. Props are used with economy, such as wooden planks that make up the edifice of the town but are reused in expressionist ways. Overall, it is a handsome production filled with abundant physicality, and some moments spark with magic, creating a visually engaging experience.
However, the production faces broader inconsistencies. While it feels Welsh in spirit and look—with period costumes, Welsh accents, and names—its reference points remain predominantly American. The town is depicted as mostly Republican, with mentions of New Hampshire, the American Constitution, the Louisiana Purchase, and high school. This lends an unreal quality to the production, unhinged from its original geography yet still locked into it, leaving audiences wondering if the long strip of azure sky in the backdrop belongs to the Welsh valleys or American mountains.
Yearning for More Welshness and Emotional Depth
Directed by Francesca Goodridge, with Russell T Davies as creative associate, Grover's Corner contains the romance and nostalgia of a bygone community, reminiscent of Dylan Thomas's fishing village of Llareggub in Under Milk Wood—a play Sheen starred in at the National Theatre. Thomas was said to have known Wilder and this play, adding a layer of literary connection. Yet, the first two acts lack Thomas's deft play of darkness and light, the romantic and bitterly tragic elements. There is too much light and warmth, not enough tension or conflict, making the community seem like The Waltons in south Wales until the final, shortest act.
When darkness does arrive, it brings a ghostly scene reminiscent of A Christmas Carol, where the dead talk to each other like Greek gods, impervious to human vulnerability and suffering. This is an interesting interpretation but can feel emotionally distancing. Grover's Corner is portrayed as a nice town where no one remarkable ever came out, suggesting it throttles anything out of the ordinary. This point is made through a fantastically deft piece of mime involving the town drunk, Simon (Rhys Warrington), insinuating him as a closeted gay man trapped by small-town mores.
A Moral Lesson on Ordinary Life
The "ordinariness" of the town carries a moral lesson: to relish the gloriously quotidian moments in life. It's sentimental, akin to a version of It's a Wonderful Life, but without the sense of ecstatic uplift at the end. The narrator reflects, "You're 21, you're 22, and whack, you're 70," delivering a finger-wagging message that works effectively. The production urges audiences to look up and drink in ordinary life because it goes too fast—a poignant warning wrapped in heartfelt storytelling.
Our Town runs until 31 January at the Swansea Grand before embarking on a tour, offering a unique Welsh twist on a timeless classic that, despite its emotional uncertainties, resonates with warmth and wit.
