When a theater company tackles something as weighty as a Eugene O’Neill play, it doesn’t forge ahead lightly. That was evident with the Goodman Theater’s “major revival” of The Iceman Cometh, which received such popular critical notices and audience reaction that its run has been extended. The Chicago production is directed by the notable Robert Falls.
The star-studded show includes Broadway and film stars Nathan Lane, in the pivotal role of Theodore (“Hickey”) Hickman, a traveling salesman; and Brian Dennehy as Larry Slade, one of the main occupant’s of Harry Hope’s saloon in New York City.
Aside from the celebrity talent, the Goodman cast boasts 16 additional actors. Some actors were local, while others were flown in from east and west. Since the play’s locale is a run-down bar populated by a community of deadbeats, boors, drunks and fatalists, the ensemble must be fine-tuned to perfection. This production, directed by Robert Falls, comes close.
The show opens in the semi-darkness of Harry’s saloon. While the bar seems fairly full of people, there is little noise or movement. Most of the visitors already have passed out. As the lights gradually come up (but not by much), the audience is treated to a long monologue by one of the bar’s regulars, Larry Slade (Dennehy). This actor has always seemed to be, at least to this reviewer, a mountain of a man. Here, he slouches in his chair, occasionally propping his head on one arm. Dennehy brings a solemn strength to his character, even as Slade claims he is only waiting for Death to arrive. When Dennehy is not directly involved in the action, he stars straight ahead at the audience. His chiseled face reminds one of Mt. Rushmore.
Eventually, the other characters stir to life. Although they have their own reasons for ending up at Harry’s bar, none nails their situation as well as Slade. He calls the place, “the No Chance Saloon, Bedrock Bar, the End of the Line Café . . . Where people don’t worry about where they are going next, because there is no further they can go.”
The one constant binding these characters is the imminent annual arrival of Hickey, a glad-handing salesman who’s always good for a joke and a gag. Hickey typically brings enough cash for everyone to get even drunker than they already are. In these parts, Hickey’s arrival is anticipated as much as Christmas, the Fourth of July and New Year’s Eve, all rolled into one. It takes Hickey quite awhile to appear. However, since the show clocks in at almost five hours, there’s no need to rush. This time, Hickey’s arrival is greeted more with suspicion than enthusiasm. Hickey announces that he has given up drinking and has completely turned his life around. His mission is to share his joy with others, who must first “give up their pipe dreams,” as Hickey says about a dozen too many times. This change in behavior doesn’t sit well with Harry’s crowd, and there is much speculation about the changes they see in their old friend. The more Harry pushes his mates to clean up their act, the more they rebel. The costumes play a big part in telling O’Neill’s story. While most of the men’s costumes seem rumpled and baggy, Hickey arrives in a nicely tailored suit and snappy straw hat. Against the colorless garb worn by the other men, the play’s few women are dressed in gaudy, form-fitting outfits. Women generally don’t fare well in O’Neill’s plays, and that’s certainly the case in The Iceman Cometh. When Harry laments the passing of his “dear wife” some 20 years earlier, it is Hickey who reminds him that, in reality, the two “fought like cats and dogs.” Whatever the circumstances may have been, Harry uses it as an excuse to stay inside his bar since the day she died.
Audiences looking for a “different” Nathan Lane from the funnyman they are used to are rewarded by a talented actor who completely immerses himself in his part. Never once does he display a glimmer of his past comic roles. Although one might guess that Hickey’s upbeat arrival might play to Lane’s strengths, Lane shows incredible skill in Hickey’s slow descent at the end of the play. Some last-minute revelations are foreshadowed, but Lane does his best to keep up his peppy patter until nearly the end.
As this Iceman neared the end of its run, Chicagoans were left wondering about the play’s future. There was much “on again-off again” discussion in the press about whether or not the show would transfer to Broadway. As of this writing, the play – like the characters in it – lives in limbo. If producers can figure out a way to make the production profitable – even if its length probably means fewer than eight shows a week – it may well head for the Great White Way.
