The Grapes of Wrath – National Theatre, London

John Steinbeck’s epic Dust Bowl novel The Grapes of Wrath gets a solid National Theatre treatment with a US theatrical pedigree. A critical story for us to reflect on as we respond to increased economic and climate migration.

The Grapes of Wrath

Firstly I would like to implore you, if you have never read The Grapes of Wrath or seen an adaptation, to go in cold. Don’t cram it before you attend. Don’t read Wikipedia to see what it’s all about. Be like me (and most audiences so far, apparently) and let yourself be shocked into silence by the ending. It’s what John Steinbeck would have wanted.

OK, with that done, let’s take a step back. The Grapes of Wrath is a title you may have heard bandied about. It refers, as you gathered above, to a 1939 novel by American author John Steinbeck. It takes as its subject one family navigating the hardship, destitution and hope of the 1930s Dust Bowl. What was the Dust Bowl? It was a combination of agricultural mismanagement, climactic factors and insufficient response which devastated the American and Canadian prairies. Overworked topsoil literally created enormous storms of dust, making it impossible to keep farming the land. Relief, like that for the Great Depression generally, initially reached corporations and landlords rather than tenant farmers and employees. Millions were displaced seeking work elsewhere. If you think of Dorothea Lange’s photographs, you’ll have an idea of the poverty and suffering.

Steinbeck actually worked alongside Lange, creating photo essays documenting the disaster. At his wife’s urging, however, Steinbeck also fictionalised what he learned about the Dust Bowl. The Grapes of Wrath is not his only work on the subject – Of Mice and Men is another. But it is the most famous, and arguably the most political.

The National Theatre’s production of The Grapes of Wrath utilises a 1988 adaptation by Frank Galati. It debuted at the famous Steppenwolf Theatre in Chicago, and was actually at the National Theatre as early as 1989. The play, at just under three hours, is every bit as epic as the book (at 130,000+ words). But as the next bit of analysis shows, I don’t think it can be any other way. And at least it starts early(ish) at 7PM.

An Epic Tale of Sorrow and Suffering

The Grapes of Wrath follows the Joad family as they make their way from Oklahoma to California. Son Tom is just out of prison. Daughter Rose of Sharon is newly married and pregnant. There are grandparents, an uncle, children, a preacher Tom picks up along the way. You wouldn’t think they would all fit into a car (or a jalopy, really) but somehow they do. They have about as good a time as you would imagine: one of the challenges with staging the play is that aside from a few moments of levity and action, it’s mostly unrelenting misery. This doesn’t always give enough variation in the energy to keep the audience engaged, although it picks up in the second half.

Aside from one definite import in the form of Cherry Jones in the role of Ma Joad, the programme would lead me to believe that the rest of the cast is local. That they are able to pull off such a quintessentially American story is impressive, even if the American accents hit the odd bum note. But I think the key to Steinbeck’s story and Galati’s adaptation is the elevation of a historically specific story into something more epic and universal. There are religious themes, political criticism, and an appeal to a shared humanity. I assume the parallel we are to draw in our current context is the increase we see already in forced economic and climate migration, and how quick many of us are to overlook that shared humanity and assume it could never happen to us.

One criticism of Steinbeck’s work was the way that it erased, even unintentionally, the Black migrants of the Dust Bowl. The casting here is somewhat colour-blind, but in an otherwise fairly historically accurate production this is not straightforward. Natey Jones does an excellent job playing former preacher Jim Casy, for instance. But if we are to commit to understanding his interpretation of the character as Black, these are presumably progressive Okies indeed…? I almost would have found it easier to parse if the colour-blind casting reached into the Joad family itself.

But Oh, What a Set

What is undeniable, however, is how great the design of this production is. The play opens with a couple of scene-setting, dialogue-free moments. People illuminated by stark beams of light, struggling against howling dust storms. Above them hangs a screen which for most of the play represents the oppressive grey of the decimated landscape. The stage is otherwise stripped right back to the wings. Just like for the Joads, there is no shelter, no safety, nowhere else to go. Alex Eales’ design is really wonderful. And will surprise you: one of the rare moments of levity in the first half is enabled by a clever bit of set design.

And, in a move that reminded me of George, which I saw at the Omnibus Theatre, the minimalist set design combines with a maximilist approach to props for best effect. That old Jalopy the Joads are heading to California in is there in all its glory. There are old quilts and tired chairs – the remaining positions of the dispossessed.

And I can’t reasonably finish up without saying something about the cast. Although there are some bigger roles, the story of shared hardship makes it an ensemble piece. The standard of the acting is excellent, but Naty Jones’ crisis of faith as Jim Casy, Cherry Jones’ steely determination as Ma Joad, and Harry Treadaway’s awakening as Tom Joad are stand outs. As is the ever-wonderful Maimuna Memon who has written and performs songs with a small group of fellow musicians.

Three hours is a commitment, but one that I feel is worth it for this production. Especially the second half, where the pace picks up and there’s a bit more action and less relentless drudgery. Perhaps the next time The Grapes of Wrath makes its way to the National Theatre it will be in a more radical form, but for now this reminder of our shared humanity with those buffeted by the winds of fate is timely and compelling.

Salterton Arts Review’s rating: 3.5/5

The Grapes of Wrath on until 14 September 2024