The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis' choice of plays to open its 49th season, "All The Way", could not have been more perfectly timed. The nation now sits in the aftermath of Ferguson and in the opening campaigns of the 2016 presidential elections. Robert Schenkkan's powerful play about Lyndon Johnson and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, passed as Johnson was engaged in a campaign to be elected on his own, reminds us again and again how much things have changed – and how little.
The play examines less than a year, from Johnson assuming the presidency after John Kennedy was assassinated to the 1964 presidential election, a period that covered the long, hot summer of 1964, a time of change and discovery for many of us. The Freedom Summer, a project to enroll African American voters in Mississippi, drew attention; the subsequent murders of James Chaney, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner became a fulcrum that affected, among many other things, the Democratic nominating convention that year. The play is not perfectly accurate from an historical standpoint, but it's close enough to cause shivers for people who remember, or who have almost forgotten.
Johnson, supremely gifted in the art of political arm-twisting – although he certainly would have put that in saltier terms – was, like many such powerful men, complex and given to occasional moments of deep self-doubt, all of which are given free rein by Brian Dykstra. It's a time of high emotion for a group of people who feel strongly about things; things get loud very easily, and quite appropriately. Hubert Humphrey, the senate Majority Whip, and by all accounts, one of the nicest men on Capitol Hill, played by Kurt Zischke, shepherds the Civil Rights Act through, becoming one of Johnson's right-hand men and thus the sometimes-object-of-derision, and the go-between between LBJ and the leaders of the several civil rights movements.
Seeing how legislation got through Congress may be a revelation for those who have only paid attention to Washington in its current state of paralysis. Johnson's work to achieve it in the face of substantial opposition is considered probably the most remarkable accomplishment of his presidency, along with Medicare, but once upon a time, children, Congress understood its job was to act in the country's best interest.
The other very current topic that's shown here is the argument among civil rights leaders on the best way to accomplish their goals. Avery Glymph is Martin Luther King, and Ron Himes is Ralph Abernathy, King's best friend, taking the middle ground. Roy Wilkinsof the NAACP, played by J. Samuel Davis, believes in moving a little more slowly. Stokeley Carmichael, often described as fiery and here at times almost combusting, is Richard Prioleau, unwilling to wait, unwilling to compromise, driven to action.
This is a fine cast overall, working diligently – only five actors have a single character to play, so the remainder are playing as many as four each. Those with a memory of the real life-versions of people like George Wallace and Emanuel Celler may be disappointed that the distinctive voices are not imitated. But it's acting that's required, not mimicry, so although we may miss, for instance, the distinctive sonorous voice of Everett Dirksen, Gary Wayne Barkerat least manages to give us a hint of Ol' Ev's jowls and more than a hint of his ego.
Steve Woolf directed this tour de force. Rob Denton's lighting design works like a charm, moving us around the stage like a carefully choreographed dance. And Dorothy Marshall Englis' costumes, particularly the obsessively proper Washington women, give us a sense of place, as does the set by James Kronzer.
"All The Way" won the Tony Award for Best Play, and it's clear why it did. While the dialogue may raise the hair on some heads for its racism, sexism and occasional vulgarity, it depicts a world not so very far from us now.
All The Way
through October 4
Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
314-968-4925