Twelve Angry Diamonds

Twenty-four hours from right now I will be enjoying yet another open’in of another show—I think it is my 64th show to open, but frankly, I have lost count. If you read my trilogy of blog entries in October, That Being Said, you know the play is not the one I began with students in September. Oh well, it is one of my favorite plays to direct anyway.

The play we will present to the KA community this week is one of my warhorses, the tight 90-minute no-intermission drama originally produced for 1950s television, and then as a major motion picture as Twelve Angry Men. Since I have always opted to cast the play with males and females, one must adjust the title to Twelve Angry Jurors. This play is the simplest, cheapest play imaginable. You find a space in which to perform, grab a good sturdy table and some chairs, get a couple of regular props, and boom—you got a play. But while it is simple and cheap, it remains among the most powerful plays I know—I know it well…I have directed it before, very memorably, in 1994, 1997, 2001, 2005, and 2010.

Twelve Angry Jurors is a play as bland as butter and as brilliant as diamonds. The setting and premise is so simple. Twelve jurors, strangers before this court case, are sequestered to debate the guilt or innocence of a young, unseen, defendant, “one of them,” as Juror #10 announces often. It is an actor’s feast because all 12 actors are on stage the entire time, and you get to hone the skills of an actor in that the way you sit, sigh, drum your fingers, drink water out of the water cooler, engage with the other jurors, and raise your hand to vote, speaks volumes about your character. The playwright gives you little to work with—you don’t even have a name, you are simply your juror number, and while you can guess how the play will go, it can still be nail-biting in watching the narrative unfold.

I have always staged the play so that an audience is surrounding the jury room of actors. At Charlotte Latin I placed the actors on stage in a theater of the round; at Hackley we performed it in the Lindsay Room, a great space where about 100 observers could be just a few feet away from the action. One year we performed the play while Timothy McVeigh was on trial, and many of the audience told me later it gave them a chance to reflect on the American judicial system and ponder how we do what we say in trying our criminals.

One of the messages of Twelve Angry Jurors is how we should look past stereotypes and not shallowly judge people, and that we need to think about how we discuss a “them” group characteristic. I think this message can play effectively anywhere in the world.

Since I have done this play 6 times over the last 19 school years, I know the play thoroughly. And when I cast the play, I enjoy the nostalgia of thinking back to previous casts and enjoying how much the actors in this particular play have enriched me. The “Henry Fonda” character to me will always be the “Chuck Edwards part,” the student-actor who first played the role for me in 1994. Juror #8 is the young man who acts as the moral compass in the play and instructs and guides the jury to think a little harder about what is a reasonable doubt (if you know Chuck, well, you know why I call it as I do). David played the part in 1997, and Tom in 2001, Kenrick in 2005, and Mounir in 2010…my trip down memory lane, each time it is interesting to note how the actor must play a sage role and avoid treacle-y didacticism. This time I cast a female actor for the first time, the estimable Hanna Lee, a veteran of other plays with me here in Jordan.

Then there is the part of the “bigot,” a part I have always used in which to cast a female actor. This is a meaty role with a killer monologue at the end (I call them “arias” in this play). This has always gone to my Meryl-Streep actress of that year, and the pedigree is rich as I recount that Catherine played the part in 1994, and Elizabeth in 1997, Liz in 2001, Alyssa in 2005, and Hana Mufti in 2010. Now I have another newcomer to me—a scrappy, charismatic actress named Dyala who resorts to a sweetness every time she starts to be nasty, but she is as lethal as they come.

The third of the “showiest” parts is the loudmouth, angry, and embittered father, a part played by Lee J. Cobb in the movie, and played by dynamite actors in my productions. This part needs to feel as if it is essayed by a 50-ish actor, a terrific feat for an adolescent actor. This is a part that must be more than blather and bravado, and must touch the heart as the jurors, and the audience, realize he is hurting due to the alienation of his son. This juror also has a showstopper of an aria at the end of the play, and reminds me of Mama Rose’s breakdown in Gypsy. Again, the gallery of actors whom have tackled this role reads as a veritable who’s who of my great actors: Eric in 1994, and then Brent in 1997, Kieran in 2001, Harrison in 2005, and Lawrence in 2010. I have a young actor named Ali Mango, and yowza! This guy is giving his all in the part.

But as I said, each part is juicy in this play since all the actors (except the Guard, who appears from time to time, but even then I have cast the guard with actors who are just great to know, like Brent in 1994 and now Nasam) are on “stage” the whole time, and each is afforded moments in which to shine. Here are the actors who are my line-up for the 2012 version:
Natasha

Nora

Ali

Talal

Wali

Larissa

Ahmed

Hanna

Juliana

Dyala

Tamara

Nawal

I don’t direct them to emulate anyone else’s performance, but the rehearsal room is quite crowded, because in a cosmic way, for me, as I think about Lyde and Bennett and Jen and Soyoung and Brian and Jake and Lani and Becky and Junko and Ethan and Melissa and Julia and Abdullah and Rob and Burhan and Robert and Dana and all these great actors and how they have enriched this play for me over the last 19 years. You know, I am reminded of the interesting Ogden Nash observation as I contemplate this play and the casts: “Middle age is when you’ve met so many people that every new person you meet reminds you of someone else.”

I will let you know how the week and the performances go…


Let’s see how they handle the butter and diamonds.