Gift Theatre mounts wondrous revival of ‘The Grapes of Wrath’

“The Grapes of Wrath,” one of the greatest of all epic American journeys, is now being played out on The Gift Theatre’s slender strip of a storefront stage by a magnificent company of actors that easily lives up to the starry original cast featured in the 1988 Steppenwolf Theatre production so beautifully adapted for the stage by Frank Galati.

That might sound like hyperbole, but this revival is a stunner. And if you make only one trip to the theater this summer, this should be your destination.

John Steinbeck’s Pulitzer Prize-winning tale of the Joad family — farmers from the Depression-era Oklahoma “Dust Bowl” who, like more than two million others, were forced to leave their homes and head to California for the chance of work and a better life — is this country’s most vivid refugee story. And Steinbeck explores every aspect of the phenomenon, looking at the devastating effects of homelessness, the enduring power of the family (as well as the tragedy of its dispersal), the potential balm of faith, the vital importance of unified action, the sheer orneriness of other people, and above all, the primal drive to survive.

A story about loss and resilience, as well as about the dawning of a social and political conscience, the enduring power of ‘The Grapes of Wrath” is rooted in its clear-eyed view of humanity at its best and its worst. And The Gift production, superbly directed by Erica Weiss, does it proud, with 18 actors (cast with an eye to diversity that pays off at every turn) is a reminder of why Chicago theater deserves its reputation. It also suggests how limitations (as exemplified by the challenging space of The Gift’s stage) can inspire immense creativity.

After the banks send in bulldozers to level the Joads’ house, they pack up a truck that might not have the endurance to get them the 2,000 miles over mountains and across a desert to the Eden-like orchards of California they believe will give them a second chance. Piled on for the ride are: Ma Joad (Kona N. Burks in a performance of quiet purpose and inner strength that is nothing short of breathtaking); her husband (Paul D’Addario); and their children: Tom Joad (Namir Smallwood, whose slow burn acting as the young man just released on parole leaves an indelible impression); Noah (Michael Turrentine), a learning-disabled loner; Rose of Sharon (Emily Marso), a pregnant, dreamy teenager, and her restless husband, Connie (Tim Martin); Al (the high-spirited Lane Flores), an energetic 16-year-old who loves girls and cars (and, in the show’s one unnecessary addition, another boy); the very young Winfield (Mesiyah Rudezz Oduro-Kwarten), and Ruthie (Amaris Sanchez, a tiny thing with a formidable voice).

Also heading out on the journey are Grampa Joad (Art Fox), who in his day was a real hell-raiser, and Granma (Alexandra Main), both of whom are buried along the way, and nearly blind Uncle John (Jay Worthington), a drinker. Most notable of all is Jim Casey (Jerre Dye, in a hugely memorable Chicago acting debut), the former preacher-turned-activist with sharply original ideas about sin, and a newfound understanding of the power of unions and joint action that he transmits to Tom — a man whose exposure to injustice makes his a prime convert for this particular form of “spiritual” awakening. Adding fuel to the fire is Floyd Collins (a fervent turn by Jose Nateras), a laborer who has already been radicalized.

Throughout, the actors (including Charlie Strater, Kyle Zornes , Chris Matthews and Casey Morris) join in hymns and other songs led by the compelling Balladeer, guitarist-singer Diego Colon, who, with Christopher Kriz, is responsible for the fine musical direction and score.

Michael Patrick Thornton, The Gift’s artistic director, nailed the essence of Steinbeck’s story when he described it as “simultaneously modern and timeless” in the show’s press materials. The only thing to add is that it is the quintessential search for the Promised Land, in a land whose promise is yet to be fully met. The Gift, however, makes good on every promise.