Steinbeck’s ‘Of Mice and Men’ @ The Core Theatre
Photos by Arianna Cinello
—Carol M. Rice
John Steinbeck adapted his 1937 novel Of Mice and Men for the stage while it was still on the best-seller list; it opened on Broadway in November of its publication year. Despite the fact that it’s taught in many high schools (and banned in others), I’ve never read the novel. And while I’ve gone through the script many times, The Core Theatre’s excellent production is my first time to see the play live.
Core founder James Hansen Prince directs the solid cast on a rugged, transforming set (which he also designed). Prince knows how to utilize every inch of the his stage, and makes it seem easy to go from a tree-covered riverbank to a bunkhouse to the separate quarters of a Black worker, and then to a barn. The set is a key part of his vision of the piece, aided by the lighting, also designed by Prince.
The cast is uniformly outstanding, starting with Adam Michael Thomas as the mentally challenged Lennie Small. Thomas’s Lennie is a huge, childlike adult who towers over the rest of the cast. He seems harmless but doesn’t know his own strength and has no self-control when he loves something or someone. He accidentally kills mice and puppies by petting them too hard, and this love for soft, fluffy things has gotten him into a heap of trouble over the years. Thomas has given Lennie various tics and mannerisms, and his exceptional performance is wholly believable.
Lennie is completely misunderstood by everyone except his pal George, played with understated intensity by Michael Hampton. George is overly protective of his friend and wants to get him away from the rest of the world—to a place of their own, where they can be their own bosses and Lennie can raise rabbits. That vision is omething Lennie never lets George forget. George’s patience with Lennie is nearly to the breaking point, and Hampton’s pent-up emotions are apparent from the beginning.
The men arrive on the ranch where they plan to work and are met by Candy, played by Stan Kelly. Candy has a mangled hand but still works as best he can around the place. Kelly starts off a little too quiet and unsure, stammering and staring at the floor through much of his first scene, but his performance grows stronger and more confident as the play wears on. When Candy overhears George and Lennie talking about the place they plan to get, he eagerly offers to go with them and provide a good deal of the money needed. George isn’t happy to have a hanger-on, but the money is too tempting to pass up and the men agree to team up.
Unfortunately, Lennie and Candy can’t keep their mouths shut, despite warnings from George, and Crooks—the ranch’s segregated Black worker (played with a period appropriate, subservient attitude by Demetrious Murray)—finds out about their plan. Murray’s scene with Thomas when they are left alone is a highlight of the show, and a sobering indictment of how “outsiders” are treated; it sadly still rings true today.
George puts the kibosh on anyone else joining them, but it ends up not mattering—because Lennie gets himself into trouble with Curley’s Wife, played by Cecil Powell. It has always bothered me that this character doesn’t even get her own name, but perhaps that’s intentional on Steinbeck’s part, as she’s seen by everyone in the play as a lesser person. Women at this time were only good to be wives or tramps. Powell is flirty, almost seductive, and quite unlikeable (as she should be) until her scene with Lennie, when she opens up about her past and we learn why she married Curley. Her vulnerability in this scene is lovely.
The overly jealous Curley is played with white-hot anger by Michael Kravitz. We never actually see Curley and his wife together (again, intentional on Steinbeck’s part, I think), but it’s obvious that he sees his wife as a possession. It’s no wonder she’s looking for connection with the other men.
Curley primarily suspects the Wife of fooling around with Slim, played by Julian Harris in a brilliantly laid-back performance. Harris’s Slim is subtly alert while seeming to be somewhat disinterested in everything around him, and he has excellent stage presence. Slim is the only one of the workers who develops any sort of relationship with George in the short time he and Lennie are there, and Harris and Hampton’s longest scene, when George tells Slim about Lennie’s past trouble, is strong and compelling. They have great chemistry together.
Rounding out the cast are Michael Goodman as the unfeeling Carlson, Chuck Prindiville as the gossipy Whit, and Fred Patterson as The Boss. Carlson is the character that dog lovers love to hate, as he convinces Candy that his old, smelly dog needs to be put out of his misery. Goodman plays Carlson as slimy and cocky and unpleasant, which is exactly what the character calls for.
Whit, on the other hand, is the kind of guy you’d go to for information. He knows all about the local “cat houses” and how much each charges for every little thing. He never has any money because he blows it each week on booze and women, and that’s the way he likes it. While Prindiville has great energy and a fun, well-developed character to work with, it was sometimes hard to hear him.
The Boss is a necessary yet almost throw-away character, but not as played by Patterson. He is stern and businesslike, and he wants his workers to succeed—even though he knows they probably aren’t going to stick around long. Patterson is a charismatic actor who does a fine job in his role.
Of Mice and Men is a classic because of its multiple themes of friendship, loneliness, fitting in, and the American Dream...but the list could go on and on. It is relatable on so many different levels that nearly everyone can find something that resonates with them. The Core Theatre’s production of this powerful play emphasizes all these themes without being too busy, and it will definitely stick with you long after leaving the theatre. Whether you’re familiar with the story or not, this is a production that deserves to be seen.
WHEN: August 29-September 14, 2025
WHERE: 518 W. Arapaho Road, Suite 115, Richardson TX
WEB: thecoretheatre.org
