The Grapes of Wrath – National Theatre, London

Writer: John Steinbeck

Adaptor: Frank Galati

Director: Carrie Cracknell

The first thing to say about the National Theatre’s dramatisation of John Steinbeck’s classic 1939 novel, The Grapes of Wrath, is that anyone who is seeking a cheerful offering to add sunshine to their 2024 Summer should be looking elsewhere. Director Carrie Cracknell’s vivid production is relentlessly bleak, lightened only by some startling staging and first-class acting.

In Frank Galati’s faithful adaptation, Steinbeck’s feel for social injustice survives intact; the novel is set during America’s Great Depression of the 1930s. It follows the fortunes of three generations of the Joad family as they up their roots in the dust bowl of Oklahoma and head for the promised fertile vineyards of Northern California, a trek of more than 1,000 miles. The penniless family’s journey is epic and, by its nature, the drama is episodic, thereby posing the challenge to both adaptor and director to keep the link to the central narrative thread strong and to bring to the fore the characters’ intimate stories.

Hotheaded young Tom Joad is released on parole after four years in prison and he returns home to find that his tenant farming family is already on the move. Tom is the story’s lynchpin and Harry Treadaway’s strong presence in the role is often the force that holds this production together. Making a rare UK stage appearance, the wonderful Cherry Jones matches him as the formidable Ma Joad, a pillar of strength in the face of adversity. Natey Jones as Jim Casey, a former preacher who joins the trek, and Greg Hicks as Pa Joad are among others giving stand-out performances.

Cracknell has assembled a company of 26, all but the principals playing multiple roles, for this large-scale production. Using the full width of the Lyttelton Theatre stage, Alex Eales’ set design has a perpetually grey sky overhead, with characters emerging from blackness. Period costumes (designed by Evie Guerney) and atmospheric lighting (designed by Guy Hoare) add to the gloom. The overall visual image often resembles a vast, over-populated, near-monochrome tableau of human suffering.

The main problem with all of this is that, particularly in the first act, the director is piling on the misery just a little too thickly. As a consequence of this excess, too many lines of dialogue come across as trite homespun philosophising and original songs in traditional folk/blues style, written by Maimuna Memon, begin to sound like dirges. At the interval, many members of the audience could be asking themselves whether they are up to sitting through another hour or so of their own great depression.

The second act brings no more joy and is still episodic, but Cracknell fills it with memorable dramatic set pieces and stirring special effects. A fight, a thunderstorm, etc. heighten the human dramas which grow in intensity. Billed as a tribute to the endurance of the human spirit, this stage version of The Grapes of Wrath often becomes a trial of the endurance of the audience’s spirit as it impresses and depresses in more or less equal measures.

Runs until 14 September 2024