The New York Times
 Sunday, September 19, 2004
Excerpted from “'Of Mice and Men': Steinbeck's Bunkhouse, Filled with Tension”
By Naomi Siegel
 
If there were any dry eyes opening night at the conclusion of The Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey's gut-wrenching production of “Of Mice and Men,” they were the exception. The deafening silence that greeted the final blackout and the cheers that followed gave witness to the enduring power of John Steinbeck's dramatization of his 1937 novel to grab its audience by the heart and never let go.
 
...George, played by Graham Winton with feisty determination tempered by depths of feeling, is in charge. Lennie, large and lumbering, with a mind unable to remember or think rationally, tags along at his side. Lennie is a time bomb waiting to detonate, and Mark Mineart gives a profoundly moving performance as the childlike yet physically powerful outcast.
 
Under Joe Discher's sensitive direction, individually memorable portraits blend skillfully into a whole....The revival is timely and devastatingly effective.

Variety
September 12, 2004
By Robert L. Daniels

When John Steinbeck dramatized his 1937 novel "Of Mice and Men" for the stage, it was honored with the New York Drama Critics Circle award. While there have been four television and film versions, and two major Broadway revivals, the play has seldom revealed the dusty and turbulent realism that director Joe Discher has unveiled in a new production by the Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey. Discher has illustrated the drama's true grit, evoked the Depression era with grim realism and defined the unusual kinship of itinerant farm workers.

George, the earthy, decent and protective travelin' pal is acted with frustrated spunk and calming concern by Graham Winton. Mark Mineart is Lennie, the burly giant with the mind of a child. He is a simple-minded hulk who harbors unreasonable strength. He crushes birds, field mice and puppies with his misdirected affection. His fondness for stroking soft furry things is ultimately his undoing when he encounter's the foxy wife of Curley, the ranch owner's surly son. Mineart captures Lennie's innocence, humor and blundering anger with a clear, keen balance of emotional truth.

Discher's resourceful staging is hard-hitting, yet he nicely defines the play's gentler moments, especially when George tells Lennie about the little farm they'll soon share to find a gentler life living "off the fatta the lan'." Steinbeck's yarn is a compelling human drama and Discher has tapped its full eloquence and its poetic grandeur.

The Star-Ledger
Monday, September 13, 2004
Excerpted from 'Close to Perfection'
By Peter Filichia

Back in the 17th century, when Puritan girls were sewing their samplers, they purposely made a mistake while stitching. That was their way of saying that only God can make something perfect.

Maybe that's why, on Saturday night at the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey, one of the actors in "Of Mice and Men" raised his eyebrow about a quarter-inch too high during a second act revelation.

In staging what is the finest revival of the year, director Joe Discher must have purposely had that actor over-react, in order to skirt perfection. Considering that he made no other mistake with John Steinbeck's classic, this could be the only explanation.

Discher certainly formulated some best-laid plans for "Of Mice and Men" when he cast Graham Winton as George and Mark Mineart as his behemoth friend Lennie. They're superb as the two migrant workers who wonder where they'll find their next meal, let alone job.

Winton appears to be a grown-up version of the boy Thomas Sully painted in his famous 1820 portrait, "The Torn Hat." He shows George's discomfort at making the decisions for both himself and Lennie. How well he knows that, as the brains of the operation, he isn't as good as the dim-witted Lennie is as the brawn. Throughout the play, Winton displays a man who wishes he could tell Lennie that he depends on the big guy more than his pal needs him.

Lennie is a role that can be too easily caricatured if an actor isn't careful, but Mineart is magnificent as the eager-to-please, simple man. He gives a big smile when he's able to remember a certain fact, and then, if the memory isn't a pleasant one, follows it with a sudden frown. Then he shows great shame when he can't remember a salient fact. Along the way, Mineart captures the dignity of a person who's trying his best.

There's a scene where Lennie and George are sitting by a campfire. Lighting designer Matthew E. Adelson has George's face illuminated by the coals, but not Lennie's, for he's sitting too far away. No matter; the enthusiasm that Mineart gives lights up his face anyway.

These two alone would make this production worth seeing, but Discher's supporting cast is astonishing in its matter-of-fact, natural approach to the material.

While the final scenes were played at Saturday's opening, the audience's rapt silence was interrupted by the sound of purses being zipped open and unclasped. After women wiped their eyes with their hankies, men next to them motioned that they should hand them over. "Of Mice and Men" centers on people's need to talk, but it left this audience speechless.

 The Daily Record
Excerpted from 'Shakespeare Theatre is Compelling in Steinbeck's Tale of Thwarted Hopes'
By William Westhoven

There are so many reasons to see the Shakespeare Theatre of New Jersey's production of "Of Mice and Men" that it might be hard to fit them all on one page.

The audience's close relationship with these characters — George, the tightly wound "brains" of the two-man operation, and Lennie, the slow-witted, behemoth man-child whose brawn can outwork a truckload of bindle bums — puts the actors at a disadvantage.

Broderick Crawford, James Earl Jones, Randy Quaid and John Malkovich have all done Lennie proud, while Robert Blake and Gary Sinise can be counted among the greater Georges.

The trick is to find actors who aren't afraid of the ghosts, and with Mark Mineart and Graham Winton, the Theatre has two fearless forces at the top of a playoff-worthy lineup. Director Joe Discher wisely clears the stage of props and clutter as he introduces us to them and lets everyone get to know each other.

Winton's subtle body language helps us sympathize with George even when he's scolding Lennie for his childish behavior and sifting memory, or lamenting how much easier his life could be if he was on his own. You know he doesn't mean it, even before he says so. He's just frustrated with his own tragedy, hitching rides from one back-breaking job to another for slave wages.

As Lennie, of course, Mineart has the tougher job, starting with the physical attributes required to play the part. As one basketball coach used to say, "you can't teach tall," but Mineart's broad shoulders and 6-foot-5 frame more than fills the mold. So does his long, oval face, with dark eyes, swirling brows and a rubbery mouth framed by a bald head and round chin. His features and expression are almost liquid as he flows from gleeful giggling to frightened puppy.
He runs the full range of emotions sitting on a tiny nail barrel as he tells Crooks, the crippled black muleskinner, about how he and George are this close to their dream of owning a farm and "living off the fat of the land." And when he's forced to defend himself against Curly (Marc Aden Gray), the hot-tempered son of the ranch boss, rather than lighting up his eyes as though a switch was turned on, Mineart's eyes instead go blank, as if something was turned off. It's an important distinction, one that helps reinforce that Lennie's actions are not only beyond his control, but are completely passive as well...

...Other actors offer additional reasons to make this a "must-see" play. Theatre veteran Paul Niebanck ("Pygmalion," "Rhinoceros," "The Crucible") flaunts his amazing range as the quietly dignified Slim, while Jim Mohr (seen with Niebanck last year in "Pygmalion") is touching as Candy, the aging ranch hand who literally buys his way into George and Lennie's dream.

Excerpted from www.TalkinBroadway.com
By Bob Rendell

...The cast is exemplary. There is a naturalness to the ensemble performance which makes Marion Williams' sets and costumes feel lived in. Mark Mineart is a fully nuanced Lennie, simultaneously fearsome and sympathetic. Graham Winton is a very human George, humane, but not without bad temper. In the hands of Mineart and Winton, Lennie and George's odd couple relationship is always believable.

As noted, director Joe Discher delivers a straight forward, naturalistic production. This is no small feat. Any attempt at a more revelatory approach would have been misguided.

"Of Mice and Men" is a prime example of a clear and concise work whose riches are clearly and immediately revealed. However, it is neither simple nor simplistic. It sticks in the mind. I have found this to be the case ever since I first read it as a child a half century ago. It is quite a life lesson. I recommend that you get over to the Shakespeare Theatre and experience it yourself.

Excerpted from www.TheaterScene.net
By Simon Saltzman

...As if to prove that this world between reality and fantasy is as resonant today as ever, Joe Discher has staged a sturdily humanized production for the Shakespeare Theater of New Jersey. It works mainly because it fully embraces the central meaningful relationship within the play. Certainly the fraternal love between George and Lennie is even more to the point in 2004. This is the dimension of the plot that remains universal rather than the predictably tragic plot or the one dimensional supporting characters.

It is also fortunate that Graham Winton, as George, and Mark Mineart, as Lennie, two migrant agricultural workers, have sought to go one step beyond the more obvious and stereotypical models for their characters. Because of this, the core of the play — the strange but symbiotic relationship of two unwitting victims of the times — is able to support the weaker circumference, the vision of a social system empowered by greed and materialism.

Whether Lennie may have actually been kicked in the head by a horse as a child (used by George as an excuse for Lennie), or was just born that way, Mineart's depiction of an overgrown oaf with an obsession for petting small furry animals and soft sensual fabrics, is deeply moving. Being tall, large–framed and virtually bald Mineart, who is making his Shakespeare Theater debut, holds our attention by the sheer substance of his portrayal. Whether becoming agitated by the goading of the black stable hand, or becoming sexually aroused by the insinuating moves of Curley's wife, Mineart makes it easy for us to respond empathetically to the simplicity of Lennie's basic needs.

The Princeton Packet
Excerpted from 'The Shakespeare Theatre chases the dreams of John Steinbeck's Depression-era farmhands.'
Stuart Duncan , TimeOFF
09/15/2004

A sensitive cast takes its time exploring Steinbeck's Depression-tinged characters. Graham Winton is a superb George, balancing macho and empathy with breathtaking ease. Mark Mineart gives a haunting performance as Lennie — most remarkable in that until he opens his mouth, one would never know the childlike personality beneath. Give director Discher credit: He took a few members of the company to visit his sister, who is afflicted with Down Syndrome, to deepen their understanding of their roles.

The Shakespeare Theatre continues to stage knockout productions, one after the other. This is one of the very best.