Review: Serenbe Playhouse’s ‘Of Mice and Men’ explores price of love

Through June 26. 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Sundays. $25-$30. Serenbe Playhouse, the Hay Barn at Serenbe, 10950 Hutchesons Ferry Road, Chattahoochee Hills. 770-463-1110, serenbeplayhouse.com.

Bottom line: Steinbeck, outdoors and just tad uneven.

Welcome to Part 3 of Serenbe Playhouse's season of tearjerkers for all ages and tastes.

After a darkly riveting ride on Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Carousel" and a bittersweet romp with E.B. White's "Charlotte's Web" (which continues through July 31), the Chattahoochee Hills theater goes into tragic mode with John Steinbeck's classic "Of Mice and Men."

As Serenbe Playhouse founder Brian Clowdus jokes in the program, you might need to bring Kleenex, along with the bug spray and wineglass. Remember that as you set off for director Jenny Lord’s outdoor production of the tale of California migrant workers George (Daniel Parvis) and Lennie (Blake Burgess), whom many of us first encountered in high-school English class.

Kindred spirit of “Huckleberry Finn,” “To Kill a Mockingbird,” even “Brokeback Mountain,” Steinbeck’s Depression and Dust Bowl-era drama is above all else a love story.

George is the exasperated but ever-loyal friend of gentle giant Lennie, a childlike man with cognitive challenges and a fondness for all things soft and furry: He stashes mice in his pockets and dreams of the rabbits he’ll pet when he and George save up enough money to get a little house and “live off the fat of the land.” Pretty women with silky hair and nice dresses also tempt.

In the hardscrabble world of the bunkhouse where they land, George and Lennie are an odd couple, easy targets for the stern boss man (Brad Brinkley) and his bullying son, Curley, whose vain new wife the farmhands brand a “tart.” Curley, short and hot-tempered, is played by Andy Terwilliger; Curley’s coquettish wife by Nicole Carpenter. This same pair portray Wilbur the pig and his young benefactress, Fern, in “Charlotte’s Web.” If you happen to catch both productions, you’ll be amazed by their transformation and versatility.

Beloved though it may be, “Of Mice and Men” is not the literary masterpiece my ninth-grade self once thought it was. It may be a good teaching tool, but it is laden with heavy-handed foreshadowing and symbolism; overblown archetypes and dated social commentary. Also: loads of gratuitous violence, mawkish sentimentality, preachiness and characters who make astonishingly irresponsible, almost unbelievable choices.

For me, the most interesting characters are not wiry, hyper-masculine George or sweetly naive Lennie but Crooks (Daviorr Snipes) and worn-out, one-handed farmhand Candy (Michael Rudko).

Crooks, a lonely, isolated black man, is the Steinbeck version of the slave Jim from “Huckleberry Finn,” the outcast Judd Fry of “Oklahoma!” and Harper Lee’s misunderstood Boo Radley. Nicely played by Snipes, Crooks is a stoic, a truth-sayer and bit of a prophet. Rudko is perfectly cast as Candy — he’s heartbreaking. It doesn’t help that Candy’s dog is snatched from him and executed by Carlson (the terrific Jonathan Horne).

Parvis and Burgess give solid performances. But I have some reservations.

Parvis (who would be perfect as a vintage cowboy or noir detective in a Hollywood film of this period) is a likable and reliable performer, but he doesn’t quite find the complicated core of George. Burgess, for his part, is physically perfect as Lennie, but he never channels the angelic, simple, otherworldly grace.

Lord situates the piece in and around a barn and smartly incorporates the surrounding landscape, perfect for off-stage horseshoe games and Lenny’s mousing around. The live music is a nice touch, but doesn’t always work transitionally, and the pacing of the show can be slow.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the canine actors here, rescue pups from Fulton County Animal Services’ Lifeline program. On the night I saw the show, Hector (the 10-year-old pit bull mix who plays Candy’s doomed companion) perked up his head at the mention of being shot, as if he knew what these cruel men were saying. Dang smart dog. When it came time for his killer to dispatch him, he dug his paws into the floor and refused to budge. (In real life, I am told that Hector was on the verge of being put down when Serenbe Playhouse agreed to foster him.)

And then there’s Autumn (Lenny’s puppy), who has many kisses for castmates and doesn’t stay on stage nearly long enough, in my humble opinion. A 3-month-old St. Bernard mix, she’s on the hunt for a forever home. (See details in the program.)

Yes, I’m a dog lover on a tangent. But finding a friend, and a home, is the essence of “Mice and Men.” In life and literature, attention must be paid to the underdogs who can’t speak for themselves. That’s love.