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friday, april 7, 1978
page 8
daily nebraskan
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Director turns to Baton Rouge for time, new challenge
By Charlie Krig
John R. Wilson says it's strange no one
has asked him why he is leaving. Ever since
he announced his resignation as managing
director of the Lincoln Community Play
house the talk has concentrated on his 10
years in Lincoln: the success, the dissap
pointments, the dreams and the night
mares. But no one has asked why.
"I want to have more time with people.
I want to leave time to do things with
friends. Barb (his wife) and I don't belong
to bowling leagues, don't go on dinner
dates, don't get together with friends. It's
not that we aren't invited to these things,
it's just that we're too busy," Wilson
explained.
profile
Wilson will be busy until mid-June.
Rehearsal for his last show, Camelot, be
gins soon but he still is acting in the
current Playhouse production, The Good
Doctor.
When Wilson leaves the Playhouse he
and his wife will go to Baton Rouge, La.,
to start a dinner theater in an equal, three
way partnership with Carol McVey, pre
sently the administrative assistant to the
Playhouse. They "reduced the risk of
failure" by surveying successful American
dinner theaters and found some common
characteristics: the minimum population
needed to support the business is 250,000,
local colleges and state universities in
crease public acceptance of theater, and
being a state capitol helps even more.
Baton Rouge has all three.
"When we get there it will be much diff
erent from the time I spent on work now.
I work all day at administrative things at
the playhouse, take a break for dinner and
then come back for rehearsals from six to
ten," he said. "While I've been here I've
done everything from mop the floor to
design sets and lights to building things,
and when I get to Baton Rouge 111 be the
lowest-level techie-janitor-director, you
name it. But we will have time because we
will share responsibilities and one person
will be able to run the place while the
others can have time off-even a week or
more."
It's a big move for Wilson, but he's been
in Lincoln three times longer than the
national average for community playhouse
directors. And he knows it will be a
challenge.
"I know I can always feed and clothe
and house my family in some way, even if
this isn't an immediate success. Fortunate
ly, I am rare to be married to a woman
who's oriented toward theater and these
things, too. We're not terribly 'thing
oriented' people. If there's a choice be
tween something to do and some place to
go, invariably well chose 'to do.' "
Conversation also invariably turns to the
past. Between March 1968 and the present,
Wilson accomplished several goals: a new
theater building (the former synagogue at
18th and L streets was "built for the pre
vention of theater"), establishment of new
programs including children's theatre and
senior citizen classes ("We cover people
almost from the cradle to the grave"),
making the Playhouse "financially viable"
and offering a variety of plays to suit a
broad-based audience ("I've never cut a
word or phrase or sentence for censorship.
We advertise our questionable plays so that
people know they're meant for adults but
some people come anyway and they're
more prone to express themselves in nega
tives rather than positive terms.")
On the other hand, there have been dis
appointments. The Playhouse is not
'Tmancially independent" to be able to do
shows without regard for sufficient sell
outs. Only three to four percent of the
Lincoln population goes to the theater.
Certain plays, such as Equus, were not
available at selection time or were not suit
able for the next season.
Through it all, Wilson said his relation
ships were good. He said he "mellowed"
over the years so that he kept people
happy but didn't run any "popularity
contests for a director." He also said re
viewers have been good except for those
who write in a "smart-assed way which
irritates me. For these amateur actors it's
an ego thing and they're very sensitive."
Wilson has some advice for his succes
sor, too.
"He's going to have to find his own
course and be an open-minded and recept
ive as possible. People will come up with
terrible ideas and hell have to approach
them in a positive vein. He also should stay
away from the advice of the people who
think they know everything about the
operation. He'll just have to work his butt
off."
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John R. Wilson on set of The Good Doctor.
Photo by Bob Pearson
Matthau's versatile humor doctors up 'House Calls9
By J. Marc Mush kin
As Walter Matthau grows older, his face
more and more resembles a kind of latex
mask he can manipulate in just about
any way he wants to. From sophisticated
doctor to lovable basset hound, Matthau
has a range of expression that can take the
most pedestrian material and get a laugh.
This is the kind of thing Matthau does in
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House Calls.
Matthau plays a middle-aged doctor in a
thoroughly mismanaged and inept hospital.
Dr. Charley Nichols (Matthau) has just lost
his wife and sets out to make up years of
lost ground in chasing women. Sound
familiar? Well, the story is a bit tired, and
it seems to get increasingly contrived as Dr.
movie
Photo courtesy r' imrBm.
Dustin Hoffman stars in Straight Time.
Nichols gets involved with a patient, Ann
Atkinson (Glenda Jackson).
Bat Matthau and Richard Benjamin,
playing Nichols' sidekick, Dr. Norman
Solomon, inject new life into what at first
seems to be a ptle Odd Couple routine. As
a matter of fact, the whole concept of the
film seems to be patterned after Nefl
Simon's comedies.
Glenda Jackson's role is more than
faintly reminiscent of Marsha Mason's in
The Goodbye Girl and countless other
Simon female characters. And Art Carney's
character, a senile doctor hanging on to his
position as chi;f of staff, owes a great deal
to Simon s The Sunshine Boys.
I guess what really reminds me of a Neil
Simon movie is Matthau 's presence.
Matthau made a big impression on me way-back-when
as Oscar Madison in The Odd
Couple and I've liked him ever since.
He's just as likable as ever in this movie.
His range of voices and that incredible face
makes him a wonderfully versatile
comedian. Less versatile, but another
favorite of mine is Richard Benjamin.
There is a kind of controlled frustration
lurking in every expression he makes the
kind of frustration you feel when you've
lost your car keys for the third time in a
week. Every angle of his animated eye
brows remind you of that feeling and gives
a twist of humor to each line he delivers.
Glenda Jackson and Art Carney don't
come off nearly as well; just how many
examples of Dr. Willoughby's (Carney)
senility are we expected to sit through?
But House Calls manages to be mildly
entertaining with some good laughs and a
very nice surprise in the middle. The
surprise: how often do you get to hear a
Beatles song in a non-Beatles production?
George Harrison's "Something" accompan
ies a rather corny falling-in-love montage of
Matthau and Jackson. What a treat.
House Calls is showing at the Cooper
Lincoln.
Straight Time pits Dustin Hoffman
against society. It's a bit of a mismatch.
But the funny thing is Hoffman, as Max
Dembo, a two-bit crook, doesn't exactly
win, but he does get away.
Alvin Sargent, Edward Bunker, and
Jeffrey Boam wrote this Ulu Groshard
film. Sargent also wrote last year's Bobby
Deerfield, a dreadful bore, and Straight
Time is suffering from some of the same
problems, but Hoffman's performance and
a great robbery scene lift the movie to a
modest level of interest.
Hoffman seems to be struggling to put
some life into the dead lines he's given.
He plays a character who tries to make it in
society as an ex-con but can't mainly be
cause of the abuse of his probation officer.
His jobs and relationships seem to be
crippled by his past, and only a sympa
thetic employment agency secretary
(Theresa Russell, only 20 and in her second
movie) gives him any concern or caring.
The problem is that as much as I like
Dustin Hoffman (I saw Straight Time in a
double feature with Straw Dogs) it is pain
ful to see him in this straight-jacket of a
role. The point of the film seems to be that
nobody cares, and I'm afraid that could
also be said about the film itself.