Metro Pulse/Backstage/The Rainmaker

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What:
The Rainmaker

When:
Tues.-Sun. at 8 p.m. except on Sunday, Sept. 9 and Saturday, Sept. 15 when shows are at 2 p.m. There are no performances on Mondays.

Where:
Clarence Brown Theatre

Cost:
$5-$23. Call 974-5161 for more info.

CBT's opening show is as clean and delightful as a fresh downpour

by Paige M. Travis

The search for love can be disheartening for a smart, independent-minded, semi-wacky Knoxville girl. Friends sing your praises and swear that lucky guy is just around the corner. But as the weeks of datelessness add up, you get paranoid. You are on Cupid's hate-list. You consider moving to a bigger city or entering a convent.

But even on the worst days, this romantic dry spell is nothing compared to being a free-thinking single girl in the Depression-era Midwest, where eligible bachelors are few and very far (we're talking miles) between, and your best bet for marriage is to catch the eye of one of your cousins. When they write you off as bizarre, it's hard to keep your chin up and not believe you're just what your brother says: an old maid.

Such is the seemingly hopeless situation of Lizzie Curry in N. Richard Nash's The Rainmaker, the brilliantly chosen opening play in Clarence Brown Theatre's 2001-02 season.

Played by native Knoxvillian and veteran screen and stage actor Dale Dickey, Lizzie handles her problem with humor, but the seriousness of the situation is clear. Girls get married, and if they haven't done so by a certain age, their chances shrink exponentially. Lizzie is confident in her intelligence and her ability to take care of her family. But she doesn't have a clue about how to deal with men. She wants to get a man without reverting to the insulting behavior exhibited by the popular girls in town. "Isn't that possible?" she asks. "No," her brothers conclude. They tell her to play games, flirt and be coy. Lizzie just wants to be herself: smart, honest and without pretense.

In the absence of self-help books, Lizzie depends on the support of her father H.C. (Joel Rooks) and her younger brother Jimmy (Thomas L. Webb). They think maybe she doesn't have to get married, that she can be happy taking care of them for the rest of her days. But that's not what Lizzie wants. Deep down she sees herself as a wife and mother, and she'll be crushed if her wish doesn't come true. So her brothers and father go against her half-hearted protests and attempt to set her up with the stoic, unmarried sheriff's deputy File (David Brian Alley).

File is a man of few words and no friends. Sheriff Thomas (Donald Thorne) sees through his act and tries to get him to confess his loneliness, but File doesn't budge. He won't even accept the sheriff's offer of a pet dog. File is stubborn and defensive—clearly a man who's been wounded by love.

Bigger than the problem of Lizzie's love life is the ongoing drought. Calves on the Curry ranch are dying, and Noah (Ronald Venable), the oldest son, is worried. In the midst of these difficulties arrives a man who claims to have all the answers: Bill Starbuck.

Knoxville's own native son and Hollywood actor David Keith plays Starbuck like a cross between a larger-than-life folk hero and Harold Hill, the fast-talking con from The Music Man. Dressed in a red cowboy shirt and black jeans, Keith seems taller and bigger than everyone else on stage, an effect that lends to his credibility as their savior. Starbuck claims he can conjure up the rain the Curries need so desperately. Noah and Lizzie are skeptical, but H.C. decides he's got nothing to lose but cash, and young Jimmy is instantly caught in Starbuck's spell.

Director Lianne Kressin (who appeared with Keith and Venable two years ago in CBT's Catfish Moon) lets the play unfold naturally and allows her talented cast do their thing. Rooks plays H.C. as an indulgent dad who wants the best for his daughter and loves her enough to let her make her own decisions. Venable's Noah is a hard-headed believer in tough love, cruelly insisting that Lizzie's plain looks and serious nature will keep her single forever. As Jimmy, Webb is an adorable, cantankerous brother. His dead-on delivery and wide-eyed expression are so devoid of irony or cynicism that nearly every punch line he delivered on opening night received a hearty laugh.

The Rainmaker is good in every sense of the word: honest, wholesome, substantial, satisfying, funny, touching. Everything Nash shows us about human nature—the pitfalls of pride, the complications between men and women, the power of faith—is absolutely true, truer than any self-help tome or talk-show advice. The play and its actors are as smart and honest as the characters themselves. And even without the gorgeous set (by Jeff Modereger) and renowned actors, the world created here would be just as beautiful.

In promoting The Rainmaker the CBT has chosen well not to call it a "romance" as many productions do. The play is romantic, but it contains none of the contrivances of so many modern love stories. No gimmicks or fireworks, just honest chemistry. This production feels like reality—a hopeful reality in which, given enough hope, faith and time, the rain falls and the lonely find love.