‘I’m Proud of You’ @ Circle Theatre
Photos by TanStan Photography
—Jan Farrington
Has there ever been a nation-wide presence like that of Fred (aka “Mister”) Rogers? For American adults of a certain age, even the sound of his gentle voice can—as my oldest daughter tells me—make her “want to curl up in his lap and tell him everything.”
The Baby Boomers, the Millennials, the Gen X, Y and Zs should have been so lucky. (There are re-runs, of course—but so much competition now for the eyes and ears of our children.)
At Circle Theatre, the company’s fine season closes with I’m Proud of You, adapted by journalist-author Tim Madigan and TCU professor (and all-’round theater guy) Harry Parker, who directs the show. It’s drawn from Madigan’s 2006 best-seller I’m Proud of You—the story of how a mid-1990s assignment from Madigan’s newspaper (the Fort Worth Star-Telegram) became a life-altering friendship that lasted through Rogers’ death in 2003.
Simply presented by four actors onstage (two of them in multiple roles), Madigan and Parker bring to life the details of that relationship by pulling from letters, emails and conversations between the two men—and from others in their lives.
Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, at times, is spoken of in too-simple terms, as a televised “comfort zone” for kids. True, as far as it goes—but the thought behind the series ran much deeper. Fred Rogers (an ordained Presbyterian minister), had a mission to make children’s TV a force for tremendous good in the world. He wanted each of his young viewers to feel they were a precious soul—seen, accepted, cared for, loved. For the safe space of a half-hour, each knew they were “someone special” to the man looking out from the screen.
Randy Pearlman doesn’t try for a precise imitation of Rogers’ voice and manner, but after a few moments of adjustment, we fall into his quiet, intelligent, sometimes comic portrait of a man who seems (but isn’t) too good to be true. Richie Haratine is the driven, edgy Madigan, at first both admiring and a bit amused by Rogers, then drawn slowly into revealing himself to this warm and thoughtful listener—and talking about what Rogers called the “essential invisibles” of his interior life.
Fred quickly became the kind of friend we sense Madigan had never found before in a life, however successful, troubled by depression and self-doubt.
There’s a lot of good listening happening on the stage, a credit to the actors and their director. Lisa Fairchild plays an angry church lady, plus Fred’s wife Joanne Rogers and Tim’s mother—both observers of this odd-couple friendship. Gabe Whitehurst plays a small boy, a longtime member of the TV crew, and several generations of Tim’s family: son, father, younger brother. These are compact portraits, but engaging—and expand our understanding of the two men.
Brian Clinnin’s set design feels serene and a bit dreamy—cream-colored sheeting over chairs, benches, and platforms lit softly from beneath and behind by Tristan Decker. Alan Shorter’s original music, like Pearlman’s portrayal of Rogers, isn’t an imitation—but its airy quality is reminiscent of Rogers own music (he was a fine pianist) for his television show.
My travel schedule led to Circle kindly letting me pop in for one of the last preview performances. There’s a nice energy in the show that should only grow stronger over the course of its run. Rogers’ life story is better-known than it was when Madigan wrote his revelatory book. But it’s a story that bears repeating in times when anger and mistrust between people seems out of control.
We need to see each other. To tell those we love that we’re proud of them, and to ask people who are like us—and different from us—that essential question: “Won’t you be my neighbor?”
WHEN: October 26-November 14, 2023
WHERE: Circle Theatre, 230 West Fourth Street, Fort Worth TX
WEB: circletheatre.com
