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You want a cigarette, Fred?
one newsman asks another in the stage adaptation of George Clooneys 2005 filmGood Night, and Good Luck.
No, Fred replies.
Ill just breathe the air.
The smoke, though, means more.
We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason.
Ten years later, Murrow was dead of lung cancer at 57.
Heerss voice is velvet, and Cromers stage picture yearns and glows.
You promise to be a loyal American, reads Shirley, unnerved.
Who are you promising this to?
Its a chilling scene and a significant setter of tone or, it should be.
He trusts his actors to pull us to them, which works in some cases but not all.
But they can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use them to those ends.
Otherwise, they are merely wires and lights in a box.
WithGood Night, and Good Luck, Clooney and his collaborators give a dignified and resonant answer.
Good Night, and Good Luckis at the Winter Garden Theatre.
