Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.When John Steinbeck’s novel The Grapes of Wrath was published in 1939, it caused huge controversy because it shone an uncomfortable light on the state of America at the time: climate chaos, refugee crises, extreme poverty, workers’ strikes. Frank Galati’s award-winning adaptation for the stage, originally from 1990 and now in the Lyttleton at the National Theatre, appears in a time not dissimilar.The story’s migrants are the Joad family, driven from their home in Oklahoma by drought and economic hardship and in search of prosperity they believe will be found in the west. This world is established with a cinematic opening montage where actors battle against wind machines and the pull of bungee cords tied around their waists to demonstrate the ferocity of the storms — an inspired trick from movement director Ira Mandela Siobhan. It’s beautiful in its brutality.At almost three hours, the production is overly long and you feel every second. This is in part to do with the drudgery of the subject matter: a long journey by road in a vehicle creaking under the weight of too many people plus everything they own, punctuated by brief encounters with those who have gone before them and their tales of failure and suffering. There is little joy here.Carrie Cracknell’s production features an ensemble of almost 30 led by Succession actor Cherry Jones as Ma Joad, the citadel of the family, a woman so great with love that she is fearsome. Jones’s tender performance is like a warm embrace in which each family member takes turns to shelter from their tribulations. Only once do we see her crack — after she admits to have been travelling with the weight of her mother’s lifeless corpse in her lap, so as not to disturb the progress of the journey.In California the Joads discover that it is not only the homes and the land of the South they have fled that are empty: the whole country is barren, hollowed out by the weather and the greedy rich. This was written 85 years ago but the narrative feels strikingly familiar.Guy Hoare’s lighting evokes the harshness of the Great Depression — relentlessly dark and grainy, with only occasional respite offered by the warmth of sunrise colours that drench the panoramic backdrop to illustrate each passing day.Tom Joad, the favourite son, undergoes the most profound transformation, from selfish and impulsive to mellow and determined after witnessing constant hardships on his travels. Harry Treadaway is quietly fierce in the role, his steady performance charged with arresting intensity in fight scenes.The play ends with the image of a bereaved mother feeding her breast milk to a starving man. After three hours of watching characters harden in response to everything crumbling around them, this selfless gesture offers a reminder of the strength of community as a powerful force.★★★★☆To September 14, nationaltheatre.org.uk
