The actor walked out on stage. “My name is Bill,” he said. And almost an entire theater’s worth of people responded, pretty much in unison.
“Hi, Bill.”
That was my first clue that the new show at the Richard Christiansen Theatre at the Biograph, “Bill W. and Dr. Bob,” was not my usual Sunday afternoon at the theater. The second clue came at intermission, when the typical low hum of conversation between companions was replaced more by a level of chatter you find at college reunions. Strangers were talking, reaching out to people in rows in front of them and behind.
One lovely man turned to me. “Are you on assignment?” he asked gently, tentatively. “Or are you …?”
Anyone who has taken a cruise, or been at a large resort, likely has seen “Friends of Bill W.” on the schedule of activities. That’s code, of course, for a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, the organization dedicated to the idea that recovery from alcoholism can best be achieved by interacting with fellow alcoholics already on board with changing their lives. Aside from its foundational belief in peer leadership and dedication to anonymity, A.A. is perhaps best known for its 12-step program and, more controversially, for its referencing of a higher spiritual power — although it long has said that the scope and definition of any deity should be up to the individual member. Incontrovertibly, A.A. has helped a lot of people. And many of them had gathered inside the historic Biograph Theatre to hear something of the organization’s history.
The events in this minimally staged play take place in the 1930s, mostly in Akron, Ohio. They follow the meeting of a New York stockbroker named Bill Wilson (who died in 1971) and an older Akron surgeon named Bob Smith (1879-1950), and the two men’s early attempts to help other people get and stay sober, initially as a way to keep from having a drink themselves. The fine actor Ronnie Marmo, best known for playing Lenny Bruce and himself a member of A.A. for decades, plays Bill W. Steve Gelder plays Dr. Bob. The supporting cast includes Katherine Wettermann, Elizabeth Rude, Marla Seidell and Phil Aman, who takes an especially deep dive. Marmo has spoken in public about how A.A. saved his life; I don’t know about the other actors, and, anyway, personal experience hardly is a requirement.
“Bill W. and Dr. Bob” is a very straightforward bio-play, replete with narration and leavened with some wry humor. Penned by Stephen Bergman (aka Samuel Shem) and Janet Surrey in 1990, the piece already has been off-Broadway and even filmed under the sponsorship of a recovery organization. Marmo directs here and what we have is only slightly elevated above a staged reading. Still, it’s an interesting slice of Midwest history and the values of A.A. are baked therein. But I was struck by the lack of sentimentality and the pervasive sense of humility, another important virtue within the value system of this organization.
Would I recommend “Bill W. and Dr. Bob” to those with no connection to Alcoholics Anonymous? Probably not, although alcoholics impact the lives of their family and thus there is a whole raft of people out there who feel a similar level of gratitude to the organization, even if they were never burdened by the addiction themselves. Many of them were there on Sunday, clearly, sitting next to the person they loved. It was a moving sight, even though everyone was enjoying themselves.
So not the usual kind of show. Not the usual kind of audience. Certainly not a gathering needing the usual kind of review. But a very positive and practical rebirth for the long-dark Biograph, nonetheless. I can’t overstate how glad I am that I went.
Through April 14 at the Biograph Theatre, 2433 N. Lincoln Ave.; billwanddrbobonstage.com
Chris Jones is a Tribune critic.
cjones5@chicagotribune.com
