A couple of weeks ago, I saw a poster for Woodrow Wilson High School's production of Bernard Pomerance's The Elephant Man here in Dallas, Texas. For those of you unacquainted, Pomerance's play won a Tony back in the 80's and was very different in treatment and tone from David Lynch's film of the same name. It's pretty much like comparing potatoes and eggs. I am very fond of Pomerance's play — its lyrical poignance and plainspoken, yet masterful dialogue touches us without being lurid or manipulative.

I've been doing this long enough to expect very little from a high school production, or sadly, any local production of a play that is "deceptively simple." Call me a snob (and you'd be right) if you will, but it's easy to find a play in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex of Texas that is overproduced, undercooked, and overpriced. Still, The Elephant Man is a piece you rarely see performed in "these here parts," so off I went, ready to pony up a sawbuck for a dodgy promise of rapture in the theatre. Understand I was not attending in my "professional capacity." As if I could leave that behind.

The girls singing in the "pinhead choir” were celestial. The lead was inspired. Here was a teenage boy who could cry with sincerity and depth. I’m not being sarcastic here. The problem many guys in high school have with drama is their inability to make themselves vulnerable. I shook the hand of Matthew George, who played John Merrick. He seemed genuinely moved by my enthusiasm, which was also genuine. This young man understood that you have to convey the sensibility of the text.

Your enjoyment in borrowing and inhabiting a life for a few hours, and responding authentically to other characters, is a big part of making the process work. The girl who played Mrs. Kendall, the famous British actress, was competent if not inspired, but the rest of the performers (even the good ones) rushed lines and you couldn't understand what they were saying.

The director, Jim Baird, made some odd choices. He cast two teenage women in leading male roles — one as Gomm and the other as Dr. Frederick Treves. I'm guessing he felt none of the other males had the chops to make these roles work. Whenever I've seen a production where they claimed the role was "gender neutral," or in this case when the actress was capable of playing a male, it never seems to work out. Mr. Baird may have decided if she actually tried to pass for male, it would be too distracting and he probably would have been right. Something kind of odd about seeing two sweet female ingénues in three piece suits with cravats. They were nearly genderless; still, the nature of charity (in the biblical sense) and attachment behind one man rescuing and redeeming another is very different from that of a woman. In some ways, the gender substitution seemed like the least of their problems.