This story is free to read because readers choose to support LAist. If you find value in independent local reporting, make a donation to power our newsroom today.
This archival content was originally written for and published on KPCC.org. Keep in mind that links and images may no longer work — and references may be outdated.
Actor Davis Gaines on his role in 'Parade'
On August 25, 1913, a Brooklyn Jew named Leo Frank was convicted of killing 13-year-old Mary Phagan in a pencil factory in Atlanta, Georgia. Frank was the superintendent; Phagan, a lowly worker who made $1.20 that week. The trial came at a crucial time in the South, when memories of the Civil War still lent hostilities toward northern industrialists, like Frank, who'd settled there.
The play "Parade" at the Mark Taper Forum depicts the events surrounding Leo Frank's arrest, conviction, and subsequent lynching.
One of the ensemble members is Davis Gaines, perhaps best known for his time as the Phantom of the Opera. One of his roles in "Parade" is that of an old Civil War soldier. KPCC's Steve Julian asked why this production matters to him.
Davis Gaines: Well, I am from the South and I grew up with this Southern pride instilled in me from both sides of my family. I think of my grandfather every night before I start that moment because I think he would be proud, in a way, that I’m doing that and also about how he felt about the South. It means a lot. I picture him before I become the Old Soldier, so it helps.
Steve Julian: At its core, Parade tells a story of prejudice, ignorance, and the rush to judgment.
Gaines: It’s a very complicated show. I’ve heard people leave at intermission thinking that’s all there is, but the second act is so powerful and takes a turn on itself, and the resolution is just amazing. But I hope people don’t come thinking it’s some fluffy musical, because it’s not.
Julian: It's understandable that some would leave at intermission. Act One ends in a terrible, evocative manner – Leo Frank has been convicted of murder. Atlanta is joyous.
The ensemble lifts up Leo and his wife in separate chairs, as a wedding party would raise a Jewish bride and bridegroom, but the celebration is at their expense. Cast member Michael Berresse had danced a similar, yet wholly different, scene in Fiddler on the Roof.
Michael Berresse: The whole wedding sequence for me in Fiddler was a really beautiful, really profound experience for me as an actor, and this sort of macabre, grotesque take on that tradition within the context of this trial was very uncomfortable for me the first time we did it.
And now I really celebrate the fact that it has the kind of impact it does on people like you, and that would not be possible if we were not able to commit 100 percent to it – we have to really embrace it.
Gaines: People were dancing in the streets when that verdict was given down and people were ecstatic that he was convicted, and it’s that kind of morbid, morose kind of dance that people did to celebrate someone’s conviction. The Monkey Dance.
If you come away from the first act feeling uncomfortable or weird, that’s what we wanted. And I think that’s why some people might leave at intermission, because they can’t take it or they don’t understand it or they think it’s too weird or too strange, but that was what happened.
Julian: Act Two, however, offers glimmers of hope, as Leo Frank's wife, Lucille, does all she can to get Governor Jack Slaton to take a fresh look at his case, to look at evidence against another possible suspect – night janitor James Conley, a black man. Eventually, on the day before Jack Slaton leaves office (and leaves politics for good), he commutes Leo Frank's death sentence to life in prison.
Berresse: Part of the reason he felt that obligation was that Jim Conley’s own lawyer expressed grave concern about his innocence, and the judge actually expressed concern over the lack of Leo Frank’s guilt and the way the trial was handled.
So it wasn’t just the governor who was suspicious about the proceedings, the popular consensus at the time was that injustice was perpetrated, but there was no way to stop that mob mentality.
Julian: ... As is so often the case. I believe it was pure coincidence that, when I asked Davis Gaines what song he would choose to sing at a cocktail party if told he must, thought first about a rendition he likes of a 1927 song. It's from the musical Showboat, and tells the story of black dockworkers along the Mississippi River.
Gaines (singing): Old man river, that old man river, he must know something, but don't say nothing; he just keeps rolling, he just keeps rolling along.
Julian: As do signs today of prejudice, ignorance, and our rush to judgment.