By Jackie Demaline
The Cincinnati Enquirer

War is never kind and gentle, but World War II was fought in an era not overwhelmed by supersonic technology, 24-hour infotainment and a society stricken by stress-related disorders.

Mister Roberts, the final play in the Playhouse in the Park Marx Theatre season, premiered just after WWII.

Its cast of more than 20 makes it Shakespearian in size as it chronicles the everyday drudgery of wartime aboard a Navy attack cargo ship in the South Pacific.

It was one of the plays that created the template for countless others: the creep of a commanding officer; the noble junior officer who sacrifices himself for his men; the charming goldbrick; and the everyday enlisted lugs who do their best to keep us out of harm's way.

But most audiences today aren't even old enough to remember Korea, much less WWII. What we know (and are comfortable with) is the sass and cynicism that has evolved through later wars like Vietnam, and the current conflict in Iraq.

Which is all a way of saying that while Mister Roberts' message of quiet, everyday heroism can never be dated, the show itself is not timeless, as, say, Ah! Wilderness!, another American classic recently revived by Playhouse and directed by Ed Stern.

It invited us to rediscover and reconsider that which we already know. (As did classically based Metamorphoses from earlier this season.)

Mister Roberts, in a sterling production, reminds us. And it reminds that art is subjective. Some people are going to embrace the return to a kinder, gentler social era in America; others are going to be impatient that it tells us what we already know in a way we already know.

On a spectacular set by Paul Shortt that puts us front and center on deck of the AK601, (and, thanks to a turntable, in various inside quarters) we meet the men of The Reluctant.

While Robert Elliott isn't the title character, I'll put him first. Elliott gives one of his flawless supporting performances (like his dazzling work in Proof), as the mean-spirited but cunning captain, a former merchant seaman who hates college boys and has spite and bile instead of blood.

Bill Doyle is Mister Roberts, the guy who gave up medical school to fight for his country, who stands up for his men in this ironclad cuckoo's nest, and who aches to see battle in the war that's winding to a close. (Broadcasts announce the approach and reality of VE Day.)

Doyle plays it with sincerity (and a faint whiff of Henry Fonda, who starred in the movie), but he doesn't hold the stage against Elliott, and he didn't catch my heart.

Mister Roberts is manned with Playhouse veterans, all of them doing terrific work.

Joneal Joplin is grand as the warm and clear-eyed ship's doctor, and Greg McFadden bounces off the walls as shallow Ensign Pulver, who ducks and covers his way across the Pacific (with endless hollow plans of insubordination.)

Mark Mineart, Andre Marrero, Geoffrey Molloy and Jim Holdridge make a fine crew.

Mister Roberts runs through May 28 at Playhouse's Marx Theatre. 421-3888.

E-mail jdemaline@enquirer.com