Artists try to
help us comprehend the unthinkable by deconstructing a violent event or by
satirizing it, when facing it head on is too painful. The murder of six million
is too horrific to fully contemplate. How many of us would watch Schindler’s
List again? Israel Horovitz’s clever LEBENSRAUM (@ Happy Medium Theatre
through May 25th) approaches the subject of the Holocaust from a decidedly
odd but nevertheless compelling angle.
Horovitz invents
a contemporary Germany where a chancellor might announce a restoration of “living
space” to six million Jews, an invitation to reestablish a community in Germany—as amends for the six million-plus
who were put to death in WWII. He maintains that his country is “drowning in a
sea of guilt” but as you might suspect, not everyone agrees with him. Some
forty characters, pro and con, are portrayed by just three actors, in a
whirlwind production helmed by Brett Marks.
The action
unfolds so quickly that at one point, R. Nelson Lacey plays two characters in
the same scene, at the same time, in furious debate with each other. He manages
this by switching hats, voices and body language. It’s a marvelous, hilarious
feat which happily injects some humor into a sad but predictable story of
history repeating itself. Audrey Lynn Sylvia and Michael Underhill
provide the sweet, star crossed romance of the piece, as well as all the
townspeople, immigrants and politicians who rush to take sides.
Germany isn’t
the only country grappling with its past. Stephen Sondheim makes the case in
ASSASSINS (@ Hovey Players through May 31st) that our national
obsession with guns, violence and presidential assassination began a long time
ago, specifically with John Wilkes Booth. Sondheim and book writer John Weidman
were roundly criticized for glorifying violence when ASSASSINS debuted (and
immediately closed) but opinions change over time and the piece is now accepted
as a sardonic indictment of gun violence.
When you see
ASSASSINS now, you realize how prescient Sondheim and Weidman were in 1991. For
one thing, their shooting gallery proprietor hands customers a gun as a cure
for “feeling misunderstood”—and
this was years before the current epidemic of teenage boys who shoot their
classmates for exactly that reason.
And if your
heart doesn’t skip a beat when you hear about the would-be assassin who planned
to “drop a 747 on the White House” twenty-seven years before 9-11, then you’ve
been living on another planet. (Ironically, a second attempt to stage the
musical was scheduled for the fall of 2001 but the attacks of September 11th
ended those plans.)
The musical just
won’t work without a charismatic John Wilkes Booth. He’s the “connection” for
all the assassins and he’s the sole reason that Lee Harvey Oswald decides to
throw in with them. He’s a presence throughout the musical, just watching…and
waiting. He’s the center of the universe and you can’t take your eyes off him:
Ronny Pompeo’s performance is nothing short of thrilling. You know he’s a
villain but you’re drawn to his life force and you’re astonished that you feel
sympathy for the devil.
Bill Stambaugh,
too, turns in an unforgettable performance, a comic coup, as wannabe-assassin
Sam Byck, who makes tape recordings for politicians (and for Sondheim
collaborator Leonard Bernstein), threatening mayhem as payback for his rotten
life. Would you believe, Stambaugh elevates shouting to an art form!
And who would
have imagined that the Squeaky Fromme and Sara Jane Moore scenes would be so
delightful! (I’ve seen more than half a dozen productions of ASSASSINS and this
is the first time those scenes have worked for me.) Rebecca Shor is deliciously
funny as the wacky Moore (a modern day descendant of Mrs. Lovett) and paired
with Jessica Dee as the bonky Fromme, they’re gangbusters.
Director Kristin
Hughes’ vision includes a kinder, gentler Oswald and Christhian Mancinas-Garcia
makes you truly believe he was a pawn (whether you buy the lone gunman theory
or not). It’s a fresh approach and it pays off. Hughes has a number of small
touches which make a big (positive) impact on the musical. She ups the ante for
visceral emotion in the piece, too. I was in the last row in the intimate fifty
seat house and when those guns were pointed in my direction, I felt my skin
crawl and my stomach tighten until the choreography shifted their crosshairs.
Stephen Peters
and Bethany Aiken make the ensemble numbers pop. (In fact, the singing makes you
forget all about a little orchestral lapse at the top of the show.) The
characterizations are so well drawn, the pastiche material is handled so well
and the performers are so in tune with each other that this may be the best
ensemble work I’ve seen this year.
