Death and the Maiden
When a brutal injustice occurs someone (usually a man) quips, “Just give me five minutes alone in a room with them.” Sometimes these fantasies incorporate various instruments of harm, a gun, a baseball bat, or just a pair of fists will do. Chilean playwright Ariel Dorfman examines this improbable scenario by giving the victim, (in this case a woman) the opportunity to face-off with her tormentor for a single day. The possibilities for revenge seem endless. But this moral thriller produces no easy answers to the ethical dilemma of vigilante justice.
Brandishing a gun while holding a seemingly good Samaritan hostage, Paulina (Enci), a woman raped and tortured 15 years ago by a military coup seizes on the opportunity for personal empowerment by exorcising the demons of her past, only to discover that truth and conviction are not so easily had. Her husband, Gerard (Eric Curtis Johnson) is caught between divided loyalties, his wife’s need for vengeance and his political career; both hang in the balance as he clings to his ethical beliefs in the hopes of saving them from self-destruction. Caught in the maelstrom of accusation is one Dr. Roberto Miranda (Benton Jennings) guilty of listening to Schubert and quoting Nietzsche with a voice that betrays his pleas of innocence.
SkyPilot’s production cannot be accused of soft pedaling this revival. Its hard hitting, fast pace is as subtle as using a sledgehammer to crack a walnut shell. The unrelenting momentum never lets up, and rarely finds nuances of humor or tender moments to give some much needed levity for the characters and audience. The singular note of revenge drones on, and the continual pummeling of a heady and vicious trial produces a mind-numbing effect. It is as if director Dado wanted to make sure to get a point across, although that point is unclear.
As a testament to Dorfman’s masterful work, the play can take on several lives of its own. Its NYC premiere in 1992 directed by Mike Nichols and performed by heavyweights Glenn Close, Richard Dreyfuss and Gene Hackman was highly criticized for being too clownish in its verbal volley that much of the intrigue and rising action was lost in the banter. Roman Polanski’s film version pairing off Sigourney Weaver and Ben Kingsley received better reviews even with Dorfman’s revised and rather superfluous edge of the cliff scene between Gerard and Dr. Miranda.
This revival, however, captures the savage irony in the role reversal of victim and assailant, giving a hard examination as to what we would do in similar situations, but stops short of developing any further context, discourse, or emotional underpinnings to tie it down. There is even a change in the dates of Paulina’s kidnapping by over a decade, aggravating the timeline in which this play is set. This raises questions that are never satisfied. Is this set in America? If so, why does Paulina have a thick European accent when the other men do not? These inscrutable choices may not be arbitrary but partly due to circumstance, but it is hard to figure out which is which.
Another crucial problem is the cast failing to reveal let alone recognize the subtle complexities of their characters. With so many contradicting loyalties and conflicting ethics, each one wears a different face depending on who they’re with. The performances here opt out by making easy choices that barely reveals the tip of these iceberg-like roles. Reading between the lines may be as important as knowing the lines in this particular play that can only satisfy if these characters are fully fleshed out.
Considering the lack of strong female characters in theatre, the role of Paulina is meaty enough for any actress to want to sink her teeth into. Unfortunately, Enci gums on the fat instead. Enci is at her best when she’s eavesdropping on Gerard and Dr. Miranda. For all the rest of the show she is over-the-top hysterical. Spitting and spewing the text as if it were bile, Enci trips over her tongue, having to repeat herself for the dialogue to be understood. Her Paulina is the equivalent of a little girl throwing a temper tantrum in the schoolyard. While Paulina’s madness is an obvious choice, it does not have to be the only choice when there are so many facets that are never explored to shine through.
Madness is one side of Paulina who might arguably be the only sane one between the polarized men. She is savvy enough to outsmart her attorney husband and the doctor. She is also witty, pointing out the obvious when she considers evening the score by raping the doctor, but as she cannot, she explains to Gerard that he’d have to carry out the sentence which requires, “a certain degree of enthusiasm” on his part. She is guilt-ridden for having “been too obedient” during her kidnapping. She is angry at Gerard for his infidelity, angry at Miranda for his brutality, and angry that music by her favorite composer, Schubert, is forever tainted. But for all these qualities she is at her core fiercely loyal and devoted to her husband and to her country, sacrificing her need for revenge for the good of both that in their own ways have betrayed her.
For all these qualities of such a fascinating femme fatale, Enci’s choices or lack of as the case may be, never plums the depths or dips a finger in the mercurial emotional brew that drives of what is at its heart, Paulina’s play. Ranting and raving does not devise any empathy, and without that this play has no chops.
The men in this production fare a bit better, but it’s not by much. Benton Jennings is believable as Dr. Miranda, the victim, but not as easy to swallow as Dr. Miranda the aggressor, capable of electrocutions and rape from a power-hungry ego and a clinical morbidity. His admission of crimes against Paulina is barely audible and ultimately forgettable. The impression Jennings leaves the audience is one of all apology with none of the superiority.
Eric Curtis Johnson as Paulina’s husband, Gerard, is passive and unpersuasive. An interesting choice made for a career climbing attorney newly appointed by the president to head a commission ironically investigating crimes by the old regime. It seems unlikely that Gerard would roll over and quit just to humor his wife. Add his infidelity while she was held captive, and his loyalty is fickle at best. This sharp, opportunistic attorney seemingly does not have one arrogant bone in his body or any tricks up his sleeve as Johnson portrays him. Hard to fathom.
The play should be who gets over on whom and how, but this production rushes to get it over with without pausing to examine the intrigue that lies behind these motives.
“Death and the Maiden”
Sidewalk Studio Theatre
4150 Riverside Drive, Burbank