Named after the Schubert Quartet around which much of the plot circles, Death and the Maiden raises questions of trust, women’’s empowerment, the nature of true justice, the role of silence in healing, forgiving, forgetting and the existence if objective truth, but provides few answers. The three-person cast does a decent job with an extremely demanding script: With little room to manoeuver and tighty-conscribed actions, they convince us of their anguish, if not of their motivation. The production certainly isn’t bad, but isn’t splendid. It makes you think, but not brood. In short, the Nomadic Theatre and director Chris Maring (CAS ‘02) may have bitten off more than they can chew.
Death and the Maiden is set in an unnamed South American country (that is, according to the script, “probably Chile”) experiencing democracy for the first time after a 17-year military regime. Written by Argentinian-born Chilean Ariel Dorfman following his return to Chile after 17 years of exile, the play follows the story of a woman, who, hearing what she is sure is the voice of the Schubert-loving doctor who had raped and tortured her 15 years previously when she was a political prisoner of the military regime in power, takes him hostage and puts him on trial. She is unwillingly assisted by her husband, a lawyer recently named to the commision charged with investigating the murders committed by the previous regime.
With only three people carrying the burden of the entire two-and-a-half-hour play, the cast needs to be focused on both its personal developments and on the chemistry of the group. Paulina Salas, former medical student and dissident under the military regime, is played by Elizabeth Fountain (CAS ‘02). As a woman on the edge and frequently over it?or is she??Fountain is largely assured but occasionally awkward as she careers between her desire for vengence and her desire to heal. Carlos Valdivia (CAS ‘03) as the preeminately reasonable Gerardo gives an understated performance. His second-act blowup is shocking and dramatic without being melodramatic. However, it would be nice to get more of a sense of that same rage boiling under the surface in the rest of his scenes. As the man suspected of being Paulina’s tormenter two decades before, Michael Benz (CAS ‘04) as Roberto Miranda is good in a difficult role. Tied to a chair for the majority of the play and often peripheral to the scenes between Paulina and Gerardo, Benz has presence, crucial in the embodiment of a man who may or may not be the monster he is accused of being. The individual actors are good, and there are moments when their chemistry really hums?in the third act, for example, when Paulina and Roberto’s narratives overlap in the darkness. But these moments are the exception, rather than the rule. In most scenes, the three circle each other like magnets of opposite polarity, striving to click but forever pushed away.
The set, by Julia Diamond (CAS ‘02), makes an advantage of the tiny space of Bulldog Alley. Slightly shabby and spare, the ordinary homliness and homeyness of the beach house underscores how at once foreign and uncomfortably normal the intrusion of the past is into their lives. Bulldog Alley makes for an intimate venue: Riser seating set askew from the stage means that the action takes place almost literally under one’s nose, which reflects and amplifies the nearness and rawness of the action. The sound effects are well-designed, but too frequently drown out the actors (unfortunately, so does the air conditioning system). The light design is generally good, although during the crucial scene where Paulina comes to believe that the man sitting in her living room is the man who had tortured and raped her 17 years earlier, there is no light on the “terrace” portion of the stage where she is sitting in isolation. To be fair, the reviewed press run of the show is a dress rehersal, and perhaps the scene is meant to be illuminated. However, shrouded in darkness, Fountain’s growing certainty is totally lost, unless your eyes happen to wander to the corner of the stage where she sits hunched in horror and panic.
Death and the Maiden is a challenging and intricate piece of theatre. Nomadic’s production presents it clearly and makes it understood, but it lacks the spark to make the connnection not just intellectual, but really visceral.
Death and the Maiden is running in Bulldog Alley Jan. 31 and Feb. 1-3. All performances will be at 8 p.m., except for the Feb. 3 performance, which will be at 2 p.m. All tickets are $7.
