G. B. Shaw
set his relatively early and sole
"American play" in 1777 New Hampshire, with British soldiers, anxious
to quash the Revolution, hanging suspected rebels right and left. After
killing
an exemplary one, Peter Dudgeon, they've moved to the next town, where
the
family of his brother, also newly deceased, gathers to hear his will.
Into the
spare, dimly lit house maintained by his self-righteous widow
(long-faced
Carolyn Michel, cheerlessly
smug) sweeps their first-born. Typically
irreverent, outcast Dick
Dudgeon elicits his mother's rejection, the hypocritical disapproval of
alcoholic Uncle Titus (David Yearta,
sheepish), surprise from fat-witted young
brother Christy (very funny Kevin
O'Callaghan, always seeking approval or
possessions), but awe from Peter Dudgeon's brown and barefoot offspring
Essie
(Michelle Trachtenberg, with
nerves always on the surface). In the
titular role, that Dick explains
he readily took upon himself, rejecting a Puritan God, he intrigues
Rev.
Anthony Anderson (full-of-life James
Clarke), come to comfort the supposed
bereaved. But Dick dismays the parson's pious, 20-years-younger wife
Judith
(pretty Heather Kelley,
conveying constant emotional struggles).
The will, which the widow Dudgeon sneakily tried
to
replace to her own advantage, is read with approval by sensible Lawyer
Hawkins
(David Breitbarth). It
bequeaths Dick most of the estate, including care of his
mother, but she leaves, cursing him. Since he's acknowledged his
widespread
speeches against King George and tried to drum up rebels, Dudgeon risks
that
the British, led by imperious Major Swindon (
When soldiers arrive, they mistake Dick, alone at
table
with Judith, for her husband, whom they've come to arrest. Dick
immediately
takes his place, impressing on Judith that she go along with the
subterfuge and
get her husband out of harm's way. A bungling Sergeant (
Shaw has his wittiest way with the exchanges
between
General Burgoyne (Douglas Jones,
emphasizing the knowing but exasperated
"Gentleman" as Johnny was called) and ninny Swindon with devilish
Dick. Or is Dudgeon, as Shaw said, a truly religious man? After all, he
may be
freethinking, but isn't freedom--including of beliefs and from
tyranny--what
the American rebellion he's part of is about? Doesn't he provide for
Essie and
accept his silly brother, try to rally and help the townspeople, stop
Swindon
from bullying Judith, and accept the supreme sacrifice in Anderson's
behalf?
It's clear that Dan Donahue believes in him and as him. In addition,
Dick's
first to point out the true nature of Anderson (so strongly brought out
by
James Clarke).
What, then, to think of much publicized changes
and
truncations director Tony Walton
made? A perusal of the script he used,
originally devised for the Irish Repertory in New York with its
miniscule stage
and budget, shows that he eliminated bands and used only a few soldiers
and a
double (unacknowledged in the program) for a chaplain. Instead of
townspeople,
he projected at the gallows scene a ravens-like crowd. The relatively
few lines
and extra words he added convey Walton's interpretation of the play as
a
message against religious extremism. Certainly that's a theme of
Shaw's, but
not the only one. According to traditional commentators, the main one
concerns
individuals finding their true identities and acting accordingly. When
Walton
emphasizes Judith's romantic attitude toward Dick and lets him flirt
with
returning it (as publicity
pictures promote), he is going against Shaw's grain. The playwright
railed
against critics who felt romantic feelings toward Judith motivated Dick
Dudgeon
to save her husband. In fact, Shaw was seeing in Dick an example of
everyday
heroes who risk their lives to save people they don't know, much less
love,
from fires and floods and pandemics. Since Sartre, Dick may well be
noted as a
type of existential hero. The devil's only in the details that
characterize his
heroic actions.
What somewhat obscures Dick's centrality to the
action
(and may heighten Rev. Anderson's) is the penchant, common in the last
50 years
or so, for turning three acts into two. If each of the three comes on
separately, the structure is clear. In the first act, Dick triumphs
over mean
and stupid family opposition in the guise of religious sanctity. Then
he
parries with the minister and especially his wife in behalf of
free-thinking to
make the best of this world. In the last act, he takes on a chaplain, a
major,
and a general, winning arguments against untruths, hypocrisy, cruelty
and
suppression of thought. But at Asolo Rep, romantic possibilities are
stressed
by their positioning in a lengthy first act and by the amount of time,
especially in the tea scene, devoted to them. For
too long Dick seems less central than Dick-and-Judith.
On the definitely positive side are the authentic
costumes co-designed by Walton and Rebecca
Lustig, along with the
velvet-bedecked throne at town center that becomes a gallows.