A late night survey of New York Times headlines captured my attention: "C.I.A. Said to Aid in Steering Arms to Syrian Rebels." Having just returned from J.T. Rogers's exercise in arms games, Blood and Gifts, the headline's irony crossed my face with a grim smile. Mr. Rogers's play chronicles the 1980s Afghan-Soviet war and American under-the-radar arms supply. It is refreshingly restrained with only single uses of f*ck and sh*t, no small accomplishment.
Special kudos go to Ursula Meyer for her superb work as the accent coach and language coordinator.
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| Demosthenes Chrysan |
Where some spies delve for accurate information, Mr. Roger's spies aggressively trade ambiguities. When CIA operative James Warnock repeatedly instructs desert militia not to use his gifts of artillery for assassinating Soviet officers he barks, "Do you understand what I just said?" The nomads reply "No," and the satisfied Warnock purrs, "Good." Paradoxically, after tossing down a duffel bag of dollars he soon learns a cassette of "Hot in the City" is also valuable tender for information.
So goes the recurring compartmenting. For civilians, "compartmenting" is the CIA term for "have-a-need-to-know" information, the preferred maneuver employed to sinister effect. "We did not have this conversation," terminates a debate. However, ominous dialogue create little theatrical danger.
Demosthenes Chrysan recreates his role from the National Theatre. As the pivotal warlord, Abdullah Khan, he is a bearish multifarious commander who repeatedly checkmates to assure primogeniture in his tribe. Squeezed into an Armani suit and further pressured by a Washington spin-doctor to perform U.S. propaganda is a comic highlight.
Though his performance is Russian-Lite, Triney Sandoval as the rueful Gromov finds the right balance of humor and disillusionment.
UCSD's student actors blend into the scenery in non-speaking roles and are vocally wan when called upon to speak.
The play's moral center is MI6 agent Simon Craig, a dyed-in-the-wool Brit portrayal by Daniel Pierce. He is an ambulatory casualty of this last generation cold war. The alcoholic Simon wrestles his conscience daily. His frustration so legion he bold-facedly asks Warnock, "Is your word any good?" and expects an honest answer. Even as his sense of humanity swarms his head he quips of an obstinate Pakistani Colonel, "Let's shoot him." He's dead serious.
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| Kelly AuCoin (L) and Daniel Pierce |
As our patriot field agent, Kelly AuCoin plays Warnock with government issue machismo, which elicits little audience empathy. His Warnock's anger jumps for zero to 80 in two seconds with network television precision. When called to attend his wife's complicated delivery he chooses to continue back room politics. As with most of Blood and Gifts, the impacts continue to the head, not the heart.
When stung by a stinger missile sale gone bad, Warnock reluctantly acknowledges his responsibility for wholesale slaughter. Sounds glib? Ultimately, glib is the evening's tone.
American ears are conditioned to glib journalism and grown numb with reports of atrocities. When "take out" is the euphemism for assassinate and spoken with the casualness of "supersize me" we have sunk to a deeper level of denial.
Blood and Gifts smartly fills La Jolla Playhouse's "outraged leftist " slot for the season, which becomes increasingly formulaic.
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Through July 8, 2012
lajollaplayhouse.org
Photos by Craig Schwartz.
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A Goya (1746-1828) illustration of war's insanity came to mind postscript.
Los Desatres de la Guerra (Bury Them and Keep Quiet). Image courtesy of franciscodegoya.net.
