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The difference is like night and day. Not coincidentally, that
happens to be the title of the 1978 Tom Stoppard play at American Conservatory Theatre
(ACT). And the difference between Night and Day and Stoppards later work
such as the sublime Arcadia or the screenplay for Shakespeare
in Love or even the much earlier Jumpers is
well, I already said it.
One wonders what possessed ACT to
put this play before the public, other than artistic director Carey Perloffs evident
desire to run through the entire Stoppard canon. The theater has done splendid work in
recent years with Arcadia, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (also an early work) and The
Invention of Love. But Night and Day is something of a sleeping dog.
Better to have left it alone. One also wonders what the playwright himself, in attendance
at the opening, felt, sitting in the dark watching his youthful effort stumble and
sometimes fall flat on the stage before him. Did he squirm in his seat? Some of the rest
of us did.
Night and Day is a
story of the difficulties faced by journalists in foreign war zones, here a set of Brits
in a fictional African dictatorship, calling up long-ago visions of Idi Amin. Stoppard,
himself a journalist in his early career, sets out to offer some insights into the tricks
of the trade. Like, wow guys, its a tough gig. Politics and big business kind of
sleep together and both use the press for their own ends. And the press uses them.
Reporters mostly hang around hotel bars, drinking too much and looking over each
others shoulders. A few are high-minded (particularly in the beginning) but many
would sell their mothers into slavery for a scoop. And, when the action gets hot and the
blood boils almost all of them will put their life on the line.
Well duh! Tell us something we
dont already know, Tom. All this has been said and said better in films like The Year of Living Dangerously and The Killing Fields. Not to mention the nightly news. The tragic
tale of Daniel Pearl still echoing in our collective nightmares, Stoppard sends in his own
clowns.
They include George Guthrie, a
grizzled veteran of Viet Nam War coverage, a photographer who is, perhaps, the best of the
bunch. Paul Whitworth, who plays him, certainly is the best actor on the stage. His
sometime-partner, Dick Wagner (too many Richard Wagner jokes here), a smarmy Australian,
needs to get the big story for the Globe and not much will stop him. ACT ensemble member
Marco Barricelli plays him with a phony accent and an unsympathetic air. Although we
suspect that he is the protagonist of this little drama, we really dont much care if
he gets his head blown off or not. The third member of this particular press corps is
Jacob Milne (T. Edward Webster), a green free-lancer who lucks into an interview with the
insurgent commander, as well as into the knickers of the bored wife of a local
mine owner. Jacob is such a naïve weakling it's hard to care what happens to him either.
Cherchez la femme and
there's always a femme. Sex sells and Stoppard borrows his from all those old Africa films
like Mogambo, Elephant Walk and King Solomons Mines. In case anybody doesn't get it, the
heroine, Ruth (a very pretty Rene Augesen) keeps quoting from the movies in asides to the
audience. She is a kind of parody of herself parodying Ava Gardner, Elizabeth Taylor and
Deborah Kerr, who, in turn, are parodies of women in real life. Its kind of a clever
device the first time around but it keeps coming back again and again. Augesen does the
best she can with the material but her bored sexpot remains a one-dimensional cartoon
character, as does that of her husband, Geoff (Anthony Fusco), a titled mine-owner playing
the dictator and the insurgents against each other to save his own assets. Fusco is
properly stiff and boring in the part.
Last among the principals is
Steven Anthony Jones as President Mageeba, the volatile dictator who shows up in the wee
hours of the second act to have his say and beat up one of the reporters while hes
at it. Jones is pretty scary in the role (Can one smile and smile and still be a
villain? asked Shakespeare) and you wouldnt want to drive around his turf on a
dark night. Nevertheless, it is hard to imagine that the president of a country, embroiled
in a civil war, would take the time to engage in a lengthy debate about freedom of the
press.
From the ranting of Mageeba and
Jacobs love song to the Fourth Estate to the real or imagined seductions of Ruth, Night
and Day comes off as a B movie, presented live. There are a few laughs here and there
but the best thing about it is Annie Smarts spiffy set. And thats not enough
to spend a night or day in a theater seat.
September 27, 2002 - Suzanne Weiss