2

“Terror,” a new play by Ferdinand von Schirach

Written by:
Aaron Krause
Share This:

MIAMI BEACH — As the riveting, disturbing and heartbreaking play “Terror” illustrates, in our
post-Sept. 11 world, black and white morality can blow up in pieces, leaving lots of
grey – just like the shattered, shot-down civilian commercial jet at the center of the new play,
leaving shards and grey smoke.

Miami New Drama, a bold, meaty Miami Beach nonprofit theater company, is powerfully
presenting the American premiere of “Terror” by German lawyer and celebrated writer
Ferdinand von Schirach, whom you might call the “German John Grisham.”

The articulately-written play provokes thought and spurs discussion while avoiding material merely meant to
shock. Thankfully, there are no projection clips of war or terror attacks, which we’ve seen too
often on television to the point that we’re numb to such images.

“Terror,” which runs through Feb. 19 at Miami New Drama’s home, the historic Colony Theatre
on Lincoln Road, isn’t your typical play.

While you’re a paying audience member , your participation is essential. You decide the fate of
the defendant by casting a ballot. Is she guilty of the murder of 150 people – including a 4-
year-old child, who was on board a flight from Miami to Los Angeles? The actors play out the
ending according to how the audience votes.

In this courtroom drama, Air Force Lt. Diana Salazar, a military pilot, has shot d own a the plane
with 164 people on board. Hijackers have commandeered the aircraft and plan to fly it into
Atlanta’s Turner Field, where the Major League Baseball Braves play. There are 50,000 people
watching the game in the stadium.

Salazar, flying alongside the hijacked plane, doesn’t want to see so many spectators die.
The play raises questions: Are the lives of 50,000 people more valuable than 164?
“Life cannot be measured in numbers,” one of the characters states. “Humanity is not a
market.”

The play, which lends equal weight to Salazar’s argument and that of the prosecution, leaves us with much to
ponder before we cast “guilty” or “not guilty” votes.

Evidence, for example, is presented that culpability lies not only with Salazar’s action, but the action (or
inaction) of military officials. Did Salazar, who never denies killing the people on board, listen to her superiors before firing the fatal shots? Compounding the problem for the court is that “( the) law and personal morality must be kept
separate.”

The play is presented on a stage which looks like a realistic courtroom, complete with a seal
and uniformed officers. Some audience members sit on stage, in an arrangement that suggests
they are real jurors. It’s a shame we can’t all sit on stage, but the word is there’s only so much
space on the Colony stage.

The roughly two-hour play is directed with assurance by Two-Time Tony-Award-winning
director Gregory Mosher. He’s helped the cast disappear into their roles, portraying the
characters with astonishing spontaneity, realism and nuance.

The prod uction includes Mia Maestro’s self-confident, honorable Salazar, who could convey a
bit more remorse to enhance her humanity; a forceful, assured but not overzealous Pascale
Armand as the prosecutor; a sincere, eager Peter Romano as the defense attorney; Rita Joe as
a grieving witness filled with palpable anguish and disdain for Salazar; Gregg Weiner as an
intense, alert, seemingl y dutiful military officer and Maria Tucci as a wise, fair judge.
Hopefully, these talented folks comprise one the first of many more American and foreign casts
to tackle this scorching, relevant play that should leave us all thinking about the costs of war,
terror and the preciousness of human life.

“Philadelphia, Here I Come!” is the third play in the Irish Repertory Theatre’s Brian Friel season and, happily, it lives...
Bertolt Brecht’s “The Good Person of Setzuan” is a monster of a play to stage for contemporary audiences, it’s long,...
True confessions of a theater critic: I saw neither the original production, nor have I seen the movie, Funny Girl....
Search CultureVulture