That Is True To Wasserman’s Original Work

By Julie Stern

NEW HAVEN — Most people have seen Man of La Mancha already in some form or venue, so, as Long Wharf’s artistic director, Gordon Edelstein, asks in his introduction to the program notes, why should you go see it again? Perhaps because this current incarnation, brought from Chicago’s Court Theater where it won every musical award possible, is decisively new, powerful, serious, timely, and yet more true to playwright Dale Wasserman’s original intention than any interpretation that’s been done in a long time.

Miguel de Cervantes had a bitterly difficult existence. Crippled for life as a young soldier fighting for his king, he was captured by Turkish pirates and held for ransom in a North African prison for five years. When he was finally returned to his beloved Spain, the Inquisition was in full force. After years of struggling to work as an actor and playwright, while supporting himself as a tax collector, he was denounced to the Inquisition on a trumped up charge and spent seven months languishing in a dingy, overcrowded Seville prison, before being released.

It was in that prison that he began work on his masterpiece, the story of an idealistic country gentleman, Alonso Quijana, who was so deeply moved by the stories he read of the golden age of chivalry, that in his imagination he transformed himself into a modern knight errant, Don Quixote de la Mancha. Longing to perform great deeds and to fight for truth and justice, he gave the word quixotic to the language as he attacked windmills that he thought to be dragons, and chose a crude scullery maid as his liege lady.

Wasserman’s play begins with Cervantes being thrown into the prison population, a collection of lost and hapless souls dominated by the most brutal thugs. They knock him around and steal his clothes, but the one thing he clings to is the precious manuscript he is working on. When the prisoners hold a mock trial to justify taking that as well, Cervantes mounts a defense by acting out the character of Quijana/Quixote, and having the prisoners play the others roles in the story.

Unlike many productions which pack the show with whimsical props and fanciful settings, this version, directed by Charles Newell and Doug Peck, relies on the haunting and powerful music and lyrics by Mitch Leigh and Joe Darion to hold the audience’s attention. There are no overtures, no chorus, no dancing. The action never leaves the dungeon, and the grim reality of the Inquisition looms over everything, even as Quixote’s vision of human dignity and decency shines through his inevitable defeat. As they take on their roles in his story, the ragged inmates gradually change from vicious mockery to sympathy and respect.

John Culbert’s  stage set, Jacqueline Firkins’ costume design, Mark McCullough’s lighting, and Joshua Horvath’s sound all combine to create a seamless tableau that recalls paintings by Goya. In the title role, Herbert Perry’s “Impossible Dream” becomes the moral rebuttal of a world in which the authorities claim the right to abuse hapless prisoners and apply torture as a means of getting at the “truth” The rest of the ensemble work together in perfect harmony.

And in case anyone in the audience missed the message, an exhibit in the lobby juxtaposes illustrations of Torquemada with cellphone pictures from Abu Ghraib. As a musical, dramatic, theatrical, intellectual experience, this Man of La Mancha  is definitely worth a trip to New Haven’s Long Wharf.

(Performances continue Tuesday through Saturday evenings, and Saturday, Sunday and Wednesday afternoons, until March 18. Tickets are $31.25 to $61.25.

See the Enjoy calendar, or call 203-787-4282 or visit LongWharf.org for additional details and reservations.)