Date: Fri 24-May-1996

Publication: Bee

Author: SHANNO

Illustration: C

Location: A-12

Quick Words:

theatre-DART-Death-Maiden

Full Text:

(rev "Death & The Maiden" @D'ART, 5/24/96)

Theatre Review-

In `Death,' Which Is More Important?

(with photo)

By Julie Stern

DANBURY - Over the past few years, news accounts of the bloody conflict in

Bosnia troubled the hearts and consciences of anyone who saw them. The

destruction and the waste of human life were so senseless, it was with

overwhelming relief that we welcomed the Dayton peace accord, however

imperfect and shaky it might be.

As the refugees return to their ruined homes, the discovery of mass graves of

villages murdered for the sake of "ethnic cleansing," and the revelation of

countless atrocities perpetrated by Serb soldiers upon Muslin civilians have

led to the establishment of "War Crimes" charges and the promise that those

responsible will be prosecuted and punished.

But this depends upon the cooperation of the Serbian authorities in arresting

the accused criminals and turning them over to the World Court. The more

cynical among us are inclined to suspect that in the end, only a few - of the

very smallest fish - will be sacrificed to such proceedings, while the

generals and leaders who were really behind those policies will continue to

live in comfort and safety.

Which is more important? To get on with the business of life in the recovered

peace, or to settle accounts with the perpetrators of murder? Is it impossible

to have one without the other, or is it only the victims who have a need to

exact vengeance from their torturers before life can go on?

Chilean playwright Ariel Dorfman deals with this hard question in his searing

drama, Death and the Maiden . Set in an unnamed country that is clearly Chile

shortly after the end of the military dictatorship of General August Pinochet,

the play revolves around the interaction of three people.

Paulina Salas, a beautiful, impassioned student, was arrested by government

soldiers and subjected to months of "interrogation" involving repeated rape

and unspeakable torture in an attempt to get her to reveal names of other

opponents of the general's regime. Although she was blindfolded throughout the

abuse, she remembers the voices of her persecutors, particularly the doctor

who participated. This doctor calibrated the exact amount of pain that could

be inflicted without killing her, as he played a continual tape of his

favorite piece of classical music: Schubert's Death and the Maiden .

Fifteen years later, the dictatorship has been replaced by democracy.

Paulina's husband, Gerardo, is exuberant over his appointment to a commission

that will investigate the abuses of the old system. Gerardo sees this as proof

the past will finally be put behind them, and a new and better country will

emerge.

Paulina, however, is still so traumatized by her ordeal she remains an

anxiety-ridden recluse, stalking the confines of their luxury home with a

pistol in hand, panicking at the sound of an unfamiliar car engine.

The car belongs to Roberto Miranda, a good samaritan who stopped to help

Gerardo when his car broke down on the highway, and has accepted an offer to

come in for a drink. Miranda is a physician, spending a quiet weekend at his

beach house. Polite and philosophical, he is very interested in Gerardo's work

on the new commission.

Hovering in the shadows, Paulina listens to the man's voice. She rummages

through his car and discovers a tape of the Schubert piece, and realizes this

is her old tormenter, reborn in the persona of an enthusiastic supporter of

democracy.

After Gerardo courteously invites him to stay the night, Paulina takes him

prisoner, lashes him to a chair and announces her intention to conduct her own

personal war crimes trial.

The play is part mystery, raising the question of whether Mirando really is

the villainous monster she remembers, or whether this is just a paranoid

delusion on Paulina's part and he is simply the innocent stranger Mirando

claims to be. After all, she never saw her torturer's face, it happened

fifteen years ago, and there are no corroborating witnesses.

It is also a drama of ideas, dealing with the interconnection between justice

and vengeance. It also asks whether healing can ever take place without a

score first being settled.

Under Carrie Fernands-Camacho's direction, Death and the Maiden moves at a

high pitch of suspenseful tension. The three principals - Alexandra Tejeda

Rieloff as Paulina, Guillermo Gonzalez as Gerardo, and Francis A. Daley as

Doctor Miranda - are all competent and convincing. Leif Smith's lighting and

set is an eerie construction of abstract shapes made of foil, which changes

suggestively, with differences in lighting to evoke hovering birds of prey.

Troubling and interesting, Death and the Maiden is worth seeing. It is a

serious work that serves to remind that, as Amnesty International reports each

year, state-sponsored torture is an ongoing phenomenon in countries all over

the world. Victims languish in fifth and squalor while uniformed

"interrogators" return to ordinary home life at the end of each working day.

In such situations, the advance of civilization seems to mean only that

technology has supplied fiendish new ways of inflicting pain.

Death and the Maiden is at Danbury Actors Repertory Theatre, St James Church

on West Street, until June 8. Call 790-1161 for tickets.