'Biedermann' burns in Black Box
James Gensterblum
Issue date: 10/2/08 Section: Arts
| |
| |
| |
|
Its message, that evil succeeds only if good people choose comfort over stopping it, still holds water. Penned by Swiss playwright Max Frisch, the dark Brechtian comedy portrays an allegorical account of Nazi rise to power in Germany.
Following upper-middle class businessman Gottlieb Biedermann (senior John Scribner), the cowardly, blowhard title character and his anxious wife Babbette (senior Katelyn Rasmussen) the action opens with dangerous arsonist Sepp Schmitz (sophomore Joel Pavelski) alternately flattering and coercing Biedermann into letting him stay in Biedermann's attic.
Despite obvious warning signs and multiple chances to save themselves, the arsonist and his accomplice, Wilma Eisenring (senior Natalie Scarlett), pull the Biedermanns into their schemes.
The Biedermanns acquiesce in hopes of saving themselves. It leads to a tragic end for both the couple and the whole city.
Scribner leads the pack of stellar performances with his portrayal of Biedermann. He captures the character in all his bombastic, spineless foolishness, managing to be both ridiculous and sympathetic.
He might be one-upped by Pavelski, who steals the early scenes as Sepp. Pavelski finds the right balance of charisma, sarcasm and menace that makes his character loathsome and compelling at the same time.
Scarlett is a treat as Sepp's playfully devious accomplice, Wilma Eisenring, and the over-the-top chorus of firemen is also sure to draw plenty of laughs.
The cramped Quilhot Black Box Theatre provides an intimate, almost claustrophobic setting that ratchets up the intensity and immediacy of the action onstage in a way Markel Auditorium never could, a perfect fit for this show. The set design lends the play a wonderfully absurdist yet vaguely threatening feel.
Inaudible or unclear lines occasionally cropped up, posing a problem in the small theatre.
There is an overall lack of subtlety regarding the show's central theme. While crucial to the play, the number of ways in which the script reinforces it grows tiresome.
So be warned: if you prefer plays whose meaning is open to interpretation, this isn't your show.
Still, when Biedermann asks the audience near the end of the play, "Before you judge me…what would you have done differently, if you were in my place?" it's difficult not to wonder if we're more like him than we'd care to admit.
A provoking thought.





Be the first to comment on this story