When We Go Upon The Sea

InterAct Theatre Company presents the world premiere of Lee Blessing's When We Go Upon the Sea. "The first step to something actually happening is for us to imagine it," the playwright said at a talkback for one lucky matinee audience in late April. A lot of us might like to imagine the scenario of Blessing's latest: George W. Bush contemplates a view of the changeable sea from the sterile warmth of a hotel in The Hague, facing the start of his trial for international war crimes. But Blessing's play is by no means a vehicle for easy shots on the former President. Blessing, Director Paul Meshejian, and a superb cast (Conan McCarty, Peter Schmitz and Kim Carson) have much more important things to unearth.

Blessing does deftly reveal a man with all the foibles, gaffes and indefatigable pride we might expect to see in an onstage W. Yes, we're going to discuss the "terrorists" and an almost megalomaniacal certainty in the United States' ability (and even right) to swamp other countries, figuratively or even literally. W will rail against the bizarre turn of events that marks him as a defendant in a court that was established to spank dictators of Serbia or the Congo - not US leaders ("if they can try me, they can try anyone!"). Bush's characteristic vocal fumbling comes out not just in the vocabulary he can't comprehend, but in his overt pride in the words he has mastered. Blessing's Bush tries to emphasize the distinction between "necessary harm" and criminal behavior, and gives a bald elucidation of what lawmaking really is: "policy means 'because we say
so'." Can we say he's wrong?

But Conan McCarty's Bush is an intensely human, grounded performance, and the dialogue Blessing fashions through Bush's mouth on supremacy, justice, annihilation, and even the indignity of a corporate jet over the pomp of Air Force One is less a meditation on a single character receding from world politics, and more an uncomfortably recognizable journey through universal human qualities destined to repeat in any leader of the future. When Piet (Schmitz), the accommodating yet inscrutable butler, says that Bush will "come back" or be "rehabilitated", it's not just an idea of the potential resurrection of Bush's own legacy - it's an allusion to the realities of the cyclical nature of generations of political leaders' downfalls and triumphs. McCarty is a native of Bush's own home county in Texas, and his performance is not an impersonation, but an embodiment of a real piece of American life, and a reminder that understanding our leaders might just be best done with a hard look at ourselves.

Peter Schmitz's eminently sleek Piet lucidly echoes Bush's blunt sentiments with a mild interest, and later mention of the reality of Bush's relative insulation from dissent during his time in office underscores a human public's role in reflecting (or buoying) the confidence or complacency of its leaders - even if this faithful stasis proves fatal for thousands of others. Kim Carson as enigmatic "relaxationist" Anna-Lisa brings sensual sparks as well as a poignant, intelligent depth. Blessing helps to make another incisive comment on the American public when his Bush faces his trial for war crimes with relative equanimity, but falls to paranoid pieces at the prospect of an imagined secret camera leaking his sexual infidelity to the public. "Who would care about a disgraced politician breaking his wedding vows?" Piet intones comfortingly. But of course, as Clinton and many others could tell this incarnation of Bush, though the philandering politician is an utter clich�, the American public cares a great deal (sometimes it seems like they can focus on little else). Naturally, Blessing remarks in the talkback, these indiscretions "are a much safer thing for us to worry about" than actual questions of national policy.

Paul Meshejian's masterful direction mines a fresh, absorbing new tenor for each segment of the play that is more than the role of bourbon, drugs and sex in the former President's last night before trial. Chris Colucci's superb Sound Design is no less than an orchestration of ships coming to harbor, evocations of military beats and trumpet charges, distant helicopters, the cautioning voice of eerie strings, whispering waves and seagulls. The broad yet subtle theatricality of the sound is matched by the colorful, slightly sinister nuances of Thom Weaver's lights. Set Designer Meghan Jones's hotel suite has a sophisticated solidity that uses perfect scaling in every detail to realistically inhabit the small space. Having seen the play once, I would welcome the opportunity to listen to this timeless and well-characterized piece again. And if Philadelphia audiences don't have a chance to make the show before its May 9th closing at the Adrienne, this entire production is moving to a special off-Broadway run at Manhattan's 59E59 Theaters June 10th-July 3rd.

InterAct Theatre Company's When We Go Upon the Sea is running through May 9th at the Adrienne's mainstage, 2030 Sansom Street. For more information visit The InterAct website.