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</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><font face="Calibri">Echoes of a Scream<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></font></b></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><font face="Calibri">By Tom Wachunas<o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“War does not
determine who is right – only who is left.” – Bertrand Russell – <o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the earliest moments of “Plumfield,
Iraq”, the season-opening production at Kent State University at Stark Theatre,
augur tragedy. A group of young men and women, running in formation to a lively
military cadence call, morphs into a frolicsome gathering of high school buds
playing touch football. Someone named Cam is missing from the fun. Cam’s best
friend, Mike, gently pleads with the group to wait just a little while longer before
going their separate ways and getting on with their day. Indeed, with their
lives.<o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What unfolds,
then, is a war tale, a “memory drama” written by Barbara Lebow - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>here with Brian Newberg directing a youthful,
remarkably skilled eight-member cast - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that takes place in the guilt/grief-riddled
mind of Mike, suffering from a very protracted case of PTSD (Post-Traumatic
Stress Disorder). He is our lens on simple, innocent life in the fictional
small town of Plumfield, Washington, and on the harrowing battlefield of Iraq.
It is a lens at once crystal clear and fogged over by the vapors of horrific
memories.<o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without ever
succumbing to ideological axe-grinding, grandstanding, or gratuitous preaching,
Lebow’s play is nonetheless an uncompromising look at the awful democracy of
war. No respecter of age, gender, politics, or nationality, and with cruel
equanimity, it leaves in its wake usurped dreams, wrecked psyches, and
otherwise arrested lives. It’s the chaotic contrast between Mike’s nostalgic
remembrances of Plumfield pleasantries and his searing wartime flashbacks that
drives the story, starting with his reluctant decision to enlist in the Army
along with Cam, both fresh out of high school. They’re sent to Iraq, still
under a delusion that the worst of the war, initially celebrated for its
brevity, was over. They envision returning to the lives and loves they left
behind, with their Veteran benefits assuring a college education. Cam would
pursue a business career, and Mike a life in music.<o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
essentially no physical stage set, and minimal props. In this somber
atmosphere, “scenery” is delivered via light effects along with still and
moving images projected on the large back wall painted to look like stone. Real
war footage is generously interspersed with poignant snapshots and videos of
the characters’ laptop missives to each other. <o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anthony
Antoniades’ portrayal of Mike is for the most part successful in its volatile
balance between<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>his character’s gentle
nature and his clear horror at what transpires in Iraq. He’s shell shocked,
literally and figuratively. At times he’s twisted into a fetal, defensive
silence, locked inside overwhelming shadows of loss, failure, and guilt. It’s
all a compelling counterpoint to the more ostentatious, confident nature of
Cam, played with eminently credible, affectionate gusto by Matt King. <o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both Erin Stewart,
as Cam’s newlywed wife, Lorraine, and Devonn Patterson, playing Mike’s
girlfriend, Beth, bring genuine tenderness along with palpable, bittersweet
urgency to their scenes of trying to draw Mike out of his torturous memories.
To rejoin the living.<o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given all of the story’s sharply and powerfully
defined images of psychological and emotional trauma, the play’s final moment
of Mike climbing the stairs out of his basement is somewhat ethereal (and maybe
for some, unsatisfying) and enigmatic. Is it a flashback, a dream, a goodbye to
his life, a promise, a prophecy? <o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call it an
ascension, then. From the (de)basement of war’s damnable malignancy, to the
possibility of curative atonement. Amid echoes of lingering hope.<o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
</div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><font face="Calibri"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Plumfield, Iraq”
curtain times are November 10 (Thursday) and 12 at 8 p.m. / November 6 and 13
at 2:30 p.m. in the Kent State University at Stark Theatre, Fine Arts Building.
Tickets are $10 for adults and $7 for senior citizens and students 16 and
younger. To order, call (330) 244 – 3348 or visit </font><a href="http://www.stark.kent.edu/theatre"><font face="Calibri">www.stark.kent.edu/theatre</font></a><font face="Calibri"> <o:p></o:p></font></div><div>
<span style='font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA;'><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
other reviews and commentaries by Tom Wachunas on the performing and visual
arts in the greater Canton area, please visit his blog, ARTWACH, at <a href="http://www.artwach.blogspot.com/">www.artwach.blogspot.com</a> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div></div></body></html>