Regional Reviews: Albuquerque/Santa Fe Not My Revolution Also see Mark's review of The Glass Menagerie and Wally's review of Time Stands Still
The revolution of the title has two contexts: the 2011 popular revolt against the Syrian dictatorship, which devolved into the catalyst for the nations's continuing civil war; and the 1789 revolution that ended the French monarchy and led four years later to the execution of the queen, Marie Antoinette. Not My Revolution depicts parallels between the two revolutions, as well as between the fate of Marie Antoinette and the Syrian woman who is persecuted by President Bashar al-Assad and his supporters, which include her own father-in-law. The presentation has been designed by Albuquerque's Fusion theater company and is stunningly directed by Fusion stalwart Laurie Thomas. The opening of the play is one of the most starling I've witnessed. The uncurtained stage remains dark and silent for several long minutes after the play's scheduled opening. Then from the back of the auditorium, a door opens and a slovenly dressed middle-aged woman shuffles forward. She is wearing several layers of coats and pushing a cart containing a bedroll and odds and ends of possessions. Pleadingly, insistently, aggressively, she approaches a member of the audiencein this case meand begins blathering in incomprehensible, rapid-fire but well-accented French, adding in English, "I am not a beggar. I am not a beggar. I am not a beggar." That, however, is precisely how she appears. The subsequent hour-and-a-half monologue for the most part focuses on the travails of this Syrian woman. She married into a wealthy and influential family supporting the Assad regime, owned an art gallery, and passes her life happily in a merry round of parties and receptions. Due to a series of coincidences, she and her her husband are accidentally caught up in an anti-regime demonstration, her husband is killed, and she is arrested as a suspected supporter of the protesters. Her father-in-law takes her children away from her and forces her into exile. She travels to Lebanon and Turkey seeking eventually to get to Paris, but is robbed of all her documents and money, ending up in the street, penniless, alone, and utterly forlorn. The last scenes shift to 1783 France where Marie Antoinette is in a prison cell awaiting execution. Some of the parallels between the two women are self-evident. They are both tragic victims of revolutionary eras. They are both wealthy, self-involved and insulated members of the elite who are naive about their society and ignorant of the great political issues churning around them. The play, however, fails to show a core relationship between the two women, nor is it clear how referencing the French Revolution strengthens the depiction of the Syrian uprising. My own feeling is the play would be more focused and more powerful if it dealt only with the plight of the Syrian woman, whose tragedy is so profound that it needs no historical metaphor to highlight it. Quibbles about the construction of the play aside, Huffman does a magnificent job as author and solo actor in this moving human document. The play has had only one previous staging, in Germany, and is scheduled for a tour of Egypt, London, Chicago and Los Angeles in coming months. There will be plenty of opportunity to fine tune it. Huffman, who is based in Portland, Oregon, but has acted and directed several times in Albuquerque, has had an extraordinary career. She acted in her first play at the age of 6, went on to join the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus as a dancer and elephant rider, and has participated in scores of plays as singer, dancer, actor, author, director and producer. The program for Not My Revolution notes, "She dedicates this work to all the victims of brutal civil war, especially in Syria." Not My Revolution continues through May 28, 2017, at The Cell Theatre, 708 First St. NW in Downtown Albuquerque. May 25, 27 and 28 performances will be pay what you will. For tickets and information go to www.fusionnm.org or call 505-766-9412. |