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Regional Reviews: Raleigh/Durham Copenhagen
Set in an unspecified spiritual plane, Copenhagen brings together the real, theoretical physicists Niels Bohr (Brian Linden) and Werner Heisenberg (Ian Finley), who were dear friends, enthusiastic collaborators, and ferocious competitors in life, each making monumental contributions to their field in the first half of the twentieth century. They are joined in this purgatory by Bohr's wife Margrethe (Lynda Clark), who, though not a scientist herself, more than capably holds her own in an extended trialogue that returns again and again to their attempt to explain a historically accurate event they failed to understand in life: Why, in 1941, with World War II well underway, did (German) Heisenberg take considerable risks to make a profoundly awkward visit to the (Danish and Jewish) Bohrs in German-occupied Denmark for a scientific conversation that derailed almost before it again, caused a serious rift between the two men, and quite possibly changed the trajectory of both nuclear physics and World War II? Even with that bit of intrigue, this premise might sound a bit dry, and considering that this play also gives us a crash course in such things as quantum mechanics, Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, complementarity, and nuclear fission, not to mention the political dynamics that both animated and stifled the discipline of physics during the great wars, it's easy to imagine Copenhagen, which premiered in 1998, being a great cure for insomnia. What Frayn manages, though, is on par with what he achieved with his best-known work, Noises Off, a brilliant backstage slamming-door farce that premiered in 1982 and enjoyed an underrated film adaptation in 1992. Frayn's signature as a playwright is to breathe life into highly conceptual frameworks, giving us access to grand and intricate ideas by maintaining an astonishing level of control over the structure, pace, and humanity of the stories he tells. What that means, here, is that Niels, Werner, and Margrethe are not just characters, each with complex motivations and dramatic arcs; they also are subatomic particles bouncing off each other, illustrating in their lived experiences the same physics principles they are discussing. They also are human proxies for the messy and even contradictory experiences of loyalty, nationalism, war, and political expediency. The genius of Frayn's craft is to give us a sense of clarity about all of this, to bring all of it to fascinating life, even as he shows us ambiguity everywhere we look. This production is presented in the round on Xiang Li's simple but appropriate circular platform (itself both a universe and an atom) and with minimal but effective lighting changes designed by Chris Popowich. Juan Isler provides appropriately minimal sound design (though perhaps a bit too minimal at what should be a cataclysmic moment late in the second act); more notable is the spare but effective score for solo viola, played live with admirable subtlety by Lauren Hess. But the burden and the triumph of both this show and this production of it rest squarely on the three actors, who are all effectively on stage for the entirety of the performance, and who are called upon to deliver mouthful after mouthful of speeches in which every word matters. Brian Linden's Bohr is equally cerebral and paternal, and he finds a lovely physicality in the character that feels true. Ian Finley has a not unwelcome John Malkovich-esque quality in his portrayal of Heisenberg, showing us the depth of the younger scientist's ethical and moral anguish. But the standout is Lynda Clark, who shades Margrethe from dryly sarcastic to straight-spined outrage, and whose accent felt most consistent and convincing at the performance I attended. This ensemble had already found so many emotional notes in this work on opening night, I can only imagine the way the show will ripen further over the course of its run. Even if, at the end of the day, nothing and no one is completely knowable, and everything we observe is both unreliable and the only truth we have, Copenhagen is a stunning reminder that we have fumbled our way to the center of the universe, and what a marvel it is to be there. Copenhagen, a production of Burning Coal Theatre Company, runs through October 27, 2024, at Murphey School Auditorium, 224 Polk St., Raleigh NC. For tickets and information, please visit www.burningcoal.org or call 919-834-4001. Playwright: Michael Frayn Cast: |
