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To be sure, this production of the Actors Touring Company, under founder Ramin Gray's direction, offers plenty to discuss. Inspired by the 2011 Anders Breivik attacks in Oslo, which targeted government buildings and a youth summer camp, it posits what happens when a vicar named Claire (Neve McIntosh) comes in contact with the acts' perpetrator, a young black man (Clifford Samuel), and is forced to see the situation from his perspective. Though there's a definite connection to the World Trade Center attacks on September 11, happenings such as these roil in America today, and the questions and concerns Claire faces aren't that far removed from those many people deal with. The endless recent discussions about immigration (illegal or otherwise) in the United States also propose a populace where, when it comes to dealing with so-called outsiders, we're not all on the same page. Grieg presents Claire as something of a moral arbiter—the diverse choir she ran was devastated by the attacks, and she's in the process of picking up the personal and professional pieces—but also lets us see how the boy does not instantly accept that as a given. "I think most people, deep down, would agree with our ideas," he tells her. "You think most people are racist?" "If racist means believing people are happiest, and most secure, when they live amongst their own kind, then yes. I think most people are racist, don't you?" "I like encountering different people," Claire responds. "I enjoy it." "You enjoy exoticism as long as you feel in a dominant position. As long as your tribe are in control. Then it's fun, a hobby. If you felt genuine competition for housing, or resources, or jobs... like most people do... you would feel differently. It's not so easy to be open to others when your tribe feels weak." That is The Events in a nutshell. The rest of it largely revolves around exploring both sides of this question, with a particular focus on how Claire comes to terms with her own rage and how she filters it through a faith that has more black and white concepts of good and evil than she's currently able to acknowledge. If it's not exactly nice and not exactly powerful, it's also not exactly bad. The heart in Grieg's writing is clearly in the right place, and it means well, though most of its complexities are on the simplistic side. This is true as far as the performances, too: Both McIntosh and Samuel dig as deep as the script allows, which is not very, but their commitment to and their angry chemistry with each other energizes the non-action action that constitutes most of the playing time. The Greek tragedy sense of the evening—heightened language, declarative delivery, oversold symbolism—is further heightened by the constant onstage presence of a choir. Its members play a handful of tiny roles throughout, mostly scattered lines they read from scripts, and sing songs ranging from Dizzee Rascal's "Bonkers" to "How Great Thou Art" and more. The group, which is different at every performance (I saw the Brooklyn, all-female Bella Voce, which sang richly and acted thinly), is supposed to represent Claire's new choir, the culmination of her ability to move on, grow, and rebuild after heartbreak. Don't think there's a chance you'll be allowed to miss this point, especially as the group sings increasingly inspiring and inclusive numbers as The Events comes to a close. But that's the spirit throughout. "Everyone's welcome here," Claire says early on, "We're all a big crazy tribe here." Big, maybe. Crazy, not so much. Welcome? Sure—familiar guests have their place, too, though sometimes, no matter how much you like them, even if sometimes you can't wait for them to leave so you can get on with your life.
The Events
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