The Ridgelea Award goes to the Huntington Theatre production of
The Cry of the Reed, by Sinan Ünel
Sinan Ünel has written a tantalizing tale of intrigue and spirituality, produced by the Huntington Theatre at the Calderwood Pavillion, running through May 3. The playwright is sophisticated and his works are complex, often contrasting several themes and images at the same time on the same stage. He has done that beautifully in this play. Perhaps magnificently would be a better word.
"The Cry of the Reed" follows Sevgi (Lisa Birnbaum) and Philip (Darren Pettie), two journalists who have worked together before, and who plan, pushed a bit by Sevgi, to return to Iraq to cover the course and tragedies of the war. Philip is Canadian. Sevgi is American, but because her mother is Turkish, she arranges to travel with a Turkish passport. They make it into Iraq, but are abducted and held captive. Then Philip is tortured and Sevgi is terrorized. Meanwhile Sevgi's lover, Josh (Sean Dugan), trying to find her, has also arrived in Turkey. He has only the name of her mother, from whom she has remained estranged for twelve years. We find him trying to push away Hakan (Amir Arison) who gives him a royal Turkish welcome ("Hello, my friend... what is your language?"), and when he succeeds in getting Josh to relax and sit down, discovers that he knows the woman he seeks. In fact he is her not-quite-indentured servant. Ayla (Cigdem Onat) is a Sufi philosopher who had lived in America but returned to her native Turkey. When Hakan returns home with Josh, and Ayla struggles through the realization that he is there to find her daughter, she invites him to stay. Then a phone rings, at 3:00 a.m., and she learns that Sevgi has been given a chance to call her from Iraq.
Ms. Onat's charm and presence are magnetic. Not only must she project the split-second forgiveness of an estranged parent on the phone, but as the plot thickens, Josh arranges for her to make a broadcast plea for her daughter's life - a once in a lifetime moment of theatre, which is capped by a later chance to urge Sevgi to be courageous and brave when another phone call comes that will be their last. Her scream of despair after that call is intrinsic to the dialogue that debates faith vs. belief within the play. From Hakan's "it is so wonderful that you have found me," quickly concluding that Allah has led Josh to him, to Josh' denunciation of the ‘extra set of footprints in the sand' that his mother pushed on him, there is a sub-theme in "The Cry of the Reed" that raises handsomely the question of how copacetic is the universe, and also pushes the limits of either belief or unbelief over the edge.
Darran Pettie's Philip is tuned to perfect pitch as the sexy and tortured Canadian who shares in his last moments how he has wanted Sevgi physically. Everything about his performance is on target, from his destroyed feet to his balanced concern for Sevgi. And Ms. Birnbaum is incredible as the terrified journalist who wants to write about injustice, while waiting to die. The troubled Nabil, who plans to soon become a martyr, is played beautifully by Rafi Silver, confused when he learns that Sevgi may not be a virgin, and will not be likely to join him in Paradise.
Laith Nakli adds a rich substance to several roles. And Sean Dugan carries the role of Josh, the American musician, with a kind of cynical dignity that is grand but never grandiose. But it is always hard not to focus on Amir Arison, a cunning character actor, who on the one hand is fully the arrogant terrorist, Kadir, and on the other puts an entire soul into the character of Hakan, a boundary-less guy who is honest enough to share with Josh that his compulsion to ‘pull the turkey' about five times a day makes him a rather human Muslim, that he first came to Ayla's house to steal her belongings, and that if she has had pain in her life, he is destroyed by it. It is Hakan who pushes us (and himself) towards the perfection of the Sufi festival with which the play ends, whirling counter-clockwise with one hand towards heaven and one towards the earth, grounded below, inspired above, open to the moment. I wanted more of the whirling, a longer diversion, before the final words.
Daniel Goldstein's direction shines; he puts a polish on the carefully styled writing. Laurie Churba's costumes worked perfectly, and the award of awards goes to Eugene Lee for the basic scenic design, constructed from doors and doorways, and to Michael Chybowski for the lighting. I know from past experience that Sinan Ünel designs his works with all these features in mind, and I trust that he is as happy with the production as the enlightened members of his audience are.
It's not always easy to grasp the full significance of the action on stage. Sometimes the softer voices do not project fully through the Wimberly Theatre. There is a richness of symbolic meaning in and around this saga of modern life, that not everyone may pick up. But what power it offers. Taking a tip from Hakan, I sit down and breathe. With a happy smile I think about this play, "How wonderful that you have found me!"
Tickets for The Cry of the Reed are at 617-266-0800
visit the Huntington web site at www.huntingtontheatre.org