Review: Arthur Miller's BROKEN GLASS in Boston Premiere at New Rep

Broken Glass

Written by Arthur Miller, Directed by Jim Petosa; Scenic Designer, Jon Savage; Costume Designer, Molly Trainer; Lighting Designer, Scott Pinkney; Sound Designer, David Remedies; Stage Manager, Anna Turnham

CAST (in alphabetical order): Benjamin Evett, Anne Gottlieb, Christine Hamel, Michael Kaye, Jeremiah Kissel, Eve Passeltiner

Performances through September 27 at New Repertory Theatre, Arsenal Center for the Arts, 321 Arsenal Street, Watertown, MA; Box Office 617-923-8487 or www.newrep.org

New Repertory Theatre joins the nationwide celebration of the late playwright Arthur Miller's 100th birthday with the Boston area premiere of Broken Glass, one of his last plays. In keeping with New Rep's season theme of "Identity," Miller's Olivier Award-winning and Tony-nominated drama is a multi-faceted exploration of what it means to be Jewish, set against the backdrop of the ascent of the Nazi Party in Germany in the days following Kristallnacht in November, 1938. A stellar cast under the thoughtful direction of Artistic Director Jim Petosa inhabits Miller's characters, intuiting their emotional journeys with remarkable authenticity.

Kristallnacht, also known as "The Night of Broken Glass," was a multi-day pogrom during which the windows of German and Austrian Jews' homes, businesses, and synagogues were smashed by Storm Troopers and Hitler Youth, followed by as many as 30,000 Jewish males being arrested and incarcerated in concentration camps. Across the ocean in Brooklyn, Sylvia Gellburg (Anne Gottlieb) voraciously reads the news accounts and is so disturbed by these events that she suddenly becomes paralyzed from the waist down. As much as she is horrified by the violence, Sylvia cannot comprehend the passivity of the German citizens who are bystanders to it. Desperate to find the cause and the cure of his wife's ailment, her husband Phillip (Jeremiah Kissel) consults with Dr. Harry Hyman (Benjamin Evett), a handsome neighborhood physician of renown.

The play opens with Dr. Hyman explaining to Phillip that there is nothing physically wrong with Sylvia, but her inability to walk is the result of "hysterical paralysis," a psychological condition. Although he is not trained as a psychiatrist, Hyman is fascinated by her case and decides to attempt to treat her for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is her trust in him. There is also an inkling of an attraction between them (there are several references to the doctor's good looks and reputation as a heart throb when he was in college), complicating their relationship and raising suspicion in both of their spouses. Hyman approaches his task as part physician, part detective, obsessively probing for more information from both Sylvia and Phillip to better understand their marriage and dig out the root cause of the psychosomatic illness.

As the doctor peels back the layers and struggles to separate truth from fiction, Miller weaves in the intimate details of their three lives within the context of the Zeitgeist. They are three-dimensional characters whose personalities sometimes clash, sometimes mesh, but they always present as complex human beings trying to do the best they can. Miller's writing is incisive and penetrating, exploring the thoughts and feelings of his characters like a spelunker navigating the arteries of a cave. Petosa previously directed Broken Glass nearly twenty years ago and was fortunate to have access to the playwright at that time. In this production, he is fortunate to have A-list actors who give fully realized performances; they embrace all aspects of their characters and do not shy away from the natural humor that surfaces from time to time, even in the face of the darkness inherent in the story.

In a nuanced portrayal, a range of emotions - fear, longing, guilt, pain - play out on Gottlieb's face. She "walks" a line between strong and sympathetic, ultimately showing Sylvia to be a force that neither her husband nor her doctor fully comprehends. They see her as they wish or need her to be, rather than the woman she could have been. She has to give herself permission to be fulfilled in order to escape her emotional captivity. With his nervous, fidgety demeanor, Kissel physically displays Phillip's internal paralysis; he is torn between his pride as "the only Jew..." to ever work at his bank and his struggle with issues of identity and assimilation. As his world disintegrates around him, he decompensates and Kissel makes his suffering palpable. Evett's Hyman is chipper, a hail-fellow-well-met sort of guy, in stark contrast to the mostly dour Gellburg. He captures the charm and confidence that are the hallmarks of the doctor, even as he gives us a window into his self-doubt and the internal tug-of-war he fights to be faithful to his wife.

Eve Passeltiner (Margaret Hyman, the doctor's wife), Christine Hamel (Harriet, Sylvia's sister), and Michael Kaye (Stanton Case, Phillip's employer) bring considerable acting chops to their supporting roles. Margaret is warm and loquacious, but slyly adept at noticing what's going on around her. Harriet is protective of her sister and anxious to help get to the bottom of her situation, even if it means spilling family secrets. Case is a member of the one-percent, most likely anti-semitic, who respects Phillip as long as he performs in a way that makes or saves money for the company. In a disturbing scene when a real estate deal goes awry, he shows his true colors and Kaye's demeanor is absolutely chilling.

Scenic designer Jon Savage provides a rich-looking set with lots of dark wood and decorative windows, warmly lit by designer Scott Pinkney. Reflecting the concentricity of the plot and the spiraling inward of each character's story, Savage places the seating areas for each locale (Hyman's office, Sylvia's bedroom, Case's office) on a rotating parquet floor. Sound designer David Remedios inserts incidental music of piano or strings between scenes, matching the tone of what is to come. Molly Trainer's period costume designs are evocative of the 1930s, right down to the seams on Margaret's stockings.

Broken Glass surprised me with its timelessness and the depth of feeling and respect it affords each character. Arguably, it is Sylvia's story, but Miller develops everyone's arc, including the minor players. They are all faced with personal challenges and have to decide upon a course of action that either solidifies or calls into question their identity. Some of their choices are driven by fear and some by love, and the audience is drawn in by their quandaries because they are an integral part of the human condition. Miller is exploring a specifically Jewish dilemma with Jewish-American characters, but the play is brilliantly conceived and you don't have to be Jewish to be pierced by the shards of these broken lives.

Photo credit: Andrew Brilliant/Brilliant Pictures (Anne Gottlieb, Jeremiah Kissel)