Strings: Blessed Be The Ties That Bind

Once upon a time, a bunch of physicists worked over a lot of centuries to figure out what the world is made of, and what holds it all together. They theorized about falling apples and waves and particles and cats in boxes and parallel worlds that are all jumbled up like spaghetti. The secrets of the universe became their Holy Grail, and they dedicated their lives and livelihoods to understanding the Big Picture and all of the little pictures that make it up.

Then there was a playwright who made the remarkable discovery that the laws of physics are just as dramatic as history, and imagined alternate realities of a true story. His play about science and love and war went on to be a fantastic smash hit, and Copenhagen changed the way fans of theatre look at science. And, according to Carol Buggé's fascinating new play Strings, Michael Frayn's masterpiece also changed the way fans of science look at theatre.

Based on some true events (though reimagined with fictional characters), the play follows a train ride shared by three physicists on their way to attend a London performance of Copenhagen. As they ride, they discuss Frayn's play, their work and their lives (often the same things), and the laws of science and the laws of love (often the same things). They dream of their predecessors in their fields and learn about physics as much as they learn about each other and themselves. The complex relationships of subatomic particles become metaphors for the complex relationships of the physicists, and by the time the train arrives at its destination, both science and lives have been changed.

Strings is that rarest of plays: an intelligent drama that respects the intelligence its audience without ever sounding snobby. If the dialogue is a little bit flat, if the characters are not as deep as they might be, it's easily forgiven. The play may not be in the same class as Copenhagen itself or Stoppard's Arcadia or Hapgood, but substance matters more than style, and if Strings is a little more rough-hewn than its predecessors, it's still delightfully fascinating and highly enjoyable, even for those who know very little about physics. The title can refer to the theories of parallel realities, or to the ties that bind our hearts in love.

The cast of six (Copenhagen, doubled) work very well together, keeping the balance of science and drama nicely in check. Keir Dullea (still breathtakingly handsome at 70) is simultaneously cocky and charming as a man both hurting and haunted, quietly understating his character and revealing layers with small gestures. Mia Dillon, playing a woman holding her men together as she falls apart, is given somewhat less to do, but nicely conveys many conflicting emotions, especially in one brilliant monologue that stops the show in the most wonderful way. Likewise, Warren Kelley doesn't get to really spread his wings until late in the play, but makes the most of his role. As Isaac Newton, Max Planck, and Marie Curie, respectively, Drew Dix, Kurt Elftmann, and Andrea Gallo add just the right touch of surrealism to their ghostly characters, nicely commenting on each scene without making the presence of historical characters seem at all unnatural.

Part romantic drama, part science lesson, and part history lesson, Strings may be one of the most enjoyably thought-provoking new plays in years, and can appeal quite nicely to many different tastes. May there be many more smart plays like it.