The Representative

The Representative is a play but it’s also a fact: Nazis, Jews, Clergy, the Pope. Find the weakest link. Deport it. Gas it. Horrendous? It really happened.
The play is part of the ‘Rediscoveries season’ at Finborough theatre. It is a season dedicated to the rediscovery of plays but the staging of Rolf Hochhuth’s The Representative is also a reminder of a historical fact that some can argue it can never be forgotten. The Holocaust was definitely one of the events that changed the face of humanity forever. After such an act of massive extermination, people knew that actually there are no limits to cruelty. Even if the plan was conceived inside a few distorted minds, it took the collaboration of many and the approval –open or silent- of much more to be executed. There is a massive guilt in our post-modern era caused by the innocent blood sacrificed. Of course, this is not the case for everyone. Most of us rarely think about it as we lead our ordinary, everyday lives, reading the latest news on the Middle East crisis and nodding sympathetically for the victims. But after sitting in the theatre and becoming engaged in the debates and the dilemmas the play brings forth, you feel shaken; the way a good play should shake you.
The basic theme of the play is the silence of Pope Pius XII about the extermination of the Jews all over Europe. There are two main characters; Gerstein, a Christian SS Officer sympathetic to the Jews who is trying to alert the Church, and a young Jesuit priest, Father Ricardo, who, facing the hypocrisy of the higher clergy, is gradually losing faith in the Church he represents. Around these two a bunch of different characters revolve, placed there either to defend the Pope (while at the same time they involuntarily expose the corruption of the Church by politics) or to remind us of the tragic fate awaiting the Jews. In between these two sets of characters, stands the most terrifying of all: the Doctor, the personification of evil in front of whom everyone is helpless.
The theatre is small, with a round stage where the audience sits literally next to the actors. This means that you feel like an observer and a participant at the same time. It is easy to be carried away by some really passionate performances and lose sense of time, especially after the second act where the drama is accelerated and culminates in a forceful and shocking finale. A three hour play full of talking and little action may seem a heavy load for a summer night but if you let yourself absorb the vibrations of the dialogue and the expressions of the actors, you will enjoy the experience. Kate Wasserberg’s direction is taking advantage of every available corner while her guidance to the actors was essential. Clever changes of setting, appropriate use of music, and atmospheric use of lighting along with excellent costumes contribute to the performances.
As by now most of you will have figured out, the dynamics of the play lay on the dialogues. Thus, it’s all about actors. Fortunately, this staging can boast an amazing cast of sixteen actors, who are ideally chosen. Some of them are doubling or tripling parts but their passing from one character to the other is so successful, to the point where one or two of them are hardly recognisable. Striking example is Matthew Bates whose main part is Jacobson, a Jew facing deporting, but he also appears as an Italian Militiaman and as a Writer in the Vatican. The way he changes his voice, his gaze, his posture from one part to the other is something to be seen, although in the end his heartbreaking Jacobson is what most of the audience will carry with them. David Kershaw is The Doctor. Now, the script is in his favour: he has some of the most memorable lines plus he is a character that brings brains as a gift because he couldn’t find flowers. The way David Kershaw portrays him makes him just terrifying. Although he hardly raises his voice, he is constantly smiling and he rarely appears physically threatening, you just have to look in his eyes to see the evil he represents. A gripping performance that brings the tension in the parts that seem a bit flat. Steve Sarossy is Gerstein, a character that on the first place gains your sympathy. Yes, he wears the SS uniform but it is just a cover for the Resistance. He tries to alert the Church. He helps a Jew. But, in the end of the play, he is still in the beginning, full of good intentions but failing to make a difference. Steve Sarossy’s performance manages to communicate this ambivalence and also the internal hell his character goes through. He is delightful in the last scene, where he smiles in Gerstein’s small triumph over The Doctor. Father Ricardo is played by Oliver Pengelly and as The Doctor calls him ‘he is a delightful apologist of the Christ’. His initially almost naïve character is transformed into a martyr figure, that will steal hearts. Leander Deeny is surprisingly convincing as a dedicated Sergeant of the SS, absolutely believable in the pleasure he derives from his power to punish. William McGeough and Denise McCormack as a Jewish couple bring the much wanted warmth and humanity in the sterilised environment of offices and concentration camps. Michael Lovatt tripling the parts of a priest, a Swiss guard and the Head of the German Police holds your attention in every one of his appearances onstage while Stephanie Thomas is responsible for unveiling one of the most tragic figures in the play. The older generation of actors contribute the experience that makes them look imposing on stage, figures that claim your attention. Simon Molloy’s Pope is full of dignity in his white silk, Jack Klaff’s Cardinal successfully balances the comic and the threatening element while as a deported Jew manages to elicit sympathy, Robert Gillespie has depth and passion, Peter Stenson as the Nuncio and a servant is charming and Edmund Dehn is heartbreaking as a father standing by his son and his double part of a grandfather striving to protect his family.
I am sure that in the end of the play you will be sitting uncomfortably because the food for thought that is offered is not easily digested. When Jacobson in the concentration camp says that the only thing that shocks him now is that the world let this happen, you may hear a little internal voice asking you: ‘would you let it happen?’