
“Bent”
When: Through Nov. 22
Where: Diversionary Theatre, 4545 Park Blvd., North Park
(619) 220-0097
www.diversionary.org
By “Bent”
When: Through Nov. 22
Where: Diversionary Theatre, 4545 Park Blvd., North Park
(619) 220-0097
www.diversionary.org
By Patricia Morris Buckley
Yet it’s in that love story that Diversionary Theatre’s and ion theatre company’s joint production falls just a bit short. It’s too bad, because the small amount it lacks is what makes this play such an emotional powder keg.
The story begins in pre-war 1930s Germany in the flat of Max and Rudy. Right away there’s a problem, as there’s no set dressing to set the time period. Perhaps set designers Claudio Raygoza and Bret Young mean to point out the universality of the story? While that might be a fine notion (if indeed it’s their intention), it doesn’t serve the play well as this is a historical drama that hinges on the time period. As a result, when Rudy tells now-sober Max that he’d slept with a storm trooper (the Sturmabteilung corps) the night before, it isn’t that difficult to jump to a “Star Wars” reference.
But no, this is a Nazi storm trooper and that’s where the trouble begins for these two flamboyantly gay men. It seems that the Sturmabteilung is being eradicated because many of its leaders are gay. Now that a storm trooper has been discovered in Max and Rudy’s apartment, they are on the run and in very real danger.
Max is a deal maker who has had a pampered life as the only son of a rich family. While he seems shallow and a bit of a cad, he does show a bit of humanity by refusing to leave the country without Rudy. After Rudy is killed on the train to the concentration camp, Max is mentored by Horst, a prisoner who knows the rules for survival.
Max, seeing that gays are lower than Jews, pretends to be a Jew (how he proves he’s not gay is a harrowing tale). Max helps Horst by getting him a job moving stones, but Horst disdains Max because he hasn’t been truthful about who he is, wearing the Jewish star instead of the pink triangle. Yet, as they work together, they fall in love until the tragedy separates them permanently.
The scene that’s the show’s emotional core is where the two, who aren’t allowed to look at each other, let alone touch, share how much they miss sex. Horst reveals his feelings for Max and teaches him how they can make love just by talking. It’s the ultimate love-defying-evil scene, and yet in this production it feels like overhearing two people talking dirty. The emotional deeper level is missing, just as the appearance of the naked storm trooper in the first scene relies mostly on shock value rather than becoming a metaphor for more sexually-carefree times.
It would be too easy to blame this shortcoming on the actors, but they actually give quite searing performances, especially the two leads. As Max, Michael Zlotnik is quite impressive both as the devil-may-care rascal and later as a savvy prisoner who starts to see that his confinement isn’t just physical. Charlie Reuter gives an almost pitch-perfect performance as Horst, who never loses sight of his humanity. Also, kudos to Steven Lone as the gender-bending Greta and Walter Ritter as Max’s uncle, a poodle on a tight leash.
Raygoza and Glenn Paris share the direction duties and the show is tight and polished. But while the saying goes that two heads are better than one, it’s interesting that neither noticed that the two main characters never really connect on a truly amorous level.
However, much of the production staff gets it right. Jeannie Galioto’s period costumes are historically accurate. With lights alone, Chris Renda creates the confined spaces the play calls for, such as a train car, to the point of claustrophobia. Omar Ramos’ sound design is equally impressive.
“Bent” still has the stunning power to make audiences think and feel. But without the deeper emotional layer, its punch no longer moves the audience to tears as it did 30 years ago.
Patricia Morris Buckley has been reviewing the arts in San Diego for 25 years.