By Patricia Morris Buckley
SDUN Theatre Critic
The days following the Civil War were confusing ones, especially in the Old South. Roles changed dramatically, the upper class was suddenly impoverished and soldiers returning home had no idea where they fit in. That’s the world Matthew Lopez’s “The Whipping Man” captures perfectly. In the microcosm of his three-person show, all these changes, class upheaval and the pain of a war lost are played out in brilliant detail.
And in that microcosm, we see the race issues the entire country went through and continued to struggle with for decades to come. And yet, the play never feels like a history lesson.
The play begins as Jewish Confederate soldier Caleb returns to his family’s mansion in Richmond, Virginia only days after Lee’s surrender. Caleb is badly wounded by a gunshot to the leg, but refuses to travel to a hospital. A former family slave, Simon, is still at the house, protecting it as best he can from vandals and thieves. Simon sees immediately that Caleb’s leg needs to be amputated or the boy will die. After Caleb pleads for his help, Simon does just that.
Simon and Caleb decide to wait for Caleb’s parents to return. Meanwhile, chaos enters their home when John, another former slave, comes into the mix. John and Caleb were practically raised together, and they were best friends until a whipping made clear who was the master and who was the slave. Now that Simon and John are free, they and Caleb are just beginning to realize how their relationships must change.
Both Simon and John had adopted Caleb’s family’s religion and they decide to hold a Passover Seder. In the hours of preparation, secrets come out, old wounds are revisited and relationships change more dramatically than any of them thought possible.
Lopez’s juxtaposition of the slaves’ freedom and that of the Jews in Egypt, especially when comparing President Lincoln to Moses, brings a historical and personal depth to the text. It illuminates the fact that Caleb’s ancestors were once slaves as well.
Making this production so seamless are the performances of the three excellent actors. Mark J. Sullivan’s Caleb is wonderfully conflicted between family honor, his own selfish needs and loyalty to these two former slaves. He swings easily from petulant and scared to defiant and faithless — all while sitting in one spot most of the show.
The anchor of the show is Charlie Robinson as the elderly Simon, who wants to remain loyal to the family he belonged to, but also wants freedom. Robinson, who is best recognized as Mac the bailiff from TV’s “Night Court,” brings an emotional resonance to an old man who wants to cling to what he knows and the place he called home, yet also craves the freedom he’s dreamed of for decades.
Most conflicted of all is John, who is the catalyst in the play, pushing and manipulating the other characters and at the same time, dealing with the guilt that will keep him from ever being truly free. Avery Glymph finds a balance between the character’s need for family and his ever-present hate for a lifetime of whippings. His manic energy calls up the image of a trapped fox.
Robert Mark Morgan’s in-the-round set just barely captures a room in a burnt out plantation, but could have gone much further. The broken windows hung high above the audience seem disconnected from the stage, although the staircase is the only element that hints at the building’s former glory.
Denitsa D. Bliznakova’s costumes are not flashy or colorful, but perfectly show the inner life of each character. John’s ever-fancier costumes, as he plunders from other plantations in an attempt to adopt the appearance of a white and wealthy Southern gentleman, are wonderfully subtle.
Giovanna Sardelli’s hand is practically invisible, which is the greatest compliment one can give a director. Between her simple yet cohesive direction and the actors’ natural performances, this production feels so real you may feel as if you’ve slipped back in time.
Proving that the best history lesson is the one you don’t know you’re getting.
“The Whipping Man”
Through June 13
Old Globe Theatre
Tickets: $29-$62
23-GLOBE
theoldglobe.org
