A review by Maury Kestenbaum.
The Lathe of Heaven
Adapted and Directed by Edward Einhorn.
Based on the book by Ursula K. Le Guin.
Starring John Gallop III, Robert Honeywell, Eric Oleson, and Caroline Samaan, with musicians Melissa Elledge and Michael Midlarsky.
Presented by Untitled Theater Company No. 61 at 3LD Art and Technology Center (80 Greenwich Street, New York, New York).
6-30 June 2012.
For tickets call 212-352-3101 or visit www.untitledtheater.com.
130 minutes (including one intermission).
Full disclosure: The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin is one of my favorite books. The production at the Untitled Theater Company No. 61 is ambitious, artsy, and gratifyingly faithful to the text.
Do not go expecting sound and fury—this is a story for people who think. It’s science fiction about people and ideas, not space opera.
The following is not a spoiler, it’s the setup: Our protagonist, George Orr, is mandated to go to a dream specialist. He wants to stop dreaming, because he’s convinced that his dreams re-shape reality. The doctor puts him under, and has him dream… and sees the change happen. George’s dreams do in fact change reality. The doctor realizes that this power can forge a better world!
This production has been approved by the author herself, and rightly so: While there’s been a little tinkering with the story, to bring the 1976 novel into consonance with the Obama-era world, the playwright understands that he can hardly improve on the ideas and the gorgeous prose style of Ursula K. Le Guin.
This novel may be her most Taoist, and that’s saying something. The plot involves the question of whether we ought to “fix” our world, or to simply “be here now”. Taoism espouses the highly un-American idea that non-action is generally a better choice than action. In western fairy tales, good triumphs over evil, but in Zen Buddhist and Taoist tales, the happy outcome involves restoring balance.
With all due respect to the actors, the star of this play is the script. Edward Einhorn showed tremendous skill in bringing this beloved book to the stage. I was very impressed by the things the play did not say. As the script says “Let understanding stop at what cannot be understood.” Einhorn cuts right to the chase, showing us what we want to see. The thrill of this story is in how reality shifts, and the substance of it is the question of whether it is right for us to change the world. Einhorn gives us the full measure of that, and I thank him.
Doctor Haber is played with great understanding by Eric Oleson. He is genial, intelligent, and implacable. The character has ideas about what will make a better world. One might try to stop a tank’s progress with more success than you’d have in swaying Dr. Haber from his goals. Oleson’s Haber is utterly convincing and natural. Think of the boss who knows he’s right, and who really wants you to enjoy agreeing with him: That’s Haber.
George Orr is played by Robert Honeywell. He is skilled and believable, but I feel he was mis-directed. His Orr projects real strength, and unhappiness. It’s a little one-note. The character in the book, in my view, has a sweetness that is lacking here. That sweetness comes from his refusal to compete, in the petty ways that most of us do. He is desperate because he knows that it is wrong for him to change the world, even by his dreams. If Honeywell’s Orr had lightness as well as grimness, it would be more believable when we see him find comfort in a friend.
The third character is Heather LeLache, a lawyer/friend/wife of George’s, depending on which reality we are in at the moment. Caroline Samaan plays her not larger-than-life, but exactly life-sized. This is a normal person, not a type, not an embodied argument. I believe that her reactions to the unbelievable and sometimes Kafka-esque circumstances present her with a greater challenge than that of the other actors.
“The Singer” is John Gallop III. His voice is terrific. His is a curious role—he begins the show from the background, and before it’s over, he is one of the invading aliens who appear from Orr’s dream. It is a genuinely alien alien, not the anthropomorphic little green man of a lazier writer. The aliens are often incomprehensible, and this allows us to feel the panicky uncertainty that the characters do.
The songs that bracket and support the play are Taoist art songs provided by Henry Akona. They are genuinely artistic and are welcome texturing, for the first half. They become a little overbearing in the second act. Still, the richness and imagination of their presentation is enough to make anyone with a soul in them say “Well, that’s art!”
The use of projected images on the walls is very well-done. The world keeps shifting under the feet of the characters, and simply having a picture of a window to look out of lends depth to the illusion.
Lovers of the book, lovers of alternate-reality stories, appreciators of Tao/Zen/Buddhist thinking, and admirers of art will enjoy this production. It’s not The Lion King and it is not Die Hard. It’s a thinker’s play, an evening for grown-ups.
[Editor’s note: this review, by Maury Kestenbaum, complements our earlier review.]