Playwright: Tom Patrick
At: Stage Left, 3408 N. Sheffield Ave.
Phone: ( 773 ) 883-8830; $18-$22
Runs through: April 2
In the Arabian Nights, a prisoner postpones her execution by telling a series of stories, each one's ending so intriguingly intertwined with the start of the next that her captor's curiosity at the final resolution stays his order. The Norman soldiers caught behind enemy lines during the Crusades suspect that the Damascus scribe bunkered down with them may be invoking the same stratagem for the same purpose. We, on the other hand, KNOW—beyond a shadow of doubt—that author Tom Patrick is playing the same trick on us, just as we know that his 13th-century war is an allegory for our own in 2005.
But if the gimmick worked then, it's no less effective now. With every third playwright churning out a polemic on U.S.-Middle Eastern relations, Patrick has found an undeniably novel approach to his topic. Yes, playgoers wishing to see only The Vow's contemporary parallels will find them lined up neatly as Cliff's Notes—but for those weary of agitprop editorializing, Patrick has also crafted a PBS-pristine docudrama rooted in scholarly research, while adhering to the comfortable conventions of historical fiction.
The people who fight wars, after all, have not changed much from one millennium to the next. If Pope Urban II promised absolution to anyone who died defending the faith in 1291, do we not also proclaim a hero every fallen warrior, no matter what their motives or conduct? For such a reward, what husband would not squeeze into his old uniform in order to escape marital tensions? What jailbird not choose military service over civil punishment? What social misfit not seek to conceal his own insecurities under the bodies of slain enemies?
Without actors who can carry the weight of so many issues, however, this panoramic view could quickly slip from Discovery Channel to Spamalot. Fortunately, director Kevin Heckman has assembled an adroit cast who heft Patrick's sometimes overwritten dialogue as deftly as they wear their 20-to-60 pounds of period armor. And in a show rife with theatrical legerdemain, let's not forget Sara C. Walsh and Drew Martin, whose scenery conjures the mysteries of the Orient with the effortless dexterity of Aladdin's genie.