The San Diego Union-Tribune
July 23, 1985
Brecht's Fun and Human Look at 'Man'
By WELTON JONES, Theater Critic
"A Man's a Man" dates from the period of Bertolt Brecht's career when the great German poet-playwright, still finding his voice, was fascinated by the exhilarating anarchy of clownery.
The combination of influences on Brecht in the early '20s -- the chaos of postwar Germany, the determination to work within the commercial theater, his growing disillusionment with same, his sharpening pacifism, the exciting artistic experimentation around him -- make "A Man's a Man" one of his most vital and appealing plays.
It's all right to have fun with "A Man's a Man." Brecht certainly did. And so will audiences at the La Jolla Playhouse, where a rambunctious, beguiling production devised by Robert Woodruff opened Sunday night.
As usual at the Playhouse, the show is a visual knockout, witty and polished, rich with imagination, as exciting in its implications as its achievements.
And Woodruff's cast seems to have been dipped in pixie dust. Led by the marvelous Bill Irwin, they play their cartoon roles as if driven by demented zanies.
Irwin, who probably glows in the dark with talent, is cast as the mild little dockworker Galy Gay, kidnapped by a trio of soldiers eager to avoid the wrath of their sergeant at the unauthorized absence of their comrade.
Through a preposterous series of ritualistic scenes, Gay is persuaded to stand in for the missing Jeraiah Jip and then gradually, along the path of least resistance, he actually becomes Jip. A man, after all, is only a man. Or, in Gerhard Nellhaus' translation, "Anything less than 200 men at a time isn't worth mentioning."
But so successful is this new Jeraiah Jip that he becomes a bully, a leader and, in battle, a hero. When the real Jip returns, he's given the leftover papers of somebody named Galy Gay as the four machine gunners seek new worlds to conquer for the queen.
It's the sort of Kiplingesque adventure story that Brecht used at the time as a basin for his fury and cynicism. His message seemed straightforward enough -- the dehumanizing of man by his institutions leads to the casual acceptance of violence as natural, or some such -- though his later revisions slanted the play more in the direction of Marxist dialectic.
But the Nellhaus version wisely sticks to the freewheeling, sometimes silly original and Woodruff's crew has boosted the piece into a dimension -- physical comedy -- where it works splendidly.
Those three soldiers are the key to the play, and in Woodruff's version they work like they apprenticed together in vaudeville. Ebbe Roe Smith is the unlikely intellectual, a tramp Hamlet; Geoff Hoyle is the rubber-faced fall guy; and John Vickery, in a marvelous departure from his romantic leads, plays the brains of the outfit, rodent-clever and as volatile, until he's challenged, as an outlaw motorcyclist. All three reek with debased energy.
Ray Barry, his eyes red holes of near hysteria, molds an irresistible portrait of Bloody Five, the sergeant whose fearsome militarism gives way to hopeless carnality when confronted with the Widow Begbick, played as a well-worn Teutonic tart by the formidable Brandis Kemp. Felton Perry, a black actor playing a Tibetan priest whose flock seems to be Chinese, makes sublime sense.
Maury Chaykin as the real Jip, Gloria Mann as a laconic Mrs. Gay and a half-dozen interchangeable others perform their various roles with discipline and energy in what is a genuine ensemble, and not just a supporting cast for the wonderful Bill Irwin. He charges every scene he's in, unless he chooses not to.
Irwin's own pieces must be amazing to see, but his work as an ensemble actor is now known in La Jolla.
The rest of the production is a series of triumphs. Doug Stein's set, with its hunks of bright junk dropping in or sliding across the pea-green floor while palm trees, baggage cars and a giant Buddha appear on cue, establishes before the first line is spoken more theatrical originality than any other show in town. Richard Riddell's lighting isn't exactly subtle, just full of surprises wry or cute.
And Susan Denison's marvelous costumes often project the characters all by themselves, freeing the actors inside to embellish. The combination of camouflaged pantaloons and military jackets with motorcycle colors is inspired.
Douglas Wieselman's musical score, a pastiche of Kurt Weill fragments and ersatz East Indian, is a trip in itself, as performed by a trio of involved musicians who share the orchestra pit with the sound effects technician.
"A Man's a Man" doesn't do much to solidify rational thought on anything, but it surely is fun and it humanizes a treasured author who needs help, especially in English, to escape the academics and the politicals.
"A Man's a Man"
Bertolt Brecht's play will be presented by the La Jolla Playhouse through Aug. 10 in the Mandell Weiss Center for the Performing Arts on the UCSD campus, La Jolla.
Director, Robert Woodruff; set design, Doug Stein; costumes, Susan Denison; lighting design, Richard Riddell; composer, Douglas Wieselman; sound design, Victor Zupanc.
Cast: Bill Irwin, Ray Barry, Maury Chaykin, Geoff Hoyle, Brandis Kemp, Felton Perry, Ebbe Roe Smith and John Vickery.